heads up, 7 up

I've been reminded countless times how motherhood is a journey of discovery. The first time projectile poop sprayed the wall near the changing table. Hmm, a discovery. The first time I fashioned a make-shift toy out of a pen cap, key ring, and quarter. Hmm, a discovery. The first time one of the kids did something new and my heart swelled with pride. Hmm, a discovery. I could go on and on. Most explorers spend a lifetime -- their career -- trying to discover new things, people, or places. Yet, mothers do it every day, over and over again. I'm not climbing Everest or kayaking the Amazon, but usually once a day I say to myself, "Wow, I didn't know that." And, with poop, toddler tantrums, potty-training preschoolers, or sibling rivalries, well, there are risks involved too.

Now that Julia is older and in school, lately, I've been reminded how motherhood is also a journey of REdiscovery. As she learns and tries new things -- then comes home to tell me about them -- I rediscover them all over again. In some cases, the tidbit is something that I haven't thought of in years, or even decades. And, I've learned, that these rediscoveries are almost more fun the second time around.

Take Girl Scouts, which has been a whole rediscovery of itself. This year, Julia is a Daisy Scout, which is basically a pre-Brownie, which is a pre-Junior Girl Scout, which is a pre-Girl Scout. There's this whole hierarchical order to the organization that I was never really aware of. Anyway, she only meets with her troop once a month or so, but she enjoys going and learning new things. At last month's meeting, the girls had about 20 minutes left to play games. They played tag, duck, duck, goose, and red light, green light, but they still had about 10 minutes to spare. I watched from the side of the room, refereeing when necessary, and swaying with Charlie. That's when one of the girls said IT-- a rediscovery: "Let's play Heads up, 7-up!" The girls, including my daughter, cheered and lauded the game decision. Then, they promptly laid on the floor, faces burrowed in their arms, and thumbs out.

What? Heads up, 7-up? Oh my goodness. I said the name of the game out loud, just so I could hear it in my own voice. I hadn't thought about that game in years. It's been 20 years since I played it, I figured. I said it out loud again. It felt familiar, yet foreign. I watched the girls wiggling their thumbs in the air -- waiting to be touched-- and my own thumb ached. I remember that feeling, sitting at my desk in the fourth grade with my thumb out, then...a pause and a touch. The adrenaline. My blood pumped, knowing that soon I'd get to guess who tagged my thumb; then, I'd get to tag someone myself. Maybe, I'd tag the boy I liked. I loved Heads up, 7-up. Everyone did. And, apparently, kids still do. I didn't know this. I'd never even wondered.

Afterward, I asked Julia about it. "Mrs. C taught it to us," she told me, referring to her kindergarten teacher. "We played it one day during indoor recess." Indoor recess? Indoor recess! Geez, there's something else that I haven't thought about in, oh, 20 years. I looked at Julia completely intrigued and in awe, wondering what other magical rediscovery was going to tumble out of her mouth. I've already been reintroduced to Barbies and My Little Pony's; embroiled recess battles and the need for shorts under your skirts; "Miss Mary Mack" and other nonsense rhymes; fire safety tips like "stop, drop, and roll"; skating parties and chocolate milk cartons; and more. There's something new every day; some just blindside me harder than others. Heads up, 7-up practically knocked the wind out of me.

Since that day, I've gone fishing several times, prodding Julia after school each day for other juicy nuggets that will stir familiar feelings from my youth. Sometimes, it's not something she tells me, but something she shows me. She and I had another "stranger, danger" discussion not long ago, reviewing the basics of good touches and bad touches and what to do if she ever feels uneasy or unsafe. I used scary words with her, like "kidnapping" and "abuse." I told her to trust that I would always do everything I could to protect her, but she was scared. I could see the fear. I hugged her tightly because I remembered that feeling. I remembered the feelings that those words stirred inside me. I want her to feel safe, but I also want her to be cautious. Her reaction reminded me of my own when my mother used to talk about those things with me.

The lessons of rediscovery don't begin and end with Julia. All of the kids reintroduce me to something or some lesson all of the time. Take little Charlie, he's become a master crawler. He reminded me tonight just how quickly an 8 1/2 month old can crawl from the bedroom to the bathroom, pull himself up at the toilet, and splash in the water. Apparently, it takes about 4.5 seconds. I thought we had another month to go before toilet splashing and lighting-quick crawling. I'm happy he reminded me, because I'd forgotten.

And, then there's Henry. Tonight, he reminded how much fun I have when I slow down, put work away, forget laundry or vacuuming, and just spend some one-on-one time with my favorite 3-year-old. Daddy took Julia to see a play, so the boys and I stayed home. We baked brownies and played two hands of "Go Fish." Then, we popped in a movie and snuggled in bed. I dug out an old VHS copy of "Babe" -- the movie about the talking sheep pig. Henry had never seen it. It's one of my favorite family flicks, but I haven't watched in about 10 years. Another discovery for him and a rediscovery for me. Those are the best kind.

halloween 2009

The weather for most of October has been cold, wet, and more winter-like than fall-like. But, not tonight! What a wonderful Halloween! The kids and I kept busy with odds and ends in the morning, passed out some treat bags to friends in the afternoon, ate a pre-trick or treat snack (see below) and then got ready. The weather was gorgeous, and Grandma even came to hang out with us.

Julia decided months ago that she wanted to be Dorothy from Wizard of Oz, mostly because she wanted to wear the shoes. Henry was non-committal for weeks -- trying to decide between astronaut, scarecrow, or something else. He eventually settled on being a robot once we saw the costume that I made for Julia a couple of years ago. He loved it. Charlie wore a lion costume that my niece, Lauren, wore last year. He looked precious! He was especially feisty tonight, chattering and babbling. He clutched an Airhead for probably an hour. His personality matched the costume, which was fun.




The kids trick or treated for probably an hour, but decided they'd rather pass out candy from our house. We went with our friends the Headley's for about half the time. Both Julia and her buddy Evie were Dorothy, which was neat. They both looks so cute carrying their little Toto baskets.


Charlie went too!


A couple of fun things to remember from the day...Julia told a couple of people that she was dressed as Dorothy, but that her Great Grandma (whose name is Dorothy) really is Dorothy. I thought that was cute. And, Henry, who ate so much sugar this evening that I could barely get him to settle down, fell once in his robot costume. He fell forward on our friend/neighbor's steps. His little arms and legs flailed helplessly. He was stuck. I laughed because it was hilarious (and we got him up unscathed), but the poor thing looked ridiculous. Henry also worked all day on his robot accent, but he only had one phrase: "I am a robot. Give me some candy." So funny. And Charlie, my sweet boy...

This morning, he wanted to take a shower with Julia and Henry. He scurried over to the shower and banged on the door. When they were both finished, I let him crawl around on floor of the shower. Then, I got undressed, scooped him up, and showered with him. Afterward, I dried him off, but had to sit him on the bathmat so I could get dry. But, he didn't like that. He sat on the mat, wrapped in a towel, crying. That's when he said it. It! "Mama." It actually sounded more like "mamamamama." I instantly felt bad for scolding him "no no" for pulling all of the shampoo, conditioner, and soap bottles off of the ledge on onto me feet. He said Mama. :-) It's about time!





I liked this picture of the girls because the leaves reminded me of a yellow brick road:


The kids with their snacks from earlier:

michael o'lantern

Last night, the kids and I got in the full Halloween spirit. I finished up their costumes -- just little tweaks here and there -- then we carved a pumpkin and made caramel apples. I tried to do the pumpkin and apples at the same time -- swirling the caramel on low heat with pumpkin innards on my hands. Mmm. But we timed it right and we were able to do both.

While the caramel apples set in the fridge -- translation: turned into hard globs of caramel grossness impenetrable by human teeth -- we worked on the pumpkin. In past years, I've drawn a simple eyes-nose-jagged mouth trio on the squash (or is it a gourd?) and we've gone from there; using my steak knives to saw through the hard layers. Last year, Julia drew the pumpkin's face and I carved it. But, this year, we really stepped it up a notch. We used one of those supermarket kits with templates and special, itty-bitty carving tools to plan and execute a perfectly carved jack o' lantern. Henry selected the picture: a pirate-esque skull-and-cross-bones wearing a bandana and eye patch (of course).

So, I got to work. I was just about to wrap up my second-to-last cross bone, when -- gasp! -- I sliced the wrong part. The skull's eye patch flapped off to the side and there was a gaping hole where there wasn't supposed to be a hole. Crap. Um, can I glue it?

Turns out, yes, you can use E6000 to perform reconstructive surgery on a jack o' lantern. A couple globs here and there, masking tape to hold it in place while drying, and viola -- all set. The kids loved it!

Hubby: "Wow, your pumpkin turned out really good."
Me: "Thanks, can you tell what it's supposed to be?"
Hubby: "Yeah, sure, it's Michael Jackson."
Me: "What tipped you off? The glue holding everything in place or the hollow nose."
Hubby: "More like the skeletal appearance."

Because I'm pretty sure E6000 is flamable, we'll light Michael Jackson briefly tonight for a quick picture. He'll need to be monitored. (Pretty sure there's a joke in there somewhere.) Pictures to come... (Updated with pictures!)

the boy, the girl, that lady, and the guy

That Lady with the milk on tap and cozy shoulder (the Girl and Boy call her "Mom") left her laptop open. I've been very busy doing all sorts of new tricks for that Lady, but it barely registers. Has she updated this journal recently? No. So, I decided to do it myself. What's a baby got to do around here to get a little publicity? Geeish.

She's in the kitchen, yelling at the Girl and Boy to take one more bite of some yucky green stuff if they want to get some yummy, chocolate stuff. She thinks I'm rolling around the floor in the playroom. But, I'm not. I can crawl now (and type and write coherent sentences. Who knew?). I helped myself to her blog to tell you what's really been going on in our house.

For starters, some babies have it easy. I don't. I'm cute, yeah, and pretty funny. Most strangers say I'm adorable, actually. But, it's hard being adorable all the time. Sure, I flash my jack-o-lantern grin fairly freely, but that's only because the Girl and Boy crack me up. They're always dancing in front of me, telling made-up "knock, knock" jokes, or hitting each other over the head with rubber bowling pins. It's hilarious. When the Girl calls me "ch, ch, ch, ch Charlie," I laugh so hard I think I pee my diaper. The Boy is nice too. Sometimes he gets mad when I slobber on his Spiderman and Batman action figures, but that Lady tells him that we all share toys in this house. Except, the Joker, she won't let me chew on the bad guys because she says I'm too young for villains. That Boy also has really tasty army men, cars, and tools. A couple of the tools even talk to me; one says, "we've got work to do," but I don't know what that means. Even though the Boy doesn't like it when I chew on his tools or knock down his block towers, he sometimes tries to give me M&Ms, and I like that. Until that Lady finds out.

Even so, it's hard being a baby. That Boy and Girl are very busy. That Lady puts us all in a giant, white moving thing about 20 times a day, probably. Then, she speeds all over town, saying "hurry, hurry, hurry" and "will you please quit touching each other." I'm not even touching anyone. We have to visit special rooms for the Girl and Boy every day; she calls them classrooms. There are lots of small people there who poke my belly, make silly faces, and say "coochie coochie coo." Then the Boy and Girl pull my arms and legs and that Lady tells everyone to back off and she raises me real high. I like the tickles. Who am I kidding? I LOVE the tickles. But, afterward, that Lady always rubs stinky, wet stuff all over my hands and I don't like that. Because, sometimes, I like to put my thumb in my mouth and then it tastes yucky. The Boy's army men taste better though, so I'll just suck on those later. That Lady also makes me sit out in the hot sun or cool wind to watch dumb ol' soccer games. She drags me around town for stops at the grocery story, doctor's office, recycling center, and lots of other places. She tells me, "Just one more stop, Charlie," but that usually means we have a bunch more stops. I'm a very busy baby. At night, I just want to soak my chubby toes in a warm bath. I love baths. But, that Lady only gives me one every other day or so. Dang it. She must be busy too.

The good thing about being a baby is the food. That Lady lets me try all sorts of new foods now. Fig Newtons are better than army men, so are sweet potatoes, pears, and yogurt parfaits from McDonalds. She also gave me some delicious, orange stuff that the Boy and Girl called "cheese." It sounds like "peas," but I don't like those. My favorite, favorite are bananas. Mashed, of course.

OK, so maybe being a baby isn't so bad. I love sleeping with the Lady. She's cozy and we cuddle. There's a big, tall Guy too. He likes to lift me high in the hair and blow bubbles on my tummy. Those are nice. And, now that I can crawl, I explore the other rooms and make new discoveries every day. Like hair bands and puzzle pieces. Rubber ends from the door stops and crunchy leaves that were blown inside. And, tiny little plastic things. Except, when I find those, that Lady yells at the Boy to "please put away his legos." Or, she yells at the Girl to "please put away the princess shoes." Pretty soon, I'm going to be bigger. I'll be louder and will be able to say more than just "Da da da." I'll tell these people that a baby can only watch so much Diego, Little Einsteins, or princess movies. I'll tell them that I can't stomach another round of "Purple People Eater" on the Halloween CD. And, I'll tell them to quit hogging that Lady -- because she's really pretty and nice and makes good food and I want her all to myself.

Uh oh. I just heard my name. It's the Lady. Time for dinner.