Campaign Time

So, it's that time of year and many of you, I'm sure, have already chosen your candidate. For those of you who have not perhaps this will help:

(I'm sorry to all who are now reading this post, but I have had to remove the very funny campaign clip due to technical difficulties.)

In the Center Ring: The Dreaded Dentist vs. the Crazy Kid

Today was the dreaded day. The dentist day. Luke's first dentist day and in our family this will only be the first of many dreaded days at the dentist because of terrible teeth. Well, not actually terrible, just not great. I guess it has something to do with soft enamel or acidic saliva or some sort of combination of both which means that we need to fork out excessive amounts of cash to put fillings in baby teeth because we can't let those cavities mature because somehow it will do great harm to the big kid teeth hiding somewhere deep within those cavernous gums. Or some such thing. At any rate, knowing Luke and his aversion to anything that is not his idea and knowing how much he hates his hair cuts and how much he hates having his nails trimmed and how difficult brushing his teeth is, I knew today would be something of an adventure.

So our adventure begins with Luke falling asleep on the way to the dentist. It's never a good sign when you have to wake a sleeping toddler as you cart him to a place where he is going to be poked and prodded and he knows it. So we walked into the dentist office and the office manager said in her very smiley voice "oh is this Mitchell and Luke?" and Luke said "NO!" like maybe he was actually someone else and she was really rude to even consider that he was that other person.

Well, Mitchell had a great check up and for once we just got that news that we are only "watching" some spots. I think that these are the same "spots" we've been watching for a couple of years and, yes, they are different from the spots that were watched and deemed not good a visit or so ago resulting in another visit in order to fix those spots, but these particular spots are holding steady. I actually think the purpose of the dentist telling me we are watching spots is to scare me into flossing Mitchell's mouth every day or so. And it generally works, so his scare tactics really are quite effective, but after this next bit he might be reconsidering how frequently he wants my family in his office so I'm not sure we're going to be "watching spots" much longer, particularly since the receptionist did "forget" to schedule the next six month check up, so.......

So, here it is: Luke's turn. I should preface this by saying that today he has returned to saying his very emphatic "NO WAY, JOSE" which is good, I guess, since I was missing that little phrase coming out his mouth the last few weeks. But, since he was yelling this at the hygienist during Mitchell's entire appointment I did have a bad feeling about how his turn would turn out.


First of all, he refused to sit in "the chair" and then he refused to let that hygienist get anywhere near him and it didn't get any better when the dentist arrived. Luke proceeded to scream at the top of lungs from the moment the dentist walked into the room and didn't stop until we were in the car. I'll just summarize the ordeal with this: he bit, he screamed, he spit, he frothed at the mouth, he thrashed and thrashed and thrashed, and he had a look in his eyes that will probably haunt me for the next while because it seemed to saying "mom, this is killing me, literally, and I can't believe you would let this happen to me and I'm so scared and I'm possibly possessed by an evil spirit but you have to love me anyway!" He thrashed about so much that he kicked off his sneaker which the dentist very nicely picked up handed back to him, and then he proceeded to chuck it across the room as hard he could and refused to put that shoe back on no matter what. I guess it was tainted with the dentist's coodies.

But our adventure ends at the reception desk (with Luke clinging to me like a little monkey hanging onto its mother for dear life) where the boys picked out their prizes for behaving so well. Luke, who, I remind you, was still screaming, would not pick a prize....until he saw the bouncy balls and then he stopped crying long enough to choose his color before he resumed the noise. In an effort the soothe the kid, that very nice office manager offered him several other prizes and stickers, bribes in other words, all of which ended up in my purse because he claimed he didn't want them and so he was not to be pacified...until we reached the car and after thirty seconds or so he said, "Hey, I want my stickers." And with that it was done.

I can't wait for next time!

Someone else's blog

It's shameless really, my promotional plug for a fabulous blog. But really, how could I not? Its Jane's blog, after all; my darling little eldest child. And it's really all her...with just a little technical assistance, I guess. Anyway, check her out at jbugalicious2.blogspot.com. She's thrilled about this little adventure of hers!

It Begins Again.....

School is in session. Long, structured days have returned. Alarm clocks now buzz. Piano and soccer and running here and there and everywhere is in full swing. We've attended Back to School Night. Signed paper after paper after paper. Agreed to this and that. Paid for such and such. Produced the requisite documents. Joined the PTA, perhaps grudgingly. I've been oriented as a room mother, again. Now homework has begun in earnest. And, once more, we are becoming quite familiar with the halls of the school.

This was what Jane looked like on her first day:

Many days later (because Kindergartners must learn to be patient), this is what Mitchell looked like on his first day:

I think he actually did wear shoes to school, although I couldn't be entirely certain. What is certain is that after all this, everyday, at day's end, we are tired.

The Mermaid Moment or Ode to a Summer Day

This is an illustration of the wonderful, long days of summer that, as I finally finish writing this, are slowly fading away .........

So, Jane and her friend, Emma, were having a tea party which I thought would end, after they had finished eating their little sandwiches and cookies, with beautifully clad, make-up covered girls retiring to Jane's room to play with dolls, dance, listen to music, and do whatever these two girls do when they spend hours upon hours together. But no. Soon they arrived in my room where I was busy doing one of the most loathsome of chores: folding the laundry. But that hated chore is for another post and entirely beside the point which is that the girls arrived in my room and had a request that went something like this:

We would like to put on swimsuits and then fill up the hot tub in your bathroom and then when we get too hot we'll run outside and cool off with the hose until we get cold and then we'll run back in and get back in the hot tub until we get too hot and then we'll go out and play in the hose until we get too cold and and we'll do this over and over and over and over again and it'll be so much fun!

I should mention that I do not have a hot tub, per se, in my bathroom, instead it is an adequate tub that does happen to have jets that probably spew gross gunk because they are rarely ever used. However, this did not matter to or even cross the minds of the little mermaids. Especially after their third trip running through my house without even attempting to use a towel.

It was after the first or second or maybe the third trip to the hose that they decided they needed goggles so they could forage on the bottom of the "wonderland de tub."



The goggles remained in place, never leaving their heads over the next while....possibly they became something of outgrowth on the lovely faces of the little ladies who were in the midst of a debate over whether they were to be land lovers or sea dwellers. Apparently, it really is a dilemma for little mermaids and these particular girls were quite invested in their decision because out came the snorkels and into the water the water they went! Again. And again.


However, the sea could not hold them forever; the call for land was simply too strong.....



The land, however, desperately needed to be adorned with water features. So these two budding engineers busied themselves in the design process.


Meanwhile, two little boys were wondering why there was extremely loud music coming from what was formerly known as "Mom and Dad's bathroom" which had now turned into something of a lagoon, but which was currently empty. So they followed the trail of wet, soggy footprints in the carpet and onto the wood floor out into the backyard to discover just what was going on. And I believe that they learned an important lesson that will probably stay with them for much of their lives: they had no idea what was going on in the minds of those girls.

So to sum up, a poem:

The summer day
It came to play
And lasted long
While we sang our songs
And played our games
And rhymed our names
And now we lament its passing........

The Evidence

I've had a few requests for pictures of the disastrous trip to the "salon." So, in the spirit of exhibiting certain aspects of our family life I present:

Exhibit A: The Fuzzy Monchichi look



















As a comparison - Exhibit B: A Fuzzy Monchichi




















Exhibit 1: The Shaggy Look




















Exhibit 2: Shaggy























But who doesn't want to look a little shaggy now and then?


I would be remiss at this point if I didn't inform all of you that yes, indeed, there is one thing that can fix hair mishaps and disasters: in our house it is known as goop, to most of you it is known as hair gel, and my boys insist on applying plenty of it....themselves.

So in conclusion, the Fixes:


Exhibit I: The fauxhawk...of sorts


















Exhibit II: Mr. Slick



















Aren't they cute...despite it all!

Luke in the Midst of Things

I know what you're thinking: Oh no, a bomb went off and Luke was hit by shrapnel! But don't fret, he's fine, he's just the third child....and he's finally sleeping. This has been a fairly constant theme in Luke's life, the no-sleep thing. I guess the third child thing, too. In fact, when I was looking at him this morning I was wondering why his pajamas seemed to be stretched all the way down to his knees when I remembered that it was after 11 a.m. and I hadn't changed his diaper yet today. And considering the large quantities of fluids he had consumed it was not a shocker that his diaper was literally dripping off of him. I really ought to start thinking about potty training but just like encouraging him to walk, which we didn't do until he was about fifteen months old, I'm not sure I'm ready for that. The operative words here having to do with me. I know, I know, my mom had nine kids and I don't remember it being until the last one that she was just too tired to really care about things like where he ended up sleeping. So maybe this is all just a last child kind of thing and it doesn't really have anything at all to do with the number of children I have.

But really, back to Luke sleeping, its becoming quite a common theme that he is found sleeping in some very interesting places. For instance, I picked him up from a "play date" and he had a very interesting carpet tattoo on his face. Apparently he had a ball playing face down in dreamland. And then there was the week or so that he would lie down nearly every day on the narrow bench in the kitchen and take a little snooze. Of course, he tried that one again a couple of days ago but quickly complained he was stuck on the bench so he's back to the floor now.

So maybe this says something about the lack of parental effort to get him to bed on time. But really that is another whole topic since he hasn't gone peacefully into bed once in his life....okay maybe that's a slight exaggeration, I think he might have been grateful for the soft pillow on three occasions. Or maybe this has to do with the fact that despite wanting to stay up till the wee hours of the night he loves sharing a room with his idol, his big brother, and once the early bird Mitchell is up Luke simply has to be following along. And of course Mitchell doesn't nap therefore Luke doesn't want to nap....but sometimes he cannot fight it and he succumbs.

For now, I guess I'll just do what I've been doing for the past couple of years with him and chalk this one up the fact that he is the third, and the last, and I'm just not up to being strict with the schedule or maybe its just that he is the last and I'm not ready to force an issue that doesn't seem to matter in my family all that much. He's my baby, after all, and I'm not sure I'm ready for him to grow up. So even if he does walk around like a sleep deprived zombie I'm okay coddling him...at least today.