Blue Times Two

Because You Should Make Them, Too

2009-04-19T15:58:00.018-05:00

Chow Mein Noodle Bird Nests

For mint eggs:
Half this recipe unless you plan to make a LOT of nests. This yields enough dough for 50+ small eggs.

1/3 cup soft butter

1/3 cup light corn syrup

1/2 tsp. salt

1 tsp. mint extract

3 1/2 cups (1 lb.) sifted confectioner's sugar

blue food coloring

Combine all ingredients in large mixing bowl. Stir until blended, then knead into stiff dough. For robin's eggs, add a few drops of blue food coloring and knead until color is smooth. (I used 3 drops, which gives a pale blue shade). Cover and refrigerate for 30 min.

For nests:
Double this recipe if you plan to use all of the candy mixture

2 bags butterscotch chips

4-5 cups (approx.) chow mein noodles

Melt butterscotch chips in microwave by heating in 30-40 second increments on high, then stirring, until completely melted. Stir in noodles.

Use a large table spoon to drop clumps of noodles onto cookie sheet covered with wax paper. Pinch off small bits of mint dough and roll into egg shape, placing in middle of nest. Allow butterscotch to harden back up before serving. Refrigerate completed nests for later.

Yay!

Time Travel

2009-04-19T14:46:00.010-05:00

Little known fact: My mom was my kindergarten teacher.

One of my favorite memories (it's a 27-year-old memory so you know it's good) is the time she made these cool little bird nests with my class. Late last night, sitting on my porch swing in the rain, I decided that making edible bird nests was a project Cable and Parker should enjoy today.

I could just imagine the taste of butterscotch, chow mein noodles, and sweet, minty robin eggs... But it was 1983 the last time I'd actually laid eyes on those little wonders. Calling home at midnight to ask my Mom to dig through the dozen possible locations where the recipe might be stashed wasn't really an option. Such are the predicaments for which Google was invented, right?

Despite the apparent 5,143 variations of this project that have sprung up over the past two decades, it was no trouble finding the basic melt, mix and drop instructions for the nests. But for the eggs, these all had lame stuff like peanuts or jelly beans. Thankfully, I have great Google karma, and it only took three tries to find the exact recipe for the little mint candy eggs. Yes! We're in business! (And, assumably, Mom slept undisturbed until her alarm went off for church).

So we made the bird nests today, and it's been like going back in time. They are exactly like the ones I made in kindergarten! Cable and Parker, who initially wanted nothing to do with this idea when it was first presented this morning, ended up loving the actual process and have even decided to give nests -- ahem, excuse me -- "boooord nest-is" to a few of their favorite people.

Thanks Mom.

When they weren't nibbling it, Cable and Parker (in the sink) kneaded the candy mixture.

Finished nests.
(Note for the observant: This is how often they change clothes in a day.)

SNOW

2009-03-01T09:53:00.000-06:00

Puke Times Two

2009-02-14T19:26:00.002-06:00

Please pardon the brief adjustment to our title.

Slowly, But Surely

2009-02-13T19:53:00.007-06:00

After 72 straight hours of the latest stomach virus, Parker is finally starting to come around. Thank goodness we're on a long weekend now, because he's still barely eating, gets upset when he has to walk, and only stays awake for a couple hours at a time.

Phenergan, a good night's sleep, and the best pediatrician in Memphis have my utmost appreciation.

Cable

2009-02-01T13:45:00.001-06:00

My Cable Guy.

What Makes a Rainbow?

2009-02-01T12:08:00.005-06:00

Last week marked the 100th day of school this year, and to help celebrate, the boys had an assignment: Find 100 of something at home and bring them to school.

One parent I talked to said her son's class (at another school) was instructed to collect their 100 items and sew them to a T-shirt!?!?! And, of course, her son chose 100 Legos, so she spent unspeakable numbers of evening hours toiling over that little project.

Can I get a "Well thank God the boys don't go to THAT school!" ???

On the night we got to work, the three of us started looking around the house for possibilties. It was then that I realized, 'Hmm. We don't have one hundred of anything around here.' I can attribute this quandry to at least two causes:

1) From what I see in the checkout line, my level of consumerism is well below average.

2) While I have endless stuff that needs to be thrown away, or put somewhere reasonable, it's all different things. I don't save a lot of one variety of crap (with the exception of Target bags). I say "crap" meaning twist ties, hotel toiletries, plastic milk jug rings, old toothbrushes, etc. This is legitimately surprising, seeing as how at least three generations of women before me saved or are currently saving each of those commodities and more. And yes, absolutely, I regret not following their Waste Not, Want Not examples every time I have a bag of frozen corn I can't secure or a cat I can't entertain. "If I'd only stashed away the past 11 years' worth of elastic pantyhose tops and and ziplocs, I could've fashioned a tourniquet to save your arm, and had a sealed storage bag to transport your other body parts to the ER when that dangerously bored cat mauled you for fun!"

Yep, we really had to think outside the box on this one, since clothing in sizes 4-5T, pieces of spaghetti, bills needing to be filed, items in need of fixing, overdraft notices, and excuses for not paying child support (even in bundles of a hundred) probably wouldn't be that impressive to Cable and Parker's classmates.

Lincoln Logs and blocks were certainly good possibilities, but neither of the boys seemed really sold on those. So I pondered the resources available to us, which is how we decided to raid my stash of card stock I use to make cards. Brainstorming led me to the rainbow idea, and when I presented it to Cable and Parker, they both (to my surprise) were really into it.

So after supper on Thursday night, we learned about the color spectrum and ole' ROY G. BIV while I cut squares of the colors and the boys glued them into arcs to make their rainbows. We stopped periodically to tally up, and after re-counting each one twice for good measure, they each had a rainbow made of exactly 100 pieces of color (and woke up happy the next morning)!

Go ahead and count. It's all there.

Ambition

2009-01-26T23:34:00.003-06:00

A post-dinner conversation this evening reminded me of Cable and Parker's personality differences. They don't show up all that often, really, but when they do, it's pretty funny.

Parker: Mommy, what does graduate mean?

Me: Well, when you finish high school, you "graduate." That means you did everything you were supposed to do, and you're finished, and you --

Parker: Can stay at home?

Cable: No, Pakooh. Then you go to college. And then you go to medical school. You don't stay home.

Guitar Heroes

2008-12-26T16:42:00.005-06:00

Christmas Is Here

2008-12-26T16:31:00.005-06:00

Do You Believe in Santa Claus?

2008-12-26T16:23:00.003-06:00

Christmas Cards

2008-12-21T12:56:00.009-06:00

Last night we made Christmas cards for our family, using these card-making packs we picked out in the dollar section at Target. Each pack had two cards with stickers and other embellishments for decorating. Cable and Parker will be mailing them at the post office today!

You know that one (above) is Cable's because he's wearing a tie.
He's wanted a tie for quite some time now.

Below is Parker, whose snowman has a candy cane, a broom,
and an outfit covered in significantly less blueberry yogurt.

Both boys had a lot of fun with this little project.
And so did I, after they went to sleep!

Tomte Time

2008-12-14T12:06:00.005-06:00

It's Beginning to Look a Lot Like Christmas

2008-12-14T11:27:00.015-06:00

"Look Mommy, It's a Special Bed!"

2008-12-08T01:20:00.004-06:00

The time I didn't spend putting lights on was spent "fluffing" the branches, and then some. It was pretty involved, but worth it. Cable fell asleep on the couch waiting for the tree to be done. Parker felt he'd be more comfortable here:

Yes, that's the Christmas tree box. The kid slept in there for almost two hours. With the lid closed. I almost forgot to open up the box and get him out to take him to his bed when I was finished with the tree!

O Christmas Tree

2008-12-08T00:09:00.006-06:00

There are few things as beautiful to me as a Christmas tree lit up in the dark.

Especially when it was on sale at Target and you had to have a new tree in a pinch because the one passed down to you from your parents is not just older than you, but so much older than you that the rickety metal stand just couldn't hold all eight parts of its sagging, wobbling self together for one more holiday season.

Don't get me wrong, that tree must've been made right, to have lasted for nearly four decades like it has. And despite its 30-some-year-old "pine wire" branches, it really looked nice all decked out. Can't complain one bit. It was a good old tree.

But, after exhausting all my "c'mon, we can get one more year out of this" options, including strategically placed cuts of cardboard, dish towels and duct tape, it was clear what had to be done. Really, it was having the tree topple over on me this evening while I was attempting to solve the leaning issues. Climbing out from beneath it, taking in the unnerving sight of a Christmas tree lying on its side in our living room... it's like seeing a car upside down. It's just not right. Worrisome, I'd say.

In a house with pets and five-year-old boys, a toppled Christmas tree is always in the back of your mind. Nonetheless, it's a catastrophe I'm not going to set myself up for by knowingly putting up a tree that falls down if the cardboard reinforcements slip out of place.

So I'm 31 (almost 32, whoa) and I've got my own Christmas tree. *It's pre-lit...heehee* and the boys picked colored lights over white, which is fine because my awesome tree topper idea looks best with colors. And since I know my mom has been worrying about this detail since the first paragraph, there were trees ranging from cute little centerpiece ones for $9.99 to majestic 12 ft. wonders for $350.00. Mine is waaaay closer to $9.99 than $350. Getting it on sale saved me twenty bucks, so it was pretty affordable. It's the perfect size (just a teeny bit narrower than the old one) and it looks really good!

Ornaments on the way.

I Can Only Assume This Is Me

2008-12-06T12:20:00.005-06:00

One of Parker's drawings during Sick Week...

When the Shirts Come Off, It's All Over...

2008-12-06T12:17:00.001-06:00

Frogs, Snails & Puppy Dog Tails? THIS Is What My Little Boys Are Made Of

2008-12-05T20:50:00.005-06:00

As we found out last night, not even the power of Rock can cure a stomach bug. Oh, it can trick you into thinking you're cured, but when the dust settles and your air guitar is smashed to smithereens, you can just curl your rockin' self up with that 2.8 L Rubbermaid container you've become such good friends with these past two days, 'cause baby, not even Statue of Liberty glasses can help this look any better.

While I was "out of the office," entertaining (for the second time) the oh-so-definitely guiltiest of the guilty pleasures, Edward Cullen, Cable got sick again. And again. And again. When I got home, he was a limp little noodle on the couch. I got him into my bed and prepared for another long night, only this time, I had to go to work the next morning. Yuck.

Sometime around 1:00 am, it let up, and he was able to stay asleep. I slept that weird kind of sleep where you're still aware of everything going on around you, and every sound and every movement wakes you up long enough to confirm that nothing's happening, or in this case, no one is about to hurl on your bed.

Needless to say, Cable was no longer on the passenger list for the return trip to school. And first thing this morning, Parker canceled his reservation, having figured out sometime during the night that if he stayed behind, he'd be around for screenings #12 and #13 of Speed Racer (see next post).

So I was at school without the boys today. On the bright side, I got there 15 minutes earlier than usual and got a front row parking spot, but, like most everything in the world now -- not as fun when they're not with me. While my class was outside before lunch, their classroom door opened and the kids started running out onto the playground. For a split second, I got excited, because it's one of my favorite times of the day, like a special extra treat. Watching them shoot out that door, see that I'm outside too, and come running full speed to me... (they'll still do that when they're 15, right?) Then I thought out loud, "Oh, wait. They're not here today..."

My drive home was ridiculously quiet, with no stories to hear, no questions to answer, no penis talk to silence. I listened to Flight of the Conchords without editing the naughty parts, but missed their singing along in the backseat. (I may drive somewhere with them tomorrow just for that).

So when I got home, I was overjoyed to see them. Walking in the door, I was puzzled to find no boys in sight. Knowing that they always nap for Keith (*glaring grin*), I asked him in that "Pleeeeease tell me they aren't still sleeping at 5:15 pm" sort of tone, "Where are they?" "They're hiding." Oh thank God. No one is sick.

Cable is much improved since this time 24 hours ago (note to self: ask Daddy what kind of music he played for them). He made my whole week tonight when he said, "Mommy? Will you come sit with me and talk with me?" ("Ok, baby... Do you want a pony too? A four-wheeler? 'Cause, right now, I'd get it for you.")

We sat down and covered up in a blanket and I asked him, "So how was your day?" And his reply, well... my brother and sister-in-law will never hear EITHER of their girls say this:

"Umm, good. We watched Speed Racer, and we ate lunch, and we did a good job napping, and Parker came into the bathroom while I was pooping and he bothered me when I wasn't done, and *giggle giggle* he tooted on Oscar *giggle*, and then I had two cups of Sprite and I didn't throw up. And we had a snack, and we watched Speed Racer again, and then I had to go poop again, but this time it was squirty poop."

"You had squirty poop? Did you have it a lot or just one time?"

"Just one time. Now I'm all done. I have just regular poop now."

Rock, How Did This Happen?

2008-12-04T21:37:00.001-06:00

Cable. Is. Not. Better.

Ugh.

For Those About to Rock, We Salute You

2008-12-04T14:36:00.011-06:00

As of 11:30 am today, I think Cable is better. I don't know if the stomach virus has finally run its course, or if his day-early recovery can be attributed to the sheer power of rock. All I know is they asked to hear Uncle Mike's band, Planes Mistaken for Stars, and this is what happened.

Rudolph With Your Nose So Bright, Won't You Drive My 18-Passenger Van Tonight?

2008-12-04T13:51:00.002-06:00

Conversation on the way home from the Mommy/Parker trip to Target for Cable's 7up:

"Mommy, I think Santa wishes he had a car. I think because he gets tired of flying everywhere, he wishes he had a car so he could drive."

"Hmm. Really? What kind of car would Santa like to have, do you think?"

(Van crosses intersection in front of us)

"A VAN. A big VAN."

"Well, yeah, I guess he would need to have something with plenty of storage..."

"He could park it on the edge of the grass by the street and then get out and walk to the houses and climb up on the roofs and go down the chimneys and land on something quiet, and find his milk and cookies. And then when he's done eating his milk and cookies, then he can put all the presents under the Christmas tree and go back up the chimney and then back to his van for more presents! And then he drives to someone else's house. And his van would be red and white, so it would MATCH HIS CLOTHES!"

This Our Town Of Halloween

2008-12-04T13:47:00.004-06:00

Don't know if it's like this for anyone else... I'm inclined to say no, from the countless pictures I see of babies and toddlers dressed up in costumes that they probably didn't choose and being carted around in strollers and wagons as little trick-or-treat spectators. But yeah, Cable and Parker's first true Halloween was, um, *ahem* last year.

"Wh-wh-whaaaat?!?" you say. I know.

I just can't go crazy with holidays that my kids don't understand (exception: Christmas). When they don't really know what they're missing, you don't really lose sleep over depriving them. And if you want to know the truth, it's mostly because Parent/Teacher conferences have been scheduled on Halloween for the last few years. It falls after the end of the first quarter, and it means kids have no school on Halloween, which means teachers aren't battling the Halloween Crazies all day with kids who are only at school because it's something to kill time until they can do what really matters, Trick-or-Treat. The biggest drawback is, if you're a teacher who also happens to be a parent, the past two weeks' worth of waking hours have been spent toiling away on progress reports, not getting ready for Halloween. Then you don't get home til 5:30 after almost nine straight hours of talking to parents, which (incase you're not a teacher) is waaaaay more exhausting than keeping all of their children in line and entertained for the same stretch of time. I'm just saying.

I should not leave out that, while I'm doing conferences all day, Cable and Parker spend their day off with Miss Michelle. When they were three, as she is an actual living, breathing angel on this earth, she hooked them up with some of the old costumes she had stashed away in a closet (I think there was a cow? a lamb? a fireman?) and they went to her friend's house across the street a couple times, and from the end of Michelle's driveway up to her front door, over and over, on repeat, mastering the trick-or-treat skill. We refer to this as the Great Halloween Trial Run of '06.

So like I said, last year they got to have their first real Halloween. They picked out their costumes (Parker: Black Spiderman, Cable: Wolverine) and we drove around to various friends' homes to trick-or-treat. When we made it out to Miss Michelle's and Dr. Dave's that year, she and Piper spontaneously came out with us and we walked around their block. Being in their beautiful neighborhood, Riverwood, trick-or-treating with them was an unexpected luxury, and it was just right. A great "first" Halloween.

This year, I was determined to give them the "real" Halloween experience, because They're Five Now and it was time. They chose to re-run the previous year's costumes (YE$!!!) and we went to a few people's houses around town first (including Miss Michelle's, where, thanks to her overflowing tubs of candy, they acquired 70% of their total loot for the night). Then we came back home. I really wanted them to have the experience of walking around their own neighborhood, going up to houses that are part of their turf. Sherwood Forest, while no Riverwood by any stretch of the imagination, is a pretty cool little pocket of east Memphis where you might least expect it. With its winding, hilly streets (named after Robinhood characters, naturally) and huge trees, and the little cottage-like brick houses along the way, I find it rather charming, very comfortable. Perfect for trotting along in the leaves toting a pumpkin bucket on Halloween night.

We put Oscar on his leash and walked around our surrounding streets, stopping at the houses who a) clearly had children living in them or b) had young-at-heart older persons living in them or c) had trash so appealing Oscar couldn't resist stopping to investigate. And can I just say that there were not many trick-or-treat-able houses. And it wasn't just Sherwood Forest. I heard several people comment that they'd had surprisingly few trick-or-treaters this year. I'm mentally composing a separate post on Halloween as an Endangered Holiday, but I'll leave it at that for now.

Lest we forget which side of the tracks we're on, our last stop completed the evening as we came upon a big old Cadillac parked on the side of the road, bass booming, with two pimp-esque/gangsta gentlemen leaning up against the side, smoking cigars, and laughing. I felt the slightest cautionary twinge, for about two seconds until, spotting us coming down the street, the first guy called out, "Hey theah, Spideh-main! Yo, Wolvuhrine! Wazzzup?!? I could tell right away these were kid-friendly thugs, the best kind. He continued, "Awright, awright... look atcha! Happeh Halloween, theah, boyeeez! C'meeah... lemme give you this heeah, c'mone. Dat's a dollah fo ya, Spideh-main... you too, Wolvuhrine, theah you go, a dollah fo ya. Happeh Halloween! Dat's right. You twos be good nah, awright. Happeh Halloween!" What can I say, I love this town.

Those guys were super nice, and you can bet those dollahs were the coolest thing ever. I had to refrain from speculating on what kinds of larger bills were in that serious ROLL of cash long enough for a "What do you say, guys?" and their delighted, in unison "Thank You!" and we bid farewell to our bling-blinging, caddy driving, cigar smoking, large sums of cash-toting new friends. Cable and Parker hopped all the way back up the street to our house, formulating a spending plan for the $2.00 at Target. "Hot Wheels" and "lots of CANDEEEE" sounded like sure contenders. (More like "a Hot Wheel and a piece of candy, but what they didn't know about the economy wouldn't hurt them now).

We got home and the boys took off their masks so as to better see the dollah, and -- oh yeah -- the candy inside their pumpkin buckets. I got a laugh out of watching their Montessori sense of order play out on Halloween, as they lined up their candy in rows, sorted into types, and counted them first by ones, then by tens. I took out the things they can't have, since, while we love Dr. Mike and his fantastic pediatric dentistry, we don't want to see him again til late next year. And then it was time for the trading.

I told them of a faraway place (Morton), in a time long, long ago (1983), when every house in the entire town had their lights on for trick-or-treaters, as if participation was mandatory under your rights and privileges as a Village of Morton citizen. Uncle Ted would come back with a pillow case full of candy, sometimes TWO, and my pumpkin bucket would be overflowing, so heavy with candy that I would have to carry it from under the bottom, since the little black plastic string handle had already popped out of one side. And once our respective piles were spread out on the living room floor, tallied, and inventoried, the trading could begin.

"Ok. I'll give you two M&M's for that Reese's peanut butter cup."
"Mmm. Two M&M's and a Three Musketeers."
"Deal."
"Ok. I'll give you three Whatch-a-Macallits for all of your Skittles."
"Deal."
"Ok. What about these Starbursts? I'll give you all of my oranges, lemons and strawberries for all of your cherries."
"No way. Cherry is the best one."
"Fine."
"I'll give you half of my cherries if you throw in all your Twizzlers."
"Ummmm..."
"You don't even LIKE Twizzlers!"
"Alright. Here."
"Oh my God. Are those all quarters??? I'll give you whatever you want for all your quarters."
"Ok. I want the rest of your cherry Starbursts and all your Milk Duds. AND all your Smarties."
"Here you go."

Yep, it was a good Halloween this year. Cable and Parker gave trading a go, and made a few important deals of their own. They picked one more thing to eat, they begrudgingly brushed their teeth, and we settled down on the couch to watch The Nightmare Before Christmas until they fell asleep, in their costumes of course.

Jack-O-Lantern

2008-12-04T13:23:00.008-06:00

This was the first time I'd carved a pumpkin. Ever. This was the first time I'd even been around a pumpkin being carved since... Mississippi street, I guess. Ha!

Pumpkin Kings

2008-12-04T13:08:00.006-06:00

As part of Project Real Halloween, we set out to have our first jack-o-lantern this year. We went to a nice pumpkin patch at a church we drive past on our way home from school, where all of the proceeds went to their youth group, and several of the kids were working the sale. I got some great kids with pumpkins pictures. Enjoy!

Pediatric Dentistry is the SH**

2008-12-03T18:40:00.006-06:00

If I could go back and change three things about my childhood, I know what two of them would be. I'd go to Montessori school (but only if I could still have my Mom be my kindergarten teacher), and I'd speed up the advances made in the field of dentistry so I could enjoy the delights of a pediatric dentist.

Parker had his first dentist visit last year. That was the day I stopped disliking them -- those guys wielding the whirring metal tool of terror. I was so totally relieved, grateful and impressed with the way my son was treated, I was sad when we had to leave. It was amazing.

So when Cable had his first visit in October, I was prepared with my camera. This time I wanted to capture the wonder so I when we got home, I'd have proof that I hadn't dreamed it.

I've compiled a list of smart and thoughtful touches these genius folks have added to make going to the dentist something Cable and Parker ASK TO DO.

1. CARS (aka "Lightning McQueen") playing in the waiting room. The play area with toys, trucks, dinosaurs, dolls and books.

2. The first-visit tour of the whole practice.

3. The dry-erase board hung at child's level in the exam room with tons of markers and squeegie erasers for drawing while you wait for the dentist (ours is Dr. Mike).

4. The sunglasses you get to put on when Dr. Mike pulls over the bright light that shines down on your head.

5. The silly names for everything -- Tooth Blower, Squirter, Paintbrush, Tooth Pillow, Sugar Bugs, etc.

6. The nitrous oxide breathed in through a little nose thing to help them relax. "What do you want to smell today?" Chocolate, cotton candy, mint chocolate chip, strawberry, vanilla, orange.

7. The way the assistant passes the needle for the novocaine shot under their line of vision so they don't see it.

8. The prize table!!! When they're all done, they can choose from an array of kid crap (plastic eyeballs, bugs, pencils, super balls, rings, wristbands, toothbrushes, yo-yo's, slime, etc.) as a reward for their bravery.

9. On the way out, one of the office ladies takes their picture, which is on their file and printed on all of their paperwork.

10. Finally, you get to write your name on a special piece of paper and put it into a big jar for a monthly drawing. They draw one boy and one girl from each age group, and the winners get to choose from the shelf of "big prizes" like action figures, Barbies, movies, games, stuffed animals, etc.

Here's a photo of Cable's visit in progress.
He's wearing the sunglasses and smelling minty chocolate chip.

Here's Cable after.

Nice work, Dr. Mike!

Vamp teeth from the prize table.

Fifth Annual Cable & Parker Birthday Blowout

2008-12-03T17:42:00.017-06:00

They picked Red Robin for a birthday lunch
(they know they get balloons there).

They got the red carpet of kid birthdays,
including the (free!) surprise sundaes brought out by a band of singing servers.

Here's Parker doing I'm-Five-Now-Chin-Ups on the big kids' playground at school that Saturday night. We were there for the school potluck. Miss Betts said we should have told them it was their birthday party. "Look at all these PEOPLE who came to your party, boys!!!"

Playing in Overton Park.
First success with monkey bars (cause they're five now)!

Because when you turn five, you need a pinata.
And when your band writes a song called "Man Who Pets Wolves,"
the pinata needs to be a guitar.

Happy Birthday Cable & Parker

2008-12-03T16:28:00.014-06:00

October 3rd was the boys' fifth birthday. Last year, and I think the year before, I took the day off to get a couple last-minute gifts, wrap everything up, decorate the house, and then headed out to school for their classroom celebration (the Montessori birthday circle). Then when we returned home, the boys were greeted with balloons, streamers, the cake and party table all set up, and their gifts divided into the Parker stack, and the Cable stack, and the Shared stack.

Not this year... Random factors (and the cautious attitude about holding onto my sick days) conspired to make this birthday much more harried, and I found myself frantic on the evening of, running to Party City for balloons and anything that could help their cake pass for a Batman cake. When I got home, I still had to wrap their gifts. That mixture of emotions -- stress, worry, disappointment, guilt, not to mention that silent, maternal mini-breakdown as you try to come to grips with the last five years passing you by... well, at least when my Mom says her apple pie wasn't one of her best, she's fibbing. This birthday was, for real, not one of my best.

That said, yeah, it turned out fine... Once the show was on the road at like 8:00 pm, Cable and Parker tore into a great birthday. They proudly helped Daddy decorate the living room with balloons and Batman streamers while I wrapped the presents. They got great gifts, loved their cake (chocolate with cream cheese frosting, from Keith's mom, Grandma Anna the Cake Maker) and had lots of fun assembling their Bat Cave with Daddy, playing together, and reading new books for bedtime. And because it was on a Friday, their birthday was upgraded to birthday weekend.

Five years, though. Still getting my Mommy head around that.

Let the Updates Begin

2008-12-03T16:19:00.002-06:00

In random order, October's and November's memorable moments.

Borrowed Time

2008-12-03T14:43:00.002-06:00

In the wise words of Uncle Ted... when peanuts are sick, make peanut butter.

Or catch up on your abandoned blog.

YES WE CAN

2008-11-05T02:27:00.005-06:00

Next to the night I met Cable and Parker face-to-face, this is the greatest night of my entire life.

Listen. Hear that? That's the world saying "Nice to have you back, America."

Before I turn in for the night, the boys and I are going to enjoy a 2 am dance in the front yard.

OBAMA '08

OBAMA '08! (It's My Blog)

2008-10-28T21:50:00.003-05:00

As of 5:00 this evening, he's one actual vote and two little spectator votes closer to victory.

On another day, I might have actually shed some tears for such a triumph as this, especially with the boys there. But on this day, I had to remind myself to walk, and not dance, up to that machine, and when I got the first screen up and saw his name right there on top, all I could do was grin as I looked back over my shoulder at two exceptionally well-behaved gentlemen, who had opted to watch from the sidelines (so they could keep coloring). I had to suppress a tiny "Wooo-Hooo!" when I touched "Cast Ballot." I would be such a lousy poker player.

The key to surviving the next six days will be keeping busy. The excitement, anxiety, and anticipation I feel reminds me of those last couple weeks waiting for Cable and Parker to be born.

This is SUCH a big deal.

That's One for the Books

2008-10-27T22:29:00.006-05:00

I tried to vote early today.

Let me say that again. I tried to vote early today. The implied failure is not due to long waits, malfunctioning voting machines, or other voter nightmares. No... my difficulty was -- no two ways about it -- another day of life with the Wonder Twins.

Perhaps you're wondering, "Why on earth would you take Cable and Parker with you to vote?" There are two answers to that question, so it must be your lucky day, 'cause I know it ain't mine.

1) With estimated wait times of 2-3 hours at the polls, I could not have left the boys in Late Day and returned to pick them up in time. And, just to review, I fly this plane solo.

2) Silly to regular, "normal" people, but a source of great pride for me, is the fact that Cable and Parker have developed a genuine enthusiasm for this election (for Barack Obama, specifically). While I know five-year-old boys are not naturally drawn to politics, making their spirit almost entirely the result of my influence, their excitement is rather endearing.

In five-year-old terms, they have learned about democracy, elections, voting, who gets to vote, why you must vote, as well as the defining qualities of Republicans vs. Democrats, and their respective candidates. They have learned about running mates, legitimate reasons for choosing a running mate, and campaign trails. They have visited our local Obama headquarters (three times), and called out their hoorays when our long-awaited Obama sign went up in the yard.

On our way to and from school, they report on everyone else's campaign signage from the back seat. It goes something like this:

Parker: "Oooh! Mommy! Obama-Biden sign! Obama-Biden!"

Cable: "Where? Where!?!"

Parker: *pointing vigorously* "Right THERE!!!"

Cable: "Oh, I see it! I see it!"

. . . four houses pass . . .

Cable: *shaking his head* "Aww... McCain-Palin."

Parker: "There's another McCain-Palin..."

Cable: "Oh! Look! It's a huge Obama sign! Whoa! That's ginormous!!!"

Parker: "Oh, MAN! That is huge, right, Cable?"

. . . more houses . . .

Parker: "Oh no, there's another McCain-Palin."

Cable: Wait! Obama-Biden! Obama-Biden! Over there!"

...And that's pretty much our entire commute, during which I wonder to myself, "Have I created two monsters?"

Even when someone gives them a hard time, for example, "Ok, boys... When you go to vote, make sure you mark the box that says 'John McCain,' right?" And they answer, "Ohhhh No! Not John McCain and Sarah Palin. We're voting for Barack Obama, sir!"

So, that said, Cable and Parker have invested a little bit of themselves in this thing, too. Which is why I really wanted them by my side to claim their own little piece of history in the making when I cast that ballot. I want them to be able to say "When I was five, Barack Obama became president. And I was there and I helped vote for him!"

After today, however...

We had been in line for about an hour, 4-5:00 pm, when they (and by "they," I mean Cable, followed half as convincingly by Parker) decidedly turned on me. And there was at least another hour to go.

Up until this moment, I had managed to hold my own, thanks to the novelty of sitting on the floor, sitting under folding tables, and looking at random points of interest in the vestibule of a church, which both boys found to be adequately fun and just mischievous enough to feel like they were pushing the envelope, but not really going to get in trouble. (Several people in our part of the line had even commented on their good behavior).

When that started to deteriorate, I moved on to Plan B, Mommy's Notebooks and Pens From Inside Her Purse, which any other day of the week would be off-limits. You can imagine my inner panic when I could only find one pen... 'Oh, dear God in Heaven, this is Your turf. Surely You can produce a single pen or just any writing utensil so we can help Barack Obama become the next President today and I don't have to come back... please-please-pleeeeease."

Or not.

I was just about to ask the nice ladies in front of us if either of them had a pen we could borrow, when Cable launched his attack.

In rare form, my second-born (about to be first-dragged-to-the-car-in-public) son, who had been receiving increasingly frequent and stern reminders to stand up/come here/stand by me/be still/use a quieter voice/stop touching that/don't open th-- I said DON'T open that door/quit waving your stuffed dog in the air and bumping people next to us, etc. decided that now would be a good time to try out rolling on the floor, saying "No, no, no, no, no, nah-nah-nah," with no end in sight.

Parker, who really wasn't taking part in it, but is just too smitten with his twin to stand by without reacting, began to giggle, which became a laugh, which became a squealing "CA-BOL! Oh! Hahahahahaha! Ohhhh! CA-BOL!"

This is where I'm pretty sure I heard the word "penis," as in, "I am shooting my PEEE-NIS, PAH-KOH!"

Not even doing my part to put Barack Obama in the White House could have stopped me from yanking that child up off the floor. When he made himself dead weight, I literally let him go and, to the sound of Parker's pleading "No, Mommeeee! We want to VOTE!" just kept walking. They did the smart thing, and followed me out the front doors, where I grabbed Parker's hand, but couldn't get Cable, who, in his oblivious jackass-ing state of mind, ran out into the parking lot as if he was heading out to the Lamplighter playground. Fortunately for the Jackass, many of those voting were of the McCain-Palin persuasion, so the car coming around the corner as he ran out into the lot and sat down on the cement to catch his breath between fits of laughter was, well... you know, barely moving.

Whatever you're thinking is probably accurate here.

Getting into the car was the finale, and I have to just say on the record here, I could not FREAKING BELIEVE that they hadn't stopped yet. I had a hard time buckling their seat belts, not so much out of pure rage, but out of shock that they were still going full steam ahead.

Once they were buckled in (God couldn't send down a pen, but it was a miracle that they stayed in their seats, since unbuckling at inappropriate times occasionally pops up in their repertoire), I got into the car, put the keys in the ignition, took a breath, checked that the windows were all the way up, and proceeded to LET. THEM. HAVE. IT.

Highlights included informing them not only of Senator Obama's disappointment, but also of the rest of their evening's activities, which had just been reduced to sitting on their bed in total silence until I felt certain they would be safe in the same room with me. Dinner was still in question. Partaking would depend on a) the sitting and b) the silence.

We arrived home, they each made a stop in the bathroom so we could nip that excuse in the bud, and Cable was shown to his room, Parker to mine, and both doors were shut with instructions not to open those doors for any reason whatsoever unless there was an emergency involving blood or lack of oxygen. If something was needed, they could knock on the door from the inside, and I'd come to hear their request.

I made dinner with minimal interruptions, just the occasional knock-knock-knock from down the hall.

They did get to eat dinner. Cable went straight back to his room. Parker was permitted to draw at the dining room table. In silence.

When I finished cleaning up the kitchen, they went potty and I brushed their teeth. I read two stories, since that's a guaranteed way to get them in their beds for the night. I put on their sleepy time music (Radiohead lullabyes).

Parker rocked first, and Cable, who doesn't always choose to, did rock tonight.

Both seemed thankful that they would see tomorrow.

So It's Like This

2008-10-21T22:55:00.012-05:00

*Cue justification for excessive absence*

Alright. I work 49 hours a week, not counting travel time (another 4.5 hours), and bring two five year old boys home with me at the end of every day. As I just mentioned to Me a Mom, the three waking hours I have to myself after the boys are asleep are my opportunity to feed my insatiable, all-consuming political obsession via MSNBC, where I devour every news story, TV clip, First Read, and (be still my heart) Keith Olbermann episode. That way, when I talk smack about the Increasingly Desperate and Two Weeks to Go McPalin antics, I'm at least able to base it on legitimate facts reported by professional journalists. That, and because my levels of seratonin and dopamine soar when I see Obama 10 points ahead in the polls.

To state what is now the obvious, I'm not one who believes in being subtle about one's political passions. I am a believer in saying what you think and standing up for it. I'm a believer in email forwards, yard signs, bumper stickers, T-shirts, buttons, campaign donations, high-fives with strangers, tattoos across foreheads, whatever gets you out there -- especially with a person like Barack Obama in the running.

Am I going so far as to take the day off on November 5th, for reasons including but not limited to:

1. On election night, I'm not sleeping until the NBC news team sleeps?
2. I'll be unable to pry this laptop off my legs as it will have melded to my pants from being in constant use for the previous 14 hours?
3. It's quite possible I may be hung over from a) celebrating the most significant political victory in my lifetime,
or b) feebly attempting to numb the pain from stabbing myself in the eyes upon the sight of too much red on the electoral map?
4. Even if I can detach the laptop from my pants, I may be unable to walk due to my legs being sore from dancing in the streets?

ABSOLUTELY.

So it's like that.

Again... lack of posts not equal to lack of material. My camera is full of pictures pertaining to little stories I have to tell you, starting with two sweet boys (who happen to share my good taste in presidential candidates) turning five years old. Until then, take a look at them showing off one of their favorite gifts...

Thank You, Ra-Ra and Previously But Thankfully No Longer Undecided Uncle Ted

Oh! There's My Blog... I've Been Looking For This Thing For WEEKS.

2008-10-01T20:35:00.003-05:00

Hello and greetings from the Land of Boys Who Are Almost Five. That's right, Cable and Parker turn five on the 3rd of October. Once I get through a hectic spot here, more frequent posts should resume... 'Cause this dry spell isn't for lack of material, let me tell you.

Like this evening, when Cable was finishing his second piece of the birthday cake Miss Michelle made for them today (more on that later). He gobbled up the last bite and, with a face full of frosting and cake crumbs, he walked over to me and wiped his mouth on my sleeve. Yeah! On my sleeve.

I cringed with an "Eeeeew! Now I know you didn't just wipe your mouth on my sleeve! Come on, Cable!"

Without missing a beat he said, "Mommy, I wasn't wiping my mouth on you! I was just trying to get a booger off my nose!"

T-Minus 70:11:09

2008-09-08T21:48:00.008-05:00

If all goes according to plan, in approximately that much time, Cable and Parker will set foot on the grounds of their second Pumpkin Festival adventure. Ahhh, the Pumpkin Festival: Just one more of the fabulous wonders of childhood only a small town can offer. In addition to the rides, the treats, the wacky games and silly prizes, it's a celebration of The Pumpkin, since my hometown of Morton, IL is, after all, The Pumpkin Capital of the World. More to come on this, because it is really one of my favorite things of all time, and it's quickly becoming one of the boys' too.

And just in case I forget to point this out later, I marvel at the fact that (excluding the ticket prices), the Pumpkin Festival has not changed -- at ALL -- since I was a kid. They have kept most of the same rides, and they're even set up in the all right places, and I appreciate that kind of consistency.

And in addition to those things, the Pumpkin Festival trip is the means by which I coerce my children into some semblance of self-control for the week leading up to this pilgrimage. It is the carrot I dangle before their sweet, precious noses. It is how I treat myself to three, possibly four consecutive mornings of children dressing themselves without incident, children pleased with the contents of their lunch boxes, children getting into the car having reached a peaceful agreement with regard to who sits behind Mommy on the way to school, and children who can bravely tolerate the slightest twist in a seat belt without a protest.

You know I've been capitalizing on this incentive strong and steady, since this was overheard in our house tonight (Parker to Cable):

"Well that's not the behaviooh of a boy who wants to go to the Pompkin Vestibal, Ca-bol..."

Flower

2008-09-07T10:23:00.003-05:00

I sometimes wish I had a better camera, but then I get a shot like this with no planning whatsoever, which temporarily convinces me that my camera's ok for the time being. This flower is from the butterfly exhibit at the zoo, and this picture is currently on my desktop. Enjoy!

SHING! CHE-KANG!

2008-09-05T21:06:00.007-05:00

When Cable and Parker recap their days for me, the play-by-play is often centered around what happens on the playground, events of which I usually have at least a bystander's knowledge (major perk of your children's class sharing the same playground as your own class). For the boys, this means the report can only be embellished so much when your mother was sitting 5 yards away when it all went down. For me, even though I know how the story's going to go, I'm always entertained by their enthusiasm and their vivid language that only preschool-aged boys can invent.

For example, despite our efforts to suppress the combat brigades that meet up in the back corner of the grassy area, inevitably a battle will go down before teachers can be heard shouting across the playground, "Find a different way to play, or every last one of you can come sit RIGHT HERE!!!"

The past few times Cable and Parker have spoken of these delightful games -- theirs usually involve dinosaurs, pirates, or a mix of both -- I've heard that wonderful boy language (envision a sword fight while you read this):

"Then I SHINGED him, Mommy, and Cable said "Don't you SHING me, Pah-kooh! And then he was a ginormous T-Rex and he CHE-KANGED me! And I said "I don't like it when you CHE-KANG me, Tyrannosaurus Rex! I will SHING you so hard again!"

Now I've spent a lot of time around a lot of kids, having been a teacher for... eight years now. And not once have I ever heard one say this, which confirms my suspicion that Cable and Parker are just slightly off the beaten path.

Awwww

2008-09-04T00:17:00.007-05:00

The Zoo has another newborn giraffe...

Moving Up In the World

2008-09-04T00:11:00.002-05:00

The rationale for this upgrade has many detailed points, from which I'll spare you. The bottom line is Cable and Parker have "TIE SHOES!!!" They broke them in walking through the Zoo.

Mommy's Little Herpetologist

2008-09-03T23:59:00.009-05:00

While looking at animal books, watching Planet Earth, or strolling through the Zoo, Cable has more than one time announced that, when he grows up, he's going to be a "Scientist of Snakes." We spent some extra time in the Herpetarium this past zoo trip, and got these great pictures.

Labor Day Zoo Trip

2008-09-03T23:50:00.006-05:00

All This Over a Plastic Cup of Fruit

2008-08-19T21:01:00.007-05:00

Hopefully the humor won't be lost in the re-telling, because this is a perfect illustration of What Really Matters to Cable, and of his quest for independence, especially from his own identical twin.

As I was packing the boys' lunches this evening, a minor scuffle arose over which type of fruit should go in their lunch. Part of the complication stemmed from the abundance of The Fruit Cups, which is cause for considerable food-related excitement in our house. They're a pre-packaged novelty I didn't used to buy, but have since caved on now that Cable and Parker have demonstrated their remarkable ability to peel back the patented Evil Little Plastic Top ever so slightly, drink the juice out, then hold the cup firmly enough to peel that Evil Little Plastic Top all the way off without splashing the contents out onto the table, the floor, or the nearest adult-size pants. (These things are what teachers' nightmares are made of, I swear to God. Those and the Gogurts. The DAMN GOGURTS, I mean really. REEEEEALLY? Who thought up this travesty? I shake my fist at you).

Sorry - I'll get myself back on the path here.

Because they were on sale at Target, we have an uncommonly abundant supply of fruit cups (three packages - gasp) and in three varieties, no less. These are not to be confused with The Applesauce Cup, for The Applesauce Cup is not considered a "Fruit Cup," and is, in fact, a lesser being. So I don't know what I was thinking when I put applesauce cups in their lunch boxes, knowing there were almost three full packages of superior beings from which to choose this necessary component of the preschooler lunch. When Parker came in and saw my obvious error, he said "No, Mommy! Not applesauce [you fool]! Peaches!" This, of course, drew Cable in from the after-dinner showing of the 80's cartoon version of Transformers and he echoed, "Mommy! I want peaches, I want peaches!" So they each grabbed the Terrible, No-Good Applesauces out of their respective lunch boxes and ran to the fridge to make the exchange. Parker got there first, opened the fridge, put his applesauce on the shelf and proceeded to take both peach cups out of the fridge, ran back to the lunch boxes and put one in his, one in Cable's...

Cable, who is occasionally sensitive about taking his own action on important matters like these, commenced his protest: "NOOO, PAH-KOH... YOU DON'T PICK MY FOOD FOH ME!" And with that, Cable yanked the fruit cup out of his lunch box, did an about-face (this is where I stopped and just watched, holding a knife full of peanut butter in mid-air, thinking 'Nah... he's not gonna...'), and I promise you that boy marched himself back over to the fridge, opened the door, put the fruit cup back on the shelf, PAUSED, and then picked the same one back up, closed the fridge and marched back to his lunch box and put that baby right back in, front and center. The only thing that could have made his point any clearer would've been a swift kick to Parker's shins, but thankfully, we're all growing around here, and he stopped just short of that.

Who says we're not making progress?

...Or That.

2008-08-18T23:39:00.012-05:00

As the last few minutes "prior to departure" were ticking by this morning, on this, our FIRST day of the new school year, I was silently commending myself on my calm and in-control management of my more-reluctant-to-face-the-day child. As this child continued to sit on the couch in his pajamas watching this morning's Curious George episode, I calmly prompted him for the third time to get dressed. "Baby, put your clothes on while you watch George if you want... That's fine. Just put them on."

I had just gotten back to my bedroom to get my earrings and my phone when Cable presented himself in my door, dressed, shoes on, new lunch box in hand, proud and ready for action (as he'd been for the last 20 minutes...) And this was our exchange:

Cable: "Look at me, Mommy! I'm all ready to go!"

Me: "Wow, Cable. You are ready to go. Thank you very much! ...Hey, will you help Mommy and go tell Parker to get dressed so we're not late on the first day of school?"

Cable: "I already did tell him that, Mommy."

Me (whispering): "Ok, well, maybe you could just try one more time and give him a little hug and say, 'C'mon, get dressed, buddy. It's our first day of school!' and help him feel better. But be real sweet to him, ok?"

Cable: "Ok, Mommy."

*trot trot trot*

Cable (finger pointed, shouting): "HEY BUDDY, GET DRESSED!"

:)

First Day of School '08

2008-08-18T23:33:00.002-05:00

Today was our first day of school, new lunch boxes and all. Although they had matching outfits picked out the night before, once we finally got Parker to get dressed, he switched his shirt (as expected). :)

We had a great day.

(Cable on the left, Parker on the right).

Super Hero Identity Crisis

2008-08-16T23:36:00.010-05:00

Parker, or as he's known on the streets, The Incredible-Super-Bat-Spider-Pole-Wielding-Hulk-Man.
Discovered this afternoon, ready to... fight crime?

20/20

2008-08-04T21:54:00.006-05:00

Ahhh, the wonders of little sticks covered in colored wax...

Touchdown, Aisle 12

2008-08-03T00:22:00.003-05:00

The other day, we stopped into Walmart (gasp) because I needed something I couldn't find next door at Target, my preferred source for, you know, everything. We had to visit the sewing section, which -- imagine the luck -- is just across from the sporting goods section. Cable and Parker weren't satisfied with looking at the football gear, of course. They actually had to try it on.

Three of a Kind

2008-08-03T00:03:00.003-05:00

Today the boys' Dad, Keith, was here saving the day, as usual...

While I restored order in my bedroom (a long overdue effort, which will end up being a 2-dayer), he had Cable and Parker cleaning up all their other messes in other parts of the house.

My two favorite sights today were:
1) My bedroom floor, and
2) "We're all TWINS!" which is how Parker described himself, Cable and Keith dressed in their matching camouflage shorts and Spiderman shirts.

Can you say, "Like Father, Like Sons?" :)

May I Recommend?

2008-08-02T22:51:00.004-05:00

Going to the movies is just about my favorite way to drop $40.00 with the boys. At that price, of course, we have to be selective on what we'll see. For instance, Kung Fu Panda? SOOO not getting my money. Space Chimps? Same to ya. That's what the Blockbuster Dollar Rental Coupon is for -- maybe. But, Bee Movie? Absolutely. Saw it three times, actually (but one of those was Grandma's treat). Journey to the Center of the Earth? TOTALLY.

Today we saw that for the second time. Best movie of the summer (besides Dark Knight, of course). It's AWESOME. And, it's 3-D, therefore making it TOTALLY AWESOME. This is one of very few movies where I can say every part is riveting... you can't take your eyes off it! The story is great, and the adventure is non-STOP. And it's a theater movie all the way. Not just for the 3-D, but because it's a "big" story. You HAVE to see it! The part where the kid crosses the magnetic field... WHOA.

I feel a Mastercard commercial coming on...

Tickets to Journey to the Center of the Earth matinee for the second time? $35.00

Boxed candy (bought at Target on the way, to save money, and snuck into the theater in Mommy's purse and Daddy's pockets?) $4.50

Seeing your sweet baby boys wearing 3-D glasses at the movies? Priceless.

Please note this picture was taken after the movie was over... And if you were among the six people who saw us during the unannounced trip to IL, I'll bet you can guess which one is Parker. :)

In Differences in Disposition news, Cable maintains his "Cool Like Fonzie" easy-going nature, while Parker digs his hole a little deeper in the land of frequent meltdowns. I just hope he doesn't decide to set up permanent residence there. This one was over putting his glasses on for a picture. "I don't want to put my glasses back on... Waaaaaaaaaaa..." This is such a GREAT picture, don't you think? haha!

You Are My Sunshine...

2008-07-30T21:56:00.002-05:00

This is one of my favorite pictures from this summer's visit to Grandma's, taken on Harrison St. just around the corner from the construction crew we watched.

Fill'er Up!

2008-07-30T18:48:00.002-05:00

On a quest for my own self-preservation, we made an unscheduled trip to IL last week to visit Grandma and Papa. There are roughly 150 photos from that visit, all capturing perfect and wonderful moments that the boys enjoyed during their stay, so I'll be posting those here for a while...

Here are Cable and Parker playing with Uncle Ted's Gas Station. Carbon dated at approximately 32 years of age, this relic was still a hit with these little boys.

New Look, Same Mess in My Living Room

2008-07-30T17:57:00.006-05:00

Growing up, I used to rearrange my room all the time. I get antsy, I get bored, I need a fresh perspective... it's basically yet another facet of the "grass is always greener" complex that plagues me... And because rearranging my actual bedroom, or any room in this house for that matter, is completely out of the question since such a project would first require a massive clearing of laundry and other random wall-to-wall kid mess, The Blog has been rearranged, since changing the template is free and exciting. God knows I love a cheap thrill (especially when it doesn't require picking up all this CRAP that I did not PUT HERE).

And while we're at it, do I just not know about the secret stash of cool templates, or is the cool template guy at Blogger still working on them? I mean, honestly, there's like one clean and simple layout that's aesthetically pleasing, and one isn't really able to use it without treading even further into the territory of copying one's rocking sister-in-law.

Seriously.

Because This One's Worth Another Laugh

2008-07-18T13:10:00.003-05:00

While looking for those mischief pictures in the previous post, I came across this treasure right here. Some of you may have already seen this, some of you might have been there when it was taken on the playground at school. But like I said, it's worth another laugh.

This is my child.

Cable, indeed.

Can't Believe This Didn't Happen Sooner

2008-07-18T12:02:00.013-05:00

One day back in February, when the boys were having a hard time getting dressed and out the door for school, I capitalized on something they really wanted and made it an incentive for getting dressed peacefully and on time. It was SPIKEY HAIR.

I secretly purchased a small bottle of hair gel (what they don't know we have, they won't look for and paint the house with), and kept it on the top shelf of the bathroom closet behind The Stuff No One Uses, and waited for the day when they would earn that spikey hair. The day came, the hair was spiked, the faces were smiling on the way out the door. We even had time to take a picture before leaving, and I thought I still had it on my computer... but I can't find it. Let me check somewhere else. Hold please...

(That's Parker on the left, Cable and sweet baby Osky, our Schnauzer/Poodle mix named Oscar who is the best dog in the WORLD).

There weren't as many Spikey Hair Days as I had hoped there would be, but once in a while, Cable and Parker will point out their exceptional behavior and suggest that it be a Spikey Hair Day. And usually I will agree.

For those who don't already know, I am convinced that I was given two of the most mischievous boys currently on the planet. We've had incidents involving sharpies and furniture, a dozen eggs and the one carpeted room in the house, and let's not forget the day they were "playing so nicely" in their bedroom, but then it got quiet enough to cause concern, and I went in to find they had loaded every item they could lift -- toys, books, clothes, hangers, small furniture -- onto Cable's bed. "We made a dump truck!!!" they shouted. (Can't find that picture, unfortunately).

Anyway, back to the hair gel. I'd been expecting this, so I wasn't all that surprised when I found Cable and Parker in the bathroom this morning like this:

Cable let Parker squeeze about 1/4 a bottle onto his head, some of which slipped off and plopped onto the bathroom floor, of course), and then wondered why his hair wouldn't stand up. Time for the "Less is More" (especially when it comes to styling products) talk. I'll go get the boys.

Sleepless Nights, a Yard Sale, Some Blueberries, and a Bug

2008-07-15T23:12:00.020-05:00

Yes, we're still alive.

And yes, I do have good reasons for not posting in over ten days. (Please refer to title). Let's just start at the beginning, shall we? (And yes, it's going to be long).

A couple weeks ago, a lady from our neighborhood put an open invitation on everyone's doors to participate in a neighborhood yard sale. As one who has never attempted such a thing, and as one whose home is really nothing more than a poorly packed 1200 sq. ft. storage container for the massive stockpile of clothing, toys and miscellaneous boy equipment that we've managed to acquire over the past 4 1/2 years, well, I heard myself saying, "Now is as good a time as any." So I rsvp'd to the yard sale invitation. We were in.

Allow me to illustrate for you my 31-year-long attempt at perfecting a master skill set of procrastination, which is about to come into play. I will offer examples like my junior (?) year of high school, when I took American Studies, an honors class combining American History with English Lit, and requiring students to present a "thematic" each Friday (an artistic or otherwise creative effort that illustrated the topic of the accompanying 3-5 page paper). I would spend Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday deciding on a topic, and then would always, and I mean always wait until Thursday night to start the paper and the project. That's right, the tried-and-true all-nighter, invariably with the 4 a.m. finale stint in my parents' garage attempting calligraphy and dipping paper into tea then burning off the edges to make the document look hundreds of years old and straight out the Smithsonian. You'd think a year of that kind of nonsense (all A's on those thematics, by the way), along with four years of college nonsense (far from all A's) would force me to re-examine my time management philosophies. If not that, then maybe the time I moved from IL to Memphis, and waited until the day before I left town to start packing up my apartment, then drove eight hours south to my new apartment on no sleep. True story.

As it turns out, the only thing that has brought even the slightest improvement to that area is Cable and Parker. The birth of twins pretty plainly requires you to admit that you may not even still be standing the night before whatever it is has to be done, so you better just freakin get it done.

I digress. Filled with what I can only assume was some rare form of community spirit, I responded to a second invitation to help with the execution of the neighborhood sale, and volunteered to help out with the signs. I took a look at the leader's prototype, obtained the necessary supplies, and was all set to work (on schedule! I made a schedule and I was still on it!) when it happened.

As usual, when I got home from work last Tuesday, I had bumped my AC back down a couple degrees to get the house more comfortable. My AC isn't the most efficient system in the world even when functioning, but it at least cools certain areas off enough to be pleasant, so when I the house didn't feel any cooler after an hour, I took a look at the thermostat and realized the temperature inside our house had actually risen several degrees. (And not two minutes after this discovery, the lead story on the five o'clock news was something like "Memphis Summer Finally Hits"). It was, in fact, according to Joe Birch, the hottest day of the year so far, so OF COURSE my air conditioner decided to throw in the towel.

Given the current state of home improvement affairs at this address, I staved off a mental breakdown by telling myself there was no need to panic, the filter just needed to be changed, so after calling in the supports (Keith), I escaped to the blissfully air conditioned Target where I bought a new filter and a new fan for good measure, and wished I had a longer shopping list. I returned to the inferno and sent Keith up to the attic to change out the filter with a "Hey, while you're up there... go ahead and bring down all that baby stuff that I keep insisting be saved. I'm going to sell it."

Long story slightly shortened,

1. The new filter didn't help at all.
2. I eventually ended up in the attic myself to look through bins of baby clothes, toys, and other random stuff. (Now there's a way to make your 85 degree house feel more comfortable -- spend half an hour in the ATTIC and come back down).
3. I saved those baby clothes for a reason: Because even though I always feel like my first two years of motherhood are a total blur, I remember dressing Cable and Parker in those clothes. I can remember actual days when they wore these, or those. I can still see them in those outfits like it was yesterday, and I just can't send that walking down the street for a dollar. Needless to say, I came down with several things to sell, but no baby clothes.

I slept very little Tuesday night, called a highly recommended AC company the next morning, didn't sleep at ALL Wednesday night, and then on Thursday afternoon the AC guy saved us and only had to clean my outside unit to make us the residents of the most comfortably, consistently cooled home on the block! (God BLESS air conditioning and AJ Refrigeration!) I was so pleased with the new temperature in my house that I worked on the signs for my 4 designated intersections for the rest of the night.

Fast forward to Friday evening. On the way home from work, Michelle called. (Explaining who Michelle is would be a whole separate post; really, she deserves her own blog. But for now just know that "Miss Michelle," as the boys call her, and her husband, "Dr. Dave," are the wonderful people who care for Cable and Parker when I can't). So Michelle called and asked if the boys would be able to come over to swim on Saturday. After a brief rundown explaining the plans for the yard sale, Michelle (yard sale with children veteran, apparently) said "How about you bring them over tonight and they can spend the night and we'll keep them until you're done with the sale."

This is where I tell you that, to the best of my recollection, there have been three occasions in 4 1/2 years that I have spent the night in my house without Cable and Parker. They are, in order:

1. The night before Keith and I moved to our last apartment, and one of my friends from work kept the boys (10 mos.) overnight so we could get moved.
2. The night before my A.M. flight to New York in Feb. 2007 when Michelle and Dave were keeping the boys during my trip.
3. The night before my A.M. flight to Boston in July 2007 when... same as above. :)

I may be forgetting something, but I really think this is it. So when Michelle offered an overnight stay for the boys so I could prepare for a yard sale and then to keep them for the day so I could conduct a yard sale sans monsters, I had to say yes. I mean, who would say no to THAT?

So we arrived home, I packed a few necessities, got the boys back in the car, and headed back east to hand them over.

Since the list thing is working for us:
1. The yard sale was fine. Wouldn't "order it" again, but it was ok...
2. Yes, Keith helped. Because I had PROCRASTINATED (see, there it is) gathering my items to sell, getting ready would've been much more difficult without him.
3. Didn't make a ton of money, but minus the cost of the signs, made a little. I've decided that the positive spin on the whole experience is that I did something I've never done before, I took on a pretty big project with lots of steps and completed it, and I got rid of a bunch of stuff we didn't really need.
4. The best part was when a little Mexican boy about six years old came up with his mom and baby sister, and saw a wooden parking deck toy that had been handed down to us. We'd been selling toys so well that we got a second batch of stuff down from the attic, and I'd priced it at just $1.00. It was a steal. The boy saw it from the street and made a bee-line for it, and after going back and forth with his mother en Espanol, she gave me the dollar and, man, he picked that thing up and just had the biggest grin on his face walking down the driveway... it was great.
5. Under the "What Was I Thinking???" category, I was nuts to think Cable and Parker would've been ok here at home with us during that yard sale. It was super hot, pretty boring, and one of us would have been in and out of the house with them all... day... long. Thank goodness for Michelle!

The boys thoroughly enjoyed their stay in Miss Michelle Land. (It is, after all, the closest thing they'll know to Disneyland for a long time). They hunted for tiny spiders in the corners of the house and then Michelle disposed of them, they swam (Parker conquered last summer's fear and did his first jump off the diving board, then did about 99 more, according to Michelle's best estimate), and on Saturday morning they went to a blueberry farm in Mississippi (where Dr. Dave's truck drove on the grass!) and picked blueberries. Bags and bags of blueberries. When I picked the boys up Saturday evening, she gave us a big bag to take home. We're still eating blueberries by the handful here. And these aren't store-blah blueberries, these are the way they're supposed to taste blueberries.

When we arrived home, the boys had to make sense of completely missing the yard sale that they'd been hearing about for two weeks. And then they discovered a long-lost treasure now peeking out from behind their downsized 3T clothing: The Bug Costumes.

A while back, my parents found two really nice bug costumes for a bargain price on vacation, and not even my Dad could pass up the prospect of seeing his grandsons decked out in these. Parker, for your viewing pleasure:

Yesterday I awoke to two of these creatures standing next to my bed. Here's hoping they'll want to be bugs for Halloween this year...

And so that's a run down of the last ten days' major events. I know it was a lot, so thanks for sticking with me to the end. Just be glad I didn't get into the parts about blueberries on the floor... or in the laundry... or stuck to the side of the couch. Yep.

Rain, Rain...

2008-07-05T20:22:00.007-05:00

Cable and Parker love rain. They might get that from me, because I love rain, too. But then again, they love rain for completely different reasons than I do. I love a rainy day because it's beautiful and peaceful, plus it washes my car for free and my hair usually looks pretty good. The boys, on the other hand, love rain because they know rain equals puddles and mud, two of their favorite things.

They also know that if there's no lightning and Mommy's having the kind of day where an extra boy bath won't do her in, I'll let them go out in the rain and splash around to their hearts' content. As many friends and family have already heard, often the rain will be so heavy that the little ditch running along the front edge of our yard will fill with water -- nasty, muddy, grass-and-leaf-filled, wonderful boy-water. On rare occasions, they've been known to strip down to their undies for all the neighborhood to enjoy, and plunge right in. (Even rarer are the times I've discovered this and chuckled about the so-called wonder of boys, as opposed to having a freakin' FIT out there for all the neighborhood to enjoy).

This morning we had a nice rain and, of course, even though I was still in my pajamas, we went outside to play in it. Highlights included their "great idea!" to throw leaves into the puddles like they throw pennies into fountains at the zoo or the movie theater... the leaves being their wishes. Parker wished to go to New York (just let me get my purse!) and get a Venom costume for Halloween; Cable wished that he and Parker were still babies, and they could drink with bottles again. (A couple weeks ago, we watched some home movies of them as babies... sniff sniff).

It's the little things... that's for sure.

Do We Sing "Happy Birthday, America?"

2008-07-04T22:45:00.021-05:00

This is the question Parker asked tonight while we were waiting for fireworks to start. Apparently this afternoon's discussion over whether it was Memphis' birthday, or America's birthday (then when is Memphis' birthday, if not today, and wait, wait... does Memphis even have a birthday?) hadn't answered all his questions. So I said "Sure, buddy, if you want to sing Happy Birthday to America, I suppose you can."

I'd like to say we joined together in song to honor our country right there in the parking lot of Germantown Village Square shopping center, but I'm nothing if not honest. The truth is that right then they remembered their Transformer cars from a recent Happy Meal in the back seat, and as they jumped back into the car to get them, the fleeting moment of young patriotism was gone.

I'm not one of those "decorate the house" kind of holiday moms (exception: Christmas). Sometimes I fancy myself being that kind of holiday mom, and I think in a different world, I would be. You know, the kind of world where I don't have a 50 hour/week job and there was a very handsome, Sharon-adoring man who made all the money we needed, and the only finance-related thought passing through my sweet little professionally highlighted head would be what to spend that money on this month. We'd live in a house I'd enjoy living in, it would be clean, and fun to go all Martha Stewart on. I can see why people do that sort of thing. It's very... grounding. It says, "I have not only the time, but also the desire to hang my American flag wreath (bought with my husband's hard-earned money) on my front door (also bought with my husband's hard earned money), put flags in patriotic-themed centerpieces, and make beautiful-as-they-are-tasty desserts with seasonal berries arranged in the form of the stars and stripes to take to the neighborhood Fourth of July picnic. Yep, I can see the appeal of that. I can see it, but as of right now, that is not how we roll.

No, Cable and Parker's Fourth of July went more like this.

In an unfortunate routine of waking up with the sun due to my 7-3 summer camp shift last week, Cable arrived in my room at 5:50 am. That's FIVE fifty. I unpleasantly informed Cable that it was not time to get up, to turn the damn light off and go back to bed. Cable did go back to his bed just long enough for me to feel a half-conscious sense of relief, then turned their bedroom light on and proceeded to wake his sleeping brother. Still reeling from the previous day's observation that they, my twins who had speech therapy in our home at 2 years old because they weren't doing much talking, never, ever stop talking, I, again, not-real-pleasantly mandated a minimum of one more hour of peace and quiet, and that these boys would be permitted to be awake, on Parker's bed, with the lights off, provided that no sounds be heard from that room. (Right...)

Fast forward to a time not to be disclosed, when I finally dragged myself out bed. It was, after all, a holiday. And while there were no plans for barbeques or American flag desserts, I felt somewhat inspired to spontaneously put together some Fourth of July fun for the boys. And this fun involved fireworks on the driveway, like my brother and his friends did (to my kid sisterly delight) when we lived on Mississippi street.

As our good City council persons banned the sale of fireworks sometime in the last couple years, Memphians now must leave the city limits to purchase their holiday explosives. I knew roughly where to go, but that dash of uncertainty gave the whole trip the slightest taste of adventure, which pleased me. Having never bought fireworks here before (gasp!), I admitted to the boys that for all I knew, those places might be closed on the actual holiday, but we were going to give it a shot.

It should be noted here that on the way, we passed two GIANT billboards on 40 East with huge neon block letters announcing the store's exact location and the motivational "Buy 1 Get 4 Free!" -- billboards I have been driving past twice a day for weeks without noticing them. I was rolling my eyes at myself when I was interrupted by our triumphant arrival at Fireworks City, which was indeed open, and apparently the only fireworks-peddling establishment in all of Shelby County. And there we were, just three of about seven hundred and eighty-nine people who decided, "Hey y'all! It's the Fourth of Joooo-LY! Let's git us some FAHwurks!"

There were so many cars at Fireworks City on Canada Road, exit 20, that cars were lined up for a place to park in the neighboring field and there were guys with air-traffic control wands directing the process . We actually didn't have to wait very long, and the couple minutes were well worth it when Cable and Parker could hardly contain themselves upon realizing that "WHOA!!! We're driving on GRASS!!! Mommeeee!!! We didn't know our car could drive on GRASS!!!"

We found a parking spot (in the GRASS!) and marched our trio up to the log-cabin-esque fireworks store. With one "Hold hands, boys. We're going in," we made our way into the body-to-body crowd of patrons, and realizing this would be no time to be particular, I grabbed our basket and set my sights on sparklers and smoke bombs. I only had to talk Parker out of the Black Cat M-960-Blow-Your-House-and-Rotten-Tree-Down-Big-Bang-something-or-other two times, which I felt was high-ranking on the cooperative scale, especially in the midst of such chaos.

The proprietors of Fireworks City had a two-line checkout system that at first seemed screwy to me and everyone figuring it out around us. It entailed one line for having your items totaled and bagged up, and two other lines for payment (cash/plastic). Again, surprisingly, it really didn't take that long, but nevertheless the boys got a little temperamental during the wait. (Cable really doesn't care for crowds, it was about five degrees hotter inside the store, and just for the record, these boys are long overdue for some apart-time, but that's another story).

Thirteen dollars later (how much you wanna bet that when my brother Ted bought the same things back in 1983, the bill was like $2.50), we had assorted sparklers, smoke bombs, and snakes. (Regretfully, I didn't see the snap caps until we'd already been through the first line, and there was just no going back).

We stopped at the grocery store on the way home to pick up some red-white-and-blue Bomb Pops (now called Firecrackers, who would've guessed?). We returned home and sparklered, snaked and smoke bombed the tar out of Friar Tuck until we were coughing and couldn't see across the street.

When it was finally time to head out for the "big fireworks," we gathered our things and left. I made the executive decision to travel east, as opposed to downtown by the river, since I had the boys by myself this year and Germantown seemed like the less potentially disastrous choice between the two. We found a spot in the parking lot of the shopping center across from Municipal Park and set up camp in a grassy median right next to our car. No $10 parking, hauling chairs, bags, or children down to Riverside Drive and back again. Score one for me.

The boys ran as wild as two boys can on a 6x20 ft. grassy oasis in the middle of a parking lot, and occasionally sat in their little chairs for popsicles or Fritos, until the first fireworks began. They were pretty good (the fireworks, that is). Not the best I've seen, but this wasn't really for me. Most things aren't, anymore... haha. Cable and Parker were pretty good too, all things considered. Getting two very sticky, worn out little boys back in the car that was a foot and a half away at 9:45 pm produced more than one incident (can you imagine what might have happened if we'd had to walk from the river back up to Beale Street???). That tends to be discouraging for me, since I always feel like we don't get to do that much in the way of special occasions, and what we do get to do usually ends with them coming unglued and me getting pissed off out of impatience and frustration). Far from Norman Rockwell, we are. When I asked them if they had a good time, Cable scowled at me, and Parker's answer through choked-back tears was "The firewoooks... weren't... for a long time...Waaaaaaa..." And ten seconds later they were asleep.

So we'll all just keep working on appreciating the things we get to do. Or, hell, we can just drive on the grass when we need a little thrill, since that's probably what they'll wake up talking about tomorrow.

"Happy Birthday, dear America..."

Splash Day, the Sequel

2008-07-03T18:04:00.005-05:00

Until I can sit down with zero children in the same room, enjoy a few photos from Cable and Parker's second splash day at our summer camp.

They are definitely two peas in a pod, I know.

This Is the Kind of Fun We Want to Have

2008-06-27T17:58:00.010-05:00

Today's title is a direct quote from Cable: his latest way to define activities that he feels meet or exceed his excitement threshold. I've heard this honor bestowed on one other thing we've done so far this summer (the time Keith and I played hide-and-seek with them in the house).

This brings up something I alluded to in Introductions... the toll taken by teaching preschoolers all day then bringing two home with me and continuing what can only be described as the same battle, just on a smaller scale. The toll, then, is that when I find myself at home with my kids, alone, it takes everything I have to meet basic needs (i.e. dinner, hygiene, peaceful bedtime). Exceeding, meeting, or even tolerating four year old boys' action quotas just is not on the agenda. (Not proud of that). The summer break offers a window of opportunity for them -- the opportunity to have fun like boys should get to have fun.

So fun we shall have.

Today we ventured out to Collierville (about as far east as you can go in Shelby County) and partook in the wonder that is a sprinkler park. Today I learned that sprinkler parks RULE. Especially ones in Collierville that are not only FREE, but clean, safe, just slightly crowded (with reasonable people -- wow!) and so much fun.

In addition to the water mayhem, there was a kind person who sat down with a bag of balloons and made water balloons for the kids. This was especially fantastic for the boys, as they've never seen something full of water they were supposed to throw at each other. Cable didn't quite understand at first, carrying them around as though they were his firstborn children, getting understandably upset when they burst on the ground below. ("Baby, that's what they're for, to throw at people..." "But I don't want mine to break!!!") Once he grasped the concept, he lightened up.

We met up with two other families from our school which I do believe counts as a playdate, so somebody write that down... And we had a blast. We had such a good time that tomorrow we're going to go again, only next time Mommy's getting soaked, too!

This IS the kind of fun we want to have.

Hey Zoo, How Are You?

2008-06-25T15:48:00.013-05:00

God bless air conditioning and God bless my couch, the two items I require upon returning home from a trip to the zoo in June.

Proud Zoo Members once again (best 79 bucks a parent of young children can spend in this city), we've seen and smelled everything the Zoo has to offer today. For non-Memphians in the audience, you should know that Memphis boasts a spectacular zoo -- truly one of its best assets. It has a long history, and it's well-supported, especially by private donors. Our zoo is the kind of place where you walk in and forget that you're still in your own town. It's top-notch and magical in all the right ways for a little kid, and one of the things that still amazes me (having lived here for going on a decade) is that what is wonderful stays wonderful, which must take a whole lot of work.

I am fortunate to have had a pretty fun childhood, and of course, since it was my childhood, I think my memories from it are better than other people's from theirs. There are many, but my best ones are filed under "Grandma's House in Berwyn," or "On a Bike Somewhere in Morton," the seven or eight-year stretch of time when I was old enough to entertain myself away from the house without grownups, but not old enough to drive. It follows, then, that one of my recurring themes in parenting is "They'll Remember This!" and that's how I feel about our zoo. Cable and Parker are especially lucky to have our zoo as a "regular player" in their lives. It's still a special treat to go, but the zoo is part of our repertoire... we have a relationship with this zoo... this zoo is our friend.

Those are a few pictures from today's visit with our friend, the Memphis Zoo. (Butterfly Garden, Farm Train, Real Panda; Fake Giraffe).

Happy Birthday, Mom

2008-06-22T19:18:00.004-05:00

Dear Mom,

It's a little early, but I thought your birthday would make a great reason to get this up and running. And, if I do my job right, it's the gift that really keeps on giving!

We love you!
Sharon, Cable & Parker

Introductions

2008-06-22T11:02:00.017-05:00

Hi there. Welcome to Blue Times Two, the place where I intend to keep a long overdue account of life with the two most delightful little guys you can imagine.

Inspired by my amazing (and that's not just a random adjective -- she really is amazing) sister-in-law, Cara, this will be my best attempt to give the gift that she gives, which is to not only chronicle the two reasons I get up in the morning and all the precious little bits that otherwise might be forgotten, but to help people feel connected to our life. (I'll be proud if I can say Blue Times Two is a respectable but distant second to Me? A Mom? ). So, family, strangers, or somewhere in between, you're invited to get to know us.

Here's the lowdown on me: I live in Memphis with my four year old twins, Cable and Parker. They're named after superheroes (nope -- not kidding), which I actually love. You know how once your children are named, no other name could possibly fit them so perfectly? But this is one tiny speck of information not completely unrelated to why we are three and not four.

Let's go ahead and get that subject out of the way for now. Put simply, my boys' dad is a good dad (but mostly in ways that are fun for him). And as far as ex-husbands go, he does have many admirable qualities and skills that are of great service to me. I do have a wish list of other behaviors I'd like to see out of him, but in the words of Thom Yorke, "don't get any big ideas; they're not gonna happen." So I have to believe that in an age of "who's your daddy?" their dad is way better than a dad who is totally absent. (Even when he's a pain in my ass).

In order for some sort of regular deposit to make a brief appearance in my bank account, I am a Montessori teacher (for 3-6 year olds) ten months out of the year, a job which I care a lot about and mostly enjoy. Of course, I say this during one of the two blessed months I'm not doing that while also trying to be a decent mother to my kids. Let me tell you, the combination could be easily mistaken for mental torture more often than what's really considered healthy. But, as an IOP (Independently Operating Parent), it serves me well to have the same schedule as my children. And yes, we even go to school together. They're not in my classroom -- please, people -- but they are across the hall. While there is a substantial list of pros and cons to the whole teacher gig, including this one in particular, at the end of the day, things could be a whole lot more complicated, and I've got it pretty good for now.

Do I seek the man who has made something of himself, has a salary that makes mine look like the change my boys find under granola bar wrappers in our back seat, is all of the things on My List (including passing the shoe test, and having respectable taste in music), doesn't think of me just as his parents' friend, adores me, AND accepts Cable and Parker as his own while still respecting that they have a relationship with their dad?

You betcha.

Now. About these boys.

I've never understood what it is about twins, and why almost everyone who does not have them assumes that one must be one way, and the other must be the opposite. This is true sometimes (read on) but mine, man, they are a LOT alike. They've always been a LOT alike. Not just when we had to paint Cable's big toenail until they were like 6 months old, since genetically, they are the same person. Their likes, dislikes, hang-ups, strengths, weaknesses, etc. match up pretty well. In fact, up until the last year or so, I started to fear that I didn't know them well enough or something, because I really didn't feel like they were all that different, and everyone insisted that they HAVE to be different.

Complicating the matter further, on the off chance that one has solidified his reputation as being This, and the other That, they SWITCH. As soon as they become aware that a living being outside of their duo has perceived them as This and That, I swear to you, they switch. And I never notice it as it's happening, I only notice it the next day or so, when something brings it out, and I go, "Wait. Yep. They did it again."

But there are certain things about their little selves that have put down roots and set them apart from each other.

Cable is a smidge taller and a good pound heavier than Parker, but was born one minute later, which gives him the paradoxical distinction of being the "bigger, but younger" brother. He is his Daddy's boy. I am certain of his devotion to me, but I've really been noticing in the last couple months that Cable seems most at peace with the world when his Dad is here. On his rougher days, he can be incredibly moody, quickly unglued, a real force to be reckoned with. Yet Cable is also the child who thoughtfully plans his outfit the night before. He wakes up and gets dressed straight away. He is artistic and he gets remarkably absorbed in his process, and really makes things that say something when he sits down to work. He loves bugs, but especially snails, and prefers to offer them a ride to school rather than leaving them on the wet sidewalk when we leave the house in the morning. He can be surprisingly agreeable, like this morning when he lost control of his bike, ran off the street into the neighbor's flowering hedge, and with only the rear wheel of his bike sticking out of the hedge could be heard saying, "Mmmmm! This bush smells good!" He is beautiful, boisterous, and ALL boy.

Parker is equally beautiful, boisterous, and all boy (with the exception of his longer-lived-than-expected preference for princess toothpaste), but on the flip side, he is Mommy's boy. He is often the first thing I see in the morning, whether he's already lying next to me or I feel his quick little steps on the hardwood floors, and his crawling onto my bed. Either way, I open my eyes to see his little face right next to mine, smiling and then he plants a sloppy kiss on me and says "Good-morning-Mommeeeee!" On "school days" he takes after me, burying himself under his pillow, requiring multiple invitations to rise and face the day. On weekends, he might get dressed before lunch. In contrast with his brother, Parker seeks out his dirty clothes and appears from his room all crusty and disheveled, then acts surprised when I say "Parker, can you please find something clean to wear?" He has a tendency to be sensitive, too. He's the child who runs to his teachers on the playground just shy of tears because someone has smashed a bug. Like Cable, he loves animals, especially ours. Our dog Oscar sleeps on Parker's bed until I get in mine.

If I had the where-with-all (is that the right use of that word?) to make it happen, I'd sit down and log who leads which kinds of activities to see if there are any interesting trends happening, then pass my data on to Cara, who would no doubt produce an impressive spreadsheet with color coding. I can tell you without a formal scientific study that they are both accomplished in the art of mischief. They are both smitten with superheroes, coming to the rescue, construction machines, motorcycles, sports, potty talk, large creatures of the sea, and dinosaurs. They share my musical taste (thank GOD) and are well on their way to recording their first album. Do I have hilarious video -- wish it was digital -- of Cable playing serious air guitar to Black Sabbath in his underwear? Do they write their own songs? Was their first band name "We Rock Out Better Than You?" Was Parker's first song entitled "Man Who Pets Wolves?" Guilty on all counts. I rest my case.

So it is with boys. And mine are WONDERFUL.

Thanks for reading.
Enjoy.