The Spectator Returns

Mason is forced to watch everything Cooper does. I'm pretty sure he's sick of it. At a recent golf lesson Mason didn't watch Cooper, however, he watched the karate class with avid interest. Do you Kung Fu?

Sound the Alarm

I don't know about you, but when I see a tornado rolling in on the horizon, I usually take my kids to play putt-putt.

You can almost guarantee that when I lay a plan, an actually well-laid variety, something always happens to screw things up. It was a beautiful day in these parts. Sunny, no wind, not too hot. Then we showed up to play. In roll the clouds, up kicks the wind, and down comes the rain.

Nothing was as bad, however, as a little mishap in the "clubhouse". at about the halfway mark Mason had to use the restroom, of course. So we marched back into the small shop. As soon as we stepped into the bathroom the boys started gagging, hooting, and hollering that the placed stunk. It did. It was really disgusting in there, as if we had followed onto someone's alone time -- my money is on the lone man who was running the putt-putt course.

They were actually yelling comments like, "Get me out of here." and "We're going to die, let us out!" Yes, that dramatic. When we all tumbled out of there in a big hurry we practically landed at the feet of the man who surely left behind the cloud of funk. Fun.

Dress Codes

I think I've mentioned how I feel about dress codes before. I also have some strong opinions about fashion and modesty in general. I've tried to pass this on to my two little boys. They, much to my public humiliation, do not care. I mistakenly thought this would improve with time, but it's gotten a bit more ridiculous as their own opinions are forming and galvanizing.


One exception has been golf dress codes. We've been pretty clear with the boys. If they want to go to the range, they have to wear shirts with collars and sleeves. Of course we explained this in great detail and gave exceptional reasons, including a historic review of golf attire through the ages (not really, but if you know me you know how close this is to the truth).


Cooper has been taking a type of golf lesson at the recreation center. It's very relaxed and they are not required to follow usual golf dress codes. One night he ended up at lessons in a sleeveless shirt (his own ensemble, I might add). After about 5 minutes he realized what he was wearing and covered himself then shrieked, "Oh no, everyone can see my armpits."

Teaching your children the value of dress codes: done.

Oh The Consideration

Cooper, sweet Cooper. You know how to get what you want.

Due to a raging sinus infection, I found myself avoiding the sonorous snores of my sweet husband. Basically I was camped on the couch while my hubby sawed logs in the bedroom. At about 10:30 p.m. Cooper wandered downstairs and with great concern and consideration tricked me into letting him sleep on the couch, too.

"Is daddy snoring again?"

"Yes. Did he wake you up?"

"Are you thinking about sleeping on the couch?"

"Why yes, dear, I am."

"Would you like some company?"

"As a matter-of-fact, yes."

And so our huge sectional became an L-shaped bunk bed for Cooper and me.

So Awesome

"Is this so awesome?!?!?!"

Ummm, just for the record, I don't talk like that. My sassy 2-year-old does! What else from the the mouth of Mason can I report?

"I need to check that out." (When faced with the bad news that we were out of fruit snacks.)

"Just wait three minutes!" (Exasperatingly staving off Cooper until his turn was up.)

"My shoulder really hurts." (He has sympathy pains.)

"This leg is broken." (When ever he wants me to pick him up.)

"Tooper doesn't belong here." (Expressing his aggravation toward the older sibling.)

"That baby is following me." (Pointing to the other 2-year-old we invited over for a playdate.)


We've also noticed a persistent speech thing with him. Every hard C or K is pronounced as a T. So scar becomes star. Pickle is Pittle. Curious is Tour-e-russ. Cooper is Tooper. Can't is Tan't. You get the picture. Very, very funny.

PHOTO NOTE: First he wouldn't wear his goggles during lessons. But since earning his first ribbon, won't. take. them. off.

It's A Good Idea

When you're so cheesed off you could punch out someone's I-teeth, it's a good idea to spend some time in the garden. The garden heals in ways cleaning a toilet never does. A garden is brimming with needs that I can meet. Hard work goes a long way and there is always fruit from the labor.

Today I rinsed away my anger by adding a spirea to a spotty hedge, moving a sage and replacing it with day lilies, increasing the rose bush count, settling two new rudbeckias in front of the pear tree, and closing the gap the bunnies have left with some whirling butterflies.

The names of plants alone take my mind off my worries and to a fantastical world of nymphs, fairies, and miniature worlds with bug and rodent residents. Every heap of Earth I move with my shovel brings me closer to one of my grandmas. She was a farm girl, and I think somewhere in my city-fied self there is dirt in my clogs and sprouts in my heart.

When I sweat in my garden I never feel dirty. And when I cry in my garden, absolutely no one knows.

I Should Avoid Cheese

Phew! I've been a bit busy. But, I've got a loaf of banana bread in the oven, so by all means I should dilly dally online for an hour and share with you another reason why I should avoid cheese.

Some of you may remember the original cheese incident. But for those of you that didn't know me 10 years ago, please let me recap.

On a dark and snowy evening I found myself with a good college pal (we weren't in college anymore, but that's how well she knows me) at a Lisa Loeb concert in Boulder, Colorado. A few things to note, we were in Colorado, which is dry, and we had chapped lips. It was snowing. So, while I don't remember exactly the month of the year, it was not July. My friend asked me for some lip balm.

I reached into this great Cole Haan leather bag I had back then (someone since told me it looked like a feedbag so I stopped using it) and started fishing around for lip balm. In the dark of the Boulder Theater I couldn't see anything and when my flanges lighted upon something in cellophane I was confused and pulled out mystery object for closer scrutiny. It was an individually wrapped piece of American cheese!

Please note the most recent time I had purchased this type of cheese was the 4th of July for fixings on burgers -- the only time my husband indulges my affection for cheese product. I'm just saying that cheese was in my purse for at least six months.

Alas, I thought that would be the last time I'd have a cheese/purse incident. Ohhhhhh, no. It's not.

I won't bore you with the details, but the next time I go to Martini and a Movie at the Wildlife Experience I will not be tucking away "just one more piece of that amazing gouda" for nibbling during the show. Let's just say, gouda, not's so good-a the next morning when you find it wrapped in its mangy napkin at the bottom of your purse. Also, purse still smells like gouda.

Perhaps when that pig of a coworker told me my purse looked like a feedbag so many years ago he was actually trying to say I should quit using my purse as a feedbag, not that it actually looked like one.

I Did Something...

I did something scary, and fun. Read about it, here: http://handmadebyhooli.blogspot.com/2009/07/date-with-donk.html

Maaaaassssson!

Is this sweet, or simply a sweaty handful of my geraniums? Grrrr.


When I screamed, "Mason those are my flowers!"

He cooed, "Oh, I love flowers." And then sniffed them.

Mrs. Green Jeans

Today Coop stopped me to ask, "Mommy are you going golfing today?"

"Sadly, no. Why do you ask?"

"Because you's pants match the green grass."

Oh of course. I'll remember that.

This from the same kid who -- on a day when I hadn't showered in three days and was wearing a ball cap, wife-beater tank top, and work out pants -- said, "Mom, you look really good."

He was serious. When I thanked him he said, "You know, because you's wearing all black. I like black."


PS -- I don't actually beat wives. Except upon request and on the 6th hole.

Alluring

I've mentioned before how Mason fell in love with the bait. Wanted to show off a few more pictures of his love affair with the creepy-crawlies. (Thanks to Scats for buying him such a wonderful toy.)





PS -- I also wanted to mention the mere fact that Mason is in this life jacket is miraculous. It is the result of an hour long negotiation. But once he had it on, he enjoyed his water activities. Sometimes the first step is the hardest, but worth the struggle.

Oh, I Get It

You know that agitated, prancing-dancing, wiggly jig that children (and some adults) do when they need to use a bathroom? Well I'd been watching Coop do that for about an hour during our flight when I finally couldn't take it anymore and asked him if he needed to use the restroom. He declined three times before he realized HE just couldn't take it anymore. So, he looked at me and said, "So what do we do, tell the pilot?"

He thought the pilot had to land the plane to let him use the facilities and was actually desperate enough to consider this a real and reasonable possibility. It IS all about him.

What Do You Do In The Summertime?

I dream of tiled bathrooms, fresh paint, and sewing projects. Yes, sad to admit but the entire time I was on vacation I was thinking about work. More specifically, my rest and relaxation made for perfect quietude in which to mull over the many projects left undone, not yet started, and screaming for attention. If you're wondering why I get obsessed with projects right around The Fourth (such a funny way to refer to a holiday), join the club. And that would be the "My wife is crazy" club. But I've always been that way, want proof?Visit 2007's entry.

The synopsis of my vacation goes something like this.

While I was envisioning what could be done with the upstairs bathroom I...

boarded a plane headed to Indiana and listened to Mason hum Raiders March the entire way. As soon as we settled into our seat belts we realized our entire row had broken T.V.s -- so we busted out the coloring books before tears set in.

When I started brooding over where to transplant the much-too-big sage bush up front I...

watched as Cooper struck up a friendship/hero worship with a new friend. I have to say, this little 10-year-old was a very gracious host and shared all his toys with my son. All of them. So darling, so sweet, so kind. I can only hope my children will act this way when they are 10.

As I chawed on ideas for new items for my etsy shop I...

attended to a much needed kiss on my little Mason's rosy cheeks. Boy he's cute. But grrr... he completely regressed on the toilet training front. Completely. Which forced me to go to Wal-Mart during our trip. Where I found white wine in the baby items aisle. Only in Indy, or Wal-Mart.

Because I couldn't stop thinking over my plans for Mason's birthday party I...

examined his intensity. He colored and colored and colored. Be it Indy or home, that boy needs a crayon in hand. Perhaps he should have an art party?!?!?!?

Of course my thoughts turned to the loads of laundry I would have when I got home so I...

enjoyed the fact that none of us did any laundry at all. Especially the jokers in the hammock. Was funny to see Cooper do a 360 flip in this thing, not once, but twice. I'm such a good mom.


For only a fleeting moment I deliberated the upcoming deadlines for sports registrations and concluded I don't know what we should enroll in, but ...

swimming was, is and always will be on the agenda. Cooper loved his nervously exhilarating ride in the tube.

I tried to tell myself I wasn't sweating over the messy rooms back home as I...

purchased another set of LEGOs. It had to be done. All I'm saying is sans LEGOs, my boys go through withdrawals.

Drapery rod choices hung heavy in my thoughts as I...

watched Cooper cast a fishing rod and catch three fish. Or the same fish three times. Not sure about those little fish. I also extracted my first fish hook, while grasping onto that quickly expiring fishy. Blech. I predict more of that in my future and I have mixed feelings.

As I tried to arouse ambition in myself to return to a regime of gym time (on account of Italian Beef, Elephant Ears, and Funnel Cakes) I...

laughed my butt off watching Mason fall in love with these be-moths (or big fat grubs). He was advised not to name bait.

Inspiration for new projects and longer lists crept up on me at every turn and so did...

the end of our trip. It seemed it was coming to an end from the moment we set out. Time really does zip along when you're having fun. Well, except for that little part when Mason took a hiatus from toilet training and pooped on a dinning room chair. That was agonizing. But other than that, we enjoyed ourselves immensely.

Bye Indiana, until next time. Which, I might add will be here -- we want to return the unending hospitality.

We're Home

Essentially Nonessential

I just completed a marathon session of packing for an upcoming Independence Day holiday. There's nothing like packing for holiday to point out to you your faults.

1. I'm NOT organized.
2. My house is a wreck.
3. I hoard. (Not like, call Oprah I live next to a hoarder, but like I like my stuff.)

So here's what I've concluded. There are a few essential non essentials that we'll be taking with us. I'm may regret these items, but then again....

The Potette
This is a collapsible, portable, potty chair with disposable liners that catch the... well, you get it. A must have for germ-a-phobe moms and kids who are in the midst of toilet training.

6 Leapster games
Even though my children tend to only play the Batman and the Star Wars games, I think I should take all of them -- including two new ones. Because, you just never know (please see afore mentioned note on hoarding).

Goldfish and Trail Mix
This is in the carry-on for the plane. The flight is quite short, surely my kids can go without carbs for a few hours. But, I'm packing it.

12 Golf Balls
First of all, let me just say that technically I'm not supposed to be golfing. Next let me just say that the last time I went golfing I didn't loose any balls and I actually found two. But oh I fear not having enough -- six for him, and six for me.

There you have it... the essential, non-essentials. Now for the non-negotiable essentials that take up a lot of room.

The Nebulizer
I was hoping that Cooper would be able to live without it for the week. He hasn't had a respiratory event in at least two months. But at our most recent appointment we (his specialist and me) decided that he wasn't ready. It's the right choice, but it's still a pain in the neck. (Wouldn't you know it the morning after his appointment, he started having trouble.)

Something like 28 pairs of underpants (which aren't really pairs, but you know what I mean)
I don't think I really need to explain this one. But let me just remind you that Cooper is a 4-year-old boy and Mason is new to underpants in general. Enough said.

Alllllllll right then. If you haven't caught on, we're going on vacation. I'll update the blog, but probably without pictures. I will post pictures on Facebook.