hair-raising good time

Haircuts and kids are always an adventure. Oliver has gotten better about it over the years, which is a very good thing since his hair grows fast and looks best very short. Eleanor mostly gets hysterical when I even mention cutting her hair. We've done a few bang trims at home without much of a scene but otherwise it's been kind of uh, hairy. There's a place around the corner that does a passable job so that's where we go most of the time.

Once or twice a year we go to Little Snips, a really cool hair salon specializing in kid hair cuts. Most of the chairs look like vehicles such as tractors or taxis or firetrucks. Each station has a TV and toys that help kids look down, or up, as needed. Their prices are very reasonable and we'd go there for every cut if the place were closer and I had more time.

A trip to Little Snips was on our agenda for this morning. I talked to Oliver before we left and asked if he was okay going first, so he could show Eleanor not to be scared. He was cool with that. Going first is always his preference anyway. The opportunity to display a little bravery was just a bonus.

Oliver's haircut went mostly without incident. He declined sitting in the tractor, opting for one of the non-vehicular chairs. He looked very grown up. I had to say, "No, shorter. You can't get it too short. Really." a few times but he ended up looking good and didn't complain. Eleanor was next. She chose the taxi to sit in and Dora on TV. That was a rare treat for her since Oliver has mostly lost interest in Dora (praise the deity or whatever of your choice). Her cut went well too. It was just a trim to clean up her ends and bangs so it didn't take long.

I sent the kids to the play area while I paid the bill. They got so absorbed in playing with the toys that it was hard to pry them away. It was snowing harder than when we arrived and I knew the traffic back into the city would be ugly so I really needed to get them moving. One threat to leave without them was all it took. The put on their jackets and we headed towards the door but before we left Oliver stopped to hug Eleanor. He said, "I'm so proud of you," and I melted into a big puddle of goo.

jingle all the way

Oliver's class guinea pig, Jingles, is spending the long 6 day weekend with us. This photo, taken yesterday, may end up being the only one of her on his lap. This afternoon he discovered her claws are a little sharp on 4 year old tummy as she tried to crawl under his shirt.

She spent the first night in his room but he's kicked her out for making noise the last two nights.

This morning we discovered she likes red pepper. The noises she makes are a bit of a mystery, and the book that was sent with us isn't much help, but the red pepper disappeared very rapidly.

In honor of Thanksgiving, we're thankful the dogs have not discovered Jingles. There really isn't enough of her to spread on a cracker anyway.

Dr Oliver

Me: I ate too much at lunch. My tummy hurts.

Oliver: Do you have a tummy ache?

Me: Yes.

Oliver: Maybe you should not eat so much next time.

believe in me

Oliver has been making up some pretty fantastic stories of late. Over the weekend he concocted an entire soccer league and was able to tell me which teams played and who won, all out of his (over-active) imagination. This started because of a pair of socks sent by Aunt Suzy. He has Penguins socks, Pirates socks, Steeler socks, and soccer socks. One of these things is not like the others.... He wasn't quite sure what to do with socks that were not associated with a team. (Sorry, Riverhounds, but your logo isn't on the socks.) So he made up a league. Makes perfect sense, if you're 4.

Sports at his school have appeared to be over for more than a week, so when he told me on two days ago that there would be a field hockey game tomorrow, varsity vs faculty, I was skeptical. No, I flat-out didn't believe him. To me it seemed just as fantastic as his made-up soccer league.

Imagine my surprise this afternoon when I learned such a game really IS scheduled for tomorrow. I think you know where I'll be.

can't pry him away

Oliver likes school. That may be the understatement of the year. When I picked him up from that first day I asked him if he liked it and if he wanted to go back the next day. "I want to go back EVERY day," was his reply. And he's been unwavering in that sentiment. My problem is that he is putting his money where his mouth is. I frequently have trouble getting him to leave at the end of the day. His latest stalling tactic is to ask what's happening on the athletic field.

The field has been a busy place with practices and games for soccer and field hockey, and Oliver doesn't discriminate. If there are kids on the field, he wants to go watch. Now, suddenly, all that activity is over. The seasons ended, even the playoffs. The field is empty. Oliver doesn't care. I have to go play soccer with him, assuming someone has left a ball lying around (always), or get a little football out of his backpack and let him make me feel inferior because I can't throw a spiral to save my life. He can. Beauties. He's 4 and already running circles around me.

Today the field was empty again but Oliver didn't care. He found a soccer ball and was perfectly happy. Then all the extended day kids came outside and he was in seventh heaven. A small group of fifth graders has kind of adopted him and they started playing football. All over the field minor skirmishes were breaking out (mostly amongst siblings, I noticed), but none in Oliver's group. They played. And played. And played, for nearly an hour and all I heard was encouragement and laughing.

Some days I have to haul him away crying but today when it was time to go the older kids helped me out. There were fist bumps and high fives, and one seriously grinning kid who can't wait to go back to school tomorrow.

picking up speed

Six months ago, Oliver finally mastered the trike, after nearly two years of trying. And now? He's got a big boy bike with a trade-in program. He'll be ready for Le Tour any day now.

lean on me

One of the many things I love about Oliver's school is how the older kids treat the younger ones. Since everyone changes classes, even the PKs, they are out and about in the school. It's a small place (600 or so students in PK - 12) so they get to know each other quickly, but imagine a three and a half foot tall PK kid walking the halls frequented by 8th graders. Many of them are taller than I am! The school has some planned opportunities for interaction (5th grade buddies for PK, 8th grade buddies for K) a lot seems to happen outside the lines.

While I would expect a little intimidation, that's not what I am seeing. Oliver walks around like he owns the place, knows many of the kids by name, and they know him. Case in point, an 8th grader he met last summer. She makes him friendship bracelets and helps in his class during a free period. Her little sister is Oliver's 5th grade buddy and I'm certain he couldn't choose between them. The 5th grader drew him a picture today and he got very angry with me when I dared fold it (to fit in his backpack) without his permission.

He spotted the 8th grader when we arrived at a recent field hockey match and promptly sat on her, instead of sitting with me in the bleachers. I couldn't pry him away and if she was bothered by him, she hid it very well.

A few days later we were watching soccer, faculty vs varsity. Oliver was getting fidgety and went to kick a ball on the sidelines with some other kids, all older than him. Not only did they welcome him into their play, the middle school goal keeper took all the little kids behind the field and kicked the ball around with them.

In my experience, bigger kids tended to ignore the little ones (if I was lucky) and could be downright mean (if I wasn't so lucky). I see not the slightest hint of that sort of behavior at this school.

Since this is the norm at the school and not in any way exceptional behavior, I am confident Oliver will pay it forward and be kind to the little ones once he is a big kid.

one oh oh oh

Here it is. Post 1000. I should look back and do a quick review but I really just want to move forward (and drink!). But a bit of looking back is apparently required. I offer here just a little. We're not going to be doing any of that wallowing thing. Ahem.

I started this blog on a whim a couple of months after the birth of my first child. Our families don't get to see the kids much so I thought it would be a fun way for them to keep up with Oliver (and later, Eleanor). It has evolved into something far less focussed than I planned, for better and worse, with more ranting and complaining than I ever anticipated.

Numbers seem to figure prominently around here. I offer just a few examples.

Here we have Oliver's weight chart (of misery and insanity). We were crazy enough to weigh him every day for far too long. Kids, DO NOT try this at home. No breastfeeding woman should have to do this. I was far too wrapped up in how many ounces I pumped and how many Oliver did or did not gain that I felt a lot of needless stress in my life. Once a week or two is plenty. Seriously.

In 2008 I did Blog365 and we experienced the 24 days of Daboo family Christmas. More insanity, on both counts, yet fun. There have been lists like this one, this one, and another one.

So, moving forward (feel free to drink again) is what we'll be doing around here, forward by getting back to where I started. Growing kids wait for no one.

a gorilla and the best banana ever

a gorilla and the best banana ever
Originally uploaded by clumberkim

Here's the annual photo of the kids on the front lawn, just prior to embarking on a little Halloween fun. (see also last year's photo, and the year before that)

Once again, Oliver chose the costumes back in August, but I think it is the last year he is going to choose for his sister. For the last few days Eleanor has been telling me she wants to be a spider again and I should put that banana thing in a bag. We had a couple of traumatic attempts to try it on and I was sure she was going to have none of it when the moment of truth came.

Trooper that she is, she let Mr C get it on her, then I took over with some encouragement. I told her how cute it looked and took her up to a large mirror so she could see. Wide eyed, she liked what she saw. I told her she was the best banana ever and she ate it up with a spoon. Just another parenting problem solved.

recovered

Much as I wanted to hold them hostage in my backyard (with beer, of course), Sarah and Devra went on their merry way to Canton this morning. Last night's meet up at AlphaLab, hosted by iTwixie with produce donated by Isidore Foods, cupcakes from kdiddy, blueberry zucchini fabulousness from Abby, and pastries from....I dunno. The HoHos and lemon meringues must have put me into a sugar coma.

Having my own private little BlogHer actually helped to ease some of the bitterness. I didn't have to fret about packing, what to wear, who I was or was not seen with, or which parties to go to. I got swag, and the only cute shoes I thought about were Eleanor's.

As we walked to the bus stop this morning Oliver was asking why our guests were getting in their car. "I want them to stay for 10 years!" he said. Me too, Bunny, me too.

a boy and his bear

It was a quick trip to the zoo this morning but very worthwhile as we finally got to see a polar bear from the tunnel. According to a sign near the bears exhibit, polar bears spend just 10% of their time in the water. I would say our odds of seeing the bears from the tunnel are not even that good.

Given that "impatience" was the theme of the day, it was a challenge to get Oliver to stay very long. He saw the bear make one lap of the area and was ready to roll. I was lucky to grab this shot. The bear was rubbing his face with his paw as he swam. I doubt he was really in deep thought.

ladies and gentlemen

Pardon me as I ease back in to this blogging stuff. Apparently I have a bit of a performer on my hands. A ham, even. Though he left his old school a couple of weeks ago, he was invited back for the end-of-year party and puppet show. His teacher gave him the emcee and stage manager duties. He introduced the show and manned the lights.

Learning the lines was pretty simple, giving us a few days to work on his delivery. I just wanted him to speak slowly and he accomplished that. The rest? All Oliver.

dippy kids

Stay tuned. I'll be back to blogging tomorrow. For now, enjoy a shot of the kids while CD was away. We amused ourselves one morning with a visit to Dippy the Dinosaur.

can you tell me how to get, how to get to Sesame Street?

Long time. No blog. Anyway.

It's hardly a newsflash but Sesame Street is on YouTube. This was handy with Oliver when he was younger, as in the days before iPhone. He would watch videos of Elmo singing with a wide variety of celebrities, from Andrea Bocelli to the Goo Goo Dolls. Oliver killed one screen on my laptop but I still thanked MetroDad every day for the tip. (Are you not reading him? Go. NOW! I'll wait, though I know you may not be back for days and you'll probably laugh so hard you'll need at least one wardrobe change.)

Eleanor has now made the discovery. Her favorite for the last couple of weeks has been Put Down the Ducky, also a favorite of Oliver's. Then today we discovered this:

Hysterical. If my kids start asking for celery, I'll know why. And I'll do a little happy dance.

make it stop

Last Saturday, during which Verizon decided three days without internet would be good for me, Oliver turned 4. Four. Years. Old. It couldn't be possible. And tomorrow Eleanor turns 2. It's not surprising I have been waxing nostalgic about their births. The good, the bad, and the war zone. I get even more nostalgic knowing I'll never do it again. Not sorry, as I think out family is perfect as it is (could use a bit more cowbell clumber though) just nostalgic, and maybe a little bit weepy.

So far, four has been a lot like three, with quite a bit more back talk. We seem to have gone from zero to every other word in a matter of hours. Oliver seems to be saying "NO!!" constantly, and the rudeness has kicked up a notch or twelve. He's also showing us glimmers of the switch being flipped, something I keep hearing usually happens between four and five. He's just teasing me, I know, but it's better than the lip and attitude he's showing more frequently.

As for Eleanor, she hit the terrible twos a couple of months ago so I'm not expecting much to change. And she's looked two for quite a while. The only mystery is how far above the 95th percentile is her weight and how far down on the chart did her height go. At least she won't need any shots at the doctor this time.

All this is not to say we are not seeing milestones. Just today Oliver finally rode a tricycle all.by.himself. CD captured it with his camera at pick-up time.

click clack coma

It's been forever since I posted a picture of the kids. Bubba got in there as a bonus. Eleanor's hair is long enough for pigtails now, and Oliver looks more grown up every day.

Tuesday nights require Scholastic DVD since CD has a conference call during the time he usually amuses the kids while I cook. Tonight I left the job to Randy Travis and his excellent narration of Click Clack Moo. I wish I had audio of Oliver's imitation. "Cows that type? Hens on strike? Whoever heard of such a thing?!"

bumpy rides

Oliver and I spent a great weekend in Milwaukee. It rained for two days, but we were not there for the weather. Now that he's a little older, we are seeing him becoming afraid of things that once did not phase him. For instance, flying. He has never been bothered or fearful of flying before, and unfortunately, this was a bumpy couple of flights. Really bumpy. The return was so bad he made me hold his hand the whole way. That was Sunday. Today, after a few days of processing, he wanted to talk about it. This morning he said, "Mommy, you held my hand in the airplane. You kept me safe." I get weepy just typing that. 

Moving on...shred. Argh. What was supposed to be a couple of days off for the trip turned into a full-on hiatus. It's the same with journalling and Weight Watchers. If I take a day off with the intention of going right back, it never happens. I've been staying up late and finding every excuse I can think of not to spend some quality time with Jillian and her minions. Even when I've found a window of opportunity, Comcast on demand has not been cooperative, giving me error messages and not always loading the work out. 

So I bought the damn dvd. Now I own Jillian. She doesn't own me. And last night I finally got myself to bed before midnight. And this morning I was out of bed by 6:15am. I put Jillian in my laptop and headed for the basement. The kids cooperated and let me shred AND shower before waking up. It was a miracle. Felt like day one all over again, but it's done. Tomorrow is day two.

Happy Valentine's Day

Oliver sends Valentine's Day greetings to all. I can vouch for him being pretty fabulous valentine.

Visit my Flickr page to see the version of this photo he chose to put on the cards for his classmates.

they call it a play date

Tomorrow morning Oliver has a playdate at a private school. Except it feels more like an audition. I'll be in a nearby room, pretending to be calm but trying very hard not to throw up. I have been trying to convince myself for the last two months that it doesn't matter, and it was working pretty well until yesterday. I learned two things. A child in the recent past barfed all over said playdate and was admitted anyway. That was very calming. And then I found out about another child who was charming and smart, not unlike Oliver, who was not admitted. It was a quick trip down a slippery slope to hysteria. Due to its proximity to a girls' school, this school is pretty competitive for boys. And since they value diversity, charming and smart white boys can be over-represented in the applicant pool. Then there are the spots taken by younger siblings of current students. When the starting point is space for 16 students, my little panic attack doesn't seem nearly so irrational, except the part where I starting plotting ways to highlight the fact that Oliver is half South Asian.

Here's the part where I convince myself to go back to thinking it doesn't matter.

• Oliver really is smart and charming. I have yet to find a teacher who didn't gush all over him.
  
• We have a plan B and it's not bad.
  
• We even have a plan C that's pretty good.
  

and most importantly,

• I don't want to be part of a club that doesn't want my kids

There. I feel better. Maybe they will have the coffee spiked with just a little bit of xanax.

jump for joy

I'm expecting a similar reaction when I give him the news tomorrow morning, and tell him that his beloved Polamalu sealed the deal.

He watched the first half, putting him way past bed time. Tomorrow could be ugly. Too bad I'll be at work.