Flashback

So, in my last post, I took a look back at my very first blog post from May 2008 - which left me browsing through a few other early posts....

....and came across one where Boo, then 4, was having constant meltdowns and we were having some major power struggles.

Huh.

And then another one, where we were having daily battles about...yup...shoes.

Both topics are familiar to me, as I have the same conversations (and a few similar blogposts) about Pea.

Why I didn't remember this, I don't know. (Maybe its like childbirth - you forget the pain so that you do it again....)

Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. And here I am again. I feel cheated, as it SHOULD be easier this time around, shouldn't it?

But its not. So please, if you don't mind, pass me the Lexapro and a vodka tonic. Second time around is gonna be a rough ride.

First Day of School

The summer holiday passed so quickly, helped along by three weeks travel back to the US, but nonetheless, Boo and Pea were ready to head back to school and see their friends. I think we were all also in need of getting back on a regular schedule. (My lovelies need structure, which is seriously lacking in the summer....)

Boo is starting Year 2 (the US equivalent of first grade) and Pea is in Reception - which age-wise would be Pre-K in the US, although I'd consider what they do to be Kindergarden-level work.)

Boo is very excited as he is "in the top of Key Stage 1 - we're the biggies"; I think he is particularly excited, however, as Year 2 students get to carry their OWN meals to the table and they buy their own snacks from the Tuck shop at snack time - a good exercise in responsibility and money management.

Pea just looks - well - tiny.

My babies are growing up! (sniff, sniff)

oh, the pain....

I never learn.

Ever.

I love my kids, I really do. But take them through the double doors of ANY store wherein they will not be given toys, and they turn into creatures from the underworld.

Or something.

Pea is stuffed in the shopping cart seat (like me, she has delusions about how small she actually...isn't.)  Boo is walking alongside.  They are swatting at each other like zebra tails at a watering hole. Or...maybe more aptly, monkeys at the zoo. Complete with the bum picking, as Pea is constantly adjusting her underpants. I know. Charming...

I turn my back to get a box of cereal, and I hear a scream loud enough to crack open the eggs in the next aisle.

And its from my SON. Who was hit by my daughter. Because she got mad.
Because he pinched her.
Because  SHE TOLD HIM TOO.

Really, shopping with monkeys would be easier.

I'm trying, really I am. I've given them things off the list to help me look for.

We're playing "I Spy" to find other things on my list.

I'm letting Boo pick the fruit and veg, and Pea put things in the cart (which basically means she chucks them over her shoulder. Thank GOD she has good aim.)

I'm RUNNING through the refrigerated aisles (because its cold, and I'm developing a twitch in my left eye from the whining because of it.)

There is a reason I shop while they are in school.

Waiting another two weeks for groceries is not an option. (And for whatever reason, while back in Chicago I had no hesitation about going to the market at 10pm, here, taking the car out after dinner is just, well, an odd idea to me. Go figure.)

Until school starts, I'm going to be relegated to online shopping, and since I can't do the grams to pounds conversion in my head (ok, I can't do ANY math in my head since I've had my kids - which doesn't bode well for one with a degree in Finance) I'll have to accept that I'll end up with massive bags of carrots, and packages of chicken large enough to feed only Boo.

So in the meantime, if you hear me talking about taking the kids to the grocery store, to the pet store, or any place that contains a cash register (including restaurants) please - PLEASE - for the love of all that is holy, stop me.  Take away my keys. Bitch-slap some sense into my head.

Please.

The Joy of Motherhood

The best part about being a mom, to me, is getting to relive my childhood again. No, not through my children - that is what the mom's on TLC's show "Toddlers and Tiaras" - but with them. Hanging out with them on the playground. Dancing in the living room. (Boo particularly likes Billy Idol's "Dancing with Myself" on my iPod). Building sandcastles.

So I particularly delight in all the things that make Pea girly; more specifically, when she wears her Princess dresses. And as i've mentioned before, she wears them everywhere - to school, to play in, out to dinner - even to the Memorial Day parade today. She is working on the princess wave, too - nearly has it down.

So I was particularly delighted when on the last day of school, "dress up day", I saw this when I picked up Pea:

(Focus people: I'm referring to all the pretty princess costumes - and one Gabriella from High School Musical - not to the caged preschoolers.)

Every single girl in her class dressed up, and every last one of them was a Princess or Fairy (or movie heroine. Hey, Pea wears her princess dresses any old day - they aren't really costumes. She wanted to wear something special.)

There is something magical watching a little girl in her princess dress. The innocence, the fantasy, the glitter...I dunno. Whatever it was, it was delightful!

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So after their morning of fun and excitement, my friend Wendy and I thought we'd enjoy the gorgeous day and take the kids to the park for a picnic (a la Portillo's Hot Dogs drive thru). You know, the boys only had graduation that night - no reason not to take them out, get them hot, sweaty, stinky with sunscreen and dirt. (Huge Mom Fail, here folks. I'm just sayin'...)

So we took them to a park referred to as "Timbertown" - a giant fort/treehouse park, with a timber car, timber boat, and timber bridges. It was lots of fun, although Miss Petite kept getting stuck in the play pieces, shouting "Mama, COME. GET. ME. OUT! I's too showt."

She looks seriously irritated, doesn't she?

Mr. Imagination, on the other hand, loved the Timber Boat, and was barking orders to everyone on board as to what he was doing and where the boat was going. (Fortunately, no one fell overboard...)

All in all, it was a fun day for all the kids (and the moms, as we hung out and watched the monkeys run). Look at these red cheeks. Can my friend Wendy's children BE any cuter?

They had fun, but now we need to get these overtired, sweating bundles of kid home and into bathtubs, as tonight, you see, is graduation....

What MY kids do on a warm, sunny day.

Wahoo! The sun is shining! Its actually warm outside! "Hey kiddos, let's go outside to play!" I say. "Ok, Mommy - let's go!" they respond cheerfully.

In our garage, we have a plethora of toys: bikes, trikes, stomp rockets, sidewalk chalk, basketballs, soccer balls, Cozy Coupes - you name it.

What does my son play with?

The yard work toys.

He pulls out the broom, the rake and the hoe. He says he'll mow later.

He proceeds to get in a fight with Pea about the leaf blower. He wins possession, and walks the driveway, blowing imaginary leaves. (I'm assuming his imaginary brother, Kevin, will be bagging said leaves.)

He hoes the dirt in the beds into piles, then hoes them back. (I'm thinking about this time I should run out and buy some mulch, and put the kid to work.)

His paternal grandfather, Fred, a landscaper, would be so proud! I'm thinking of sending him out to work summers with Uncle Tickle Tom, who is also a landscaper. I think some genes were passed down here.

Not to be left out, Maddie dons the protective eyewear, even though she lost the battle for the leaf blower.

No mind, she prefers to hand prune the bushes, anyway.

19...20...Goo-goo-blah-blah

There is no "ready or not, here I come" in my house, when the kiddos play hide-and-seek in the basement. No, for some reason, they count to - well, whatever the chosen number is for that day, and then yell "goo goo blah blah". (Sounds like something from Seinfeld, actually.)

Don't ask, I don't have the faintest idea why. But it cracks me up.

Boo still has not grasped the idea of the game - he is the first to jump out when he's hiding, yelling "can't find MEEEE". Princess Pea giggles too hard - its not difficult to find her. Her favorite hiding place? Under the cube slide.

Mine, of course, is under the church pew. It takes some maneuvering to get myself under there, but its a great spot that they always forget to check. And I'm happy I can fit there!

And of course, "its not called Hide and Seek. Its actually called Tickle Monster, Mommy" corrects Boo. That is because once everyone has giggled and given themselves away, whoever is "It" chases the hiders and tries to catch and tickle them before they reach the "safe spot" - the bottom of the stairs.

For now, the screams of glee are too much to resist. I think its my turn to be Tickle Monster.

Goo-Goo, Blah blah!

Freedom Festival Fun

In honor of my adopted Marine, Orlando, last weekend I completed Barrington's 1st annual 9.11K run/walk with the help of Sam and Maddie (they provided the whining so I could save my breath). Yes, I pushed my 47 pounder and my 28 pounder in my 45 pound jogging stroller. No, I did not run the race (except for the occasional up hill). Yes, I did occasionally make Sam get OUT of the stroller as I ran up those hills. Mostly we walked and enjoyed the beautiful weather.

It was a cool event! The Patriot Guard was present on motorcycles to lead off the race. There were various Army and Air Force units taking part, too. It was a joint run with 250+ Army troops based down in Guatanamo Bay finishing up their race just as we started. Lots of people along the way, waving flags, holding up signs and cheering us on! At the end of the race, we first got to run thru a inflated Army camoflauge tunnel, then thru a tunnel of Patriot Riders holding flags, then the finish line, where we were met by a Veteran who handed us a commemorative coin.

Sam and Maddie then needed lots of gatorade, bagels and bananas to recover from their arduous run. It takes a lot of energy to yell "Mommy, why aren't you running", and "run faster, Mommy, FASTER".

I survived, and I'm pretty darn proud of my out of shape 40yr old body, which of course screamed in pain for the following few days as I felt pain in muscles I wasn't aware I had. I'm sending my race number, one of the flags the kids waved throughout the race, some info on the festival and a race coin to my Marine...

I hope he appreciates it as much as I do!!!!