It takes a village

I ate lunch yesterday in a local cemetery (hey, it's quiet, shady, and has a view--plus I don't get out of the car or leave garbage or anything). I was driving back to work afterwards down a pretty busy secondary street when I saw something, about two blocks ahead. It looked like a toddler crossing the street.

I squinted, sure it couldn't have actually been a toddler crossing the street, or if it was, surely its parent was within two or three steps. There weren't any other cars going in the direction I was, but a big SUV slowed down to let the little boy (as it turned out) pass, as did two cars that were coming behind him.

I couldn't believe my eyes. No parent anywhere in sight. The other cars passed by and I pulled to the side of the street, still looking for someone who was watching this kid. By the time I got out of the car, the toddler was in an open garage across the street, touching the tailpipe of a motorcycle that was parked there. Thank god, no one had ridden it recently, so the pipes weren't hot.

I kept looking around and walked towards the little boy. He looked like he was between 18 months and two years old--not talking yet, as it turned out. I said Hi to him, then asked if this was his house. He tried to climb onto the seat of the motorcycle. I asked if we could go to his mommy, and he made a noise and pointed to the red tailight on the bike and a red shovel that was leaning against the wall.

I asked again if we could go to his mommy, holding out my hand, but he turned away to keep trying to climb on the bike. I figured if I tried to pick him up, he'd probably scream. So I went back across the street to the nearest house and rang the doorbell. Probably four minutes or so had passed.

I kept an eye on the boy until a man came to the door. I said, do you have a child? He said yes. I said, he's across the street! He said, I didn't even know he was out, as he started barefoot down the steps. I said, he's not in the house, he's in the garage. He headed into the garage and I watched to be sure that the little boy would go with him.

He picked him up and started back across the street towards the house, and I got back in my car and went back to work. There were cars parked on the sides of the street, and if the boy had stepped out from behind one of them into traffic, he could have been killed.

My good deed for the day!

Howdy

Last Monday, I spent hours in a hearing with attorneys. Tuesday, I spent hours in a deposition with attorneys. Wednesday, I spent hours preparing for a deposition with attorneys. Thursday, I spent hours in depositions with attorneys.

I'm glad that part of last week is over.

Last Friday, the family traveled to the in-laws in Illinois for part of the long weekend. We had a wonderful visit. Then we got back on the road and drove four hours back home (not including time we were stopped eating dinner). One of the attorneys from last week had lunch with me on Thursday. She has four children and said that she can't fathom that anyone with children would choose to travel without a portable DVD player.

She couldn't figure out what we do in a compact car with our girls for four hours. I told her that we talk, we sing, and we play car games. I didn't talk about it, but the girls also fight over toys, we yell at them, they both sing to themselves, Allie tells stories to herself, Julia (and sometimes Allie) usually dozes off for a little bit, and when we get close to Nana and Papa's house, we play "Is that their house?"

It was a pretty standard trip and we were glad to see our home again. Not as happy as the cats were to see us, however. There was rampant love going on all over the house.

I like holiday weekends. I'm just trying not to think about going back to work tomorrow.

My kids are lucky

Allie had another field trip today, to the local library. We don't actually visit the local library that much because Allie gets new books almost every day from her school library. This is a significant difference from me as a kid. I was a bookworm and we owned very few books. In fact, I don't know that I owned any books until I was older, maybe 12 or 13. So though I got some books from the school library, my sisters and me (mostly me) went to the local library on our bikes pretty much every weekend.

Going to the local library was a scary trip for a, say, 9 year old. There was a busy street at the end of the trip, with a left turn that was challenging, followed immediately by a bridge that had a open grid deck, followed by railroad tracks. Despite my nervousness, I'd trek up there all the time, stuffing the basket on the front of my bike with as many books as would fit.

I remember checking out too many books more than once. The library's return book slot was right next to the bike rack, so I'd fill my basket with the books I really, really wanted to read, then go through the rest, prioritizing until I determined which books to put in the return slot.

Allie and Julia own hundreds of books, some from Greg's childhood, some from their cousin Emily (thanks Em and Michelle), many they've gotten as gifts from other people, and many, many that we've bought them.

We say all the time that our girls are spoiled, but you know what, they really, truly are. They have thousands of words waiting, to take them away to adventures that they can't even imagine right now.

I got a new book from the girls and Greg for Mother's Day that I've started but not finished, but you know what--I'm thinking of heading off for the local library myself. Why should my kids have all the fun!

The Day After

Do you remember this movie from 1983? I'm watching it right now and almost 25 years after it first came out, it's still shocking. The missles just exploded over Kansas and the rest of the U.S., over 300 missles according to the military that's shown talking, right before they all die.

I remember seeing parts of this movie back then, but I couldn't stand to watch the entire thing. I still can't. I was graduating from high school then, ready to head off to college and on my own for the first time. I don't think I thought much about if I'd have children someday at the time, but now that I do have kids, the scenes of children dying disturb me.

As well they should. The world is still a troubled place, but at least this type of lunacy seems to have been abated. I hope we never end up in that place again.

Pink is contagious, who knew

Julia and I are definitely having battles these days about her clothing. It's very difficult to get her to wear anything that isn't pink, and now that we've had some warmer days, it's difficult to get her to wear anything that isn't a pink sundress.

She wanted to wear a sundress to the baseball game on Saturday. Telling her that it was only 63 degrees out didn't dent her resolve. She said she'd wear tights.

Once again, I must fall prey to every parent's lament about how much easier it was to dress Allie. Even now, Allie will generally wear whatever is selected for her or she picks her own acceptable clothing based on what I tell her the weather is going to be.

Julia became contaminated with this "pink is the only acceptable color" thing from somewhere and, as a result, has way too many clothes that she refuses to wear.

Yesterday, it was very warm here, close to 90. Today it's going to be in the high 60s. I'm anticipating a battle in about 15 minutes. No, she's not wearing tights today.

The Prince and Me, etc.

Have you seen this movie? It stars Julia Stiles and some Luke guy. He's the prince of Denmark (incognito) and she's a farm girl from Manitowoc, Wisconsin, both studying pre-med at the University of Wisconsin.

I've never seen the whole movie, but I've caught the last hour or so two or three times. Julia's character takes the prince home for Thanksgiving, which for some mysterious reason looks more like late summer in California (trust me, I know what November looks like in Manitowoc, since that's the county of my hometown, and this wasn't it). The dialogue references Rocky Rococo's Pizza, a Wisconsin chain, (which majorly sucks, by the way) and a facsimile of the Manitowoc County Fairgrounds is the setting for a climactic scene where the prince wins over Julia's character's family by winning a lawnmower race.

It's kind of charming and the Czech republic stands in for Denmark at the end of the movie. It must have done reasonably well since they made a sequel last year. Since I again caught part of the original today (which Allie loved, since it was about a royal family), I started wondering about the second movie and I got online to read what the plot was.

Ooooo. People really, really hate the sequel. I read numerous postings to the IMDB message board and almost everyone said that they shouldn't have made the sequel unless the original actors returned. Apparently the only actor who returned was the guy who played the prince and he looked like he was bored. How frequently does that happen--that everyone who made the original movie returns for the next (discounting all of this summer's sequels, which all had much bigger budgets). I'm thinking not too frequently. Just get over it, people.

On another note, Happy Mother's Day to my mom, my mother-in-law, and all the other moms I know in my life. Hope you all had a wonderful day. Thanks to my amazing husband and my beautiful children, I did! Thank you!

Got out of the house, got some fresh air

It was seasonably cool, sunny, and only lightly breezy today. In other words, the perfect day for a ball game. An employee group at my company had tickets available for a Class A baseball team's game this weekend, including all-you-care-to-eat picnic, so we went. Our first baseball of the year.

The Beloit Snappers started out by giving up 3 runs in the top half of the first inning (sheesh, guys!), but they redeemed themselves by the the fifth, when they caught up and were ahead by one run. Unfortunately, we didn't get to see the end of the game because our toddler parking meter ran out. You can only put enough into those for about three hours, you know.

I'll let Greg tell you about the screaming that occurred, but the other three of us had a good time. Perfect spring day.

On the way home, we stopped at a stoplight at a busy intersection. Julia spoke up from the backseat. "Oh, Mom. I don't think you're going to make it." I told her that the stoplight was going to make the other cars stop and then I would make it. That child, unfortunately, has definitely inherited her father's pessimism.

We made it home safely, obviously. I think everyone will sleep well tonight. Even little miss pessimist.

End of an era; oops, maybe not yet

Every morning, I drop Allie off at her elementary school.

We pull into the student drop-off lane (which is single-file cars), wait our turn to get near the door where many kids are milling about, then she hops out of the back seat, I hop out of the front seat with her backpack, she gives me a kiss, I give her a hug and her backpack, I hop back into the car and drive away, usually refastening my seatbelt as I drive since I'm trying to make a quick getaway for the drivers behind me.

We've been doing this rapid drop off for two years now, so we've got it down. She told me once that a friend asked her why I get out of the car every day. We talked about me wanting to get a last hug from her before she starts her day away from me and I told her that if she wanted me to stop, she just needed to say so.

This week on Tuesday, when we pulled up at school, she said, Mom, don't get out. She unbuckled, leaned forward to give me a kiss, grabbed her backpack and exited. I didn't tear up about the thought of us ending this tradition, but it did make me a little sad that apparently peer pressure to be cool when saying goodbye to Mom was making her change our routine.

Wrong!

Yesterday, I asked her when we were almost there if she wanted to say goodbye like the day before. She said, nope. I told her good, because otherwise we need to plan better so I get my last hug before we get in the car to head to school. She said, no, I want to keep doing it like we always do.

I know the day is coming soon enough when, maybe as a second-grader, she'll be too cool to kiss her mom goodbye with other kids watching. I'm just glad that day isn't here yet.

Tag, I'm it

OK, Dan tagged me for this My Favorite Toddler Books thing, so here goes:

1. The Big Red Barn - Margaret Wise Brown

By the big red barn in the great green field, there was a pink pig who was learning to squeal . . .

Margaret Wise Brown also wrote Goodnight Moon, which usually gets listed as a favorite in these types of lists. I hate Goodnight Moon, but I really like the rhythms in The Big Red Barn. There was a time when I had pretty much the entire book memorized. Allie loved to look at the pictures in her board book and count the animals.

2. Are You My Mother? - P.D. Eastman

"I did have a mother," said the baby bird. "I know I did. I have to find her. I will. I WILL!"

Being a mom, I love this book that celebrates how dedicated a little bird could be to finding his mother, even though he was just hatched and he has no idea what she looks like. My favorite part is when he thinks that a steam shovel is his mother. He calls her a Snort.

3. Bedtime for Frances - Russell Hoban

"I think there's a monster in my room. Can I have some cake?"

Fortunately, I don't have one of those kids who finds every excuse imaginable to delay falling asleep. For that reason, Allie and Julia like to hear this book about a BADGER (so there, Dan!) who just isn't ready for bed. The above line is my absolute favorite in the book.

4. Don't Let the Pigeon Drive the Bus! - Mo Willems


"I thought he'd never leave. Hey, can I drive the bus? Please? I'll be careful. I tell you what: I'll just steer."

There's a whole series of these Pigeon books, and we also own the one where the Pigeon finds a hot dog and doesn't want to share it. Funny, great illustrations, and easy for a beginning reader who's heard it many, many times.

5. There's a Party at Mona's Tonight - Harry Allard

Potter decided to tunnel his way into Mona's basement. He said he was from the gas company and had come to read the gas meter. Mona didn't buy it. "Scram, Potter!" she said.

I have to admit, we didn't even buy this book. One of Greg's friends from work said that we had to have it, and she photocopied the pages and put them in a little binder for Allie. We don't have color in the illustrations, but this story about a pig who will do anything to get into a party at Mona's is very amusing. I like the quote above because it reminds me of when the gas meter man actually came to the house, opened the back door, and headed down the stairs to the basement without even knocking. You don't see stuff like that anymore (I say that in a creaky old person voice).

6. Little House books - Laura Ingalls Wilder

"Where's my little half pint, almost drunk up?"

I've written before about my love for these books, so I won't repeat myself, except to say that if I didn't dislike alliterative names, my firstborn would definitely have been named Laura.

By the way, part of the reason that Allie is named Alexandra is because of the Black Stallion books, which feature a boy named Alec.

I'm tagging Dwayne from Sluggo is Yoyo and either Shannon or Anna from Parrs So Far. I hope this will encourage either of them to write something new. I'd also like to tag my mother-in-law, who often comments here, but she doesn't have a blog. Marcia, you could comment on this post if you choose to participate. I know you get a lot of practice reading to toddlers!

This was fun, Dan. Thanks.

As heard in a car near you

A man, a woman, a 7-year-old girl, and a 3 1/2-year-old girl are riding along in the car.

The 7-year-old says, Mom, what's C-H-I-C-A-G-O.

The woman says, That's Chicago, honey. You've been there. Remember when you were in Uncle Shannon's and Aunt Anna's wedding, and remember when we went to Chicago to meet your cousin Anika?

(General conversation follows, then about 10 minutes passes)

The car pulls up next to a bus. The 3 1/2-year-old says, Mom, whats' G-H-L.

The woman says, Ummm, Gahull.

The younger child thinks for a minute, then says (in a tone of great delight), I've been there!

The man and the woman look at each other and both stifle laughter. The man says, Yes, honey, I remember when you went to Gahull!

The woman puts her hand to her mouth so she doesn't let any giggles out. The young child says, Yes, we went there and we did that thing!

The man lets out a chuckle and says, Yes, and that thing was really fun, wasn't it!

The child says, Yes, it was fun (in a tone of great satisfaction).

Yep, that time there was the best time ever. I remember it well.

In our war, the latest salvo

We purchased a new grill this evening, and if we ever find our camera (Greg had it the last time I saw it!), I'll take pictures tomorrow while we assemble it. The last time we bought a grill, it took Greg and my dad together a total of 2 1/2 hours to make all the pieces fit together. This time, stickers on similar grills at another store said that assembly would only take 1/2 hour. I'll believe that when I see it.

We also purchased a very heavy bag of river rock and Greg worked up a sweat vacuuming the latest piles of dirt into the vacuum and then putting several inches of rocks into our lovely glazed pot.

I guess I'm crossing my fingers. I'm not really looking forward to digging those kitty graves in the backyard. We'd probably chase away our last neighbors who aren't already moving.

OK, I'm getting a complex now

Probably back in November, our neighbor to the north put his house up for sale. Oh, that's too bad, we thought. But Sam's getting older, he has to pay someone to care for his lawn and clear his sidewalk, so he's probably moving to a condo where that will all be taken care of. His house hasn't sold yet, but there's a sign out front.

Probably back in February, our neighbor to the east put her house up for sale. Oh, that's too bad, we thought. But Lori has a big house and a new boyfriend, so maybe they're buying something new together or she's moving in with him. Her house hasn't sold yet, but there's a sign out front.

Today, our neighbor to the south put her house up for sale. We don't know what's up with Wendy and her boyfriend, but if our neighbors to the west put their house up for sale, we're giving our house a body-odor makeover.

You realize, of course, that this means war

We bought a new plant this weekend, to go in the big glazed pot on the floor in the living room. It's a beautiful plant, green and yellow streaked leaves, lush and healthy (we'll see how long that lasts!).

Greg put it in it's new home on Tuesday night and covered the little bit of soil that was showing under the leaves with aluminum foil, since we've had unfortunate experiences with the kittens digging in my plants. On Wednesday morning, there were huge piles of dirt all around the new plant (on the carpeting) from where the cats had dug.

Needless to say, Greg and I were not pleased when we saw the mess. Greg proceeded to beat both cats quite excessively, to the point that he was hissed at more than once. They both are avoiding him now, which is unfair because someone needs to convince them to stay away from the plants. They seemed cowed.

This morning, after eating breakfast, I went upstairs to where Greg was still in bed and asked him if he'd heard it. He said, heard what. I said, heard the cats saying f**k you, as they destroyed not one of my plants during the night, but three.

Three separate yet similar heaps of soil, a tipped over plant, torn leaves--the whole nine yards of bad cat behavior. They. Are. So. Incredibly. Naughty.

I cleaned up the mess (Greg did it last night). If they do it again tonight, we may not have any kittens by tomorrow evening. I think we can dig some nice little plots out in the backyard.

Transitions

Why is change so painful. Why do most people resist change with all of their being. Why is it so uncomfortable to face something different. And how can all of us become more resilient.

And how can you make people accept change more easily.

That's really the question for me lately. I know a lot of people (like 300) who are experiencing significant changes in their lives and I know that most of them are going to hate it.

I can understand not wanting to have your family be inconvenienced, for example. But I also know some people just instinctively seem to strongly dislike anything new. Even good new stuff.

What can you do or what can you say to make them realize that in almost all cases, change is a good thing?

Night night, sleep tight

Allie is going on her very first sleepover this Saturday night. One of her school friends is turning 7 on Monday and so she is being allowed to invite a friend for play outside, movies in the evening, and then a sleepover.

This morning, Allie was planning what to pack in her suitcase. She said she was going to need her sleeping bag, clothes, a hairbrush, her toothbrush and toothpaste, her stuffed dog, books, snacks, other toys . . . I told her she needs to bring clothes, her toothbrush, and a comb. We haven't heard from the other parents yet, but I doubt the other things are going to be necessary.

She is so excited. We were talking this morning and I said that she's going to have lots of fun with Hannah, then be able to settle down and have a wonderful sleep, then have breakfast and come home. She said, yes, Mom, but before we go to sleep we're going to have a pillow fight!

This all makes me remember sleeping over at my friend Mary's house when I was in grade school. We always had fun, but I must have always stayed over on Friday nights. On Saturday mornings, Mary had tap and ballet lessons at 8:00, downtown. I remember having to get up for her lessons, then sitting in the bleachers at the Community House, watching and wishing I could have tap and ballet lessons.

I remember a disastrous attempt at making pancakes one late morning. I remember us making phone calls to information in Hollywood, California for various stars. I remember her trying to teach me to play her piano.

I think it's cool that Allie is starting this part of her life. When she's as ancient as I am, she can remember this first adventure and tell her own daughter that she hopes she too has a wonderful time on her first sleepover.