For the summer of 2011, we're talking with two other families about spending the summer in Israel. The trip we took in February of last year was so amazing, that I'd love to spend more time there, get to know the country better. Husbands would only be able to spend a couple of weeks, but moms and kids could be there for four to eight weeks. Send the kids to camp there, learn the language, really immerse ourselves.

I told the kids about the idea. Pie said, "Yea!! Israel! It was so much fun! I can't wait!"

Doodles threw his head back dramatically and complained, "Israel! Again!"

Watching the opening ceremonies (finally!) we watched the dance of the First Nations. Doodles had lots of questions about them, which I try to answer. Then I say...

Me: Maybe we'll go there this summer. What would you think?
Doodles: Go where?
Me: To the Northwest. We could go to Seattle and then to Vancouver.
Doodles: Awwww! [Throws his head down in disgust.]
Me, surprised: That doesn't interest you?
Doodles: No!
Me: If you could go anywhere on vacation, where would you go?
Doodles: Egypt!
Me: Well that's not going to happen now. Where else would you want to go?
Doodles, with a big sigh: Nowhere.

Six years old. And already jaded. Wait till he realizes it's all downhill from here.

Labels: doodles

I've been suckered. It's 7:59 p.m. and I've got two incredibly sleepy children next to me. But I made the mistake earlier of saying, "Hey, the Olympic opening ceremonies are on at 7:30. If you guys want to stay up late, you can watch it." They, of course, took me up on the offer, and we started watching.

Before we began, I said to Adam, "Did you hear about the luger?" "No," he said. "Look it up. But don't say anything. I don't want it a topic of discussion." What was I thinking? Doodles and I had a huge battle when I turned off the TV when Tom Brokaw said, "The footage you are about to see about the death of Georgian luge slider Nodar Kumaritashvili is graphic." We had no choice but to explain to them about the accident. Pie keeps asking over and over, "So he went off the quarters?" "The course." "So he died?" "Yes, he died." "How did he die?"

Let me move on by saying the (male) sportscaster is interviewing snowboarder Shaun White. Me: "Man, I wish I had a head of hair like him."
Pie: "Him? That's a guy?"
Me: "Yeah."
Pie: "How do you know?"
Me: "I just know."
Pie: "Are those two people [Sean and the sportscaster] married?"
Me: "No."

So all this is happening, and I finally say to Adam, "What time, exactly, do these opening ceremonies start? I thought it was 7:30."

He does a little zing zing on his computer and then laughs at me. "Coverage of the opening ceremonies start at 7:30. But the opening ceremonies don't start till 9."

Try telling my kids, "Nevermind! I was wrong!" So instead I have two already tired kids trying their best to make it up till 9. It's not going to happen. But they're giving it their all, although I predict Pie will be out in about 2.73 minutes.

5. 4. 3. 2. 1. No, the ceremonies haven't started. But Pie wins the gold medal in sleep. One down, one to go!

Labels: doodles, pie, sports

Lots of times when I run, my mind is focused on something specific: a problem I'm trying to work out in my novel, working out a school situation for Doodles, thinking about ways to get Pie over her tantrum stage. I frequently make and go over my to-do lists when I'm out there. Running is the best method I have for de-stressing and working things out. But occasionally, I'll just crank up the iPod and my mind will float where it may. This past Monday, as I kept up a nice tempo and ABC (the band, not the kid song) was playing, my mind wandered and I started thinking about the kids. But oddly, I realized, that when I think about the kids, I think about them about two years behind. When I picture the kids, I think of Pie as a toddler, speaking in halting sentences, and Doodles, as this little kid bopping around and tripping on himself with his uncoordinated walk. When I see them in real life, it's almost shocking.

Who are these big kids? I sign Pie up for kindergarten today and, oh, the things she can do! She can go to the computer, turn it on, load up her phonics game, and play. She can add and subtract and write the names of everyone in the family. She's the best Go Fish player I've met. She's adept at using my iPhone and knows the words to Selena Gomez's and Hannah Montana's most popular songs. She oozes attitude like a teenager.

My boy is not just reading, he's reading. We've moved way beyond Minnie and Moo and Biscuit and his new "just right books" include my childhood favorites, like Judy Blume. We're reading Freckle Juice together and last night, as we went to bed, he said, "Yea! Another chapter of Freckle Juice!" He absorbs information and can spew out things he gleaned from books or school or by looking it up on the computer. Adam and I are no longer the ultimate sources of knowledge--he can find things out himself.

I've noticed of late that my kids simply take up more space. Pie's outgrown her car seat and we're going to be a booster-only family. Doodles laughs every time I mock-cry, "My baby boy! Stop getting so big!" and he tells me, "Mom, I can't help it! It's what I'm supposed to do!"

What's a mama to do?

Labels: doodles, pie

Six. That's right, six. The magic age when a child becomes embarrassed by his mother. My son has suddenly blossomed into tweendom. Walking home from school, I was chatting up a neighbor girl. A second grader. Who lives on our block. Walking home with her father and her younger sister. The humiliating conversation?

Me, first to Tab and then to Doodles: So, anything exciting happen today?
Tab: No.
Doodles: Mmmph.
Me to neighbor girl: How about you? Anything exciting happen today?
Neighbor: Well...
Doodles, hitting me with his jacket: Mom! Cut it out!
Neighbor: We watched a movie at school today.
Me: That does sound exciting. What movie?
Doodles: MOM! CUT IT OUT!
Me: Sweetie, I'm allowed to talk to our neighbor if I choose to.
Doodles: No!
Neighbor: It was a Magic Schoolbus movie.
Me: What was it about?
Doodles, still hitting me: CUT IT OUT CUT IT OUT CUT IT OUT CUT IT OUT CUT IT OUT!
Neighbor: It was about gravity. Because we're learning about the moon!
Doodles: Cut it out!
Me: Doodles you're being rude.
[pause a few seconds]
Doodles: Mom, can I have computer time when we get home?
Timing isn't his forte. And for the record, the answer was no.

Pie, four-year-old little Pie, isn't immune to tweendom, either. Her birthday is six months, four weeks and one day away. Pie is suddenly into the rock stars and she's planning a rock star birthday. ("Can I have a swimming rock star birthday?" "That might be a bit much." "Okay, then this birthday will be a rock star birthday and my six birthday will be a swimming party.") She's obsessed with being a rock star. Which has led to some interesting outfits. Pie has a number of dresses that she loves, but which she's clearly grown out of. A few weeks ago, we agreed that she could keep wearing the too-small dresses but with a pair of leggings underneath.

A couple of days ago she put on one of those dresses, which barely grazes her tush.
Me: You've definitely grown out of that dress!
Pie: Oh?
Me: It's too short on you. Why don't you put some leggings?
Pie: Oh, I don't need to!
Me: I thought we said when dresses are too short, you'd wear them with leggings. Lots of rock stars wear leggings. It's very popular for rock stars.
Pie: But, Mom, I saw Hannah Montana! And she had on a really short skirt with no leggings! So I'll just wear tights with the dress.

Just shoot me now.

Labels: doodles, pie

My kids have personalities as different as can be. But nowhere does it show itself as clearly as it does in their reaction to the weather. Doodles, who claimed that his favorite thing about the trip to Miami Beach was "the hotness," constantly bemoans the fact that we live in New England instead of Florida. The minute the temperature drops, the boy becomes a couch potato, piling up a stack of books, planting himself in front of the fireplace, and settling in for the day.

The girl has the opposite reaction. She wakes up. "Snow? Can I shovel!" She's the first one in her snow pants and ready to play outside. This morning as I attempted to shovel us out--attempted because it was one of those wet, heavy snows that doesn't want to cooperate with the shovel--she proclaimed, "Do you know what my favorite season is? It's winter!" And then she attempted to make a snow slide out of the mounds being shoveled.

I want to buy all of us snow shoes. Pie says, "Can we go today?" I tell her, "I haven't bought them yet!" Doodles protests, "I don't want snow shoes. It's just walking in the snow with tennis rackets on your feet. And I hate walking."

My sun worshiper and my snow baby. And never the 'twain shall meet.

Labels: doodles, pie, snow

Both Pie and Rebecca Rubin are doing well right now, thank you. It was really touch and go for both of them for a bit. Pie had such a fit this morning that I had a choice to make: Do something that would rightfully have DSS after me or take it out on Rebecca Rubin. I'm sorry Rebecca Rubin. But those moments you spent in the trash can were well worth it, in my book.

Adam's still in London and the kids have morphed into devil children. Pie refused to walk Doodles to school, which meant that either 1) she'd be home alone or 2) Doodles would miss school (which given what comes next, I don't think he would have minded). Out and out tantrum about getting on her boots to walk the boy. That's when Rebecca Rubin made a visit to the trash can (and no, I did not put a $100 doll in the trash can, but she took a little rest on top of the trash can). And then finally--screaming the entire three blocks--we get to Doodles's school where Doodles--Doodles!!!--had a horrendous drop off. He cried and cried and refused to go into school and his (yes, 1st grade!) teacher had to peel him off of me.

After school, Pie was whiny and insisted on a playdate. It was really against my better judgment, but I agreed. The girl who came over is a charming girl, who I actually really like a lot. (Does this mean there are kids I don't like? Let's not go there, shall we?) Let's just say the playdate did not go well. On either side. Pie didn't share. The other girl decided we were all mean (I was mean--I insisted she hold my hand when we crossed the street to pick up Doodles. Can you believe what a be-yatch I am?). No one could get along. The playdate ended very early.

I managed to keep both kids alive and occupied the rest of the afternoon without resorting to too much bribery (okay, there may have been a few extra marshmallows in the hot chocolate, but this is survival mode!).

And now? Now the kids are fed, in pajamas, teeth brushed, and parked in front of Phineas and Ferb. If I play my cards right, they'll both be in bed by 7 and I'll have my glass of wine at 7:01.

We're almost at the finish line. Almost....

Labels: doodles, meltdowns, pie

Me: Did you do anything for Hanukkah at Hebrew school?
Doodles: Yeah. We played Hanukkah bingo.
Me: That sounds fun!
D: No, it wasn't it was really boring.
Me: Doodles, you are so negative all the time! You're the biggest Negative Nelly I've ever met!
D: Mom, you're going to live with me a long time. You gotta get used to it.

Labels: doodles

I'm watching Singing in the Rain with my kids. We checked it out of the library, "we" being me and Pie, as Doodles swore he had no interest and all he wanted to do was listen to the Harry Potter book on CD he checked out. But about ten minutes in, Doodles wandered into the room and became hooked.

"You know," I told Pie. "Gene Kelly is a very famous dancer."

"Really?" she asked. "Was he in Mamma Mia?"

Of course, it didn't start out well. The MGM Lion? Well, apparently it's terrifying. It took a lot of convincing to get Pie turned around to watch the film. You know what else is terrifying? When Lena gets a Pie in the face. Yikes! Head buried! And if you're outside in the rain alone? Sc-ar-y!

But nothing, no nothing, is as terrifying to anyone as the romantic scenes are to Doodles. He literally cowers under the covers (he's watching in his underwear, beneath our couch blanket) anytime anyone embraces and makes whimpering noises if he accidentally sees kissing.

And did you know the movie is confusing. "Why did his face go all squishy? Who talks yucky? Why is that a yucky voice? Why is he going through that wall? Why is she wearing that?" And on. And on. And on.

Till she passed out. Leaving only Doodles glued to the screen. As long as no one is smooching, that is.

Labels: doodles, movies, pie

First in...


First out...

Labels: doodles

Conversation with the Tweedle Twirp and her pregnant friend, kids playing nearby.
Me: And so then I got dressed for the party [my grandfather's 90th birthday party in Miami in July]. I was eight months pregnant and something just didn't look right. I called the Tweedle Twirp in and said, "What is wrong with this outfit? The shoes look all wrong. I've been wearing them for a year now and they looked fine. Why do they look so weird now?" Tweedles evaluated me for a good long while before she finally said, "Well, they looked better when you still had ankles." "Ankles!" I said. "That's it!"
The next night, I overheard Doodles talking to his friend J.
Doodles: Did you know that when women get pregnant, they lose their ankles?

*****

Pie: Mommy, how does Chrysanthemum know who's Christian and who's not?
Me: Chrysanthemum?
Pie: Yeah. How does Chrysanthemum know who to bring presents to?
Me: Like in the book?
Pie: Yeah.
Me: The mouse? Who doesn't like her name?
Pie: Um, I guess.
Me: Do you mean Santa Claus?
Pie: Yes! How does Santathemum Claus know who's Christian and who's not?
Me: Remember I told you, Santa Claus isn't real. Mommies and Daddies buy presents for the kids. Santa is made up, but it's not something we talk about with our non-Jewish friends. Santa isn't real.
Pie: I know!
Me: Okay.
Pie: So how does he know? Who's Christian and who's not?

Labels: doodles, holiday, pie

After dance class last Thursday:
Me: Doodles, as soon as we get home, you need to do your homework.
Doodles: Mom, do you know what I hear you say? [Puts up one hand and makes a quacking motion]. "Doodles. Blah, blah, blah, homework. Blah, blah, blah, homework. Blah, blah, blah, homework." [Puts up other hand and makes same talking motion] "Mom, can we stop talking about homework?" [Back to other hand] "Blah blah blah homework."

In the car, the kids were comparing notes:
Doodles: Do you know what Dad says all the time?
Me: No, what?
Doodles: Cheeses crises! [Say it outloud and you'll understand it]
Me, laughing: Yes, he does.
Pie: And dammit!

Labels: doodles, pie

We subscribe to The Week magazine, and this week's came today, with a picture of Obama and Karzai on the cover, emblazoned with the headline "Shotgun wedding."

With nary a stumble, the boy took a look at it. "What's a shotgun wedding?"

I started up with a brilliant move. "Um.... Um.... Um.... What?"

Doodles: "What's a shotgun wedding?"

Me: "Um. It's... Well... Um..."

Doodles: "Yes?"

Me: "You know how today all sorts of people have babies? Women by themselves, two women, two men?"

Doodles: "Yeah."

Me: "Well, it was different in the old days. In the old days, there was this idea that if a woman got pregnant without being married, that it was a bad thing. So if a woman got pregnant and she wasn't married, the idea goes, the woman's dad would make the man who got the woman pregnant marry her. It was like he took a shotgun and pointed it to the guy and said, 'Marry my daughter or I'll shoot you.' That's a shotgun wedding."

Doodles: "Well, what if there wasn't a guy? What if she had just gone to the sperm bank?"

Me: "Um, that's a good point."

Doodles: "And I don't understand what that has to do with Obama! Why is Obama going to have a shotgun wedding to that guy?"

Me: "Well, it means that he's being forced into a relationship he may not want with that guy, Karzai, the president of Afghanistan."

Doodles, thinks a moment. "So why is Obama having a wedding?"

To which I give the age-old response: "Who wants dinner?" And I hid the magazine.

Labels: doodles, politics

When we were in Israel, we had an amazing youth counselor, Miriam. Miriam is a warm American-born, Israeli-raised Orthodox young woman. She's visiting the Boston area, staying with her grandparents and I invited her over for lunch. I went to the Stop and Shop in the next town over, where there's a kosher bakery. I picked up fruit and paper plates and plastic cutlery because, as any reader of this blog knows, we don't keep a kosher home. If anything, we keep treif. Not that we eat it that often--for health reasons I actually like to serve as little meat as possible. I can't remember the last time we had pork. Actually I do. It was Adam's birthday. Last December.

Because Miriam is studying Jewish education in America, I invited her to observe one of the Hebrew school classes at our conservative synagogue. So after, she said hi to the kids and followed us in her own car back to our house. In our car, Doodles asked me, "Is Miriam kosher?"

"Yes," I replied.

"So does that mean we'll be having a kosher lunch?"

Between our synagogue, our trip to Israel, dinners at our rabbis' houses, and hosting a synagogue event at our house, the boy is well aware of the basic tenants of kashrut. "Yes," I said, and he asked no more.

Back at the house, Miriam and I sit down and start to catch up while we wait for Adam to return with Starbucks (which is kosher). Doodles walks into the family room where we're chatting. Sweet as can be, he gives us a big smile. "Mom?" he asks nicely.

"Yes, Sweetie?"

With a big grin, he asks me, "Where's the bacon?"

That kid. That's all I can really say. That kid.

Labels: doodles

Today I made it into Doodles's classroom to help with pumpkin carving. Luckily most of the class was back--for the past week most kids have been out sick. Well, maybe not most, but half. Literally (and we know I don't mess around with the word "literally"). Out of 18 kids and 2 teachers, yesterday 9 kids and 1 teacher were out sick. Can anyone say "Treyf flu"?

But going into the class was really fun, even if Doodles does act up specially for me. The kids drew their own designs and I carved them onto the pumpkin for them. While we were working (other parents were there too to help), the teacher put on some Halloween music. Irresistible Halloween music. There was no stopping anyone from getting up and shaking a tush, to the point that by the end, the teachers were teaching the kids how to do the dance to "Thriller."

The song stuck in my head, and when we got home, against my own better judgment, I decided to show the "Thriller" video to the kids. I know it's scary, but, hey! The kids are in our bed anyway. Might as well have some fun with it.

Tab is over and so I gathered them around the computer and YouTubed it for them. Big mistake. Not because it was scary. But because the questions came fast and furious. "Why is his arm falling off? How was he a person and then he was a dead and then he was a person again? Why are they chasing her? I don't understand--is he a person or is he dead?"

And the questions haven't stopped. So, yes, "Thriller" was scary. But only for me.

Labels: doodles, pie

I've been getting grief from my father (hi, Peter!) for not blogging. I'm not completely sure why I'm not blogging, but I haven't. Part of it is that I am writing, just not for you. I've been working steadily away on my novel. I'm at a rough place in it at the moment, not sure if it's all gelling together. I need to just plug away at it. Part of it is also that I've lost that snark factor. Now that I have kids, I feel like I can't let my bitch out. It's one thing to alienate my friends; it's something else to alienate my kids' friends. But I go through this blogging crisis about once a year and the fact is that it's been eight years I've been doing this, which is longer than I've done almost anything else in my life. The only thing more consistent in my life is Adam, as I've been with him for almost ten years. But I've never lived in a single place for eight years. I've never had a job for eight years. Eight years is something to be reckoned with, so here I am.

And right now is my writing time. I should be working on my novel. But my darling daughter pulled the old "I'm healthy but now you can't send me to school" trick. Last night the boy was trying to get out of homework. Pie had just gotten home from a playdate and was cranky, but nothing out of the ordinary. But the boy! Oh the moaning, the groaning. "I can't do my homework! My head hurts! I'm sick!" I feel his forehead.

"You're fine," I tell him.

"Nooooo! I'm sick! Take my temperature."

Which I dutifully do. And he's a lovely 98.4. Pie is standing there. "Shall we take your temperature, too, while I'm standing here?"

She agrees and I take her temperature. 102.5. I do a double take and take her and his temperature three more times, certain something is wrong with the thermometer. But no, she's sick. Just doesn't seem like it other than a cold.

So now I'm sitting on the couch as she overdoses on TV. We started with High School Musical: "The girl with the lipstick and the sparkly shirt, who's hanging with the boy? That's who I am. What's her name? Gabriella? That's who I am. I the character of her and the person of her [meaning Vanessa Hudgens]." Now we're on to Berenstain Bears. She's anxious to go out--because of course she's had no fever all morning--but I can't in these panic-y swine flu times take her anywhere where there might be children, so she's won the TV lottery for today. Given Pie's Law of Health, she'll be chipper and happy all day, till about 5 p.m. when her fever is guaranteed to return.

In the meantime, I can leave you with just a few of the things that have been keeping me away from the blog:

For the first time, we built a sukkah. We have our lovely remodeled house, with an ample backyard and a place to store the sukkah in the off-season. So it was time. "What size should we get?" Adam asked me.

I looked over the Sukkah Project web site. "I think we should get the easy snap together kind."

"That's ridiculous," I was told. "It has to be made with lumber. Or else you're just cheating. What size?"

"Um, 8 by 12 should be fine."

"No, too small."

"Okay, 12 by 10."

So what does he order? 12 by 16. We need a bigger table to fill it, but it was nice as we hosted Shabbat and two kid-oriented meals in the sukkah. I'd show you pictures of Adam and Doodles building the sukkah, but somehow I've misplaced all my September photos.

The rain finally took a long enough break to get to apple picking. We went nice and early on Columbus Day to beat the crowd. We arrive, and I go to buy the small bag to fill. "We'll fill that in no time. We need a bigger bag," Adam insists (are you seeing a theme here?). So we get the bigger bag. Only Pie loses interests and she and Adam wonder off leaving me to haul around a honking big heavy bag of apples that I still haven't used up.





Recognize that player in the blue fleece? I got so confused when I saw her out there, given that last year, that was the boy's fleece, so I kept thinking I was looking at him. But that girl really held her own and did just great. The boy is amazing, how much he's improved since last year. Poor Adam: Doodles made the advanced beginner's group, which meets from 8:50 to 9:30 and Pie is in the beginner's group, which meets from 9:50 to 10:30, so he gets to spend his entire morning at the rink, while I'm off running. That's what you get for saying, "Oh, hockey and the early, cold hours at the rink don't bother me."

And now, now it's time to be a Mom again. To change the channel and make princess soup for Pie and to bake my next apple creation: Spiced Caramel Apple Upside Down Cake. Perhaps I'll try to sneak in a bit of noveling today. You never now.

So, yes, I'm still here. At least for the time being.

Labels: adam, doodles, pie, writing

We played Two Truths and a Lie at dinner tonight. We were having a nice dinner, as the day actually wasn't bad at all. For my turn:

Me: Today I saw M.'s mom at the YMCA when I went to workout; today I went to Starbucks to have coffee because no one made me any coffee at home; today I returned two SIGG bottles to Whole Foods.
Pie: SIGG bottles.
Adam: M's mom.
Doodles: Starbucks.

Starbucks was the logical answer, as Adam conveniently left early to go to the gym, but didn't set up the coffeemaker for me. And I don't make coffee. Just don't. Don't know why. Just don't.

Me: Doodles is right.
Pie: So you didn't have coffee at Starbucks?
Me: No.
Pie: Then where did you have your coffee?
Me: Nowhere. I didn't have any coffee today.
Doodles: Oooh! That's why you were cranky today!

Labels: doodles, pie

Adam's out of town, off on the Left Coast, so here I sit with my wine, my Project Runaway, and my slow-ass laptop. ("Where's your laptop?" I asked him on the phone. "My work laptop?" "No, your at-home laptop." "Yeah, my at-home work laptop. It's right here. With me. In San Francisco." We don't say, "A-hole" in our house, so I won't say it. But I might think it.)

We've been having a rocky few weeks here. Pie has been struck with terrible separation anxiety. It came out of nowhere and has hit with a vengeance. "Mommy, don't go running! Mommy, don't go to your meeting! Mommy, I don't care what you're doing; let me in that bathroom with you right now!" Taking her to school is downright painful. Doodles always started his school years with tears, but his response was "I don't want to go to school!" In those days, I was still working, so it was easy to say, "Sorry, kiddo, you gotta go. Mommy's on a deadline." But now that I'm not working, it's so hard to resist that little crying face. Although it's different with Pie. She says, "Mommy, I want to go to school; I just want you to stay with me!" The first few days were really tough for her but now it's a few minutes of crying, pleading, and grabbing onto me at the drop-off, but then she has a great day.

Today, though, we had a great start to the day. The kids were agreeable, dressing quickly, eating a nice breakfast, cleaning their rooms. A friend drove Pie to school, and she went willingly (and did have tears, but, bonus!, I wasn't there to see them). Lovely, lovely. I ran errands. Bought more books that no one needs, because I'm a total sucker for books. Got the boy a new lunchbox because at the beginning of the year I told him he couldn't have a new lunchbox or backpack because the ones from last year were still in good shape and we reuse, reuse, reuse! And then I smelled last year's lunchbox. Hence the new one he got today. Went to Sephora where they clearly saw "Easy Mark," which was apparently tattooed on my forehead (note to self: not a good idea to walk into Sephora and say, "Um, I know nothing about skin care or makeup. Can you make the spots on my face go away?")

After school, Pie had a playdate with a friend (actually a classmate of Doodles's with whom she gets along really well; my precocious preschool monkey hanging out with the first grade girls). To keep Doodles from interfering, I invited Tab over to play with him.

Tab and Doodles wanted to do some experiments. I was not up for experiments. I let them fill up a bowl of water. They put it on the kitchen counter and I had orders not to touch it. In a few minutes, they came back.

"Look!" Doodles said. "There's a bubble in it now!"

"Wow!" said Tab. "You know what that means?"

"It means that Camelbocher is coming!"

Yes, Camelbocher. At least that's what I heard. I have no idea what that means. I went about my own business. Pie and her friend ventured downstairs to join ranks with Doodles and Tab. Periodically they'd check the water, make exclamations, and then run back to the front porch.

So I decided to have some fun. While they were out on the front porch, I pulled out my food coloring. And I dropped in a bit of green. Back they came.

"It's green!!!" Doodles shouts.

"It's green?" Tab comes running in. "Do you know what that means?"

"It means Camelbocher is approaching with his armies!" By now Doodles is armed with his sword. "We need to wait!"

"Okay, but if it turns black, it means Voldemort is coming!" Tab says. At least that name I recognize.

And that's it! No, "How did that water turn green?" No, "Okay, that's weird." No, "Mom, what did you do?"

They checked the water a few more times. Still green. So the next they go out, I swap the green water for yellow.

Pie and her friend come in. "How did the water get to be yellow?" Pie asks. I shrug.

Doodle comes back. "It's yellow! It's yellow!"

Tab yells, "Voldemort is coming!"

"No!" Doodles yells, "It's Camelboch and his armies. They're coming from Florence Street!"

I make the water black next.

Meanwhile, Pie is starting to truly become scared. So I clue her in. "Look, Pie!" I swap the black water for purple water. "See?" She sees. She laughs. And then she is scared again. "What are you scared of?"

"Camelbocher's army is coming!"

"No, it's not!"

"It's true! The water turned purple so that's what it means!"

Finally after about two hours, Tab finally says, "How did that water change colors?"

Doodles starts with his theories. "There must be chemicals in the air and the water is reacting to them and it changes the color of the water."

"Maybe," Tab responds, "our magic spell really worked and it changed the color."

I'm having a hard time not laughing.

"I think there are chemicals in the bowl," Doodles says, "and that makes the color change."

By now I am laughing. Tab sees me. "Maybe your mom did something to the water?" she says suspiciously.

I give her a little nod.

Doodles says, "I think there are things in the bowl that react to the water."

I pat him on the arm and point to Tab. "What?" he says. I continue to point. "So let me tell you my theory! Chemicals around us are falling into the water and the stuff in the bowl--"

"What about Tab's theory?"

"But I'm giving my theory!"

"But Tab's theory is right."

"How do you know?" he asks.

I walk over and pick up my bag of food coloring. "Because I changed the color."

"Ohhhhhhh!" he finally says.

That's my boy. Full of theories. No facts necessary to back them up. I see an MBA in this boy's future!

And now? Now I finish my wine. I finish my Project Runway. I use my new bajillion dollar face cream. I curl up with the new book I bought for myself today. And prepare to start all over again tomorrow.

Labels: doodles, me, pie

Getting ready for bed, Doodles tried to pull down Pie's underwear.
Pie: Doodles! Stop that!
Doodles: Ha ha! I just saw your butt gutter!

In the timeless tradition of my father, we do Quiz Questions at dinner. Tonight:
Me: What's the next holiday coming up?
Pie: Yom Kippur!
Me: And what do the grown-ups do on Yom Kippur?
Pie: Um... fashion!

We occasionally give hints. Because sometimes the answers are off. The past few times, I've asked...
Me: Who's the vice president?
Doodles: Bill Clinton!
Me: No!
Pie: George Washington!
Me: No!
I give the hint every time, using the name of a local restaurant chain. So tonight when I asked, they wanted a hint.
Me: Who's the vice president.
Doodles: Give us a hint!
Me: No! We've done this too many times before. You shouldn't need a hint anymore.
Pie: I know! It's... Not Your Average Joe Biden!

Labels: doodles, pie

The end of summer comes later for our family than most--our school system has the arcane rule that school starts the Thursday after Labor Day (and the Monday after Labor Day for kindergartners). So this year, Labor Day was as late as it can possibly be, meaning the first day of school for Doodles was one week ago and Pie didn't start start till this past Monday. (well, really Tuesday--Monday was a split session day). I actually didn't mind having the kids home. Yes, they make me insane. But I can (generally) deal. But I hate our school's system because everyone else is done with school at the year end almost a full month earlier. Our last day of school for the coming year is June 23... if there are no snow days.

At the beginning of the summer, I made a long list with the family of things we were going to do over the summer. I was sad that much of the list didn't get accomplished. I wanted to go to Portland (Maine, that is). Pie wanted to go to an art museum. Doodles wanted to do science experiments. Adam had listed kayaking and napping in the backyard.

But there was a fair amount on the list that, when I think back, we did achieve. Between Memorial Day and Labor Day we:

**went letterboxing twice--Pie really enjoyed it and the kids designed and I made their own stamps. On our second time doing it (during our camping trip--more on that later), Pie was a real trooper, dealing with missing boxes, a mom who got her lost, mosquitoes, and finally finding the box as it was beginning to get dark out.

**visited a butterfly place. True, it wasn't the one Pie originally wanted, but we went to the butterfly garden at the Museum of Science and she was pretty happy about that. We made about three or four trips to the museum this summer.

**attended a science program (Doodles) and gymnastics camp (Pie). Doodles spent a week at Club Invention, one of the coolest camps ever. He got to take apart a machine to make a new one (he created the Stopinator 3000, a device for stopping Pie when she's about to attack him), make up a new superhero, and work with a team to make a land sled. Pie tumbled and trampled and tally-ho'd through two weeks of gymnastics camp.

**saw some tall ships.

**write a novel (me). I'm about 3/4s of the way done. All I need is for school to start to finish.

**turned a boy into a fish (the boy swims! the boy swims!).

**picked raspberries.

**visited Storyland.

**had our annual 4th of July party and rode in the 4th of July bike parade.

**attend a baseball game (the Red Sox for Doodles and Adam; the Pawsocks for the entire family).

**tried out--and loved--camping. We went with Jasmine's family for a single-night camping trip. Headed out to Harold Parker State Forest, which was perfect. Close, had swimming and fishing and hiking in the campground. Nice playground. Yes, a lot of rain, but I was able to completely overdose on roasted marshmallows, so really, it was fine. The only downer was that the boy's fishing was cut short. That and the fact that Pie and I were seriously covered from head to foot with mosquito bites. The two of us scratched for two solid weeks.

**swimming time at the Res and at the pools friends invited us to, ran some races (okay, just me, but I ran about six of them), had invention time with boxes and recycled materials, bike riding time in the street, playdates and games and books and general fun.

So that's it. Time to put summer to a close. The weather has turned distinctly fall like. On a walk this morning, Pie started picking up bright red leaves. I'm preparing for our Rosh Hashanah dinners and we've just received our Sukkot kit to build our very own sukkah for the first time.

Onward to fall. L'shana tova!

Labels: adam, doodles, me, pie

There's a loose connection in my boy's head. He's just, well, doing this strange little thing. His latest:

Doodles: Pie, look! I'm going to punch myself in the wiener!

At first I found myself scolding, "We don't punch ourselves in the private parts!"

Now I've resigned myself to, "Go to your room until you're done punching yourself in the p*enis!"

I sent him there about ten minutes ago. He hasn't emerged. But I do hear coming from his CD player--and he's singing along--to "Eye of the Tiger."

Oy.

Labels: doodles

The boy has been asking for a pet pretty much since he learned to speak. It's not going to happen. I'd be more than happy to get a cat, but my mother is deathly allergic and Adam himself gets the sneezies around them. I'm not a dog person. Not even a little bit. I could probably handle having a dog in the house, except that we all know I'd be the one taking care of it. And that's not going to happen. We've considered the guinea pig/fish/hamster route, but frankly, it just seems like a lot of work for a pet that's not going to give much in the way of cuddly fun back. And so, you guessed it, that's not going to happen.

You can imagine Doodles's glee when his California friend, T. Rex, sent him Sea Monkeys for his birthday. A pet, at last! One the whole family could be satisfied with!

He eagerly put in packet one and waited 24 hours for the water to purify, asking approximately every 12.9 minutes, "Is it twenty-four hours now?" He put in his packet of Sea Monkeys, and waited for them to hatch. They did so early, which caused a little concern on the boy's part, but he got over it.

Doodles: Mommy, I need to go talk to Tally.
Me: It's dinner time. What do you need?
Doodles: I promised I'd tell her when the Sea Monkeys started to hatch!
Me: Okay. You can do it quickly.
Doodles: Can she come see them?
Me: Just for a moment. You need to have dinner.

Doodles runs across the street to retrieve a very excited Tally. As they walk into the house, I overhear them talking...

Doodles: They're really cool!
Tally: What do they look like?
Doodles: They look like sperm! Only a lot bigger.

Nothing like a kid who tells it like he sees it!

Labels: doodles

Tonight we have a guest blogger. Readers, I give you Doodles:

i'm not yor sarvint.

(Translation: I'm not your servant.)

Labels: doodles

Me: So what's today?
Doodles: Sunday.
Me: Any significance to it?
Doodles: No.
Me: Nothing at all special about today?
Doodles: I got lots of presents.
Me: How come?
Doodles: Because it was my birthday.
Me: Oh, so it was special?
Doodles: Yeah.
Me: How old are you?
Doodles: Six!
Me: That's pretty old. How did you get to be six?
Doodles: It's my birthday today, so I am six.
Me: What's different about six than five?
Doodles: Six you're going into first grade and five you're going into kindergarten. Is the interview over?
Me: Not yet. Any other differences?
Doodles: No.
Me: Six is the same as five?
Doodles: Sort of.
Me: What's your favorite thing to do these days.
Doodles: Be a spy.
Me: Anything else?
Doodles: Nope.
Me: What do you want to be when you grow up?
Doodles: A spy.
Me: And grand pronouncements for the world?
Doodles: What?
Me: Any grand pronouncements?
Doodles: I wish everything was for free.
Me: Why?
Doodles: So people could just get what they want and poor people would be able to buy stuff. Is it done now?
Me: Yes. Happy Birthday, Baby.

Labels: birthday, doodles

Labels: doodles

At camp family night I was chatting with one of Doodles's counselors.

Me: He seems to be making friends, no?
Counselor: Oh, yes. He does very well here.
Me: I've heard a couple of names at home. I'm actually pleasantly surprised that he plays as much with the girls as the boys.
C: Oh those girls adore him.
Me: Yeah?
C: Every week they come to me. "Oh, Doodles is so cute! You need to give Doodles a blue ribbon this week for being the cutest boy!"

At that moment one of the said girls passes by.

Girl, to Doodles, with big grin: Hi, Ticklish Boy!

Uh...

Labels: doodles

Growing up, my father played Quiz Questions at dinner with me and my sister, although the game quickly became known as "Quiz Questions Me First!" because that's what we'd shout out as soon as he sat down. The questions would be current events or history or science or whatever, such as "Who discovered the theory of relativity" or "Count to ten in binary numbers." One of my mother's great pet peeves in life is that my father loved to ask us geography questions, but he never used a map or globe to show where he was asking about. To this day, the only reason I remember that the capital of Ecuador is Quito is because of "Quiz Questions Me First."

This weekend my parents were in town, and my father started discussing geography with the kids. Only we don't own a globe. We tend to use maps on the computer, but it doesn't give the kids a real sense of perspective on where things are. Yesterday morning, we took a trip to the Museum of Science before we brought my parents to the train station so they could head home. Lo and behold, my mom spotted in the gift shop a globe, which my father then purchased for the kids.

This morning, the kids were playing their own version of geography. Doodles would ask Pie a question and she's randomly spin the globe as fast as she could and point.

Doodles: I got one for you, Pie! Where's Israel?
Me: Can you find Israel?
Doodles, with a sigh: Yes, Mom!
Pie spins the globe with a quick jerk and then just sticks her finger out.
Doodles: No, Pie. That's South America. Where's Israel?
Pie spins again and points.
Doodles: Nope. That's Hawaii.
I look over. Sure enough Pie has her finger planted in the Pacific Ocean in the general vicinity of Hawaii.
Me: How do you know that's Hawaii?
Doodles: I just know!
I can't figure out if he knows where things are or if his reading has improved that much, but either way, who am I to complain?

Doodles eventually gives up--Pie clearly has no interest in playing his way--and Pie just continues to spin this apparently amazing top.

Pie: Mommy?
Me: Yes?
Pie: Is it going to glow?
Me: Glow.
Pie: Yeah, glow.
Me: Um, no. It doesn't glow.
Pie: Then why is it called a glow-b?

She'll do okay, even if she doesn't know where Israel is.

Labels: doodles, my family, pie

Labels: doodles

I'm putting Doodles to sleep in his room. We're about two-thirds of the way through Harry Potter. Adam is putting Pie to bed--in our room, of course. The rooms are, oh, twenty feet away from each other. Pie, the delicate flower that she is, let's one rip.

Pie: Oooh, stinky!
Adam: That's what happens when you toot. What do you say?
Pie: It wasn't me. It was Doodles.
Adam: No, it wasn't. It was you. Say "Excuse me."
Pie: It was Doodles.

I think she's training for a career in politics.

Labels: doodles, pie

Ah. The end of one of those days. You know, those days. Those days when all you can do is say, "It's 8:20 p.m. and both my children are still alive." It may not sound like much of an achievement, but it's all I've got today, and I'm pretty darn pleased. Because the little one came this close to being throttled. By her own mother.

The day started well enough--I had a pleasant run with a friend. I felt good. Ready to tackle my novel. Got home. Took a shower. I had a teeny tiny, itty bitty little blood blister on the very tip of my nose. Got out of the shower and it was bleeding. I know, exciting stuff. Except that it wouldn't stop and I had to put a band-aid on it. On the tip of my nose. To wear all day. On my nose. The tip of it. A band-aid. And when I told Adam, "Must be cancer," all I got was, "Must be a blood blister." He has this crazy idea: "If you hear hooves, think horses, not zebras." Which is wrong. When you hear hooves, think cancer.

But this is not about my hypochondria. This is about keeping my children alive. Which I did! Even though my daughter did everything she could to push me. I picked her up from camp with a plan. We'd hit the farmers' market. Then over to ballet class. Then a quick trip home to put together the food from the farmers' market to take to a picnic at Doodles's camp's family night.

Ah, a plan? Did I say a plan? Ha! Pie decided she wanted to show me how she can use the monkey bars, so I figured we could do that and still squeeze in a trip to the market. Pie showed me. Her ability on the monkey bars? She can place her hands on two bars and then drop. Whoo hoo! A few friends were on the playground, so she wanted to stay. Fine. She can stay. We can make it a very fast trip to the market after ballet class.

When it's time to leave, I get the first hint of Pie's evil twin, Tart. The clingy, whiny Tart. We head to ballet class. Now, this girl loves ballet. Lives for ballet. But suddenly we arrive at ballet, and she doesn't want to go. Well, not exactly. She doesn't leave the car, but doesn't say she wants to go home. In fact, when asked, she claims she does want to go ballet. I get her into the class, only she refuses to go in. Fine. We'll leave. But she doesn't want to leave. Won't stay, won't go. My voice is getting that edgy anger us moms get when we're furious in a public place. I really don't care if she does ballet or not, but I'm not going to sit in the waiting area with her while the class is going on. So we leave. And we drive two blocks when she announces she really does want to go to class. So I pull over. I get her out. And, yes, I'm angry. And I walk her back to class. We don't even make it through the front door when she's pulling me back to the car. So we get into the car. And ten minutes later, she starts screaming, "I want to go to ballet! I want to go to ballet! Turnaround! Turn the car around! I want to go to ballet!" And of course, we're all done with ballet. But not with the screaming. The screaming lasts for a full hour.

So we go home. And thank goodness for Beetle, because I called her up and told her she needed to take my child before I left her on a street corner in a box with a note that reads, "Free to a Good, Decent, Clean Any Home."

And damn, if Beetle didn't walk in to find my daughter on the floor screaming. And within seconds, Tart/Pie was up and acting like her charming self. "Today I made a fish bank! And look, here's my sand castle. I glued and put sand on. Mommy, made blueberry cereal bars. Do you want one?" A different child. So with the child safely ensconced with Beetle, I headed solo down to family night. With no farmers' market goodies. I searched the house for dairy goodies (Jewish camp--no meat allowed), and I ended up with lots of veggies and quesadillas made with American cheese. Mmmm!

On the highway. I leave at 3:45, which is cutting it a little close for the 4:15 start, but I shouldn't be too bad. Except for the traffic. Which is bad. So very, very bad. So bad that I finally arrive at the camp at 5:17. Luckily, Adam got there about twenty minutes earlier, and of course lots of folks got caught in the traffic. The family night was great and Doodles really belted out the camp songs during the performance. I even forgot for a second that I have a huge band-aid right on the tip of my nose.

And then we get home. Pie is happy to see us, excited because Beetle gave her some hand-me-downs from Tab. Can you count to five? Quickly? Because that's how long it took for Tart to return. And she went down screaming. And then giggling. And now screaming again.

Me: What was up with your behavior today?
Pie: I was tired. It's because I don't take naps anymore. [She hasn't taken a nap in well over eighteen months]
Me: Oh?
Pie: Yes, I should take naps again. I need to take naps
Me: Okay, I'll cancel your playdate tomorrow so you can come home and take a nap.
Pie: Noooooo! I don't need a nap!

I repeat. It's 8:20. My children are alive. Give me a freakin' medal.

Labels: doodles, meltdowns, pie

My son came home from camp and announced it was "wicked fun." Yikes. I swear, the second "wicked pissa" comes out of his mouth, I'm packing him up, putting him on a plane, and moving him to the Midwest. If there are any families in the Midwest who speak proper English who'd like a fairly well-mannered, occasionally ornery, Bakugan-obsessed almost six year old, let me know!

Labels: doodles

At 4 a.m. a little voice spoke into my ear. "Mommy, my head hurts and I feel heavy." A few cuddles and a Motrin, later, the boy was fast asleep. Luckily, he doesn't technically have a fever, a fever being 100.4 and when he woke, he had 100.3 (no, really!). The benefit of this being that he can have a sick day today, and as long as his temperature doesn't go up .1, I can send him to camp tomorrow guilt-free (kids must be fever-free for 24 hours before being allowed back at camp or school).

I think his body is just demanding a little downtime. It's been go go go for him. Camp is a loooong day for him. The bus picks him up at 8:30 and drops him back off at 4:30. Everyday he has Instructional Swim and Free Swim. Yesterday he had boating and dance and street hockey and music and a activity with his whole unit. I think he's plum worn out.

While it's disappointing to me when I lose a day of writing to a sick kid, it's not a big deal--not like I have a deadline or anything--and it's days like this that I feel downright giddy about not working anymore. A whole morning alone with my baby boy!

"What should we do?" I ask him.

"Um, I don't feel well." Doodles gives a little moan for emphasis.

Me: Well, we can play a game. How about Go Fish?
Doodles: I can't because I'm sick.
Me: Actually Go Fish is perfect when you're sick. Nice and mellow.
Doodles: No, we better not. Because then I'll get my germs on the card and when Pie plays with the cards, she'll get sick.
Me: Um, no, actually it's okay. We can play Go Fish.
Doodles: No, I don't think so. I need to do something I can do from the couch.
Me: Okay, how about another game? We can play on the couch.
Doodles: Nah.
Me: Should we finish the Encyclopedia Brown book?
Doodles: I don't think so.
Me [with a hunch where this is going]: How about I pull out the colored pencils and our drawing pads. We can do some drawing.
Doodles: Um, too much energy.
Me: Do you have any ideas?
Doodles: No. Well...
Me: Yes?
Doodles: I suppose I could watch some TV.

Sigh. So while I may not get to work on my writing today (and, yes, I am writing! Just ask my poor beleaguered readers who have been so fabulous in giving me feedback. I actually have even more to send them, but I fear for their free time... I owe those three women more martinis than I can count at this point. I'm feeling optimistic about having a really solid draft done by the end of the summer), this is a good catch-up day--blog, order photos, all the things I can do on a computer next to a mopey child watching SpongeBob. (I told him, "This is a one time thing. I disapprove of SpongeBob. I will never record SpongeBob. I will deny allowing you to watch SpongeBob. Enjoy.") I will do all I can, without getting off the couch. Can someone please bring me the bonbons?

Labels: doodles

While it wouldn't be quite accurate to say summer has arrived to New England, we do finally have a day decent enough to sit outside. I'd be happy if it were a tad warmer--lower 70s would be perfect--but it's not raining at the moment and I'm happy to simply accept that. Our yard is finally in, and while the backyard is not-yet-suitable for walking upon, well, we're walking upon it anyway. We put down grass seed in the back and all this rain has washed a third of it away and the birds have gotten the another third. So our backyard currently looks like a failed Chia Pet. Lovely. I do appreciate the fact that the wireless connects in the backyard so I can play on the computer while Pie plays with her friend. The front we used sod on, which kind of depresses me, because it is the ultimate in suburban lawns. However we've got a lovely planting plan that will transform it into something romantic and inviting--we just need to wait till the coffers are refilled enough to afford all those romantic and inviting plants.

But summer it apparently is, and we had a lovely 4th of July and now both kids are at camp. I had a hard time sending Doodles to camp, putting him on a bus to be carted off with all these children who were about twice his size to go off to swimming and boating and ropes and T-ball on his own. Pie is at her preschool camp and she, in her spunky way, "LOVES IT!" while Doodles in his typical more subdued way "kinda likes" camp, but definitely enjoys it more than he would staying home. And me? Me, I've got a three and a half hour stretch in front of me every day. And while I am doing a bit of puttering and cleaning--finally getting the clothes Pie has grown out of out of the house, doing the grocery shopping and baking cookies for friends with a new baby--I am also working on the novel. I'm getting in a good hour a day of decent writing time. It's one of those things that I have a hard time starting, but once I get started, I have a hard time stopping. I find my thoughts frequently drift back to my characters and I'm trying to take notes at odd times so I don't forget ideas. It feels good to get back into a writing routine again. I've got three more weeks of kids' camp (maybe more!) so I hope to really get a solid portion under my belt. (I'd like to write "under my typewriter ribbon" but it's been too long since I've used one of those... Maybe "under my web camera"? as that's what's atop my computer.) I make myself a pot of tea (because, yes, it's been that chilly), sit at my computer, attempt to ignore Facebook and Twitter, and plug away. My novel readers are awesome and have been giving me great feedback, which I'm working hard to incorporate. Writing is a lot like exercise--when you're not doing it, you can't imagine doing so. But once you start, you simply can't stop.

So yes, the blog posts may be a bit more infrequent. But that's only because there's other writing to be done. Because it's summer time. And the writing is easy.

Labels: doodles, house, pie, writing

I'm blogging on Adam's computer. His work computer. Apparently. Although I don't get it. I called him because I couldn't figure out how to turn the computer on (yes, I know. I won't even go there). I was hitting some button but nothing was happening (turns out it was the WiFi switch. Not the power button):
Me: How do you turn on your computer?
Adam: My computer?
Me: Yeah.
Adam: What about your computer?
Me: I've given up on my computer. It's slow and the WiFi goes in an out [and let's be frank--it's upstairs and I'm downstairs].
Adam: Okay, but it's my work computer.
Me: Your work computer?
Adam: Yeah.
Me: How is that possible?
Adam: What do you mean?
Me: I mean I'm here. Your computer is here. You're at work. You have a computer there. How is this your work computer?
Adam: It's my work computer. For home. My home work computer.

Uh... okay. Whatever. I don't buy it, but if that's how he wants to play it, let me just say that this post is being brought to you by TripAdvisor.

I'm relaxing at the moment as my kids--somehow--play quietly on their own. We're on day 16 (okay, that's a guess, I lost count) of bad weather. I know the quiet won't last long, but for the second is good. I just had a long protracted "explaining" session with the boy (don't know how else to refer to it). It was one of those really roundabout things, too.

For my birthday last week, I received a bounty of goodness, including Carrie Fisher's book Wishful Drinking, which I'm thoroughly enjoying. Reading it, though, made me realize that my music collection is lacking in Paul Simon's earlier music, so I downloaded The Essential Paul Simon, which I'm currently listening, too. (Ah, "Kodachrome!" Will the song go the way of the film? First Polaroid, now Kodachrome.) Doodles complained about having to listen. "This isn't my kind of music. Can you please put on the Beastie Boys?"

Pie was into it, and the two of us were dancing in the kitchen to "Late in the Evening." I said to the boy, "You'll like this song. It's about boys getting into trouble!" His eyes widened as I put on "Me and Julio Down by the Schoolyard."

"What are they getting in trouble for?" he asked, fascinated. "Are they going to jail?"

"Just in the song. Um, I think they're getting in trouble for smoking."

"You can go to jail for smoking?"

"For smoking drugs." But then I wasn't sure, so I looked up the song and Wikipedia came to the rescue. Turns out the song is most likely about an arrest during an antiwar rally on a college campus. Which lead to "What's a campus" which lead into "What's an antiwar rally" which lead into "What's Vietnam" which then finally ended up at "What started the Vietnam war?" At that point I used a lifeline and called my father to explain it to him. I did attempt diplomacy, because while both my parents were antiwar, Doodles's grandfather on the other side actually fought in Vietnam.

So there you go. Reading Carrie Fisher can lead to the Vietnam War.

I'm enjoying this quiet. Yesterday was a bit hectic. Both kids had morning playdates. Doodles's went well, and Pie's eventually went okay, but there seemed to be a bit of confusion: Pie, the girl's mother, and myself all thought it was a drop-off playdate. No one, however, told the girl and she asked every few minutes when her mom was coming. The kids started playing exactly seven minutes before the mom came to pick the girl up. I really want to make a dig at the mom here, because I know she reads this (Hi, D!), but my mind is filled with Paul Simon and I'm not coming up with anything clever.

I was in uber-haus frau mode yesterday and I used up a batch of overripe bananas to make yummy strawberry-banana mini muffins. Only my boy and Pie's playdate don't like strawberries. So I made a second batch of banana mini muffins. And in a rare show of generosity, I spiked those muffins with a plethora of chocolate chips. Am I a cool mom or what? Of course the answer is "or what," as my son took one bite and announced, "I don't think I like chocolate anymore." Anyone want 48 chocolate-chip banana mini muffins?

To continue the haus frau theme of the day, I have a collection of fat quarters, which are large squares of cloth. At Pie's request (who by the way, has been calling me "Jenny" for months now, but in the past week or so has started calling me "Gin-tay") I made her a headband. But when I went to try it on her, she threw it across the room in a fit of something. She's been in a throwing mood lately.

So after a quick errand, I stripped the kids and let them loose with fabric paints. Doodles thought it was "boring" and he wasn't going to do it, but of course the minute Pie started, he was all over it. I made one for Adam and the kids spent about an hour working on their masterpieces. I then spent about an hour trying to get the paint off of them. Doodles still has some large streaks on his neck. I'm pretending he's just a punk rock kid because it's easier than cleaning him.

I planned a lovely family dinner for us--a quiche filled with our Boston Organics veggies--but a quick kid meltdown let me see the error of my ways, so it was a fast mac and cheese and off to bed for those two. The quiche was enjoyed by adults at a later hour.

And now, I'm going to read the final chapter of The Great Brain and then it's off to the library for the next round of books before our afternoon playdates. Exciting life, I know. But it's the only one I've got.

Okay, computer, I'm done with you. You may now go back to work.

Labels: doodles, haus frau, pie

Well, instead of ice cream and sprinkler parks, we celebrated the first day of summer with chicken soup and tea. Some summer weather. Happy summer.

Even though school didn't end till yesterday, Doodles had his end-of-year celebration last Thursday. I think he's a little sad the school year is over, but he's not talking about it. He's just been a little off these few days. It'll be hard to leave kindergarten--his teacher and the assistant were fabulous and Doodles has made such huge strides. He did a self-evaluation at the end of the year. He wrote the two things he learned in kindergarten were "read" and "write." The two things he is still working on are "write using spaces" and "keep my fingers out of my mouth." Of course, there are some downsides, too. We were introduced to the world of Bakugan. Think Pokemon. But more expensive. Way more expensive. Oh my goodness. Adam and I both have masters degrees. We both read those instructions about twelve times. Both of us have no idea how to play. Apparently, you need the mind of a six year old to operate these things.

On a random side note, Pie and I were listening to the album Celebrate Kids: Kids Kosher Cuts, and on it is a song called "Deli-ightful." It's about food. Kosher food. Pie says to me, "Mommy, I want to keep kosher."
Me: Okay. We can consider that.
Pie: Good.
Me: But you realize, if you keep kosher, you can't eat bacon or ham?
Pie: Why?!?
Me: Because they're not kosher.
Pie: Hmmmm. That's a problem!

Anyway, see the pretty picture of a cake? That was my contribution to the elementary school picnic cake walk and the final nail in the coffin that is my urban, cool life. I have officially given up all of my final vestiges of hipness. Just because I like to listen to "Modest Mouse," it only means I'm a suburban haus frau who listens to "Modest Mouse."

The Pie has discovered Barbies. She's been asking for Barbies for months, and finally for an end-of-school-year gift, I bought her a Barbie. And the, just a few days later, a big score. A Freecycle offer. Barbies. Two little bags of them. I managed to get them and we picked them up within twenty minutes of the item being posted. Pie is so happy. And I'm in a time warp. Because it was an older woman. Whose daughters are in their thirties. And it was their Barbies. Which means all these dolls are about twenty-five years old. We have the neon-colored "Rock" shirted Barbie with the big hair and the oversized earrings. We have the crocheted dress Barbie. We have the over-the-shoulder light blue chiffon dress Barbie. We have the Barbie accessories. Including the Walkman. The big Walkman. With strap. And plastic cassette. I tried explaining that one to Doodles.
Doodles: So when you were little, you listened to tapes on a Walkman?
Me: No,no! Not till I was much older. First when I was little I listened to records. Then I listened to eight-tracks. After eight-tracks, I started listening to cassettes. The Walkman didn't come till high school. And then when I was in college, I got CDs. And then, in the past few years, it was MP3s. You know. iPods
Doodles: Huh?
But Pie doesn't care about any of that. All she cares about is that she has Barbies. Lots and lots of Barbies. She has no interest in that one guy doll, but the rest is Barbie heaven. They now travel with us (maximum allowed out at any time, though, is two).

Which is good. Because apparently summer isn't coming to our neck of the woods. So it'll be Pie and Barbies. Doodles and Bakugan. Mommy and martinis. You know. Life as usual.

Labels: doodles, jewish, pie

Pie: Mommy, let's talk about piggies. I'll go first and then you go and then I'll go and then you go...
Me: Okay. Go ahead.
Pie: I like piggies when they're nice and they don't bite.
Me: I like piggies when they oink and snort.
Pie: I like piggies when they make good bacon.

And that pretty much stopped the conversation.

***

At dinner tonight, apropos of nothing
Doodles: Mom?
Me: Yes?
Doodles: When will I start making sperm?
Me: Um, uh. Puberty. So, what like thirteen?
Adam: Thirteen sounds about right.
Doodles: My body is already making sperm.
Adam: It is?
Doodles: The sperm are wiggling and moving all around me and that's why I can't stop wiggling.

Another conversation stopper!

Labels: doodles, pie

Me: Here, draw a picture for Father's Day.
Doodles: I don't want to.
Me: You're going to.
Doodles: Why do I have to do that?
Me: Because I'm the meanest mommy ever and I live to make you suffer. Did you know that?
Doodles: Yeah. I knew that.

Labels: doodles

Here I am. Me and my computer. Well, technically me and Adam's computer. My computer seems to be on its last legs. Or RAMs. Or whatever the hell it is computers have. Once upon a time, I was a tech savvy person. Those days are gone. I know how to operate my iPhone. I know enough to want a new iPhone. But that's pretty much it.

Of course, now that I'm having some good quality time with a computer, all I can think is, "Peach crisp is calling my name." Adam adds, "Nothing Pizza Hut makes is good. You should blog that." My father just called to tell me he sat next to Peter Greene on his plane ride to Miami. I, however, hadn't heard of Peter Greene before.

I've decided it's time to get back on the Weight Watchers wagon. Of course, now that I'm doing that, I'm obsessed with food. My BMI is actually in the healthy range right now at 23.3 But I'm anxious to improve my running PRs--so far I've signed up for six shorter runs (well, seven, but I've already run one) and I plan on signing up for a few halves--and the best way I know to run faster is to haul less weight. Runner's World has an article this month about avoiding aches and pains, and it said if you're doing longer runs, you really need to have a BMI lower than 21 to save your knees. I'm at that point of life that my knees need to be safeguarded. But that's not going to happen. I'd have to lose fifteen pounds to get to a BMI of under 21 and 1) really? and 2) I'd be a little bony. I'm not exactly a small-boned gal, and 3) really? So now I'm obsessing over the peach crisp in the fridge that I made for our weekend guests, but on 18 points a day, that's not happening. So--

Oooh! iPhone commercial! Shiny! Pretty.

Wait, where was I? Eh, there's nothing more boring than a person watching his or her weight. But it might slip in sometimes. Because there's nothing more obsessed than a person watching his or her weight. Did I mention the peach crisp? It is an exquisite peach crisp.

Of course, my son needs to be watching his weight. But in the other direction. The girl is solidly a pound heavier than the boy. That kid is a peanut. I measured both of them today: Doodles is 41" and 38 lbs. Pie is 38" and 39 lbs. (Does that make her more or less a square?) I still have him in his car seat in the minvan and he's been a real trooper about being the only kindergartner in a full car seat. In Adam's car we have him in a booster with a back. He's definitely a full year away from the backless booster unless he has a serious summer growth spurt (the rules for the backless are 4 years old, 40 inches, and 40 pounds). I'm ready to cave and put him in a booster with back in our car (he's more than big enough for that one. For that you need to be 3 years old, 38 inches, and 30 pounds). The five-point harness is the safest for as long as possible, but he's suffered long enough.

I'm cooking for the boy. I've been making magic out of our Boston Organics delivery (a home veggie and fruit delivery service). I've been putting my haus frau skills to the test. One night, we have zucchini, peppers, and yellow squash. I didn't want to make multiple meals. I peered in the fridge and we had cheddar cheese, salsa, green onion, and in the cabinet, I found a can of beans. So I made do-it-yourself burritos. But wait, tortillas? I didn't have any tortillas. So I made them. From scratch. In time for a family dinner. I was pretty impressed with myself. Of course, Pie refused to eat them.

Me: Look, Pie. Even Doodles is eating them!
Doodles: Yeah! They're good!
Me: See, Pie! They're great! They're even better than the store-bought kind.
Doodles: Well... I don't think I'd say they were better.

Why do I even bother? Okay, no more food talk. I've got to go and not think about peach crisp.

Labels: doodles, pie, running, sporty mom

Labels: doodles

For the first time, my baby boy is spending the night away from us. Okay, there was one other time, but that was the night that both Adam and I were at Beth Israel because I was giving birth to Pie. And the next night, Adam was home for him.

But tonight, he has his first out-of-the-house sleepover. I've assured him if he wants to come home in the middle of the night, he can. But here it is, pretty much middle, and he appears to be sleeping (he's at Tab's house across the street).

He seems to be adjusting well to this "big kid" life. I just wish I could say the same about me.

Labels: doodles

Doodles: So, will I go to Daddy's business school when I grow up?
Me: Well, it depends. You may not want to go to business school. You might want to do something else.
Doodles: Well, I need to go to business school to become a paleontologist.
Me: For paleontology, you'll go to a school that specializes in that, not business school. You'll need to study archeology and dinosaurs and biology and all sorts of stuff.
Doodles: So I'll find a school for that?
Me: Yep. Did you decide you'll be a paleontologist again?
Doodles: Yeah.
Me: So you don't want to be a doctor anymore?
Doodles: No. Doctors might have to touch sick people, and I wouldn't want to do that, because then I could get sick.
Me: Very wise.
Doodles: But if I'm a paleontologist, I'll have to travel to where the bones are and that would be bad because I want to be with my family.
Me: Maybe your family could come with you.
Doodles: Maybe.

Labels: doodles

(All of this is from last Friday)

Pie had pizza, salad, and a whoopie pie last night. Oddly enough, it was apparently the salad that gave her a stomach ache.

***

I have my own name plate and name tag for Adam's HBS 5 year reunion, in case I want to go to any academic presentations. The boy came in this morning wearing my name tag. "Monkey boy," he said to me, "you need to get ready for school!"

"Huh?" I said.

"Look," he said, pointing to his tag. "I'm Jenny Brown. Get ready for school!"

I laughed. "You, Mom, need to go drink your smoothie!"

He smiled sweetly and said to me, "Sorry, but you can't direct me, honey!"

***

Adam took twenty minutes to decide what to wear to the reunion academic presentations today. "Can I wear jeans? Kevin's dressed nicer. I should dress nicer. Should I wear khakis? I guess I'll wear khakis. I feel so funny wearing khakis these days. Maybe I should wear nice jeans? I'll wear the khakis." He puts on the khakis and a blue-and-white shirt. "Maybe I'll wear this tonight," he says, at which point I told him I had enough and he wasn't wearing a blue shirt and khakis to a friggin' cocktail party if I had to wear a freakin' cocktail dress. And then he told me to chill. And then I reminded him that all these events are optional for me and he quickly backed down.

***

Doodles announced that he wanted to go to the hardware store.

Me: What for?
Doodles: I need stuff for my invention.
Me: What do you need.
Doodles: Just plastic and wood.
Me: Nothing else?
Doodles: That's it.
Me: Do you have a plan for what you want to build?
Doodles: It's all in my head.
Me: What is it?
Doodles: I'm going to build something special! It's going to be a babysitting machine! And I'm going to make robots and they'll watch the kids. And then I'm going to make these helicopters the robots will use!
Me: Oh?
Doodles: Yeah! So can we go get my wood and plastic now?

Labels: adam, doodles, pie

The boy definitely had fun. Maybe too much fun. He's absolutely walking funny and it occurs to us it's been hours since he peed. Oops...

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

In the old days I couldn't make the tea cups at Disney spin fast enough. Now one ride on the Cuckoo Clockenspiel and am ready to puke. Aging at its ugliest.

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

Doodles said on the Twirling Turtles--as we're whipped around at top speed and his friend exclaims, "My stomach is all the way in my chest!"-- "I don't know how Dad can not like this!" Um, I might have an idea.

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

The Italian sausage and ice cream with sausages just after the Twirling Turtles and right before the Teacups may have been a mistake. Just sayin'.

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

Spotty service is foiling my posting plans. Doodles has two friends here, both girls, and they're fighting over who gets to sit next to him. Hope he doesn't get used to it. I took the kids on the Krazy Barn. Now I'm Krazy Nauseous. Ready to watch the freaky cats at the Hannaford Circus. Do you wish you were me?

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

Nothing like mediocre coffee in the morning to pump you up. Yea, Glen Junction breakfast! Or, as Adam says, it would be better called Ultimatum Point because every second sentence uttered is, "If you don't X, then no Storyland!" Children fortified with chocolate chip pancakes. Time to hit the park!

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

So normally I'd post all my brilliant and oh-so witty (let me have my delusions--at least until I get some coffee) comments on Twitter, but apparently I can now text posts to Blogger so I thought I'd give you guys minute by minute (sort of) updates of our exciting adventures in Storyland. Of course, you may not hear anything for a bit because the other family we're with isn't moving very fast. I just have to remind myself, not everyone can be a Brown. Although a girl can dream...

Labels: doodles, me, pie, vacation

I'm doing my best to ignore the shrieks coming from upstairs. The boy has his first sleepover tonight. Tab is here, not sleeping on the Aerobed in Doodles's room. I've gone up six times already and those kids, much as I love them, just aren't the sharpest crayons in the box. I've told them they don't have to go to sleep. They don't even have to try to go to sleep. They just have to whisper. That's it. But I keep hearing thumps and shrieks and squeals and gales of laughter. It's going to be a very long night.

So this blog has become somewhat of an issue. Throughout the week things happen and I'll think, "Oh, I've go to blog that!" But most of what I want to blog is about the stupidity of others. Really. I have such a low tolerance for stupidity. There was a time when I would have written with glee. When we first moved here and Adam entered business school, oh what fun I made and had with this blog! And make fun I did. Often. And it was fun. And I would often get called on it. I made a few enemies with this blog. And I reveled in that. Because what's the worst that could happen? I could cripple Adam's HBS-standing, thereby placing in jeopardy his career possibilities and making him a leper in his colony. No biggie.

But now, now it's different. I can't trash the PTO (which in my day was the PTA), mock moms, or make general scathing comments about my local community. Because I have children. I always knew that children would interfere with my drinking life, my writing life, even my sex life. But who knew they'd interfere with my blog life? Because it's one thing to alienate my husband's community and make a pariah of him, but it's another thing with the children. I don't want them to suffer for my sins. "Oh, you want to have a playdate with Doodles? The one whose mom drinks too many martinis and who called me an anal-retentive Attila the Mom? Sweetie, I have a better idea. Why don't we have Christopher over instead?"

So I swallow so much. I think that's what's making me gain weight. The snarky, biting comments are just festering in the bile of my stomach. But I still think the thoughts. I still daydream of an anonymous blog where I could talk about the cliques and mommy mafias around me. But I refrain.

However, next week, I'll have another outlet. It's Adam's five year HBS reunion. I'll see if the Corporate Wife training turned out any successful Corporate Wives. I'm sharpening my nails as I type....

Dumb question of the night: Adam just came in and asked, "Are they asleep?"

Um, duh. No. And they probably won't be for a few hours. Might be time to go up and flex those claws. Get them ready for next week. Grrrrr!

Labels: doodles, me

I volunteer every Wednesday in Doodles's kindergarten class. They're studying community helpers and talking about what they want to be when they grow up. For a couple of years, Doodles had said he wants to be a paleontologist. That's what he drew for his class last week.

Today, though, it's a different story.

Me: What are you drawing there?
D: A doctor.
Me: I thought you wanted to be a palentologist when you grow up!
D: I heard doctors make more money.

And there you have it.

Labels: doodles

From the "takes after his father" department:
Doodles had a playdate over, a girl from his kindergarten class, J. They were playing nicely, but at one point J. bumped her head and came to find me. Nothing serious, but I gave her an ice pack and yelled down to the playroom for Doodles.
Doodles: What?
Me: Could you please come up here?
Doodles comes upstairs.
Doodles: Whadda you want?
Me: Doodles, J. hit her head and is going to sit here for a minute with the ice pack.
Doodles throws up his arms and says: So, what did you call me up here for?

From the "in the vault" department [with a spoiler for Kofefim parents]:
At pick up from school, Pie and her teacher were whispering, and then the teacher said to Pie: Now, don't forget! It's a secret!
Pie: I know! Mommy, I can't tell you! It's a surprise!
Me: Okay.
Almost exactly one hour later.
Pie: Mommy, I made you a pin!
Me: What?
Pie: A pin! I made you a pin! You know, for mother's day!
Me: Didn't your teacher tell you to keep it a secret?
Pie: Yeah! So make sure you don't tell her that I gave it away!

From the "teen angst" department:
Doodles was clearly overtired and just having a rough time. He came downstairs with both his backpacks and tears in his eyes.
Me: Whatcha doing?
Doodles: I'm leaving.
Me: You're running away?
Doodles: Yes?
Me: But why?
Doodles, starting to sob: I don't want to move out. I have to move out. I can't live with all these rules!
Me: That makes me sad. What rules don't you like?
Doodles, sobbing heavily: All the rules! Like you make me make me eat energy food. J. gets a cookie in her lunch every day for snack. And I never get one! I want to eat junk food every day, too!

Labels: doodles, pie, quotes

Walking home from school today, Pie announced apropos of nothing, "When I grow up, I'm going to be a doctor!"

Me: What kind of doctor?
Pie: A marathon doctor! A racer doctor!
Doodles: There's no such thing!
Pie: No?
Doodles: There are four kinds of doctor. There's no marathon doctor.
Me: What are the four kinds?
Doodles: There are ambulance doctors, hospital doctors, office doctors, and come home doctors.
Me: What's a come home doctor?
Doodles: That's the kind of doctor who comes to your home.
Me: Oh.
Pie: I'm going to be an office doctor. A racing marathon office doctor.

Labels: doodles, pie

Everyday I ask Doodles what he did at school. And everyday he gives me the same answer: "I don't remember."

I was flipping through a parenting magazine (can't remember which one) and it had some ideas for conversation starters with kids. One of the things they suggested was the game Two Truths and a Lie. The game is pretty simple--you name two things that are true and one that's a lie and others have to guess which is the lie.

This game has completely revolutionized conversation with the boy. He loves the game, and we all go around the table to take a turn. He's actually gotten pretty good at the game (oh,yea! I'm teaching my child how to be an effective liar!).

But the thing is, Pie wants to play too. And Pie just doesn't get it.

Pie: It's my turn! My turn!
Adam: Okay. You go.
Pie [whispering to me]: What did I do today?
Me: [whispering back]: Why don't I go first so you can hear?
Pie [whispering]: Okay.
Me: Okay, so, um, let's see. I bought chicken taquitos at Costco. I watched Doodles and Pie get their teeth cleaned. And I watched an alligator at--
Pie: No!
Me: What? I'm not done!
Pie [shaking her finger]: Mama, you're wrong! You're wrong! There was no alligator. Remember? They said there was no alligator!
Me: We're playing the game. I need to make something up.
Pie: But you're wrong! Okay, my turn.
Me: Go for it.
Pie: Okay. [whispering to me] What did I do?
Me [whispering]: You went to the dentist. You went to Costco. You saw the animal show at the library.
Pie [whispering]: Right. [to the everyone] I went to the dentist. I went to Costco. And I saw animals at the library.
Me: You did all those things.
Pie: I know!
Me: One of those is supposed to be a lie.
Pie: What?
Me: You are supposed to make something up.
Pie: But I did do all those things!

I have one great liar. And one great talker. Why do I think both of these are going to bite me in the butt later?

Labels: doodles, pie

I love complaining about my children. You know that. I do it here all the time. And on Facebook. And Twitter. And IM to Adam. Complaining about kids is kind of like my hobby.

Until.

Until.

Damn that American educational system! The boy is actually reading! Reading, I tell you! Which is all fine and cute and dandy when he's picking up Mouse Tales or Beyond the Dinosaurs: Monsters of the Air and Sea .

But when he's standing next to my computer, asking, "Why did you write, 'It's... all... falling...a-a-pa-apart...here'?" well, it's not so cute anymore.

Why didn't we go Waldorf? They don't learn to read till seven. I would have had another year and a half of private IMs and Twitters and whatnot to complain about those munchkins....

Labels: doodles, school

Ah, Patriots' Day. The start of spring break. Five days. Me and my kids. At home. With four days of predicted rain. Fun all around!

Actually, I love Patriots' Day, as I attest every year. It's like 4th of July, but with jackets and better parades. We started out the day at the marathon. This year they were more enthusiastic about going than last year. Of course, stopping at Whole Foods to buy them both their own box of bunny snacks (cheddar for him; snack mix for her) that they weren't allowed to open till we got to the race helped tremendously. But we headed down to Framingham, and although we only saw one out of five friends who were running, it was definitely worth the trip. I'm determined that I'm not running another marathon this year, but watching those folks go make me doubt myself. "It wouldn't hurt to do one more this year, a nice easy fall marathon." Doodles was fine, coloring a poster, and Pie was fascinated, watching the runners go by. No matter how many times I told her it was not only okay, but encouraged, to use her "outside voice," she just watched. But for me, I love yelling at the runners, calling out folks as they run by. We stayed an hour, after we saw the slowest of our runner friends (and Pie loved the fact that out of the five runners we knew, the four women beat the guy by over an hour [sorry, Fishy, just telling it like it is!]. A big shout out to Ana-Maria, Sue, Sue, and Saskia for not just finishing the race but really taking it to a new level--two qualified for next year's race and the other two ran at speeds I can only dream about). When it was time to go, Doodles was ready, but Pie complained. "I want to see more runners!" then she asked, "I want to run marathons. Will you teach me how to run, Mommy?" Made my heart go, Zing! She's definitely my baby.

We swung by Adam's office to have lunch with him, which the kids adored. I'm not sure if Pie was more excited about lunch with Daddy or the chance to write on his white board, but she was thrilled. Then we headed back to Lexington. Pie was a little disappointed--"I want to see the runners again! Please can't we go back and see the runners again?"--but then when she realized where we were going, she perked up. The kids were in their true spirits. Doodles was in full negative tilt: "I don't want to go to a parade!" Pie was brimming with joy: "I love parades!"

Of course, toward the end, the temperature had dropped, the wind was blowing, and I asked, "Should we go?" and Pie said, "I'm ready," but Doodles said, "No! It's not over yet!" I have to learn to ignore everything that boy says and just make him do things, because he never wants to do anything and then always has a great time.

By the time we made it home, we were all exhausted and happy. Another successful Patriots' Day. Now to think about that next marathon. For me. And who knows? Maybe, one of these days, for Pie.

Labels: doodles, Massachusetts, pie, sporty mom