A little Sass with Cas

Saturday Chores

2012-01-28T14:24:00.000-08:00

Let's face it, it would be easier just to do it myself. The chores I mean. After all things have to be done "right", right? Wrong.

I admit it's hard for me to watch the kids do things the "wrong" way. I realize they are only 5 and 6, no wait excuse me 6 and 3/4, years old. I have to swallow my first reaction when I see their "made" beds. But, when see their faces and the pride in their eyes over the job they did, I melt. So what if the blankets aren't smooth? They put the blankets and all the animals back on the bed, which is what I asked of them. And that's good enough for now. (and no, I did not go back and smooth out the blankets, tempted yes.....)

My kids love to note their accomplishments. So, this week I made a list of our Saturday chores. I included myself on the list. As everyone completed their jobs a name or initial was put in the box. (Lest you think Patrick is a slacker, he has classes all day, so he is exempt from this list). Ms. L raced around the house to get her jobs done and in fact wanted to more. She also, dusted and wiped down the tables and chairs in the kitchen. N moved a bit slower but did his jobs without complaint (which is saying a lot these days)

Go team!

What I didn't expect was that they would want to wash the dishes. I shouldn't have been surprised after all, it's an activity that involves water and bubbles. However, I wasn't ready to relinquish control of clean dishes quite yet. At first I tried to discourage them from joining it, but then I thought about the importance of letting them help, teaching them new things and the road to independence (which is what we want them to walk on some day, right) So, I took a deep breath and said, "yes you can help". I asked them if they would be willing to be in charge of rinsing and stacking the dishes in the drainer. Hoorays all around! I got clean dishes (and no one cut themselves on hidden by suds knifes) and the kids played in the water, and learned new skills.

On a side note I'm always surprised by people who say "your kids clear their own dishes?" or "how do you get them to do chores?" Sometimes people imply that it's a little soon for that kind of responsibility. Well to those people I say, I respectfully disagree. Do they always do it as cheerfully as they did today? Hell no. There are plenty of days when there are squabbles over who's turn it is to set the table or whining about, " Why do we always have to......" But, it's important. And as for how do we get our kids to do it, well they know what our expectations are and we follow through on making sure they carry them out. It's pretty amazing how kids will meet our expectations if we just set them.

So, whenever I'm inclined to do it myself or fix it... I remember that it's not really about perfect beds or perfectly folded clothes. It's about instilling a sense of accomplishment and pride in doing things yourself. It's about understanding that we all contribute to the household, and thus the world at large. And it's about moving them down that road to independence one baby step at a time. After all since the day they were born we've been readying them to fly on their own.

2012-01-01T01:43:00.000-08:00

2012 - Happy New Year. I don't know if it will be a better year, but it will be a different year.

I wish you all many adventures in the new year. I also wish us all peace.

Happy Freakin' New Year

True story - Paperclips and parenting 101

2011-12-29T20:45:00.000-08:00

"If you don't put that paperclip down you're going to poke your eye out. Then there you'll be in the back seat of the car trapped in your car seat with your eyeball poked out. And then, because you are 6 and 1/2 and you can't help yourself, you'll pull the paperclip and your eyeball right out f your head. Then where will you be? Sitting in the backseat with your eyeball on the end of a paperclip and you'll just keep staring at it with your good eye and screamin' "AHHHHH!!!!!!" Do you think your father or I will care? No, we're just going to be getting the story ready in our minds. The story that we will forever taunt you with year after year as well tell it every holiday season. It will be known as, '2011, the year Noah poked his eyeball out screwing around with an unbent paperclip in the backseat of the car' story. Is that how you want to remember your 7th Christmas on this earth? Yeah, I didn't think so, give me the paperclip and find something better to do with your time."

True Story.

I'm thinking about giving out parenting advice in 2012, clearly I've got the communication skills down.

Holiday Greetings 2011

2011-12-15T11:40:00.000-08:00

Greetings from the Pacific NW. 2011 had many ups and downs. We are so grateful to our friends and families who were there to celebrate with us during the good times, and who lifted us up during the not-so good times. We hope 2012 brings you and yours much love and laughter. Below we hope you enjoy some random journal entries (in no particular order) of Carol Ann’s from 2011. Merry Christmas!

I realize that there are more important things going on in the world, but someone just told me I look like David Cassidy ala his Partridge Family days, might be time for a haircut.

Happiness tonight = Lucy wanting to snuggle on the couch with me until she fell asleep.

Why was I laughing hysterically at the kids crying at the breakfast table this morning? Noah was crying because he wanted to help his "favorite" sister by getting her a fork and Lucy was crying because her "favorite" brother wouldn't just let her do it herself. Generosity and Independence. Can't get much better then that on a Monday morning.
　
Happiness tonight = hearing the kids cracking each other up with nonsensical knock- knock jokes. All from their room where they are "sleeping"
　
Guess who’s husband continues to get a 4.0 in grad school?
　
Because it was so much fun the first time, Im going to do it again. Surgery #2 today! Can you feel the excitement ?
　
William (Bill) C Smith Sept 16, 1933- Sept 27, 2011.
Thanks for taking me fishing, sharing your love of books and music with me. I hope there's a never ending library wherever you are.

11 years ago today our eyes met across that smokey room.. This summer we’ll celebrate 9 years of marriage. That’s pretty awesome.
　
Today was L's first day of preschool. She was so excited! But, leaving her in the classroom, my big girl suddenly looked very small. I wanted to scoop her up and bring her home.

Home. Tumbled and jumbled on the couch with the kids. Now about to snuggle on the couch with my hubby and a beer. It's good to be here.

Patrick’s play, Continuum, had a terrific read at JAW this summer, I am so proud of him.
　
Holy cow! 3 weeks in the hospital and I can fit into my wedding dress again. I wouldn’t recommend this diet to friends and family, but I’m not going to complain.

I love that my kids believe I have the power to make the cross-walk change with my magic.
　
Cool misty morning. Perfect for our last summer walk to the library. Now we all sit reading quietly our pile of books. I'm so luck to have a family who loves to read as much as I do.
　
While never one to encourage the wasting of ice cream (horrors!) I am pleased to report that Lucy abandoned her bowl in favor of picking and eating some late pea pods. She announced they were much better then ice cream.
　
"Argh, who art thoo" - Noah
"WHAT!?!" Mommy
"Argh, who art thoo, that's pirate and middle ages for who are you" –Noah
　
The pie Patrick made me for my birthday this year had chocolate, raspberries, blueberries and whip cream. Oh, and some lemon.... it was awesome. I’m a lucky woman.
　
Took the kids outside tonight, they were whining about the heat. So, instead of baths I hosed them down. Seemed to make everyone happy.
　
Listening to the soundtrack of "Oklahoma" with the kids this evening. We came to the dream ballet and the kids were dancing, until the gunshot and the thunderstorm. Suddenly two scared kids... the power of music and the imagination. Luckily they stuck it out and it was once again, "Oh what a beautiful mornin’" Can’t wait to share the movie with them.

Happiness is playing Go Fish with the family. The giggle factor is very high.
　
Why is it no matter where the Stage Manager sits in the room, the Director will stand directly in front of them during blocking rehearsals?

Lucy still hates the noise of firecrackers, as well as lawn mowers, vacuums and just about anything that makes loud noises. Lucky for her Grandma W had a pair of earmuffs for her to wear. I think she’s going to wear them everywhere now!
　
"I am like the cockroach, surviving all the extinctions" ~Noah

Lucy has announced for her birthday in January there will be a princess bowling party, but without the pizza, that’s just for a boy party. She’ll have humus, thank you very much.

Bill Smith - in his own words.

2011-10-06T08:47:00.001-07:00

My Dad passed away Sept 27 at the age of 78. He was strong advocate for peace and social justice issues in the state of Iowa. As a child I knew he chose the cause over the paycheck, but I really had no idea just how much he did over the years. A few years ago he wrote a piece for a reunion he could not attend. It is with love I share with you in his own words just a few of his accomplishments over the years

Sixty years since graduating? What did I do in those years?

Well, right after graduation I served in the Navy and married my high school sweetheart, Mary Hoyt, who was still enrolled at St Luke's School of Nursing in Cedar Rapids.

The Navy sent me to Hawaii, my wife, Mary joined me after receiving her RN degree. We had our first daughter, Jerri Ellen, in Hawaii before being discharged in August 1957.

I was hired as a copywriter for the Fremont Guide & Tribune in Nebraska--where our second daughter, Theresa Eileen, and third, Robbin Marie, daughters were born. Worked for the Des Moines Register and Tribune as an Advertising Account Executive before returning to Nebraska for a better job.

Later my wife, Mary Louise, was diagnosed with acute monocytic leukemia. We moved "back home" to Iowa to be near family members. Mary died in March 1964. For the next four years I continued writing the employees' newsmagazine and other copy for Bankers Life Insurance Company, in Des Moines, now the Principal Financial Group.

Subsequently, I married my second wife, Bonnie who also worked for Bankers Life. We had a son who died at birth, then one more child--a fourth daughter, Carol Ann. In 1969 I was hired as Assistant to the Advertising Manager for Iowa Power and Light Company. My boss soon quit and I became Ad Manager. This job was not comfortable; I did not agree with management’s decision to promote Nuclear power. My disagreement was based on the fact that there was no industry-wide way to dispose of spent nuclear waste. There still isn’t. Needless to say, I started looking for other career opportunities.

Thus, I went to work for a small public relations firm with an option to buy. The owner of the firm was nearing 70, had a bad hip and was tired of the work, which was mainly lobbying. After a few years he had a heart attack and died. This should have been my warning sign of the stress of owning your own business and the long, hard hours of lobbying. It was not; I was buying the firm. Consequently, I had a five by-pass heart surgery in 1994. Through out the years I enjoyed being a professional lobbyist for a number of various clients. Dealing mostly with peace and justice and educational issues. The shortcoming of this quixotic perspective is that it was not very lucrative. You must love a career of helping others and enjoy being in the political arena. We helped the “under dog” and I stayed with it long enough to become an invited member of the “Pioneer Lawmakers" honoring those who have served more than 25 years as an Iowa State House Lawmaker or Lobbyist.

During my lobbying years, I was happy to help obtain the Iowa Educational Grant for the Private Colleges. Am delighted that College students are still able to benefit from this program. Also worked to pass the Iowa Family Farm Act, and was hired by the Iowa Podiatric Medical Society to be their Executive Director and Lobbyist. We lobbied to have the Iowa Podiatrists recognized as physicians when it was determined that their training justified the recognition and then added the ankle to their scope of practice and leg muscles to their Practice Act over the years. Also, the Child Day Care Centers group was another client for which we lobbied and improved their State Appropriations.

One of our most interesting challenges had to do with Iowa's General Practitioner shortage. The Iowa Medical School had a healthy number of specialists BUT not general practitioners. The Des Moines College of Osteopathic Medicine & Surgery (COMS) was graduating D.O.s who were, for the most part, general practitioners. At that time the COMS' President and the Iowa Governor came up with a plan: Iowa would subsidize COMS with $8,000 per student for a third of the entering class. We lobbied for this program and it went well for almost 20 years until the COMS' President was able to offset the subsidy with East Coast students, who were able to pay the high tuition. Unfortunately, the $8,000 per student went to the College, not to the students. Yet it helped with the doctor shortage, especially in Iowa's rural communities.

During Bishop Dingman's tenure we worked for the Iowa Catholic Conference. Which enabled me to work with him and other Iowa Bishops in a coalition with two farm organizations: the Iowa National Farmers Organization and the Iowa Farmers Union. This coalition worked for family farmers especially during the Farm Crisis of the 1980s. The Coalition's biggest success was the passage of Chapter172C, which disallowed Iowa meat packers from owning feedlots, which was in direct competition with our family farms.

It was during this period Bishop Dingman and Fr. Bryan Hehir prepared and published Strangers and Guests: Toward Community in the Heartland, under the auspices of the National Catholic Rural Life Conference. Much of the editing of this piece was done by Bishop Dingman's Rural Life Committee, which I was a participating member in Des Moines.

In the 1990s I lobbied for Iowa's eight largest School Districts. The client was really an association formed to counter a group of smaller schools. They were taking advantage of their large representation in the Iowa General assembly. The big issue was the Iowa Foundation Appropriation Formula's distribution and Iowa's reluctance to consolidate schools.

In 1980 we managed “The Committee to Protect the Constitution.” The Iowa Code offers this amendment opportunity every ten years. Any update, if so needed, is triggered by an Iowa Legislative Resolution, per the Iowa Constitution. The Governor has not role, but the Citizens of Iowa have a chance to vote on the "proposed amendments" after an amendment(s) have been processed and passed by two separate General Assemblies.

The need for this Committee was occasioned by a group of conservative " high rollers' headed by a former state senator author of a number of self serving amendments limiting taxes on upper income earners.

We countered with educational radio, TV and print ads. The Committee was constantly strapped for money. But in the end, with the help of two former Iowa Governors: Ray and Fulton along with retried Lt.Governor Art Neu we whipped Iowans for Tax Relief on the ballot issue in 1980 and again 1990. Thus we were able to keep the Iowa Constitution from being amended with our fund-raising, writing radio, TV and other media commercials and educating the people of Iowa. The ads were complemented with Public Service announcements (PSAs) telling why it was important to keep the Iowa Constitution as it is. This was a major accomplishment.

My wife, Bonnie, with her office administration and accounting experience ran the office and kept track of all the legislative amendments and coordinated clients visiting the State Capitol to talk to their Senators and Representatives. She also handled the Podiatrists' State Conventions and Continuing Education Seminars. As you can see, I was almost unnecessary.

We both achieved a lot of self-satisfaction with helping those in need. Looking back on the fifty years since leaving the halls of Loras College, I am content with what I have accomplished in my on-going life career

Our daughters have added to our family joy with three sons-in-law, seven grandchildren, and two great-grandchildren. Daughter, Jerri has three children and resides in St. Paul, Minnesota. She works as a Payroll Specialist. Daniel and Hayley are now both in college. David, the eldest son, served in the U.S. Army; now he and his wife live in St. Paul, with their two young children.

Other three daughters went West. They live in and around the Portland, Oregon area. Theresa is an Environmental and Recycling Specialist. Robbin has two boys, Nathan and Peter. Robbin works for the VP of research at OHSU. Carol Ann has a son, Noah who is in first grade and daughter, Lucy age 4 and is now in preschool. Carol Ann is stage manger for a theatrical playhouse in Portland.

A boy and a dream

2011-09-17T16:54:00.000-07:00

I'm back...

We had a great summer full of love and laughter. A few skinned knees and more then one bruised ego from time to time. But, no broken bones and no broken hearts (thank heavens... I'm not ready for that yet!) Many trips to the various fountains in the city, OMSI, parks and hikes.

N began the summer by wanting a paint-by-number dinosaur set. I shined him on most of the summer, only half listening to his request. After all this was a boy who EVERY TIME we leave the house wants to buy something new. "I never get anything new/I want/fun" was a common refrain. I was determined to break this habit. So, instead of really addressing it, I ignored it. Yeah, score -1 mom. Finally, we had an epiphany. Let's make the conversation about money a little more real.

Hence the talk about ALLOWANCE. After chatting with Patrick we decided that N could have an allowance of $1 a week. He could then begin to save for things that he wanted. Of course the first thing he wanted was the above mentioned item. It was ONLY $10. "That would take forever!" Really, did he have no faith in the wisdom of his parents? We explained for items that he wanted to buy during this allowance phase he only needed to save 1/2 the money and we would match the other half. He was also welcome to do some work to earn more money if he wanted. (This ratio will change as the dollar amount of his allowance goes up over the years, but it seemed like a good place to start)

So, with a new found determination he began to save. And he offered to wash the car! Well, who could turn that offer down. It was during our recent heat wave, so it was entertaining and practical. So after a couple weeks of saving and working he finally had his five dollars saved. (with $1.50 to spare!)

We proudly walked to our neighborhood art store (owed by Peter Rossing - a blast from my theater past). N went directly to his prize and only vacillated for a moment when he saw another dinosaur item. But he remained firm. He went to the register with box and bank in hand. Proudly counted out his $5 and watched as the clerk rang up his purchase. The whole experience was probably a little more profound for me, but it he seemed very proud of the transaction.

We came home and he spent the afternoon painting, waiting, gluing and waiting some more. And voila a finished project complete with winning smile!

Summer Break

2011-07-23T10:55:00.000-07:00

SUMMER BREAK. I'll be back soon.

Nice Pants

2011-07-01T20:42:00.000-07:00

NICE PANTS

Nice Pants.

Wouldn't it be nice to wake up every morning,

Make a little space,

Washed ashore, salt crusted and clean?

Wouldn't it be nice to wake up every morning,

With a good wop to the head,

Washed ashore, salt crusted and clean?

It comes from within.

With a good wop to the head,

Grasping at logs and riverbank roots.

It comes from within

Babysteps.

Grasping at logs and riverbank roots,

Go the distance,

Babysteps.

Maybe it will become second nature.

Go the distance,

Make a little space,

Maybe it will become second nature.

Nice Pants.

CAS ©

4 years ago

2011-06-07T14:41:00.000-07:00

Four years ago L had her open heart surgery at Dornbecher's Hospital here in Portland, Oregon. It hardly seems possible that the girl who danced in her first ballet 'recital' today was that same small fragile baby.

I remember much from that week, some of it strange, and nonsensical. Some intense and heart breaking. I remember it all.

I remember I had a migraine and refused medicine, I was afraid it would knock me out and I wouldn't be present if something went wrong.

I remember it going so fast and so smoothly, that I just couldn't believe it. This was open heart surgery, they said it could take HOURS, instead it took no time at all.

I remember reading the Mick Jagger/Johnny Depp interivew in Rolling Stone magazine outloud to her as she lie sleeping. I used bad british accents and every time one of them swore I would say, "bleep". This cracked me up to no end, I think some of the nurses just thought I was cracked.

I remember Patrick wrote a poem, it was beautiful.

I remember thinking they were sending us home too soon. It was OPEN HEART surgery, people. The drs were right, she thrived.

I remember how crappy the window seat bed was, but I slept there every night anyway.

I remember not wanting to leave her side, not even for a moment. Not even to go home and take care of N. (I knew he was being well taken care of)

I remember wanting Patrick by my side the entire time, but also pushing him away at times wanting to do it all myself.

I remember going to the Drammys and coming back to the ward smelling of cigarettes and sure I smelled like a distillery. It felt good, it felt wrong.

I remember the doctors faces, if I don't remember all their names.

I remember they said she's probably never need surgery on her heart again, and so far they are right.

I remember L, even if you don't. I'll carry those days in my heart always.

And now for something completely different

2011-06-01T21:04:00.000-07:00

The Sacred Page

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

Uproarious laughter

I want to be remembered in stolen kisses and midnight phone calls

My life is a prayer

Uproarious laughter

I kneel before the piece of paper

My life is a prayer

In phantom wisps of fog, the words disappear

I kneel before the piece of paper

Walls fly up, fast and furious

In phantom wisps of fog, the words disappear

The blank page wins, every blessed time

Walls fly up, fast and furious

I want to be remembered for my simple curry chicken salad

The blank page wins, every blessed time

Buut I am neither saint, nor sinner, merely mortal

I want to be remembered for my simple curry chicken salad

I want to be remembered in stolen kisses and midnight phone calls

The blank page wins, every blessed time

Hallelujah! Hallelujah!

~Carol Ann Wohlmut (C)

Spring 2011

2011-05-06T15:06:00.000-07:00

Hey, it's been awhile! Wondering why? Well, let me just say a few things - grad school, theater schedule, Kindergarten, T-ball, chess club, ballet class, play dates, church, dr appts, stomach flu, spring allergies, spring colds, endless rainy days, random sunny days etc etc. Yeah, that sort of sums up the last few weeks for the Wohlmut family. Oh, don't get me wrong we are enjoying life for the most part, but some days we are overwhelmed with the business of living our lives.

Patrick and I often feel we are running a race together. A relay race. We are on the same team, but never on the track at the same time. Just constantly passing the baton back and forth as we run our laps. With our crazy schedules never quite allowing us to just walk a lap or two together, sometimes we have to drop the baton and just walk off the track. Today we did just that, we all played hooky.

Patrick had the day off from work, so L and I cancelled a play date, and we kept N home from school. We did so without warning, so it felt like a wonderful treat to the kids. (shh, don't tell N and L, but Patrick and I had actually cooked up the idea earlier in the week . A 24 hour stomach flu, almost destroyed the plans, but we didn't let it!) We had originally planned to go to the Coast but the weather seemed iffy (and that pesky theater schedule was flashing at me like a warning bell) so we opted to stay a little closer to home. We headed out to the Wooden Shoe Tulip Festival in Woodburn, Oregon. It was a quick drive, and although it was cool, a good time was had by all.

So, just what does one do at a tulip

festival on an "off-day" (the festival is apparently really rockin' on the weekends) with a 4 and 6 year old? Well, you mostly let them run in the play area, let them eat bad food, drag them to see the flowers, tell them repeatedly to slow down, and laugh uproariously. In other words you do what you always do with kids in tow, you give a little and you take a little.

Patrick and I opted not to eat the greasy food, but the kids were hungry and sometimes it easier to just feed them then listen to, "I'm hungry" ("really, I'm Daddy, nice to meet you") a hundred times. So, sure have a corn dog kids.

'There's nothing that a corn dog and strawberry lemonade can't cure. In fact my hearing has improved!" Speaketh N (hooray, now maybe he'll hear us when it's time to pick up, put shoes on, bathe, etc)

There were large wooden shoes to stand in, tire swings shaped like horses to ride, bumpy slides, and rows of flowers to explore. Truly it was a good day.

So here's the kicker. Not five minutes after leaving the tulip farm I hear from the backseat, "I'm hungry... I was really hoping to go to the zoo....or OMSI...can we stop at the art store...." I wish I could say that I took it all in stride and didn't take it personally. Because, I get it. Life at this age revolves around them. The activity was fun, but it's over now and what's next? But, it feels like a kick in the head sometimes. Sigh... I found myself using an ugly tone of voice, attempting to explain that they should be grateful for the day they had. That actually, No, we don't always say no. Didn't we say yes to the cow train? Didn't we say yes to the corn dogs and lollipops? Blah!

And let's not forget my inner dialogue which went something like this "I'm just gonna tell Patrick to take this car straight to the homeless shelter, I'm gonna show them just why they should be grateful. They think I say no now, wait until the next time they want me to read "Fancy Nancy" for the 17th time, yeah and yeah..."

It was not my finest moment, not because I don't think they could use a reminder of how good our life really is, no because I fell into their trap and made it be about me. And the point of the day was to have a good time as a family and relax. And we did, and it truly was a great day. And they won't remember that they didn't go to OMSI or the zoo. They will remember riding the cow train and laughing at silly knock knock jokes in the car. And that's what I'll remember, too.

So, here's to deep breaths and rolling with the punches. Now... I'm hungry.

The promise of spring

2011-01-31T19:38:00.001-08:00

Before the January "cold" returned this morning (I say with apologies to the majority of the country east of the Rockies who are buried in snow and wind) we had a week of"balmy" weather. It happens every Winter here in the Pacific NW. We get a few days of sunny, warm weather. The kind that makes you shed your heavy coats in favor of hoodie (or if you are a stubborn 4 year old, no coat at all) and sunglasses. It's glorious, and this year I received it more greedily then other years, I think perhaps because I still haven't recovered from 2010 the year that the Grey/Rainy season lasted until July.

Usually what happens when the false spring days arrive, I get carried away by the prospects of spring and I buy plants and dig in the garden. Some of the heartier plants survives while others

just barely cling on when the reality of February hits. So, this year I embraced my need to dig in other ways.

Ms L and I painted Terra Cotta pots and then filled them with dirt and seeds. Of course, true to her 4 year old "but I want it now" nature she anticipated seeds coming up within minutes of planting. When, under her watchful eye, that didn't happen, there was much concern and a flurry of activity. "They need more water," she insisted while pleading with me to bring in the watering cans from outdoors. "They need more light," she pleaded with me to move them to the library book chair where more sunlight could be had. It took a lot of words and persuasion to convince her that she'd just have to wait.

"Well okay, (insert a visual and audible harrumph here)I'll wait until

tomorrow." )

Random Thoughts and Quotes 2010

2010-12-23T14:11:00.000-08:00

If I have to play dinosaur train one more time today I might just become extinct myself. Just saying... CA

When getting ready for photos with my sisters yesterday I asked the kids how I looked. N replied, "Well... you don't look like an idiot" (great, just the look I was going for!)

N had his first solo in choir show yesterday. Turns out he didn't even want to sing the song. When asked why he said, "Because it was 'I don't want to grow up'. And I do want to grow up"

L: "mama, why did you tell us that?" Oh, I was just screwing with your heads. L: "But, why ?" Just kidding honey. Noah: "whew, that's good I thought you were gonna screw our heads right off!"

"i was eating so fast that I ate my boogers. They went down into my tummy, and that's why I have a cold" The divine Ms L

N: Mommy do you have an I-phone. Me: No, I do not. L: Of course not sillies, it's an EAR phone.

‎"but why do I have to wear pants, I want to feel the flow" Ms L

"mommy, can you give me some privacy? That means GET OOOOUUUT." Ms. L.

On the wall outside of the Kindergarten room is a row of self portraits by the kids. In the middle of it all: a T-Rex named Noah.

N: "Mommy, you are a genius" L: "that's right, and Daddy's a Buddhist."

If Noah is Encyclopedia Brown, then Lucy is Ramona.

"I don't want a time out, I want to live!" Says Ms L

If a puffin ate a cow, he would be big enough to take over the WHOLE world" ~ N

"Actually Mommy, it's not an necklace. It's a highly decorated tail of a Mamenchisaurus. Which as you know, was a plant eating quadruped dinosaur" ~N

Good morning world. The kids and I are making Green Eggs and Ham this morning. Mmm fresh spinach from the garden.

Noah quote of the week, "mama, I am never mischievous with my body"

N "Finally the bad dreams popped out of my head and are letting the good dreams have a turn"

Ms L reports she had a "furious" dream last night. There was a Moose-chipmunk that chased her around her bedroom.

"Hey kids your beans sprouted let's plant them and maybe you'll grow beanstalks." "NO!! We don't want giants in the house. Please don't let the giants come" And chaos ensued...

Today's invisible pet is a vulture. it lives on Noah's shoulder and his name is Pink-Black. When asked why, Noah patiently explains, "because vultures are pink and black" (the unspoken "duh" is loud and clear)

Me to Lucy after her bath, "mmm, you smell good honey." Lucy, "no I don't, I'm not a pizza"

"Mom, I use my fingers to put my spaghetti on my fork. You see, that way I am using good table manners" Noah

That spot in the back of your knee, that ticklish spot? Yeah, that's your knee-pit... according to Mr. N.

I don't know which was funnier today: Noah singing "Ring of Fire" in his best Johnny Cash voice or when he said, "They're really Rockin'out Mama" while listening to Journey on the stereo.

Bowling with the 5 and under set takes a looooong time. Pretty sure there's at least one ball that's still slo-o-o-wly rolling down the lane .

Thanks for dinner. It was Yum-credible!" Noah

what should we do for Daddy's birthday?" "Play pin the tie on the Patrick!" - says the ever creative Noah

2010 Nutcracker

2010-12-18T20:16:00.000-08:00

So every year I get the kids an ornament for the tree. I started this for N's first Christmas and so far I've managed to uphold the traditions. (I'm great with ideas, but confess that follow through is not always my strong suit when it comes to family traditions)

So this year comes along and L and I are headed to Freddy's and she says, "I want a nutcracker" "Really," I reply. I'm a little slow on the uptake and at first I think she means a metal v-shaped devise used to, well, crack nuts. After a few minutes of her insisting she really wants one, I begin to figure out what she means. "I want to dance with my own nutcracker" Ah-ha. The memories of the multiple viewing of her ballet video come crashing into my brain. The memory of her fascination the last time we were at the store with the nutcrackers.

I hem and I haw and I stall for a minute or two. And then I take a deep breath. "Okay," I say, "you can have a nutcracker." I surprise myself with this response, as I can be a stickler for the traditions I do manage to follow. (ask me to tell you about day one of this years cookie baking) But, I realize that this is her first year of really getting into the magic of Christmas and who cares what she wants.

We get into the store and after forcing her to get the groceries we need first, we finally find our way to the ornaments and nutcrackers. I never realized how difficult a choice it would be to pick out just the perfect one. She picked them all up, inspecting and rejecting many out right . But then there were big ones and little ones. I asked if she wanted one she could hang on the tree (okay, maybe I hadn't given up on the ornament that easily), but no she insisted it had to stand with the animals. (Nativity scene? No, the stuffed animals....duh) Finally she chose a red one. It came with a littler one at its feet. "I'll share that one with N."

She carefully took $2 out of her little pink purse and paid the over-worked and cranky clerk for the nutcracker. (the clerk apparently didn't understand my expressive eye-brow raising signals, which said, "She's paying her share, I'll pay the rest. Isn't she sweet?") And home we went.

She carefully put the nutcracker on the floor and proceeded to lie at stare at it for awhile. She rocked it a bit, and then danced for awhile. All in all a good afternoon.

Until... N came home.

I had forgotten that N had been with us the first time we had seen the nutcrackers. I had forgotten that he too was interested in them. I blissfully believed he would be ready to head off to the store and get an ornament with me. SIGH... once it was established that the nutcracker was indeed L's and not everyone's, there was a quick avalanche of tears. (really, over a nutcracker? Does no one see how ugly these things are but me?) So, N gets the choice. Ornament or nutcracker. He chooses a nutcracker. By now I don't even bat an eye when he chooses one dressed in camouflage.

Ho ho ho. One week until Christmas. Hope your week is a good one.

The World's most powerful computer.

2010-12-10T13:46:00.000-08:00

Inspired by Calvin and Hobbs. We present The world's most powerful computer. Starring N in his very own tattered box!

Halloween 2010

2010-11-01T21:27:00.000-07:00

It was a busy Halloween. So many costume choices, what to wear, what to wear. I wish I had a photo of Noah in his storm-trooper costume and giraffe mask. (it's the costume I was silently rooting for) Finally the lure of the sea chanties and dancing princesses could not be resisted. The kids went for outfits they've been known to wear on a daily basis. Ahhh... comfort in the everyday wear. (I think it's like me wanting to stay in jammies all day)

Happy Halloween from us!

I'm a banana slug

2010-10-04T19:40:00.000-07:00

Went for a walk today in Tryon Creek State Park with our friend Darcy today. It was a lovely crisp fall day and perfect for a walk.

Princess L was not inclined to go for a walk, or a hike, or leave the house for that matter, but we went anyway. First there was the refusal to wear her boots, then the discussion over which jacket/coat/sweater she wanted to wear. Then there was the tear filled episode over the car seat. Yes, the car seat. We recently moved N into a booster seat in the car and switched L over to his old car seat. Because N had outgrown his car seat L got it into her head that she had also grown out of hers. Well, not the case at all. Patrick has just always like N's better so we switched them, thus leaving hers at home, at the ready. But, nothing could convince her it wasn't too small. I continued to buckle her in anyway, and off we went. (When talking about our day at dinner this evening, she promptly told Daddy about the too small car seat)

We arrived at the park and she still didn't want to wear her boots (even if they are pink), it wasn't raining and appeared dry and it was only Monday, so I let it go. Off we went. It wasn't really a hike it was a meander. A lovely meander at that. L stopped to look at leaves and to pick up piles of dirt. She spotted a banana slug and while squeamish remained fascinated by it for the remainder of the walk. She wouldn't be hurried for anything. (a lesson for me in there somewhere I'm sure) and really just wanted to "be".

There was time for Pooh sticks off the Red Fox Bridge. Or in our case Pooh Leafs as leafs were more abundant then sticks. I'm pretty sure L's favorite part of the game is the dropping of the item and not the waiting to see it pass under the bridge. Why? Because as soon as it hit the water she's run to the other side and declare herself the winner (with nothing in sight yet) and then say, 'let's play it again!' And so we did...a lot. No matter, I like Pooh Sticks/leafs.

All in all for someone who didn't want to go she was a trooper and had a good time in spite of herself. Although at bedtime tonight she insisted the only thing she did all day was , "miss my brother

, N". Clearly, it's taking time to transition into this new life. But, we'll get there.

She did sing a lovely LONG song all the way home. It had many many verses about slugs, bats, monkeys, spiders and worms. I could only remember bits and pieces of it. What I could remember I share with you below. Enjoy!

I'm a banana slug

sticky, dirty slug

I'm beautiful, but I don't like to be touched.

I'm a little bat

I'm hanging upside down

I see a beautiful princess

but I'm too short....

I'm a little monkey

swinging on a tree

I fell and I have a princess Band-aid (c) on my knee

Struggling

2010-09-27T19:49:00.000-07:00

Hey y'all. I'm struggling with my new role as a stay-at-h0me mom. Which means I'm struggling to find things to write about, as I don't want this blog to become a whine-a-thon. I really enjoy writing and I love to write about my kids. But, I'm not quite able to put pen to paper or even fingers to the keyboard with much joy right now.

I knew the adjustment to they stay-at-home lifestyle would be difficult. I always said I wasn't the stay-at-home type. But, I also said I'd never be a mom, and if I was I wouldn't be a good one. Both of those statements turned out to be false, so who's to say I could n't make the next leap? I mean, obviously, I am a mom and I think I'm a pretty good one . But, I think part of the secret to my success was knowing my limits. But, I truly believed things and times had changed and I would LOVE the new chapter in my life. Oops, I don't love it. And that breaks my heart a little bit. Because, I really wanted to love it. I really wanted to jump in with both feet and relish the experience. But, I'm a fish out of water and it's hard.

This is a choice that I made and even proposed. This is what is currently best for our family and it's not forever. I don't think of it as a jail sentence, and I know Ms. L and I will find out groove. I just hope I don't lose my own groove in the meantime.

Kindergartener!

2010-09-13T20:03:00.001-07:00

Too tired... oh so tired....

look for real post soon.

zzzzzzzzz

Surfs up dude

2010-08-10T15:50:00.000-07:00

N fell in love with the ocean this camping trip. He had a blast. We couldn't get him out of the water until his lips were blue and he was shivering. Even then it was a battle and only with promises that he could go back in, once he was warm, could we successfully keep him out.

He started out slowly, like any sane person at the Oregon coast where the water is shockingly cold, first running in and then running out giggling all the way. He'd come back in for a few seconds. Laugh uproariously when the waves hit and then scamper back to dry land. But it didn't take long. Before we knew it he was begging to be on the boogie board and in the water ready to call, "ride the waves, dude!"

Finally, we put the kids in suits and traipsed back down to the beach. L was content to dig and roll in the sand (yes, like a puppy). N strapped on his life jacket and marched straight to the shoreline. He was determined. And while the actual boogie boarding idea was not a success, there was much joy to be had. He and Patrick stayed in the water for what seemed to be hours. They chased the waves back towards the horizon, giggled and laughed as the waves returned the favor chasing them to the shore. They'd stand still and jump as waves came crashing in. It was a sight of pure joy.

In addition to being pure joy to watch it was a snapshot into how much he has grown and changed since our last camping trip. Last year he put his toes in the water once deemed it too cold and that was that. Nothing could get him in the water again (last year it was in the 90s, this year the high 70s).

Last year he was content to dig in the sand and climb on a few logs on the beach. This year he wanted to try everything. He climbed to the top of the dunes at Cape Kiwanda, went on a nature hike, earned his JR Ranger badge and roasted his first marshmallows. There's no stopping this kid and his curiosity.

No dogs in the bathroom

2010-08-10T15:19:00.000-07:00

In this world there are those who follow the rules and those who don't. And somewhere in the midst of this are three year old girls. Ms L currently is a rule follower. Every time (and I mean every time) we went to the bathroom while camping she would stop and point out the signs at the entryway. "That's me when I 'm a grown-up," she'd say pointing at the woman. "See, you can tell because I don't have a dress on now." She would then remind me, "no smoking and no dogs allowed in the bathroom." We discussed what to do if we saw smoke in the bathroom (I was speaking of the smoke that comes from a fire, as I wasn't about to get into a moral/health discussion about smoking with her in the bathroom) We decided we would tell a Ranger right away. I did not address the issue of what to do if there was a dog in the bathroom, didn't think it would come up. Oh, silly, silly mommy. Really, I should have seen this coming. After all the gods certainly would want to reward such diligent behavior. "no smoking, no dogs" Didn't Miss L deserve a chance to show off her skills as a good rule follower? SIGH... Final morning, off we go (for what seems to be the umpteen-millionth trip to the bathrooms). First things first. Stop at the men's room to what, see if the sign has changed since we last walked by? "Look Mommy, it's the boys' room. There's N, when he's a grown up" Around the corner we go, stop, "Look it's the womens' bathroom. That's me! No smoking and no dogs allowed" We go in, and while waiting our turn, sure enough, in walks a woman with her dog. "MOMMY! There's no dogs allowed in the bathroom. No dogs allowed." She waits, briefly as if expecting me or someone to do something. (woman with the dog does a fine imitation of a wall, and hears nothing) "Well, I guess we'll just have to tell the Ranger." ...and scene.

LRW - Bee Whisperer

2010-07-30T21:56:00.000-07:00

This photo has nothing to do with this post. I just thought it was cute. She's a cowgirl in this photo. And yes the dress is on backwards, the boots are pink and it's a winter cap. Gotta a problem with that?

So, Ms. L's new favorite thing to do? She likes to stare at the bees in the lavender bush. She will then say, 'these are my bees'. Tonight she began catching bees in with her fingers (thumb and index) She'd look at them and say, 'they won't bite me, mama' then she let them go. I'm not sure how many she did this with before I began to count. But when I did count, I noted she had gently caught 10 bees, checked them out and set them free. Who does that?

Just another day in the life

2010-07-18T20:49:00.000-07:00

"Mama!!" Long knocks on the bathroom door. SIGH.... "who is it?" I call, knowing exactly who is knocking. If I'm in the shower, it's going to be L. "It's me! I have to go potty!" SIGH. "Come in" I hear her flounce in. There's a flutter of activity as she looks in the mirror, opens the linen closet doors in search of a band-aid. "I think my owie is bleeding,again." "It's not bleeding L. If you have to go potty go, otherwise please leave and shut the door behind you." ( All I want for Christmas is an uninterrupted shower. Hell, an uninterrupted moment in the bathroom)

"Mama, I want to take a shower WITH you" "L, you don't even like showers." "Yes, I do" "Really, Okay, sure... come on it" More flurry of activity while she disrobes. Another few minutes of stalling while she plays peek--a--boo with shower curtain. "L, if you want to get in, just get in. I'm almost done" "Okay"

L steps into the shower. I step out of the way to allow her to enjoy the shower experience. And after a look of shock disbelief followed by that special high pitched squeal that only young girls possess, she says to me in her most indignant tone, "but Mama, I didn't want to get wet in the shower!!!!"

Dirt Babies

2010-05-11T10:38:00.000-07:00

When we were at AGFEST 2010 a couple of weeks ago the kids made Dirt Babies. Below are the instructions and the results. I think that kids of all ages might dig this project.

Things you need : old stocking legs, dirt, grass seed, jar, various decorative doo-dads

1. Put large scoop of grass seed in toe of stocking (3 tablespoons or so)
2. Put about a cup or so of dirt on top of seed
3. Tie off stocking so you have a ball(trim of excess stocking but leave about 3 inches)
4. Decorate your dirt baby with face, ears at your whim - hat's not recommended
5. Put dirt baby in a jar with mouth just small enough for dirt baby to rest on and tail should be in water (photo should clarify this direction)
6. watch and be amazed!
7. Then your babies will need haircuts

One week after haircut!

How Does Your Garden Grow?

2010-04-26T14:43:00.000-07:00

The garden is beginning to take shape, hooray! Today we got garlic, onions, peppers and cosmos planted. The sunflower seeds have sprouted and we still have lettuce, spinach, and tomato starts to get in the ground. And let's not forget the pumpkin and cucumber seeds still awaiting their earthy new home. For those of you who have seen our yard, you must be wondering just where all these plants are going... trust me we are too!

I put the peppers in pots and plan to do the same with the lettuce and spinach. The garlic and onions have taken over the bed by the front door... mmm won't that be a fragrant greeting for our guests. tee hee. At least we'll keep Dracula and all his vampire buddies away. (Patrick and the children have been reading a delightful series of books featuring a bunny named Bunnicula, so the deterent is particularly timely this year.)

The kids had a great time this morning assisting with the gardening. Princess L was busy with the watering can and N dug the holes for the garlic and onions. When it came time to think about where to put the spinach I discovered that they were much more interested in eating the spinach then planting it. Finally I convinced them that we could have endless supplies of spinach for the spring/summer, but only if we actually got it planted. So the nibbling stopped, for now. I fully expect to find my children eating lettuce and spinach and peas right out of the garden all summer. And, you'll hear now complaints from me!

Despite my busy schedule at the theater these days we have managed to have some good family outings. Our most recent outing was to AG FEST 2010. It was truly a kids paradise. They took their first pony rides. "Mom, the ponies today were kind of mellow, next time I want to ride a fast pony." says my daredevil boy, N. L did ride the pony despite spending the entire car ride to Salem insisting that, "Little girls do not ride ponies. Little girls do not like ponies. I won't ride the pony!" We told her she didn't have to, and this of course prompted a change in attitude, "Little girls DO like to ride ponies!"

The kids had a blast checking out all the different animals, there were sheep, goats, rabbits, cows, llamas, and horses. Everyone was encouraged to pet the animals and ask questions. N was very excited and just couldn't decide where to start. L was a little shy at first and spent the first 10 minutes or so in my arms. As you can see she warmed up, eventually, and had a grand time petting and visiting with the animals. At every pen she would pick up a piece of hay or some sawdust and try and feed the animals. I don't think I was ever able to convince her that most animals don't really like saw dust!

As well as animals to see, there were plenty of hands on activities to do. N "milked" a wooden cow (which my friend Darcy says sounds like a euphemism for something not so kid friendly!)

They dug up potatoes (and then buried them again for others to find) they made dirt babies (look for a photo in a week or so) and had ice cream and fresh air. And that's how I will remember it. I won't remember the zillion times I had to say, "Stop" or "Wait" or the 7 seconds of terror I felt when L got out of my eyesight and she wasn't with Patrick. I won't remember the ache in the small of my back from carrying a three year old around the fairgrounds or the lingering headache I had all day. I won't remember how crowded it was or the feeling of claustrophobia I got walking around the exhibit hall. No, I really will remember the smiles on the kids faces while they had those first pony rides and when we said, "yes, you CAN have an ice cream bar" (even though you've had nilla wafers and a chocolate chip cookie already). Because those are the moments that really matter.

Super Snap and Captain Bubble

2010-03-29T20:04:00.000-07:00

Today was one of those spring days in Oregon when it rains, and rains, and then it pours for awhile and then goes back to more rain. Days like this are hard enough under normal circumstances, but we are currently in the midst of the rehearsal-going-into-performance cycle in our household. Which translates to child speak into Mommy is never home. So when she is home it's all about how much attention can we get from her and how close can we keep our bodies to her before she'll crack under the pressure. Now, I realize that my children are exactly that - children, and they are not equipped with the same understanding of time that adults are. They cannot comprehend the idea that 7 more weeks does not a life time make. In fact soon enough this will be but a blip on the radar. But to them it is an eternity and they want Mommy home now!

So, instead of a day at the park I daydreamed about on our recent glorious Saturday afternoon (I found myself gazing out the window during at least one of Iago's soliloquies - sorry, T0dd) we had a day trapped inside. Before anyone suggests I should have just decked everyone out in our rainy day gear and gone puddle stomping, I'll say it crossed my mind. But, one has the sniffles and one has the case of the three-year old-itis, it just wasn't happening today.

Now, if you ask my children what we did today, they are liable to tell you nothing. And they way they were begging me to play hide and seek (for the 2nd time) this evening you would have thought I hid from them all day leaving them to their own entertainment. To that I say, oh hohoho n-n-n-no. I was in pretty good form today. There was craft time and stories. There was couch pirate ship sailing across the mighty ocean to the undiscovered territory of Toyland. There was breakfast, lunch and a lovely variety of fruit mid-morning snack. There was trains, paper dolls and bed trampoline races. There were more stories, and chores (Oh, yes I made them each put away one pile of clean laundry and pick up their toys when done -the horror!) I'm telling you it was a full day. I was exhausted.... it was only 1:30. Hooray for "rest time"

Rest time used to be called nap time. But nobody naps anymore. They both could use naps, but have declared themselves too old. So it's rest time, it is. Piles of books and sleepy children head to separate rooms and they read. Some days, if we are lucky, L will still fall asleep. But, I think she's too busy listening for N (who gets to watch the clock and come out at the appointed time on his own) to come bounding out of the room. For usually mere moments after he comes tearing out she's right behind asking oh so coyly, "is N up yet?" as if she doesn't see him standing directly in front of her!

This is the time of day when I usually begin to crack. We try to limit the tv/computer time. But on days like today it's so easy to give in when N turns to me with his sweetest smile and says, "May I have computer time, please?" So, to the computer he goes and Miss L is right there beside him and for 30 blissful minutes I sit on the couch reading cheap magazines or detective novels. (Rest time may be for housework or dinner prep, but computer time is lounging time!)

When all is said and done it wasn't a bad day. Oh L got 3 time outs and N sobbed as if the world would end when he couldn't watch a video tonight. But those things go with the territory.

If you ask me my favorite part of the day was making the masks below for "Super Snap" (N) and "Captain Bubble" or "Bug Girl" (L). But as you see in the above photo, I think their favorite part of the day was pretending to be kitties in the yarn used for the mask making.

Oh, and a giant shout out to Patrick for making the biscuits for dinner with the kids. YUMMM!!

I'm three!

2010-03-08T13:14:00.000-08:00

I'm three, I'm three, I'm three! Mommy had planned to write this blog on her own, but the truth is I like to do EVERYTHING myself, so I'm doing it. No, I'm serious if mommy or daddy lift me into my car seat I'm gonna just climb back out and get in it myself. If mommy picks out something for me to wear, I'm gonna just toss it back in the drawer and pick out something else. (and usually something much cuter, I might add) Yep, I am an independent gal.

I am enjoying being three. It's like I woke up one day and suddenly I'm a big girl. Mommy says that sometimes this new found independence can make me a bit of a drama queen. I'm not sure what she's talking about, doesn't everyone cry over the details? I mean it is very important how my carrots are sliced (or not sliced depending upon the day). It is a huge deal if I don't get to have PB&J EVERY DAY. If mommy would just learn this then I wouldn't cry on the days she tries to sneak in ham and cheese.

I really enjoy playing with my magnetic paper dolls. I know it can drive mommy crazy when I want her to dress and undress the dolls with me all afternoon. I'm pretty sure she thinks I'm trying to gas-light her with this little game, but really I just love my dolls. My favorite one is Annie. It's most important that she have just the right outfit on when it's time to go to her dance class, and no, it can't be the blue shoes it must be the pink ones...and again it's very important to the happiness of the entire world.

Speaking of dance class I had a wonderful dance party for my birthday. Did you know that I am really Angelina Ballerina? It's true. I love to spin and twirl and dance around the house in my tutu. I also love to throw in pratfalls from time to time. It's okay, I'm good at pratfalls (l learned them from my big brother N. He's the best) so I never get hurt. I hope I get to take dance classes this summer.

N and I are learning how to play together. Sometimes we fight and I'm not as good as sharing as he is, but hey I've only be three for a couple of months now. There's a lot on my plate these days. Some days I want to do whatever it is that N is doing. I like to play with his trains, I'll eat whatever he's eating, play tag or sit quietly reading on the couch with him. I think that some days I bother N, but it's just because I love him so much and he's my best friend.

Mommy interjects here. N had a bad day a few weeks ago when he and a school chum were having a communication troubles over the term "best friend". This is the conversation that Daddy overheard in the car are the way home:

L "it's okay N you're my best friend, right?"
N "Right, and you're mine."

I enjoy painting and coloring and all kinds of crafts. If I could I would have craft day every day, especially if Mommy would let me use scissors and markers all the time. That would be soooo great. I love being outdoors and picking flowers and digging in the dirt. Well, I liked digging in the dirt until I discovered that is where worms live... I don't like worms, at all. I dislike worms so much that I have myself convinced that every stick we see on the sidewalk is a potential worm waiting just for me. Although mommy thinks I might be moving out of my worm hating phase as today I drew a picture of worms in the dirt. (but, I might just surprise her with a loud screech on our next walk, just to remind her who decides when I'm done with this phase her or ME)

The other big news is that I practically potty trained myself. I just woke up one Sunday and announced I wanted to wear underwear and so I did. And I've been doing it ever since. I haven't had very many accidents (although some times I think boys have it easier in the aiming department. And I am learning that it's hard to watch yourself pee and keep it all in the potty at the same time) I haven't mastered it completly, but I love, love, love wearing underwear almost as much as I love wearing my cherry boots (and I try to do that everyday) so I'm working hard to keep them clean and dry.

I sure am looking forward to being three for awhile, although I still don't understand why I can't just have another birthday party this week so I can turn 4. But, I guess N get to have the next party and then he'll be 5. WOW...that's gonna be great.

Gratitude

2010-03-08T08:35:00.000-08:00

For a few years now we've been saying grace at dinner time.

We are grateful for the food on the table
The many hands that helped provide it.
We are grateful for the time we get to spend together as a family
We ask for blessings on those less fortunate then ourselves
And, as always, we pray for Peace. Amen.

This served us well for a few years. It induced some giggles when Mommy would forget the line about family (perhaps, subconsciously after a particularly long day?) or when the kids began to say it and tripped over works like 'less fortunate" . The end is always said with great enthusiasm, and volume.

A couple of weeks ago I felt that, like many routine things, the pray had become...well...routine. So, instead of beginning the prayer I asked what everyone was grateful for. I have been amazed at what has come from the kids. I'm not sure what I expected, but I did not expect them to take the idea and run with it. Oh sure, there are days when they are grateful for a tv show or a toy. But other days we get some thoughtful responses:

L - I am grateful for 'No-No' (what she sometimes calls her brother)

N- I am grateful for going to the library

L - I am grateful that the sun peeked out from behind the clouds, and that the clouds are big so rain can fall from them.

N- I am grateful for my friend Dylan

Me, I'm grateful for those glimpses at the end of a day that show me we are, indeed, doing some things right. Amen

Spring fever bites hard

2010-02-27T13:47:00.000-08:00

Spring fever has hit the Wohlmut family. Well, certainly Mommy and the kids have been struck. Today, despite the fact that it is only March 1st, we headed off to Fred Meyer with wagon in tow in search of plants and seeds. We came home with a full wagon of pansies, tulips, daffodils, crocuses, and another bloomer that lost it's little tag so it has no name. In addition to the color spots to put directly into the ground we came home with more seeds then our little plot of land can possibly handle. Sigh... I couldn't help myself, the kids are so enthusiastic about wanting to grow vegetables and dig in the earth, how could I say no?

It was fun to watch the kids study the labels and decide what they wanted to get. N, able read the packages , took his time reading each package. He picked out cucumbers, carrots, Dwarf sunflowers, mini pumpkins and sweet peas. L picked out things based on their photos, Mammoth Sunflowers, Nasturtiums and Jack-o-Lantern pumpkins. (it occurs to me that she might think they grow this way. Ah well, cross that bridge when we come t0 it) They are both very curious and full of anticipation for their garden to begin. I am sure I will be answering the question, "Can we plant our seeds today" daily for the next two months.

I admit I cheated and dug in the dirt and planted the daffodils and pansies all by myself while the kids were napping. I know, I know, how selfish of me! But, I'm about to dive into 6 weeks of rehearsal and another 6 week run of a show, so a little me time in the dirt is just what the doctor ordered. AND since I always get carried away, there's plenty left for them to help me tomorrow (weather permitting) or Sunday.

One of the more delightful moments of the day had nothing to do with gardening. Rather it centered around L's grand forays into the world of "girly" things and Mommy's habit of jumping to well, silly conclusions. Still in FM we were about to leave and L spots the row of barrettes, hair do-dads and other sparkly things. She makes a beeline for the display and is picking out barrettes fast and furiously. I talk her down off the sparkly ledge, as it were, and we agree to one card of barrettes. Then I hear N say, "Can I have some, too?" Well, why not? I'm a modern mom after all. . So after we agree that he'll share them with L after he's done with them he picks out a sparkly pair w/butterflies and we're on our way home. We get home and I get L all decked out - she had to wear all 6 barrettes at once as she just couldn't pick one pair. I turn to N and ask him if he'd like help or can he put the barrettes in himself. He looks at me quizzically and says, "I don't want to wear them. I'm pretending they are geese so they're gonna fly. Honk. Honk." Ah, of course you are...silly mommy....

So, how was your day?

thank you for your patience we'll return soon

2010-02-05T11:07:00.000-08:00

Show closes Monday. Working on a new posting. see you soon.

a lullabye for N and L by Mommy

2010-01-24T18:06:00.000-08:00

Dragons Dragons go away
Come again by the light of day.
We don't care if you breathe fire,
cause we know we can jump higher.
Dragons, dragons go away
Come again by the light of day.

Monsters, Monsters stay away
come again by the light of day.
We don't want to see you face
better go back to your own place.
Monsters, monsters stay away
Come again by the light of day.

(Sung to the tune of Twinkle Twinkle little star)

Sometimes you gotta do, what you gotta do to keep those nighttime critters away.

A big brother emerges

2009-12-27T08:13:00.000-08:00

Asked the kids to hug

L adores her big brother, she just does. She follows him around, much to his dismay sometimes, wanting to do whatever he does. He's building a Lego helicopter and she's right in the thick of things wanting to build too. I think it's sweet, N not so much.

But just this morning I heard him very carefully explaining to her the difference between two Thomas trains. Thomas trains are very important to him and you don't just call them anything you want, no they have names and numbers and status in the railway hierarchies. This lore is sacred and must not be deviated.

N was having a go at some games on the computer and L was by his side watching, when she began to call a certain train by the wrong name. And the more N protested the more she pushed his buttons by insisting she was right. As I waited for the inevitable blow up, or "Mommy, make her stop," I heard him take a deep breath and say, "No, L, look at this." And he proceeded to show her that Percy was a green engine with the number 7 and what shape he was etc. He then showed her a picture of Gordon and pointed out his qualities. Now, I'm sure L already knows all this, but it didn't matter. She was his devoted student taking it all in and asking questions. And, I was so proud of L as he stepped right into big brother mode, he was talking to her not at her and sharing... it was so sweet.

While the rest of the day may have been filled with sibling squabbling and button pushing, that moment was a keeper. And I believe a glimpse into the future of what a great relationship they can have.

Quotes of the Year.

2009-12-14T18:43:00.000-08:00

Noah: "Five more days until December, and then it snows!" Another child disappointed by the elements.

"Lucy, do you want me to take your braids out" Pause, pause. "Take my brains out"

CA and/or Patrick: “You get what you get, and you don't throw a fit”

Somehow we got on the subject of the grammatical use of the word 'none' at the dinner table. Out of nowhere Noah chimes in with, "There are no nuns around here".

Patrick, seeing the kids' room, “dear god woman, how did you survive the day”. Me: Ha,hahahahahahahahaha.....

"Daddy, can I have a piece of cheese-y, there's a mousey in my belly" The divine Ms. Lucy, in her best mousey voice

Noah: “Geckos don't like it too hot. Otherwise their bones will dry up and blow away in the hot sun”

Today Lucy argued with me that the color of toothpaste I was using was the wrong color.

N wants modeling clay to which I say, "hmm, I'm not sure I'm ready for modeling clay in the house kiddo." To which he replied, "All women, no matter how big or how small are always ready for modeling clay, mama”

Lucy: "Noah you are very deep" Noah: "Yeah, but I'm not as deep as she thinks I am"

"Noah, why is your hair wet?" "Because I stuck my head in the toilet." "Why?!?!" "Because I wanted to...." This from the boy who reads his encyclopedia for fun....

Nothing like waking up to a sweet girl voice singing "love, love me do. You know I'll be true" in your face.

CA/PW: are you okay?
L: Mmm-hmmm
CA/PW: can you speak?L: Mmm-hmmmm
CA (slightly exasperated) Can you say your name?
L (w/perfect timing and without missing a beat) : PRINCESS

"Sometimes, just sometimes, when no one is looking you fly" N said to me with all sincerity.

"Look Daddy, my nose is melting". (Apparently the divine Ms Lucy has learned to cross her eyes)

Noah says, "Mommy you will have another baby and we will call him Roquefort" When I told him that wasn’t going to happen he said, "oh yes it will. You have plenty of room for an egg in your tummy. You'll see Mommy, it will be a good thing" (for the record we are having no more children!)
”
“Once upon a time there were some letters, they all lived in a school. They lived happily ever after. The End.” by Lucy River

“Taste of Peanut Butter
Taste of Jelly
Taste of Bread
Taste of the Heart eating my blood”.

Dear Santa

2009-12-10T11:13:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa:

Do you yawn? Do you spit raspberries, just kidding...

My wish list

1. legos

2. another tutu

3. coloring book

4. a princess

5. please say ho-ho-ho.

please bring daddy new paints.

Love, L

Dear Santa:

I love you. Thank you for the note. Love N

PS here's my wish list

1. Emily, Toby and Gordon (Thomas train friends)

2. Yellow road worker - who lives on the island of Sodor

3. A new floor puzzle, please make it as big as our house

4. new train tracks

5. Lightning McQueen craft kit

6. They Might be Giants - Here come the 1-2-3s (it's a cd)

Please bring Daddy new clown make up, because L used all his old make up.

Love, N

2009-12-06T07:19:00.000-08:00

We went on our first family Christmas tree hunt on Saturday. There was no tears, no whining, no yelling and no one cut their finger off with the saw. It was a great success. It was a spontaneous trip, which are as rare as hen's teeth in our family of two preschoolers, a stage manager and a planner. But we did it. We had intended to go to a local lot, pick out a tree and be done with it, but the the lure of a long-held wish of mine proved to strong.

I have a vague memory of going to "the" mountain with my sisters and various assorted family members and friends when I first moved to the Pacific NW. I don't know if it's romance of the passage of time that makes it a or the the spiked hot cocoa. Either way, it's been a wish of mine to take my children up the mountain to recreate a sort of Walton's mountain Christmas tree hunt adventure (don't kid yourselves, you know John and Grandpa had some of the Baldwin sisters' "recipe" with them on those cold winter days)

As I thought about various ways to propose this adventure to the troops the stage manager/worrier/practical/boring side of me began to gnaw at my conscious. There are so many things that can go wrong on an adventure like this (do we learn nothing from the evening news people!) And it really would take us about 2 hours to get the appropriate clothing lined up, provisions, maps, permits, books for the car, Christmas cds to listen to, and "damn, did N take a potty break", "Where's L's pink blankie" on and on... I could envision us in our old, smelly, w/no tire chains car getting half way to the mountains only to realize we had no earthly idea what the hell we were doing.... Somehow the spontaneous magic was fading.

What to do, what to do. Obviously we could grab the little red wagon and trek on over to Fred Meyer or Walgreens, pay the clerk with the Santa hat and a cranky attitude some money and call it good. We could drive to a local neighborhood lot walk up and down the rows of trees pulling them out one by one and turning and posing them. (it's a science people!) All the while trying to keep fun alive in a parking lot for two small children who are wrapped up in the magic of the season this year.

Nope none of those ideas appealed. So, a quick googling of "Christmas trees Oregon" gave me the perfect compromise. There staring back at me was the golden ticket. A tree farm on Sauvie Island where we could let the kids run loose and we could pick our tree- fresh. And hell ,it would already be standing, so we could walk around it, viewing on all sides, to make sure it was perfect. Throw in a $5 off coupon and I was sold!

Off we went! Properly bundled from the elements, a quick stop at coffee shop for caffeine and a sweet treat for the kids. I found the 24-7 Christmas music station and the scene was set for a lovely outing.

"Are we going to the pumpkin patch" "Can I pick the apples" "Oooh, can I climb the hay pyramid again" "where's the corn maze" Hmmm, guess we spend a lot of time on Sauvie Island thru out the year. Careful explanation of where we were going, with repeated telling of same information, finally sunk it. "ohhh, it's a Christmas tree farm" "What's a Christmas tree farm?" "Rudolph the red-nosed reindeer!!"

It was a small farm, and their first year in operation. It was not crowded at all. Patrick got the law of the land and the saw

N and L grabbed the tree wagon and the fun began.

Now I'd like to say we spent hours chasing each other around the trees shrouded in mist. I'd like to say the adventure lasted longer then drive to Sauvie Island. But the truth is, we trooped into the tree field, looked at about 6 trees. Spotted the tree we liked, took some photos, Patrick cut the tree down and voila we were done. We paid for our tree, kids got candy canes and we headed home. It was a perfect trip!

untitled poem - by N

2009-12-01T22:50:00.000-08:00

Taste of Peanut butter

Taste of Bread

Taste of Jelly

Taste of my Heart
eating my blood.

~N. Wohlmut Age 4

When he recited this poem to me today, I swear there was a twinkle in his eye that said, 'heh, heh, heh, I'm gonna freak my mom out with this."

He also said, "because that's what hearts do, Mom. They eat our blood and then pump it out"

and the magic of the season begins

2009-11-26T21:54:00.000-08:00

L expected Santa for Thanksgiving dinner. Now, I'm not sure where she got that idea. The best theory I can come up with is this one: N and I were talking about Santa about a month ago and I said we should wait until after Thanksgiving to write out letters and get into the Christmas spirit. She must have heard bits and pieces and came up with Santa's coming for dinner. I told her he probably wouldn't come. N was more direct, "He'll be too busy watching the elves making toys. Then he'll go golfing" But from time to time over the past few weeks L would ask if Santa was coming for Thanksgiving, and we'd have to tell her know.

For a brief and shining moment I thought about it. We could have pulled it off, and have friends willing to step up and make it happen. But, I know how these things work, if you do it one year, you'll have to do it year after year. And long after the truth is out, it will still be expected. And reality says I was just not willing to make a commitment to Santa for dinner for the next 5-10 years.

However, I wanted to do SOMETHING. I mean how cute is it that L wants to have dinner with Santa? So, when we came home from dinner w/family we found the following ltr in our door. With this letter was a photo of Santa (our dear friend James who came complete with suit at 10pm last night - after work and rehearsal- so I could take photos. )

Reactions - pretty quiet, but the you could see the wheels turning. And just before bedtime N turned to me and said, "Mom, that letter was just for me and L. Just so you know" I'm pretty sure the magic is working already.

Thanksgiving 2009

Dear Noah and Lucy:I hope you had a wonderful Thanksgiving with your family. I stopped by to say hello, but it looks like you are still at your Aunt Robbin’s house.

I just wanted to remind you to send me your wish lists, have your Mommy or Daddy mail them to me at the North Pole. That’s where the elves and are busy making toys for all the good little girls and boys. Are you two still being the great kids I know you are?

Have a wonderful holiday season. I can’t wait to see your tree when I come by on Christmas Eve. Remember, I always come after everyone is all snug in their beds.

Love, Santa

PS I sure do like your mom’s sugar cookies and don’t forget to leave a carrot out for the reindeer, they get hungry pulling my sleigh!

What keeps you up at night?

2009-11-18T13:39:00.000-08:00

I know, I know, it's the bills and the job, it's the kids and the braces, and the commute and the gas prices, and the government and the health plan, and the Thanksgiving and Christmas plans (family or no family). I know about all that, but what about that crazy stuff that no one else thinks of, and maybe I'm the only one, who knows....

When the wind's a howlin' and the trees are shaking I wish my first thought was how blessed I am to be in a warm home next to a loving husband with children tucked all snug in their beds. But, I confess that is not my first thought. My first thought is What if the tree falls on the house, followed by and if it falls on the house will it fall on our room or the kids' room. And it just keeps going from there. What if all the trees (we really don't have any trees in that close proximity to the house mind you) fall on the house at once, trapping us all in. Will Patrick or I be able to get to the children? And what if power lines have fallen outside the house, so now there's no electricity to the house and yet live power lines dancing on the sidewalk. How will the firefighters get to us. And will I be one of those super-hero moms who lift the giant tree off my children's bunk bed with one hand while single handedly wrapping an ace bandage around Patrick's fracture leg or will I stand frozen in the midst of the disaster unable to move to comfort my crying children let alone move the trees.

And then there's the scenario where Patrick comes home later then expected from a meeting and so of course he's been in a car accident and one of the children has once again accidently unplugged the house phone and my cellphone battery will probably be dead so no-one will be able to reach me. And if they do it will be to ask me if he is an organ donor which, oh I'm sure he is, but what will his parents want, and how do I get to the hospital to sign the papers with two sleepy children in tow and do I call the in-laws to meet me at the hospital or do I let them have their last quiet night's sleep? Do I try and find a neighbor to watch the kids or take them so they can see Daddy.... and how much was that damned life insurance policy for anyway, and I'm not in any way shape or form ready to be a single parent and oh my.....

oh, there's the keys in the door. He's home.

So, what keeps you awake at night?

Did I mention that little teeny rash on N, that no one else can see....

why I let Superman jump off furniture

2009-11-08T14:04:00.001-08:00

Just look at that smiling boy.

Ready

Set

FLY!!!!!!

baking cookies the Wohlmut Family Way circa 2009

2009-11-01T06:51:00.000-08:00

1. Gather all ingredients and interested parties.

2. Referee disputes over who gets to put what ingredients in the bowl.

3. Take a deep breath and count to 10.

4. Ignore large piles of flour on the table, it all cleans up.

5. Ignore that extra scoop of sugar going into the bowl...no one eating these cookies is expecting to stay on their diet.

6. Let Noah crack the egg(s). Think..."the frosting will cover any shards of eggshell, won't it?"

7. Warn Lucy that the mixer will be turned on momentarily. Lucy should then proceed to hide in the bedroom with Daddy. Afterall, the mixer is "too loud!"

8. Find the stool so Noah can reach the bowl.

9. Have a quicky safety lesson about eletric appliances.

10. Make a quick sign of the cross and tell N he can turn on the mixer.

11. Wait,

12. and wait.

13. Try not to sigh audibly as N decides he too would rather hide in the bedroom w/Daddy and L until the mixer is off.

14. Mix ingredients, don't forget to add time in for interruptions from children every time you stop the mixer, "are you done with the mixer yet? Okay, don't turn it on 'til I'm back in the bedroom"

15. Listen to pitter patter of feet running down the hall, wait for door to close. And resume mixing.

16. Chill the dough for an hourLet N put the saran-wrap over bowl (amazingly he will be better at this then you are)

17. During this hour you will be required to play a variety of games, most having to do with dinosaurs. Or you may be asked to read the same book again and again to Ms. L.

18. Try and slip in a shower, you'll feel better.

19. Dough is ready!

20. Agree that the farm animal cookie cutters are just as Halloween-ish as Ghosts and Pumkins.

21. Roll out dough.

22. See N dumping a pile of flour on the table. "the duck needs a pond to swim in" (remember why you didn't want to get the farm animal cookie cutters out)

23. Take a step back from the table, breath and remember baking cookies with kids is not really about the cookies, it's the 'process'. Count to ten and repeat if necessary.

24. After about 20-30 minutes of kids pounding cookie cutters into the dough, making footprints w/the animals, arguing over who gets which rolling pin you should have enough cookies on a sheet to put in the oven.

25. Realize you just don't have the energy to make more then two sheets worth, breath...

26. Have Daddy strip children of their flour covered clothing, and clean them up.

27. Stare at the mess and wonder if the pick-up fairy has a cousin who does kitchens.

28. Remove cookies from oven.

29. Let kids have a cookie each, no matter how close it is to a mealtime.

30. Put remaining dough in the fridge, and plan to finish cookies after kids go to bed.

31. Look at kids eating their cookies, listen to their joy in talking about the 'turkey' and 'cow' cookies.

32. Smile...breath

33. Clean up and if necessary take another shower.

Monday, Monday.

2009-10-26T19:42:00.001-07:00

This is what greeted me this fine Monday morning. I knew I should never have rolled over for "five more minutes" of sleep. Oh, but the wind was howling and the rain was pelting the windows. I just had a feeling it was going to be a long day and I was going to need all my strength. Besides, N wasn't even up yet and Patrick told me that L was happily mezmerized by Curious George on PBS. So, really what could go wrong?

20 minutes later I hear N at my bedside, "mooommmy, I'm hungry" "Okay, buddy I'm getting up" I roll out of bed, grab my bathrobe, stumble down the hall and... "Holy Shi....." (bite my tongue) What a sight! I really don't know what to do first, pee, laugh, cry or clean her up. So, being who I am, I naturally get the camera first, take a picture, pee and then begin to clean her up.

Grease paint, clown make up, this-shit's-never-gonna-come-off-is -it stuff! Out came the baby wipes, they did a little damage control. I must have spent five minutes trying to get the baby oil opened, because now my hands are covered in grease paint and some genius has decided that baby oil needs a child proof cap on it! Breathe... Put the child in the bathtub. Oh, now it's all fun and games. "I need a toy mommy" Reach for the soap, blink for just a second, and voila now she's washing her hair w/her grease paint covered hands. Shampoo, lather, rinse, repeat as necessary.

20 minutes later and things are somewhat restored to normal. There's still a slight rim of white around her eyes, but I'll deal with that later. Breakfast is now 40 minutes late and we have a play date arriving in 20 minutes. Okay, I'm gonna take a quick two minute show. Everyone cool with that? I mean I do it every day without incident. Today will be just fine.

6 minutes later. "Mommy, L's dumped the whole box of Multi-Grain Cheerios (tm) all over the kitchen floor"

"The whole box, really? That's funny N"

"But, Mommy they're everywhere"

"Shit!"

Grab the robe and the broom, and what the hell the camera too.

... L trots off to her room to get a broom and sweeps up right along side me. (sorry no photo proof of that...ha!) We get the mess cleaned up, breakfast on the table. It is only 10am.

What I learned today

2009-10-13T14:58:00.000-07:00

Today I learned to always check that the keys you grab on your way out the door are actually the keys to the door. I learned that libraries close when the power outage lasts longer the 10 minutes. I learned that coffee shops, however, will stay open whether they can run the register or not.

Today I learned that you might be able to get the screens off the windows to the house, but if the panes are shut tight there's no breaking in. I learned that using a credit card or debit card is not really an efficient way to get back into your house. I learned that it is possible to climb on top of two lawn chairs w/out falling (don't try this one at home kids) but it really doesn't give you that much more height.

Today I learned my kids are troopers. That to them being locked out of the house w/out keys or cellphone is not a big deal. A trip to the coffee shop and then the local art store are a grand adventure. (why I had my debit card in my pocket is still a mystery, but I'll thank the fairies for it just the same) I learned that pretty much, as far I can tell, my entire neighborhood works day jobs. (or won't open their house to a strange women and two kids) I learned that even on the windiest of fall days L would rather take her coat off then wear it, 'any more time!'

Today I learned that swinging on the neighbors front porch w/my kids is a great joy and I'm secretly glad no one was home. I learned that there is plenty adventure to be had in my neighborhood even when the wild winds are blowing, the power is out and no else seems to be home.

Today I learned that sometimes an unfortunate turn of events can be turned into a grand adventure. Although I'm sure its safe to say that by the end of the 2nd hour we were all tired of our new coloring books (that we could only read as the colors are in the house), and playing hopscotch in the wind.

Note to self - grab the right keys and put you cellphone in your pocket!

Fall preview

2009-10-08T12:43:00.001-07:00

Fall is here! We've been to the corn maize and the pumpkin patch. This weekend it's the apple festival with apples and even more pumpkins! The Wohlmut's are out and about and enjoying the bounty of harvest time in Oregon. I hope you, dear readers, are out enjoying these beautiful bountiful days as well.

The kids continue to grow by leaps and bounds. N no longer looks like a baby or even a toddler. He looks like a BOY! Every time I look at him I am amazed at how much he has grown and changed. As fast as his body is changing, his mind is changing even faster. He's reading all that he can get his hands on these days. Can't find him, chances are he's sitting on his bed pouring over his "Living Life" encyclopedia. In addition to the reading he surprised me this week by writing out "Tasmanian devil", not only did he write it but asked no help from me for the spelling of the words! He also wrote out the word snowflake, but that word was really all the letters on the page, like a hunt a word jumble you had to put them together yourself. Still, this is one of those moments when I say...'he's only 4?'

L, is our budding artist and resident comic in training. Tell her its going to be a craft day, and she'll scramble to the kitchen table faster then you can say, 'jackrabbit'. She likes it all markers, crayons, stamps, stickers and water colors. She make smiley faces and apples, and whatever else strikes her fancy (the above is entitled "clown") Beware however, turn your back and she's apt to have drawn kitty whiskers on her face and stamped hearts on the kitchen table. (This artist's muse must not be contained.)

Got a joke to tell? L will laugh at it and then promptly steal it, she'll find her version of the joke so funny that she'll laugh too hard to even get it out. She never tires of knock knock jokes or pratfalls. She'll leave 'em laughing in the aisles even as she's breaking their hearts.

Never a dull moment with these kids.

More photos and tales of the grand autumnal adventures to arrive after the weekend's festivities.

He's Four

2009-09-13T16:16:00.000-07:00

N approaches a new teacher at preschool this week.

"What's your name again?"

"Melinda."

N walks away. Time passes, N returns.

"M-E-L-I-N-D-A Melinda"

"Wow, did you read that somewhere?

"No, I sounded it out. It's only three syllables"

He's Four?!?!?

N and I reading quietly on the couch. I hear some sniffling from time to time. I absentmindedly ask if he needs a tissue, without actually looking up. "no," comes the reply. Sniffing continues. I notice out of my peripheral vision that N is licking his hands, like kitty paws, repeatedly. Often.

"N, why are you licking your hands?"

"Because they have snot on them."

He's Four.

Playing Doctor

2009-09-06T14:30:00.000-07:00

Some kids play house or school. I played hospital. I remember that this was something that I did on my own, without other kids. We had an old metal baby-doll crib with sides that went up and down that made a perfect hospital bed. So it was there that baby Tender-Love tm (I cannot recall her name, probably because my mother always suggested names for my dolls and it never occurred to me that I could choose one on my own) spent many a day and night ‘recovering’. She had lots of surgeries and even more casts.

Ah the casts. It took me a long time to get the formula for the casts just right. First I tried strips of Kleenex in baby powder and water. That was a bust. The baby powder just floated on top of the water and would never create a paste. Then I tried just using wet Kleenex-but that just became a mess of wadded up wet tissues. Finally it was a combination of flour water and paper towels that did the trick. It took awhile to create the casts as all of the ingredients had to be obtained when no one was looking (in other words 'stolen') The water was the easiest to obtain. The paper towel a bit trickier, as I didn't want to draw attention to the fact that there might be a mess to clean up (why else would I need a paper towel?) But still the paper towels were easier then the flour.

The flour was kept in a tin way up on a shelf above the stove. Getting the flour required moving the stool over to the stove and then climbing on top of the stove top to get the canister down. The next trick was to get the lid off with out making any noise or without getting flour everywhere. Somehow I managed to get it all accomplished and downstairs I went to cast her up. That poor doll had casts from head to toe. (Funny, I don't recall if they ever dried or how I got them off. Certainly not a saw like they used in the hospital on me!)

When she had casts on both legs then the iv bottle could be hooked up as well. This was a ingenious invention, if I do say so myself, of an empty glass medicine bottle, telephone wire, and a sewing needle with an eye big enough to get the wire through . Once the wire was secured to the bottle and the needle attached to the wire than the everything was ready and the iv could be inserted. Yes, it’s true that poor doll not only was bound in plaster but now she would have needle stuck into her arm as well. By the end of that dolls career as a professional patient she had more track marks then a junkie on Burnside. I'm not sure that doll ever recovered.

It doesn't take a genius to figure out why I played hospital with my dolls and animals. I spent much of my childhood in and out of various body casts. Sometimes there were surgeries involved, other times it was simply traction and then casts. (hmmm, and I wondered why that full body mud wrap at that fancy spa led to an anxiety attack) In between the surgeries, tests, casts, doctor visits and wheel-chair rides I did my best to be a 'normal' kid. But, just about the time I got back into the swing of it...childhood... there be a "new" procedure awaiting me and I'd loose traction (no pun intended) and it would be months before I could be 'normal' again.

Normal... who needs it? Not me...not now. :-)

Mommy, do you want to see my joints?

2009-08-27T13:36:00.000-07:00

I think I have two of the funniest children on the planet. I know everyone thinks that about their kids, but I’m pretty sure it’s true in our case. The difference between the two is that N is more often then not unintentionally funny, ("Mommy, I wanted a Happy Meal, not a Sad meal") Whereas L has figured out funny early on and runs around intentionally making us laugh ("ptzzz-blech-pooo!! Is that a Funny noise, Mommy?!")

N and I had a delightful conversation about Monsters and Villains at lunch yesterday. It was so delightful that I actually stopped him so I could go and get my journal. The next thing I know he is seriously dictating to me the ‘facts’ he’s learned about certain Monsters and Villains. I’ll pass some of this information onto you, after all it could come in handy some day (especially if you are headed to Scotland) For instance did you know that real witches live in Scotland and have hoods and not pointed hats? The other kind of witches have pointy hats and will capture you to put in their pots of people stew. (beware travelers as they also live in Scotland.)

What does N have to say about Werewolves, you ask? Well, they also live in Scotland. Should you encounter them you’ll be able to identify them by the following: they have hair everywhere and wear pants and shirts. They also have underwear on under their pants, but you won’t be able to see that because, well it’s under their pants. The big thing to know about werewolves is that they have pointy fangs on the top teeth whereas, (and this is the big distinction apparently) King Kongs and their babies have fangs on both the tops and the bottom. I’m sure that N has plenty more knowledge to share with me but he was distracted from telling me more by the little fact that he was suddenly turning into a baby werewolf before my eyes. So, needless to say he was unable to educate me on any more villains at this time

We have so many funny conversations that my addled pre-menopausal brain cannot keep up with them. I’m pretty sure anyone walking by our house at dinner time would think Patrick and I have some serious drinking ‘problems’ due to the number of inadvertent spit takes we do.
I am grateful that my children enjoy their lives and our company right now. I hope that dinners can always be so raucous. Although some times too much laughter can lead to situations like this one:

Scene: dinner table at the Wohlmuts on a quiet sunny evening. N tells us yet another obscure animal fact about dinosaurs that can’t possibly be true which sends everyone into peals of laughter. L, wanting to get into the action, attempts to tell her own funny story but with a mouthful of food only ends up coughing and choking instead.

CA/PW: are you okay ?
L: Mmm-hmmm
CA/PW: can you speak?
L: Mmm-hmmmm
CA (slightly exasperated) Can you say your name?
L (w/perfect timing and without missing a beat) : PRINCESS.

Much laughter ensues.
And Scene.
　
　
　
　

CA 1 Inner Critique 0

2009-08-18T19:49:00.001-07:00

Hello my faithful readers:

If you are looking for a posting on the kids, you might as well stop reading now. Today I'm writing about ME. Yes, ME the creator of this blog, the mother of those children, wife to their fabulous father and oh yes the WRITER.

So, what do I have to say about me? Just wanted to let you know what I've been up to recently. I have been feeding my soul by doing some writing that has nothing to do with my children's antics or even anything I think will delight you, my readers. Nope I am just writing...stuff. Mad scribblings in the middle of the day sequestered away in the bedroom. I ignore the persistent knocking of small hands, I take a deep breath and wait for my husband's gentle but firm reprimand, "N/L come away from that door. Mommy needs some quiet time, too." (God I love this man). Sometimes I creep out of bed to the living room on these hot nights and scribble 'brilliant' sentences that by the light of day appear to be, well average at best. But, I don't care I am writing again.

I had to fight off a big wall of writers block and an even bigger assault from the inner critique--man she's a bitch. I finally found it's just easier to let the bitch have her say. I sometimes go ahead and let her interrupt my work let her just spew all over the pages all the while I am secretly laughing at her, "silly bitch I'm writing down everything you say and turning it in to prose! Ha ha take that bitch!" Some might say it would be best to ignore her. Problem is, this inner critique was born of something outside of my and planted in my very soul when I was very very young. I have been trying to silence her for over 30 years - since I first discovered the joy of writing. So, I think now maybe I just let her have her say, sooner or later she'll tire out. Sooner or later She's going to see what I have to say is going to be worth all the blood sweat and tears. And tears there will be...

If I were a painter I would paint a glorious battle scene with angels and demons duking it out in a field of scattered memories and hearts. The angels would have the faces of all those teachers, friends, family, lovers, dreamers, writers etc who had inspired/believed in me along the way. And of course the littlest angel, with the biggest heart would be me. The demons would have variations on one face....

I've not been taking this journey alone. I've got the 'hand' of an old friend, Natalie Goldberg, and her book "Old Friend from Far Away" are gently nudging me along. Sometimes going back to the basics is the best way to begin again, I had forgotten that part of the puzzle. I forgot that I like to work the edges of the story first before diving into the middle pieces. It's all coming back to me piece by piece. I think this puzzle is going to take up the whole kitchen table and more, but I think I'm up to the challenge this time.

So, that's where I am. Oh, and don't you fret I'll be posting new antics of the Wee Wohlmut's soon. With quotes like, " I wanted a Happy Meal, not a Sad Meal" and "Can we brush our teeth now? Oh fank you! fank you!" I'm hardly wanting for material.

xxo CAW

MISS L SAYS, "don't bother Mama, she's writing"

Cape Lookout Part II

2009-07-28T12:22:00.000-07:00

Hello faithful readers... all seven of you. Okay, there are more, but it's o cool to have 7 "Followers" it makes me giddy inside.

Anyhoo, just acknowledging the fact that I promised you more on the camping trip at Cape Lookout. And I've tried, lord knows I've tried, to write. But, it's been dreadfully hot and I've not been sleeping and all I can come up with is this:

"Look Daddy, my nose is melting" and that's not even a quote from the camping trip. That's just a quote that makes me laugh every time. (Apparently the divine Ms L has learned to cross her eyes)

I could write about the bicycle mafia, as we dubbed the packs of kids ridding their bikes iaround and around, and around, the campgrounds from sun-up to sundown each day we were there. I kid you not. I'm pretty sure they were really spies from the US Forestry Dept trained to keep an ear open for repetitive campfire songs and excessive s'mores consumption. But, I'm too tired...

I suppose I could write about the time N found a moth in the restroom and carefully picked it up to take it back to the campsite to show Daddy. How bummed he was that, 'it got its wings wet and now it can't fly." And how he thought if he just waited long enough the wings would dry and all would be right. He never actually got to see if that was true, as Ms L pulled the wings off in her excitement to see the moth. Ah, little sisters. But again...too tired.

So many more stories to tell. Stay tuned and perhaps I'll perk up and produce soon.

for now, those you in Portland stay cool. And the rest of you well, I'm too tired to even be pithy...

Cape Lookout Part I - the beach

2009-07-23T12:39:00.000-07:00

We went to Cape Lookout on the Coast of Oregon. The company was great, the scenery was beautiful and the weather was ideal. I could not have planned these things with greater precision then they fell into place. (And yes, I am well aware that there will come a day when our camping trip will be plagued by rain, bugs and bad neighbors with foul mouths, firecrackers and offensive music blaring from their boom boxes. But this trip, blissfully, was not that trip.)

When we arrived at the coast we quickly set up camp, grabbed pails and shovels and headed to the beach. L sat right down at the water's edge with Uncle Roger and buried her toes in the sand, and then with great joy and much giggling would fling them out of the sand to Roger's, "Ta-da".

N couldn't decide what to do first. Dig in the big hole? Climb the driftwood on the hill? Climb the rocks? Spin around in circles gleefully? I am quite sure he managed to do all these things and more in that first evening on the beach.

This first evening was the only time either one of the kids ventured to put their toes in the water. As much as I tried to get them in on later visits, they were having none of it. (L didn't even like it when I went into the water. She fretted and worried) Perhaps the vast size and the roar of the waves (things that call to me lika Siren) were too much for them this time around. I cannot say whether they will both fall in love with the water like I have, but I do know they have a lifetime to discover what the ocean is to them.

Sand. Did I mention that while my children may not love the water like I do, they love, LOVE, love the sand.

L was content to lie prone in it and rub her her cheeks into its warm embrace. She would pick handfuls up and and then drop it gleefully into my awaiting cupped hands. Slowly I would open my hands, the sand would fall away she'd grin gleefully, and we'd do it all over again. She would fill the octopus molds and sand buckets full of sand, demand that I dump them over to create shapes and castles only to to knock them over with great delight sending sand scattering across the blanket and my lap. It was a game could have gone on without end.

I would say if L had any complaints about the sand it would be vocalized like this, "Mommy, the baby hurt my eye." While she and a little one from a neighboring beach blanket were engaged in a playful game of, 'who's the cutest toddler on the beach', they slowly began to drop sand onto each other's toes. Oh, so cute... and then L got into her favorite position on the beach, her belly, and the 'baby' continued to drop and fling sand (in that oblivious I-am-the-only-creature-on-the-earth way that children have). Oops, this is no longer fun, now it's in L's eye! L quicky tried to remedy the situation by rubbing her eye with her sand covered hands. Whee! Let the crying commence.

Inner Monologue: "Dear God she's going to be blind for life! She'll need an eye transplant! Can we pick our own color?! Whoa that baby has man hands!"

I rinsed L's eye out with water. Got her to put a cover up on and she just sat on my lap for a quiet few minutes. Well, quiet in the sense that she repeatedly said, "the baby hurt my eye" with a random "we missed the elephants at the zoo , mommy" thrown in for good measure. (we went to the zoo over 2 weeks ago kid, give it a rest!) Eventually, the lure of the sand won out and except for the sandy hand on the tongue incident (did she not remember the eye incident!?!) her remaining hours in the sun and sand were blissful.

N also has a love affair with the sand. He happily immersed himself into a group of kids nearby who were digging (and jumping, dancing and rolling) in one of the biggest holes I've ever seen in the beach. Blissful hours were spent in that hole.

But, if the sand on the beach made him happy it was the dunes at Pacific City, that really sent him over the moon. It was all he could do to contain himself when he saw those dunes. Ah hell, there was no containing him. There was a dune to climb! And climb it he did! He tore off up the side like a goat climbing in the Alps, or like a sand-flea leaping from grain to grain. There was no stopping this determined little boy from his destiny. While he did not make it the entire way, he certainly scrambled higher then I imagined he would. And then he did it again. The grins on these faces truly do say it all.

NEXT UP - family, campfires, dead bugs, bicycle mafia and other fine moments from Camp Look Out 2009

Superheros Part I

2009-07-10T18:37:00.001-07:00

Do you like your cape SuperMan? Weeellll, I do have a duck on my head....

RIP Farrah

2009-06-26T10:19:00.000-07:00

Rest in peace Farrah.

Man I loved Charlie’s Angels. I’m a little surprised I was allowed to watch a show that inspired the phrase “jiggle television”, but I was, and I did . I’m sure there are others who remember much more about the show then I do. I mostly remember the teaser of never seeing Charlie’s face, Bosley’s deep laugh and the great outfits. (And of course the episode where they broke out of prison... but really, who doesn’t remember that one?)

Many a summer afternoon you could find Erin, Cathy and I playing ‘Charlie’s Angels” (as, I am sure, were thousands of other girls across the country) First there was the ritual argument of who got to be which angel. Everyone wanted to be Jill, (and subsequently her sister Chris). I rarely got to be Jill, I usually ended up being Sabrina. I honestly can’t remember if I was Sabrina by default or if I just opted to be her to get onto the playing of the game. After divvying up the roles there would be major discussion on what outfits we were wearing (we’d use our bubble gum Charlie’s Angels trading cards as guidelines). Sometimes Cathy would show up with written instructions from Charlie that she would have painstakingly created the night before. Other times we’d just wing it. We’d hop on our bikes and go off into the neighborhood to solve our case. The capers never lasted long however, eventually Erin and I would get sick of Cathy always insisting, since she wrote the instructions, she got to be Jill. Because even as we were young enough to still be playing make-believe, we were beginning to understand the power of sexuality and beauty. And man, did Farrah have both.

I don’t know where I first saw “THE” poster. My guess it was in one of two taboo stores of my childhood Spencer’s (they had that all mysterious and giggle inducing ‘adults’ only section in the back) or Co-Op Records (the local head shop). I do remember thinking, “Wow, she’s beautiful” and feeling some sort of longing within. I certainly had no idea what the longing was and couldn’t tell you why she produced the same longings that Donny Osmund and Scott Baio did. I just knew she had a power that was too big to be ignored. I understood that her power resided in that red suit and those long flowing locks. And for years afterwards I longed for both the figure and the hair.

While I know Farrah went on to do some much more serious and powerful acting (I loved her in the Apostle) it is the gift of ‘awakening’ that I will remember her for most of all. And though it was a gift, like Pandora’s box, that was full of unknowns and frights, it would eventually prove to be a gift worth keeping, no matter how many years it took me to begin to understand it.

RIP Farrah.

2 year anniversary

2009-06-22T11:12:00.000-07:00

Lucy has now passed the two year anniversary of her open-heart surgery. And while she has yet to have her yearly check up I have no doubt she will pass with flying colors. If for no other reason then she will simply announce, "I'm okay" as she does after each tumble. And any child who believes she can will the rain to stop simply by looking out the windown and saying "NO RAIN" must indeed have a special kind of healthy heart.

I have never really written about the time surrounding Lucy's surgery and the months leading up to it. I thought perhaps I would try and do so this year, but the truth is the feelings and emotions are still too raw. Or, to be more accurate, because they are still to raw I have buried them deep inside and have not yet released them.

I spent much of the time in a self imposed self protecting fog. It's a place I know well. It's the place I went during all my own surgeries I had as a kid. I was the happy kid in the hospital. I have seen chart notations that talk about 'the patient is in good spirits, singing Christmas Carols to other children on the ward' (Christmas Carols in June!) but clearly all was not so good in the subconscious of my mind because other notations say, 'patient calls out for mother in sleep, but when comforted insists she is fine. Patient also asks someone to make sure her mother has eaten something'

I don't remember much of those years. I see photos of a smiling upbeat blonde girl in various body casts and I know she is me, but I am just as amazed at everyone else at her resilence and bravery. But, I do not recognize her as me...

Lucy will not have any memories from her surgery either, but that is because she was 4 1/2 months old. But we will tell her the story of her scar, show her the photos of her and her feeding tubes. She will know that the scar is a part of her and therefore something that adds to her story. It is a beautiful scar because it means 'life'.

Just like mommy

2009-05-29T09:52:00.001-07:00

Ms. L is very busy studying her role models these days. And it appears that I am her favorite subject. She began her studies in a very offhanded manner. It was so subtle at first I hardly understood what she was doing.

The first time I noticed it was when she was walking around the house tippy-toe on one foot and flat-footed with the other. After my overactive imagination went thru a million 'this child has something wrong with her' scenarios, I realized she was limping, like me. She was deliberately trying to copy my walk. My heart did a little tiny gasp and, in a rare moment of clarity, I smiled and moved on . I didn't correct her or tell her to stand up straight, I just let it be.

After the limping incident I began to notice she was doing all sort of things that I do. I was talking to her the other day and noticed my shirt was bunched and wrinkled, without even thinking about it I smoothed my shirt down and continued our conversation only to notice that she also began to smooth the 'wrinkles' on her shirt.

Almost daily she follows me into the bathroom during my morning routine. We brush our teeth together, she brushes her hair and asks (okay, sometimes she demands) to put "make-a-up" on. So, I hand her a blush brush and she goes to town whisking imaginary colors on her face. Some days she smiles so sweetly I give in and she gets a little lip balm too.

Then there was the sweetest moment of all; I was cuddling with her one evening, trying to help her settle in after a particularly long day, and I found myself curled up and tucking my hands under my cheek and chin. I looked over in time to see her peering intently at me, with those baby blue eyes, and slowly she tucks her hands under her face as well. And the sweetest look of satisfaction came over her as she sighed deeply and drifted off to sleep... a job well done.

"N-F Wohlmut you got out of bed right now!!" oh, yeah did I forget to mention that in addition to the sweet and lovely moments of imitation there are those other moments that you wish you could just sweep under the rug? Sigh... it's true, she's also mastering the hands on hip stance and that special tone of voice (some might say bossy) when trying to cajole her brother to do what she wants. At least this morning before she jumped to bossy I did hear her try a little tenderness, "rise and shine N. time to gweet the day.... N-F Wohlmut, you get out of bed right now!"

And they same imitation is the sincerest form of flattery!

2009-05-13T15:14:00.000-07:00

"If the second one had been the first one there would never have been a second one."

"L, what are you doing?"

"Color da wall."

"Please don’t color the wall, crayons belong on the paper"

"Color da floor"

"No L, if you can’t keep the crayons on the paper I’ll take the crayons away"

"Color da chair"

"Okay, L time to put the crayons away"

"NOOOOO" and with arms like moving windmills she sends crayons flying around the kitchen. N and I must duck and take cover. A granny smith apple green narrowly misses my head while tickle me pink bounces off the chair and into a bowl of cheerios. I belly crawl across the kitchen floor with as the colorful missiles continue to fly around my head. I reach the launching pad and manage to stop the assault. When I finally look at Miss L, I see nothing but those big blue eyes and an impish grin. While biting the insides of my cheeks to keep from laughing out loud, I tell her to pick up the crayons, not expecting but, hoping for full compliance. Instead she dashes to the end of the hallway and announces, "gonna get a timeout" and sits herself right down. Then right on cue begins to cry quietly, and indignantly so I can see it's for real.

Just as I am about to fetch her from her self imposed exile N (sensing a golden opportunity to erase what few memories are left from his ‘terrible-twos") executes a brilliant play and says, "Don’t worry Mama, it’s okay. I’ll pick up the crayons". And for good measure he pats me on the back.

And in this moment I see the next 15 years played out over and over again in my mind.

90 minutes in the life

2009-04-29T14:26:00.000-07:00

We went to the library on Monday. We tend to go to the library most Monday’s, but it had been awhile so the kids were excited to go. We bundle up against the elements put L in the stroller and away we go. N immediately wants to push L in the stroller. My first instinct is to say, "no", but I don’t. I let him push the stroller. Surprise, no one dies! L giggles in delight as N weaves all over the sidewalk, and I bite my tongue to keep from telling him to, "push the stroller straight. Don’t weave, don’t run." It’s not easy being a worry-wart mom who doesn’t want to be a worry-wart. You have to bite your tongue, a lot.

We arrive at the library with all our limbs intact. With Lucy in the stroller and not walking we made good time (two year olds have their own agenda when going to the library and it usually does not include walking fast enough for older brothers). Once at the library we follow a strict protocol set up by N. First we go to the book drop where we deposit the books we had out, one at time, never two, always one. With a running commentary on each book it takes longer then average. We often end up taking the books of those who come in after us and drop theirs as well, it’s just the neighborly thing to do. L meanwhile spends the timely loudly telling everyone it is time to ‘get out. get out now’ of her stroller, and works diligently at the clasp, determined to set herself free.

Finally, all the books are deposited and off we go to the children’s room. N goes straight for the shelves pulls a book and sits at the little table to read. L goes straight for the nearest exit. Delighted to be free she looks back at me with a quick grin and runs into the other room. With quick feet and even longer arms I grab the hood of her jacket and corral her back to the children’s room. We search in vain for a "Maisy" book, alas we are out of luck. L stumbles across a pile of paper and the itty bitty library pencils, she is pacified for a few minutes. In these few minutes I scan the shelves for books to take home, while keeping the eyes at the back of my head firmly planted on the kids. Lucy makes another break for it, this time getting as far as the front doors. Luckily for me a kindly biker dude plants himself in front of the doors, she is going nowhere. She will however take the time to flash him her best, "I’m so cute and I know it" smile and say, "whaza your name." If she had done that first she probably would have gotten past him, as you could see him bedazzled by her smile and eyes, as many before have been.

Time to pry Noah away from his pile of books. Miraculously I get him to agree to just 10 books to take home. To the checkout desk, N reading all the way, like Mr. Magoo he narrowly misses obstacles in his way, never breaking his stride. He will continue in this vein the whole way home. Books checked out and off we go. With moment of potential insanity I decide to let both kids walk home. We pile books into the stroller. Whoops wait, we must stop at the outdoor water fountain for drinks. Can N reach it himself this time? No, but before Spring turns to Summer I bet he will (how did that happen?)

The journey home begins in earnest now. I’m just hungry (having left half my breakfast on the counter to referee an train dispute, and never returned) and hope that my offer of PB&J and chocolate milk (okay it’s a bribe) is enough to motive the kids to move quickly. No such luck. Noah wants to read and walk, L wants to push the stroller. No wait, now N wants to ride and L wants to continue to push anyway. The journey is long, while N may have given L a wild ride full of circles, weaving and bobs; L gives him a S-L-O-W leisurely ride. She can barely push him and refuses all offers of help. N, being ever so helpful says, "its okay, Mommy, I like to go slow" SIGH... the trek continues. But wait there’s an inclined wall to stop and climb, and then L decides to lie face down on the sidewalk and lick it. Or was she trying to lick up the ants... I just didn’t want to know. Finally, I promise we can stop at the church and play on the steps if only they will "hustle", "what’s hustle, Mommy?" "Move your bootie!"

We get to the church, with great glee N runs down the ramp around the front grassy area and back to the ramp again. L heads straight for the rose garden with the tiny pebble beds. Before you can say, "Holy Mary, Mother of God" the receptionist is out the door, apparently having nothing better to do but to keep an eagle eye out for trespassers in the rose bed, warning me that the children are to keep all the pebbles in the beds. In not one of my finer moments, I reply (snap?) that yes, we are aware of this as someone tells us this every time we are on the grounds. And further more in all the times we are on the grounds we have always made sure the rocks, excuse me, pebbles are cleared from the sidewalk.... I turn to walk away, wondering for the umpteenth time why a church cares more about the rose garden then the enjoyment of watching two children playing in the sunshine?

One more block and we’ll be home. L continues to push N, this time letting me ‘steer, but not push’. Cross the last street, I can see the house, no wait L has to stop and try and climb the tree and N has decided now is the time to walk quickly. Quickly down the sidewalk to chase a squirrel and ask it some question (I never got close enough to hear the conversation..drat!) Who to chase first?!? N is lured in by the earlier promise of PB& J L must be physically carried into the house, singing all the way, "jingle bells, jingle way hey!"

All this took only 90 minutes... there is still an afternoon of naps, crafts and dinner (where L will eat the veggies and not the meat and N the opposite). Yippee!

you can fly

2009-04-28T14:46:00.000-07:00

"Sometimes, just sometimes, when no one is looking you fly" N said to me with all sincerity, and yet with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Did I dispute this statement, nope... I just couldn't bring myself to say it wasn't true.

In a world where children seem to grow up faster then ever before, I like the fact that my kids believe in Santa Claus, think their toys enjoy listening to bedtime stories as much as they do, want to play games that require their imagination as much as watch tv, and yes think I can fly.

Bunk beds and a ghost named Tiki

2009-04-14T09:32:00.000-07:00

We got bunk beds this weekend and the kids have adjusted very well. L, as I predicted, has mastered the ladder to the top bunk and would spend all day climbing up and down if we would only let her. She doesn’t want to sleep up top, mind you, she just wants to climb up and down. I thought perhaps there would need to be a period of adjustment, L would stay in the crib for a few more days and N would slowly warm up to the top bunk. Nope, everyone moved in one day one and except for one evening where I found L blanket and all curled up on the floor next to her crib, it’s been smooth sailing. It probably helps that there’s the cute contraption that my sister, the crafty-wonder-mom (I say that with great love and admiration, I wish I could do what she can do. Hell, I wish I wanted to do what she can do ...lol) made for her boys when they had the crib. It makes the beds feel like a little house. N loves sleeping on the "roof" and says, ‘L can sleep in my house’. Notice it’s HIS house and not her bed. Ownership is a big deal these days.

L mastered opening doors with doorknobs this week. So now, in addition to being able to climb in and out of bed at will, she can leave the bedroom and wander pretty much anywhere she wants in the house now. So far she's wandered into our room to climb into bed with us.(Yes, Supernanny we encourage her to go back to her own bed) I will, however, not be surprised to hear her in the kitchen looking for a 'nack' or attempting to put a movie into the vcr one night. She is very independent this girl, and I see a long future of tongue biting in my future.

N has a new friend named"Tiki" (inspired by the "Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room" song on our Classic Disney Songs cd, I am sure) Tiki is a ghost who is very nice and just hangs out in the house. He was living in the hall closet at first, but decided that he liked sleeping on the top bunk with N better. He also really likes to hear, "Francis the Talking Alligator" stories (rule 472:if you make up a stories to tell your kid, you'd better remember them, because they will). N tells me that sometimes Tiki gets up at night and wanders the house, but mostly he just sleeps alot. We don't know what Tiki looks like, but I can tell you he is small enough to sit in N's hand when being introduced to people.

That's it from the peanut farm. We'll have reports on the progress in the veggie garden soon.

guest posting - Noah

2009-03-17T09:08:00.000-07:00

Hello all:

What a busy year it's been since I turned three. Now I am four and life is good. I can use the potty and do so with glee. "I have to go pee!", is what I yell (every time!) before dashing off to the bathroom. What's really fun is that Lucy wants to do everything I do, so she often tags along after me and goes potty, too. I think Mommy and Daddy are very excited about this. At first I didn't like the company in the bathroom, but then Daddy told me that it was because Lucy loves me so much and wants to do all the big things that I do. That makes me proud, so now I encourage her to go potty too.

I still love dinosaurs and all things wheels. I like to pretend I am a train and chug around the house. I have a vivid imagination. I am always pretending to be a dinosaur or a jungle cat. Today I am a praying mantis. I got a new puppet theater for my birthday and am spending lots of time with my finger puppets (lucy loves them too!) I love to play with my train set and read all my books.

I really want a puppy, but Mommy says we don't have room for one. I really wanted 101 dalmatians, but, was willing to settle for just one. Mommy says there still isn't room. Maybe when we get a house with a fenced yard. I don't think Mommy really wants a puppy, but I know Daddy and I do.

When I grow up I don't want to be a fire fighter, a policeman or an astronaut, I would like to be a parent. When Daddy asked me why I said, 'Because then I get to take care of of little boys" Mommy thought that was awesome.

I had fun birthday party with my family with lots of presents and a lighting McQueen cake. The party was on Sunday, even though my b-day was Monday. When I woke up Monday I thought I would get to have another cake, since it was my real birthday. I also thought I was five..,. but Mommy explained that one day was a celebration and one day was the remembering day.

I will never forget my 4th birthday, for lots of reasons. But the big reason is that Mommy and I were playing beach volleyball in the house with a balloon and I tripped and fell and cut my forehead open on the edge of my new truck. I bled a lot. (Mommy says to tell you she remained very calm) I went to the hospital and they glued my cut shut! I was very brave and because it was my birthday they gave me a toy chameleon. I also read a book to the Dr, he was very impressed. What a day.

Mommy says I should also tell you I love being a big brother.... whatever....

Love, Noah

It comes without warning

2009-02-16T13:14:00.000-08:00

In the movies and on tv there is alway a warning of some kind, usually "Mommy, I don't feel so good," before it happens. Let me tell you hear and now, in real life there is no warning. It just happens, out of the blue.

It can happen when you are sitting down in a restaurant to eat. Everyone smiling, laughing and happy with what they have in front of them. And then your sweet girl will open her mouth and things will come spewing out that you know must have been organic in nature once upon a time, but now only represent toxic waste from the sewers seen in a b-movie. Quick like a bunny everyone springs into action Daddy grabs the napkins and deals with the table. Mommy takes the child high chair and all (thank God for wheels) and heads to the bathroom, only to be foiled by the sign that says, "restrooms for paying customers only. Please see manager for a key" Really!?! Are you kidding me!?!? Quickly, Mommy zips back to the front trying to protect the appitites of all other shielding her child from their view. Requesting a key calmly, Mommy tries to pretend she can't see that ooze dripping off her precious child's chin and leg. After all the two year old thinks it's all a game, so Mommy does, too.

Finally secure in the bathroom Mommy begins the task of getting clothes off wiggly giggly two year old all the while trying to keep any more from getting on herself. Miraculously there is a change of clothes in the backpack! Rinse, wash, wipe and repeat. Stuff the clothes in the empty baggie. Slink out of bathroom hoping most, if not all , of the contents of the stomach made it into the garbage and not on the floor.

Pack up family and head home. Does Mommy want the rest of her dinner, ummm no thanks.

You go about the rest of the weekend, everyone seems fine. And then it happens again. And AGAIN without warning. Now it's the soon to be 4 year old stating quite firmly he does not want to eat his asparagus. "So eat your chicken first and then try your asparagus", Mommy says. And just as Mommy knows there's another protest to come, history repeats itself. A wild torent, a river of ooze comes spewing forth. This time onto the lovely dinner table set for company. Again parents leap into action. Only this child is not done, he has another river of ooze to deposit... on the carpet....

It always comes without warning..

The love you feel for your husband, when you know that a few short years ago he couldn't even change a poopy diaper without gagging, and yet there he is on his hands and knees scooping puke off the floor as easily as if he were digging sand for a sand castle.

It always comes without warning...

The love you feel for your child when he/she looks at you with sweet relief and gratitude as you clean them up.

It always comes without warning...

Miss L and her birthday "blaloon"

2009-02-08T19:45:00.000-08:00

One Helium "blaloon" +

One Pastrygirl original +

One roomful of family =

A happy birthday girl...priceless

Miss L turns two

2009-02-05T13:14:00.000-08:00

L turned two on Jan 23, 2009. Don’t tell her that , we’ve got her and N convinced that her birthday is on Saturday. Okay, okay, I don’t think she’s paying any attention, but N is pretty excited that we are having a party for her. He thinks she would like a Stanley or a James for her birthday (friends of Thomas the Tank Engine for the uninitiated). He’s probably right, she loves playing with the trains and the hammers and anything else that Noah might have in his possession. If N has it then it must be the greatest thing ever, and must be had now... ah the joys of navigating sharing and personal space.

L is a delight to watch these days. She can spend long periods of time put her doll to bed over and over again. First she rocks her and sings "rock a bye baby" then kisses her, puts her in her little bed and says ‘sweet dreams". Then mere minutes later its "rise and shine baby" grab the doll and start all over again. Before you know it she’s done this for 20 minutes over and over and each time with the sweetest "rise and shine" as if it’s the first time she’s ever said it. Next thing you know she’s tossed the doll to the floor, with its clothes half off, and is off to the next thing. What will it be? A rousing game of hide and seek with N and Mommy? (L tends to like to cover her eyes count to 3 and then watch you hide for the last 7 numbers. I wouldn’t say it was cheating, just the best strategy) She loves to be "n-ked girl" (naked girl) and run thru the house at full speed giggling the whole way. She loves to sit on the potty for about 3 seconds stand up and announce "I went potty" whether anything happens or not. And this is followed by a routine of ‘dumping’ the potty into the toilet, trying to flush and saying ‘bye-bye pee’. Like the doll scenario she can repeat this over and over with great delight.

L loves to draw, she loves to point out letters everywhere we go and counts to 14. She sings songs all day long and thinks her brother is delightful (unless he’s not sharing then the meltdown begins) She can be stubborn and clearly is independent. She would rather sit down on the sidewalk and not move before holding your hand to cross the street. If you peel the banana for her you are likely to be greeted with a great wails of "Do it self! Do it self!" She has opinions about just about everything, from what she’ll eat to what she’ll wear. Wails of "Jammies back on, jammies back on" can be heard daily in our household. (This one she learned from her brother N, who is always negotiating keeping his Pjs on for just a ‘few more minutes, please’)

Happy Birthday L. Welcome to the world of twos. These days will be wonderful and exasperating, triumphant and frustrating, endless and instantaneous. They will be amazing days.

I promise to try and remember that these are your twos and not your brothers. I promise to try and carve out more time for just you and me. We’ll go out with out purses and hats one day and the next we’ll race N’s cars down the sidewalk. I’ll begin to let you have a little more independence and you’ll push my buttons... we’ll both do our jobs. But at the end of each night I’ll sing you your lullabies, kiss your sweet face with ‘earring’ kisses, fish kisses and cheek kisses. I will tell you, "I love you. Sweet dreams" and turn out the light. Silently I’ll shut the door and just as I get on the other side, I’ll pause and say a little prayer of thanksgiving for you. G’night sweet pea.

Please come back, next week

2009-01-30T13:29:00.001-08:00

Hello dear readers:

It's been awhile, I know. I hope to get back in the saddle next week, I've survived being snow bound with the kids, kids with the flu, a show opening, my own bout with a head cold and now the arrival of my parental units. All of these things = stress in my life.... And while I have literally started 4 blog posts I have been unable to finish a single one. But my show closes Sunday (see shameless plug below) and my head cold will soon be gone. My parents can only stress me out as much as I allow them to, so I'm going to nip that in the bud too.

SO look for a lovely piece on the joys of being Two starring Ms. L or a piece on cabin fever, starring me! Or maybe both.

Meanwhile enjoy the sun!

VITRIOL AND VIOLETS

Music & Lyrics by: Dave FrishbergBook by: Shelly Lipkin, Louanne Moldovan, Sherry Lamoreaux
Directors: Louanne Moldovan & Shelly LipkinMusical Director: Bill Wells

Vitriol & Violets celebrates the Algonquin Round Table, a group of writers and their friends who gathered daily in the 1920s at the Algonquin Hotel. During the course of their “ten-year lunch,” table associates Dorothy Parker, Alexander Woollcott, Robert Benchley, George S. Kaufman, Edna Ferber, Heywood Broun, Harold Ross, Harpo Marx and Jane Grant gained fame and fortune as much for their widely quoted bon mots as for their significant achievements. The stage play, which Cygnet Productions premiered at Russell Street Theatre, won an Oregon Book Award (2004) and has been rewritten as a musical in collaboration with Dave Frishberg, one of the nation's foremost jazz composers (and a Portland resident).

The ensemble cast includes Lauren Bair, Adair Chappell, Rae Kraemer, Isaac Lamb, Mark Schwahn, Ted Roisum, James Sullivan, Michael Teufel and Joe Theissen.

Vitriol & Violets is produced by Rainy Day Productions and presented by Artists Repertory Theatre as part of Fertile Ground: The City-Wide Festival of New Works presented by the Portland Area Theatre Alliance (PATA).
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Tickets are available through the Artists Rep Box Office at 503-241-1278

Read more about Artists Rep's other festival entry, Gracie and the Atom.

Quotes of the year

2008-12-31T21:01:00.000-08:00

"Daddy, do you and Mommy need some Mommy and Daddy time?"

"My favorite part of the day is that you were here the whole time" (hmm, will he say that in 10 years?)

"Where are you dropping us off NOW?" (ah the life of a theater kid)

"But, I didn't get to vote for Obama" (the morning after the election)

"Lucy, I like having you for a sister" (first time they walked hand and hand)

"Well, I'm not really interested in sleeping" (when asked why he was out of bed one evening)

Lulu:

"Bish kiss!" (when she wants a fish kiss)

"Self! No, Self" (she's an independent girl)

"chup-chup" (ketchup)

"noah, carseat now!"

ho ho ho

2008-12-21T15:09:00.000-08:00

Happy Holidays from our house to yours!

Dear Santa:

2008-12-02T14:38:00.000-08:00

Dear Santa,

I would like:

*a bike light for my trike so I can ride my trike at night

*my own keys for the front door (I will only unlock it , never lock it)

*an ambulance with 2 doors

*a police hat (because I want to be a police officer. They help people after they have been run over by the bad guys)***

I think Lucy would like:

*a Thomas the tank engine.

Love, N

(As dictated to Mommy, who tried valiantly not to laugh out loud at the preciseness of her son's desires)

***I have no idea where he came up with this definition of police officers

Television and my kids

2008-12-02T14:02:00.000-08:00

I envy stay at home moms, the ones who seem to really enjoy staying at home EVERY day with their kids. I must confess I would not make a good stay at home mom. By the end of my 4 days home with the kids I am very ready to go to work. I think this goes without say, but I'll repeat it anyway, I LOVE MY KIDS. But, boy oh boy, are they active and busy. At these particular stages in their lives they need almost constant attention. Not necessarily constant stimulation, but they need our presence, just the same.

I think the television is a blessing and a curse. There are days when we don't watch a single minute of tv. The sun comes up and we run out the door to play in the sunshine and warm air. These are the days that walking to the park or to see the neighborhood chickens rule. These are the days that hanging out on the yard looking at library books (or in L's case leading mom in grand chase down the walk) is better then even Bob the Builder. On these day I know that the tv is nothing more than an unnecessary distraction from real life and I scoff at it.

Then there are the days of endless rains or runny noses. The days that drag on for hours because every activity I offer is met with a resounding "no". There are days when I simply must get some work done, or just need 30 minutes to do something other then read, "Maisy's Bedtime" AGAIN. These are the days that I am liable to turn the tv on for a hour in the morning, and maybe even pop in a video in the afternoon.

I used to beat myself up every time I let the kids watch tv, whether it was a 1/2 an hour or 2 hours. I was a harsh mistress. But one day I stopped and looked at my kids; a three year old who is reading at a 1st or 2nd grade level, who has a great imagination and good manner; and a 22 month old who is counting to 10 and singing her abc's who also loves life and can charm the pants off the grumpiest of people. And I realize that what little they watch has not adversely harmed them.

We watch PBSkids and videos. I think the only time N has seen commercials was during the Olympics, when he got turned onto swimming, diving and the hurdles. I credit the awesomeness of the divers and Michael Phelps with N's willingness to take swimming lessons this summer. And Lola Jones inspired us to create an obstacle course in the backyard this summer, complete with mini trampoline jumping and stick jumping.

And, to be honest, I like tv. There are days when I dream about a television-free household, and I wonder who would have the harder time, me or the kids? I bet it would be me. Because the tv saves my sanity from time to time, whether it's a rainy afternoon and I pop in a video or it's the end of a long day and I settle into the couch to watch Dr. McDreamy and Merideth spare once again. Yep, I think I'll find something new to beat myself up about, tv is not the enemy in this house.

"inappropriate books"

2008-10-27T13:16:00.000-07:00

There's a lot of hoopla going around Portland about a book called, "Suicide Bunny". If I have my information correct, and in this day of instant misinformation, it's possible I have a couple things wrong, there is a woman who wants the book pulled from her child's school library. In fact she is so against this book that she has the book checked out and is refusing to return it. And if the book appears on the shelves again she'll have someone else check that copy out and keep that one as well. Now, I have not read this book, but I have looked at some of the drawings on-line. Okay, it may not be 'appropriate' for some kids, but I'm so tired of other people deciding what's appropriate and what is not appropriate for everyone in the world.

I was an early reader, and like many early readers I ended up reading books that perhaps were not really suited for my age. I remember one clear example was Judy Blume's "Wifey". Judy Blume was the author for middle schoolers in my day. I read everything from "Are you there God, It's Me Margaret?" to "Deenie" and on to "Forever". Then one day I was searching the card catalog (I'm assuming my readers all know what that is), to see what else she might have written and there was a new book called"Wifey". It wasn't in the juvenile section, but in the adult books. No problem there, I had been reading non-fiction books and Agatha Christie mysteries from the adult sections without parental complain for quite some time. I found the book without trouble and settled in my favorite corner of the library to read it. Whoa, before the end of the first page I knew this was new territory. First page and I'm 'exposed' to a flasher wearing a stars and stripes motorcylce helmet. This would be an adventure.

I knew this was a book I should not read at home, and yet I was going to try (going with the theory it was by Judy Blume, and had been reading her for years so....) The high school girl at the check out counter tried to tell me I couldn't read the book, but Ms. Williams (my favorite librarian) overruled the girl and told me I could take it home, with the caveat that I had to tell my mom I had it ("oh sure," I lied) and if I had any questions about what I read I should ask her(I'm sure she meant ask my mom, but I took it to mean ask her)

Now, I know there are many who would be appalled that a librarian would allow a young girl to take such a racy book home (and if memory serves, it got racier still). But I say hooray for her. She understood that I was going to read the book one way or another. She understood that I was going to keep reading books above my comfort and perhaps comprehension level for a few more years until life caught up with my brain. I think she also wanted to foster a level of open dialogues. Now, it wasn't really going to happen in my household, but I am grateful she tried.

I think kids should be allowed to take home any book they want from the library. Do I think they should be able to read any book? Today I say yes, as my children age I may find that I might change my mind, I hope not. I think books and the multitude of ideas are too important to start keeping them from kids because you don't like the content. Instead of banning the books, read them along side your kid and then discuss what about it bothers you. Take a chance that they'll ask you questions (like when I asked my Mom what "69"while reading "Forever", she didn't know the answer but my older sister told us both...)

My mom freaked about my reading choices all the time. When I was in my Stephen King phase she was sure I was going to get into Satan worship (never even occured to me) and when I was "secretly" reading Harlequin romances at the library (forgive me I was a kid) she thought I was going to go down some wrong path (that included some sinful self pleasuring). But despite all her fears I cannot remember a time she told me I couldn't read something. (of course I hid a lot from her!) And for that I give her big thanks and major kudos. You'll just have to trust me when I say this was a big deal for her.

So to the woman who wants to ban "Bunny Suicide" I say, 'stay out of my library' You have every right to choose what comes into your home, but not what comes into my home. Take the book back and talk to your kids about books and freedoms, and not the tv cameras about your view of right and wrong.

And now I think I'll head out for our weekly trip to the library and see if I can't find some old friends to share with my kids.

Economics 101 by "N"

2008-10-16T08:56:00.000-07:00

N was flipping thru an "educational" toy catalog last night. The catalog came home w/Patrick one day, seems it's for a new store that is aiming to get teachers in the door. And this is the conversation that ensued:

"I want to go to Daddy's school," N says

"What would you do at Daddy's school," I ask, thinking he'll say something about reading or hanging out with Daddy.

"So I could get these toys"

"Oh honey, those toys aren't at Daddy's school. You have to buy them"

"Okay, I want to buy them"

"Do you have any money?"

"No. could you buy them for me?"

"No, I don't have any extra money right now"

N ponders for a moment and then the light bulb goes off and he has a brilliant idea:

"I'll go the the Little Fred Meyer and they can give me money!" He declares.

"Why would they give you money?" I ask (trying not to giggle too much)

"well, if they want me to buy the toys the will give me money"

Ta-da. So, that's what I think, too. If the retailers of America want us to spend money this holiday season, they should start giving out cash.

oh happy day.

2008-10-13T08:54:00.000-07:00

This is L after a day running around at Oregon Heritage Farms.

This photo is N after same day.

I am confident both had a great day. However, if you asked N at the end of the day if he had a good time, his answer was a resounding No! No amount of reminding him of all the fun things we did could pursuade him otherwise. A few months ago this would have been a great source of frustration to me. Luckily, someone wiser, and with much more mommy experience, reminded me that kids live in the moment. So, when you are leaving somewhere fun or making the child stop their favorite activity, all they can react to is the immediate moment. So, of course they are having no fun. It can be exasperating and disheartening. Particularly because it seems as if we fight the kids to go and then we fight them to leave. But, for that glorious in between it's a grand time.

So you live for the moments.

It was just my imagination

2008-10-06T09:22:00.000-07:00

I always think I want to be one of 'those' moms You know, the ones who seem to be able to whip up a homemade costume, that actually looks like what it's supposed to be (not a sock on a string) . Or they always seem to have time to make the cupcakes with the fancy decorations, and dye the Easter eggs in perfect pastel colors.

But, every time I try to be one of 'those' moms no one has any fun. Because, all that stuff seems to be too precious and perfect for me to accomplish. And at some point I had to decide whether we were going to have fun or perfection. So, far I am trying to opt for fun. Thus we have elephant costumes that are made out of an old headband, construction paper and and a ratty old sock.

When it comes to Green Eggs and Ham for breakfast do I slave over adding spinach or kale at the precise measurements for a nutritious and color balance? No way, I just add a couple of drops of food coloring and chop up whatever lunch meat I have on had and call it ham (today it was smoked turkey). And if the green is more minty then grassy, well that's okay too.

Now, I'll be the first to admit that there are days when I wake up possessed by the urge to be one of 'those' moms. It seems to occur mostly around the holidays. My own mother went nuts around the holidays. We had heart shaped cookies for valentines day, homemade costumes and jack-o-lanterns for Halloween, and Christmas came with a tree, a nativity scene and jingle bells on the door. While I have fond memories of all this stuff, I don't really have any memories of these things bringing my mother joy. I remember that she made the cookies late at night after we went to bed, and I think she felt she had to do it. While I want to pass on some of these wonderful memories to my own children, I am striving to let go of the stress part. (I am not always successful) I am hoping to include the kids in the process, and if we don't have perfect heart shaped cookies - oh well.

I am so blessed to have kids with their own wonderful imaginations. So, in a way they are helping me save myself from me. I mean when you have a 3 year old who puts his clothes on backwards, because he can, it's easy to dream up "backwards day" and the fun just creates itself. No magazines or Assembly required.

2008-10-05T08:55:00.000-07:00

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=v8nVVffZRck

okay, really you just have to click this and watch. Happy October.

Singing in the Rain

2008-08-21T21:47:00.000-07:00

There was no rain and no dancing. But there's an umbrella, a little singing and plenty of reasons to smile.

the lazy days of August are here...

2008-08-21T17:46:00.001-07:00

Holy crap, an entire summer seems to have flown by and I haven’t written a thing. Well, I’ve written grocery lists, I’ve written in my journal, I’ve written the kid’s names on about a hundred art projects that I somehow manage to recycle once a week (even if N says we need to save them all). But, I haven’t written here.

I have a bunch of excuses 1. It was summer, 2. I’ve got two kids to chase around the house 3. I had out of town guests 4. It was summer 5. I had emergency surgery and 6. Yep, you guessed it, it was summer. Let’s face it, this time of year is not meant for mining the depths of one’s brain and now it’s the lazy days of August and it’s even harder, but I figured I owed it to my 6 readers and maybe even myself to try and get something out there. Just so we’d all know I was still here.

Summer with a 3 year old and an under two year old can be joyous and frustrating. It can be rewarding and exasperating. In other words summer is no different then the rest of the year, it’s just that during the summer we can all go outside and feel like we have a little space to move and fly.

N loves to take off running down the sidewalk at a neck breaking speed these days. While I secretly love the fact that he is so fast and so brave it also makes me nutty. He often forgets to tell us where he is going. And that’s just not cool, because he’s three and one wrong turn around the corner and who knows what could happen. I’m not talking crazy boogie man get the boy kind of stuff (although I do think about that too) no, just your generic getting lost, or falling down and really getting hurt. So, there’s been a lot of tears and timeouts while N tries to reconcile the world of personal freedom and the rules of Mom and Dad.

When N is sitting in said timeout L will often pat him on the back and say, “ahhh”. Then the other day I saw her sitting in the timeout spot sort of fake crying, and I couldn’t figure out what was wrong. So, I called her over and gave her a hug, she seemed happy and we moved on. But, then it happened again and again. It dawned on me, she was doing what her brother does. (She loves to do Everything that N does) Right down to getting the hug when she came out of the corner (N always gets a hug and an “I love you” after said timeout and a discussion of why he was there) Once I realized what she was doing I just left her there and laughed. Little does she know that someday that will no longer be a fun thing to do.

For those tracking the arc of N’s potty training, we are at a plateau. He’ll go when asked, sometimes, and still won’t initiate anything. We’ve resorted to bribery and he is rewarded with mini M&M’ s for each sucessfull attempt. Of course, since he’s three sometimes even the bribery is useless. “Let’s try for a couple of M&M’s”, I’ll say. “I don’t want any” he’ll respond. Then it’s like pulling teeth to get him to interupt whatever it is that is so important to go sit on the potty. Nothing can convince him that taking the time to go potty is actually less time consuming and stressful then having to stop and change wet clothes.... sigh... maybe his new daycare provider can help us win this battle.

Meanwhile L, the copycat, toddles into the bathroom attempts to pull off her pants, sits on the potty chair for a couple of minutes and then stands up with great joy and says “Potty” or “ta-da” at the top of her lungs.
Kids, go figure.

Note: While I realize that most of my readers know my children’s names and I have actually used them in earlier blogs, I have decided to use their initials from now on. Why, you might ask? Because someday they are going to be old enough to care about me writing about them. Someday they’ll have friends who might google them. So, this is the first baby step towards the day when N & L ask me to stop writing about them all together. Luckily for you and me, that day is hopefully a ways off still!

‘Til next time, take care.

Flooded with memories

2008-06-16T08:08:00.000-07:00

I have spent the last few days glued to the internet and CNN. I am and news junkie on a good day, so the news of my home state drowning in both the small and the mighty rivers was enough to put me over the edge.

First let me say that my family and friends are, all things considered, lucky. Some wet basements here and there. Ruined backyard gardens and rained out activities. Some missed doctors appointments due to bridge closures, but over all they were lucky. For that I am grateful.

And yet Iowa being what it is, I do know someone who knows someone who lost their house in the Parkersburg tornado, and someone else who knew a boy at the boy scout camp in Eastern Iowa. I'm sure as I catch up with old friends over the summer I'll hear more tales of near misses and 'did you know that so-and-so lost....' Because that is Iowa, one great big small town scattered across 99 counties

Personal reflections on the places I know:

Iowa City was my home away from home for most of my childhood, I had many a surgery there. I know the halls of the "old" hospital well, and wonder if the murals painted for the amusment of children passing thru the basement catacombs (to avoid the extreme Iowa winters/summers) to get from the "old" to the "new" survived? No way to replace those. Those flooded dormitories? They hold different memories of partying with friends on weekend getaways.

Cedar Falls was the first town to capture national attention as they rallied and saved the town w/a massive sandbagging effort. It was also my college town. I still have friends teaching at the University of Northern Iowa. I walked along the Cedar River and attended many an improptu concert in Sturgis Falls Park. While the town was saved, I understand the landscape of the park is changed forever.

Cedar Rapids is just another town to me, but still I know those people, because Iowa is one of those places where you just 'know' everyone. So, I feel these are my neighbors and weep with them as their beloved downtown washes away. I know all these families who are wondering just where to begin as they stare at their flooded homes. Homes awash with mud and scattered dreams. My thoughts and prayers are theirs this weekend.

And then there is Des Moines, my hometown. I played in Birland park, now a giant swimming hole, flooded wihen the levee broke. I attended many a football games at North High School. My father worked downtown so I know those flooded street names very well. Saylorville dam was popular make out destination and to see those waters rushing over the spillway is surreal.

It has been over 20 years since I lived in Iowa, but she is always home to me. And I hope my home can recover.

Random notes from my head

2008-05-21T20:27:00.000-07:00

I tip my hat to Maya Angelou and Anne Lamott. They are two women who, as single mothers, managed to raise their children and still find time to write and live their lives. Damn, how I envy them. Now, I don't have them on some great Mother/Writer pedestal, I know it wasn't easy and like many in the arts sacrifices were made, but still they persevered and to that end I say, "hooray"

Sometimes I am awake in the middle of the night and I write glorious prose in my head, but in the light of day the words have escaped me. So, sometimes I quietly crawl out of bed and I flip open the laptop in hopes of capturing the words before the seep away... but alas, the glare of the screen, the lure of the Internet is all too much. No, if I'm going to get the words down, I'm going to have to do it long hand, on a yellow note pad, with wide, not legal, ruled lines. The pens must be just perfect, even pencil is preferable to a pen that skips along the page, stopping and starting.

If I could only get up earlier then my children in the morning, but it seems no matter how early I get up, 5 minutes after my shower I either hear Lucy calling from her crib or Noah is bounding into the room with a cheery, "Hello my name is _______" fill in the blank with any number of names for the day. Sigh... I have morning children!

These morning children are a delight to be around. Lucy, although still not possessing a complete grasp of words yet, babbles and sings nonsensical words. She'll greet you with a giant grin and a big, "HI!" Every time she says "HI" she beams as if she's just mastered the word for the first time. (and not said it on end for the past several weeks) It is awesome. She toddles around the house with great pride at having mastered walking. Soon she'll be chasing Noah, and there will be no stopping her. I think the only thing keeping her from having a perfect life right now is her inability to open the cabinet where the cereal, crackers and other good things to eat are stored, on her own. If she could crack that puzzle, she would be in heaven. (and I don't mean Iowa)

Noah, sigh, Noah... it's such a wonderful name, Wouldn't you agree? Picked out specially for our first born. But, currently we hardly get to use it. Noah, you see, has turned into a warthog named Pumba, at least it is today. Yesterday he was a Triceratops named Sara, and the day before he was tank engine named Thomas, and the day before that he was a train named Emily. He won't answer if you call him the wrong name. And woe to you, if you forget who he is, or worse yet he's changed his name between the last time you addressed him and the moment you are in now. It's a wonderful, delightful, and exasperating phase we are in. I try to embrace it, but sometimes I just want Noah to come home. Sometimes, I am sure he's living in some world without me and I want him to come back.. now! But, when asked where Noah is, and when he might be coming home, Pumba/Thomas/Sara et al will respond, "Noah can't come home, he's at work." (opening a whole new world of Mommy guilt)

"Will he come home soon?" I ask him.

"No, not for 40 days." He'll respond. And so, on it goes.

I had an overactive imagination as a kid. I used to get so far into my imaginary worlds, whether in reading a book or just playing, that I would not hear my mother come up the stairs looking for me. I would get in trouble for ignoring her... I wasn't ignoring her, I was just gone. I understand the power of the imagination and how it gives you freedom in a world where you might not feel in control or free. I worry that Noah feels he has no control, and it freaks me out. Then I remember that he is three... of course he has no control... that's my job. He is just being three and realizing that while everyone around him tells him what to do, when to do it, and how, there are indeed somethings he can control. He can control when and where he poops (and so far, that's not in the potty. But that's another story) and he can pretend he's something different every day. And that's pretty cool.

And that's just a few of the random thoughts floating around my head this evening, how about yours?

You'll wann do it too!

2008-04-22T15:16:00.001-07:00

Too much time on my hands... but oh so fun.

sharing a love of music

2008-04-15T09:23:00.000-07:00

I love musicals! I grew up on Showtunes, I can name a showtune and/or musical for every letter of the alphabet, and can sing selections from even more. When I was young I would sit at my bedroom window and sing the slower songs to the outside world. This would often take place on summer evenings when I had to go to bed at 8:30 and it was still light out. While the neighbors caught up on the latest gossip and news, their cool Milwaukie's best cans sweating as much as they were in the Iowa humidity, I would serenade them. "Where is Love?", "(I must have done) Something good", "Over the Rainbow" and on and on... At some point Dad would look up at my window and tell me to go to bed, but I swear there was always a twinkle in his eye when he would do so.

As my life went on I participated in musicals in high school, both on and off stage. I have stage managed many a Musical and, honestly, I think I deserve a medal for stage managing "The Wizard of Oz" three seasons in a row. (The final year I was literally dreaming the show forwards and backwards!!) I have been known to burst into Musical numbers at random both in the house and in public. It's just part of who I am.

I am now the mother of two beautiful children, and despite the fact that my husband is NOT a big Musical fan, they are learning many a showtune. I was pleasantly surprised to hear my son singing a number from Oliver! just last week. Imagine my surprise to learn that it wasn't "Who will buy" or even "ooom-pah-pah" but rather "Oliver" the song where Mr. Bumble berates the boy and threatens to 'feed him on cockroaches served in a canister"!

And the legacy continues - enjoy

I got nothing

2008-03-09T17:18:00.000-07:00

I got nothing today. I have been wracking my brain all day for something, anything to write about. I felt especially compelled to write something, anything, since I harrassed my husband about putting up a year old essay on his blog... the gods are now getting the last laugh on me.

Nope, I got nothin' tune in tomorrow.

There are women

2008-03-04T11:14:00.000-08:00

There are women who never run out of 'personal' products. I am not one of them.

I am a woman who is grateful that all her parts still work, no matter how inconvenient it may be.

There are women who always have a well balanced dinner on the table. I am not one of them.

I am a woman who almost always ensures her family eats at least one meal together every day, despite crazy schedules. And yes, that means sometimes we have cereal for dinner and leftover mac-and-cheese for breakfast.

There are women who's children are always color coordinated clothing when they walk out the door. I am not one of them.

I am a women who's children know it is okay to play in whatever they have on, and that their individuality should always shine.

There are women who's children always have clean hands and faces and always sit quietly in church. I am not one of them.

I am a woman who's children aren't afraid to get dirty. Who know that in order to find the worms, you might have to eat a little dirt. And they will know that it is a good thing to make "joyful noise unto the Lord" (or buddah, or mother earth, or whoever)

There are women who never roll their eyes when their husbands say goofy things in public. I am not one of them.

I am a woman who loves her goofy, brilliant, adorable, honest and trustworthy husband.

I am a woman who has to remind herself daily that I am the woman I want to be, most of the time.

The Archbishop responds

2008-03-03T14:36:00.000-08:00

Dear Ms. Wohlmut,

Please accept this acknowledgement of your letter to me of February 15. Your decision to break your 'ties' with the church saddened me. I apologize for any way in which I have not served you on your journey of faith adequately.

It seems you have found a new place of worship which makes you feel at home. The beliefs and convictions of our Catholic community seem to have been too challenging for you. Be assured they they are challenging for us all of us. The church's evangelizing mission entails preaching the good news and a calling to a conversion. The second part is the hard part.

You said you leave with a 'broken heart'. Hearts break for many reasons, not always due to an external aggressor. Your letter and a few other experiences this spring prodded me to write a column for The Catholic Sentinel of March 7. Perhaps you may be interested in reading it.

As we move closer to Easter, I promise to keep you in my prayers. I pray that God will one day lead you back to your true home, a community of saints and sinners all struggling in thier search for the face of Jesus. God Bless.

Sincerely yours in the Lord,

Most Rev. John G. Vlanzy

I post this today without comment. I need to let it sit for a day or two, but be assured I will have something to say about this response, or lack of... CA

Practicing Patience

2008-02-14T13:31:00.000-08:00

I thought this post was going to be about practicing patience with my children. There's been a lot of that going on in our house. Between the refusing to nap, the occasional fights over toys and all the other pitfalls of being a two children household; patience is in high demand in our house. But as I thought about it the person who I really need to practice patience with is myself.

I promised myself I would write more, and yet I find myself wasting more time worrying about having no time to write then actually writing. Then when I do write, I find that everything sucks. No, seriously I've got three essays going and you're just going to have to trust me when I say, "they suck". They don't suck beyond repair, mind you, but they do suck. My inner critic is working over time these days and mostly what she lacks is the patience to let me actually take the time to get things written. To her I say, 'slow down. These things take time. As long as I'm writing something, I'm winning the battle... so back off."

I promised myself I would excercise more patience with my kids. But, as I mentioned above I think the true test is can I be patient with myself when I forget to exercise said patience? After all, just as my kids are exploring the world for the first time and everything is new to them, so is being a parent new to me. How can I possibly know how I will react the first time anything happens , or for that matter how I'll react the gazillionth time something happens? It's all new.
To my inner mommy critic I say, 'slow down. You can only take this Mommy thing one day at a time. Kids are resilant and you'll all bounce back from a bad day. And the good days will carry you a long long way. Be patient with yourself, you are a good mommy'

I promised myself I would figure out (with many discussions involving my husband) our family economics, and where I want to go next in my career, and where to buy a house, and how to find time to organize the chaos that is my desk at home, and... and on and on goes the lists in my head at night when ( or is it why?) I cannot sleep. To the inner obssessor I say, "relax, slow down. Remember you are a Mommy of two, you are a wife, you are working a day job, you are running a show ,you are keeping a house running and you are struggling writer. Be patient, all these things will work out in time, they always do. Trust yourself, your love, and the universe. Give your mind a little quiet and peace"

Practicing patience is simply that "PRACTICING"

how to beat cabin fever

2008-02-04T14:57:00.001-08:00

Sunday arrived in our fair household this weekend and I found myself telling Noah "no" for the umteeth time. As I watched his face crumble in disappointment yet again, I knew it was time to do something, anything. So, we decided it was time to get out of the house.

If you know our house you know it's small and getting smaller with each passing winter day each additional toy, rock, sticker,or any of the other treasures so vitally important to an almost three year old boy. (Luckily, the one year old has yet to begin to amass any collections of her own, yet)The endless rainy days, combined with runny noses and nap times that refuse to be coordinated, end up leading to too many days that go by without a good dose of fresh air. Sunday we changed all that.

We loaded up the car, two kids, kidpack, boots, extra pants, diapers, camera, snacks, toys for the ride, clean socks -and this was just for a trip across town! "We are going on adventure" we tell Noah. "Where are we going?" he asks time and time again. A question that can grate on one's nerves after awhile, but just knowing we were heading for an outdoor location gave me the patience to hang on. "Somewhere to run,"I answer. This ,of course, leads Noah to the conclusion that we are headed for a race. It took me awhile to connect the dots, (Mom's are awfully slow some days.) When he mentioned a race I asked, "a car race?" "Noooo... a running race" ahhh, I see.

Finally we reached our destination Tryon Creek State Park. A lovely day use park near Lewis and Clark College. A place with trees and trails and, as Noah pointed out, "more mud!" it was perfect. Noah got to run, splash, touch and explore. Lucy got a nap in the fresh air and Mommy and Daddy got some much needed exercise and an oportunity to enjoy the company of each other and their children once again. It was just what the doctor ordered.

In addition to getting outside I also had an opportunity to practice the art of swallowing my fears and letting go. Ssomething they neglect to tell you about when you have babies- that from the minute you give birth to them you are learning how to help them to be people on their own, and that in order to do this you've got to let go a little more each day. This includes letting your child run a little ahead of you without stopping him with every three feet, letting him walk up the steep hill on his own (and sighing, just a little, when he reaches for your hand). You let him run ahead to the bridge trying not to envision it breaking and crashing into the raging river (okay, it's just a creek) below. These are all things you do. And with each leap ahead your heart is joyous to watch your child grow and become more and more independent. Your heart also breaks a teeny tiny bit to know that this moment will never come again... And then you embrace the joy, racing on to catch up with the child jumping into his umpteeth mud puddle and you know it's a good good day.

Evel Knievel and me

2008-02-02T10:11:00.000-08:00

Evel Knievel and me

When I was a kid all the boys in my neighborhood wanted to be Evel, and I mean all the boys. I remember one summer when 3 boys bruised, sprained, broke or otherwise busted up some body part trying to be the one to jump over something like 6 (or was it 16) garbage cans lined up on my street. It was wild and crazy. We were smart enough to know we shouldn't tell our folks why we were taking the garbage cans down the street, but not smart enough to not do it in front of Hazel's house.

Hazel was a the neighborhood recluse which, of course, led us all to call her a witch and play nasy tricks on her whenever we could. She was always watching from her window, with one hand on the phone to dial someone's parents to report the latest misdeed. When she did venture out it was always with too much perfume and a look of pure disdain. My mother always made me buy a box of Thin Mint Girl Scout cookies from my order for Hazel and then take them to her. I'd always ring the bell and thrust them into her hands quickly and run. Everytime I sit next to an older woman on the bus with crooked lipstick and too much perfume I think of Hazel and Evel Knievel.

In addition to the garbage can fiascos there was the time all the boys went to Donny Putz's house (true last name, poor kid) one evening to watch one of Evel's jumps on tv. No girls allowed, I was miffed, not that I really cared but I sensed a shift beginning to occur. It may have been the beginning of the end for hanging out together, boys and girls, without the weirdness of budding breasts and crackling voices. So, the boys were at Donny's and the girls were at Erin Humpel's (again, poor kid) house. I wanted to watch the jump, Erin and Michelle wanted to put on music and dance. Without warning the lights went out and the record player ground to a halt right in the middle of some 70's dance song.Everyone, boys and girls, gravitated to Donny's front yard.

We loved Donny's house, his mom was often working and left her cigarettes and cash just laying about. Easy pickin's for quick hands. The cigarettes were mostly for posturing in the school yard ( I wouldn't actually light one until the following summer) and I don't know about anyone else but I spent my ill-gotten gains on Charlie's Angels trading cards, you know the ones with the bad gum that you just threw away.

I don't remember what caused the blackout, although one theory was that Hazel hexed the power so we couldn't see Evel jump. I just remember thinking how weird it was that we were suddenly boys AND girls and not just the gang. By the end of the summer Michelle and James were going steady and Matthew and Erin made out in Donny's basement. I hung on the sidelines desperate to go steady, and yet equally relieved to still be able to just hang out at Donny's house without worries. The following summer Donny would kiss me and things were never the same.

Rest in peace Evel.

2008-01-26T13:01:00.000-08:00

An Open letter to the Archbishop of Portland:

I wanted to write and tell you why I have broken my ties with the Church. It was not a decision I entered into lightly. And I did much soul searching before I decided it was time for me to go.

Let me tell you a little about myself. I was raised Catholic in the Midwest. I was raised in a fairly liberal diocese. Liberal in the sense that we had women participating in services long before the Vatican ok'ed it. Liberal in the sense that the bishop was often getting 'warning' letters from Rome about some policy he was ignoring. There was a lot of "don't ask don't tell" going on there. And as a kid, I guess I was okay with that way of thinking. We were the diocese known for the radicals who with-held the portion of their federal taxes the figured was going to the ever growing, ever bloated military budget. And the Bishop who got detained, along with a certain 16 year old girl, at a protest and SAC airbase. We had it all. While I knew there were Catholics who didn't always agree with our bishop and his "modern" way of thinking. It always felt like we all just agreed to disagree.

I was very active in the Church in my teens and even into college. I have always believed that the Church (or more likely the people in it) saved me from a difficult home life and probably even saved my life. I moved to Portland in the late 80s. I attended church from time to time,but like many young people bent on finding themselves I found myself drifting away. I found myself constantly questioning the Church's stance on such issues as birth control, a woman's right to choose, women as clergy, homosexuality and other 'human" issues as I came to call them. I kept wandering in and out of the Church's door. I believed, for a long time, that there would come a day in my life time when an American Catholic Church would be born. I kept hoping that sooner or later Rome would come into the modern age and be willing to embrace a new era.

Then came the pedophilia scandals. My very foundation was ripped from underneath me. Parish priests of my youth were accused of unspeakable acts. Even locally a young priest, a priest who's sermons made me feel welcome even as I disagreed with the Church, was shipped back to California to answer for a 'mistake in judgment'. I watched in horror as the Catholic Church continued to deny any wrongdoing, to act like a child and not stand up and accept responsibility; allowing everyone to heal and move on. It broke my heart. I know now this was the beginning of the end for me.

Still I held on a little longer- wandering in and out again- reveling in the beauty of mass and a great love for the Virgin Mary. Hoping against hope things could be healed.But then came the election of 2004 and things became absurd - John Kerry was to be denied Eucharist- as was I because we believed woman had a Choice, we believed that marriage was for everyone, straight or not. And let us not forget my own marriage to a Buddhist was technically not a marriage in the eyes of the Church. I grew tired of waiting for the great change I prayed for. I grew tired of being a cafeteria Catholic picking and choosing what I wanted while ignoring the rest. I was tired of feeling like a hypocrite. Sadly, I broke away. It feels like a broken marriage. I loved the Church, but I cannot live with her anymore, too many arguments and hurts.

I have found a new place to worship. A place that welcomes me in warts and all. A place where they don't care where I came from or where I am on my spiritual journey. I feel as if I have found a home. I still carry the Catholic Church in my heart, like a first love the good memories cannot be erased. I am grateful to those who put me on my first spiritual path, but now I move on.

I wish you only peace.