reason #897 that we're screwed.

zuzu: what's that? beer?

mom: yes.

zuzu: can I try it?

mom: no.

zuzu: why not?

mom: because you're not 21.

zuzu: but you're not 21.

six on the beach

katy perry: sex on the beach...

gage: what's six?

mom: nods head no

gage: but what is it?

mom: I don't feel you are ready to know that

gage: but zuzu's running around singing it. if it's a bad word she shouldn't be doing that, right?

valid point.

can I tell him it's the same thing as the "f-word"? 

hmm, probably not.

can I tell him it's how my body knew to make a *water plug*?

yeah, negative on that idea too.

mom: it's a special love between a man and a woman. 

blank stare and a slow turn on the heels.

Either I'm getting very good at giving appropriately vague and boring answers or he's just really scared to know the truth.

I'm thinking it's a combination of the two.

for daddy.

mom: Good night skinny boy (as I squeeze his upper arm that is bone)

gage: I'm not skinny! Look at my belly!

mom: {giggling} What belly?

gage: My belly hangs over my pants!

mom: It does not.

gage: It does.  All my friends bellies hang over their pants too. Even some of the girls.

mom: Have you seen your daddy's belly?

gage: Yes.  But he's FULL GROWN!

isn't second grade fun?

I've dodged "the f-word", the middle finger & procreation in a matter of days. Tonight, as we're laying in bed, he wants to know what "the b-word" is.

gage: Is it butt?

mom: No, it's not butt.

mom: Who told you there was a "b-word"?

He tells me who.
Fortunately it's a different second grader than the one that taught him "the f-word" last week.

mom: It's really not such a great curse word.  If you were allowed to use it, and you wanted to be really hurtful, you would describe a bratty girl or a mean woman with it.

gage: Is it brat?

mom: No, it's not brat.

gage: I promise I won't say it. I cross my heart....  With a star. 

A star? What does that mean? I don't ask. I give up. The f-word is a far more useful curse word in my humble, foul mouthed opinion.

mom: It's bitch. 

He rolls over.

Apparently he agrees.

it all started wtih a water plug.

 

Gage has a project to do this week called "The Day I Arrived".

It's presumably a lesson in synthesis.  We tell the story multiple times and they re-write what they remember.  So tonight, I told the story for the first time. I'll only subject you to the pertinent details.

You were due on Monday.  I took the week prior off of work and spent the entire time getting the house ready for you.  On Friday I painted the baseboards in your room.  By that evening everything was ready.  I had the weekend to relax.  But then I woke up at midnight and the bed was soaking wet.  Kind of like I peed in the bed.  

See the baby is protected by a shield of water inside the mommy's tummy. 

"Kind of like Ponyo?"

Yes, exactly like Ponyo.

The water protects the baby from infection and when the plug breaks it means the baby is getting ready to come out.

"So your body just knows to make a water plug?"

Yes, your body knows exactly what to do to protect the baby.

"WAIT.  So you were MARRIED?"

Yes, we were married.

"So you and Daddy got married, got a house, kissed, and your body just knew to make a water plug?  But I don't understand how that works. You just get married and kiss and your body knows when to have a baby.  Do you have to be married?  Can you have a baby if you're not married?" 

Oh shit. Where is this going? The room is starting to spin...

Yes, you can have a baby without being married but it is best to be married first.

"So, how does that work? How does the baby get in the mommy's tummy from a kiss?"

Well, there's a little more to it than that.

Big, anxious eyes wait.

Um, well, you see, um.

My mind is racing. 

Yes to the kiss? Sperm & Egg? Stork? Plead the fifth?

"That's ok Mom, I don't need to know that right now.  Just go on with the story please."

That's my boy.

oh, and by the way, he wasn't actually born until 8:21am Sunday morning. 

via c-section. after three hours of pushing.

longest. weekend. of my life.

the shop

Tonight at dinner Gage announced out of the blue, "No one has been to my shop in a while."  Of course the first thing I thought was, "Yeah, well, there hasn't been much action in mine either lately", but I kept that to myself. 

I knew what he was talking about.  The "shop" was opened about 6 months ago, when Grandma was visiting I presume since she wrote the heading on his shop's "sign" (which is actually a 2.5 inch post it note scotch taped to his bedroom door).

It reads:

The Creator

1$ Bakugan

50 cent Post-It

10 cent Bakugan Cards

and 50 cent

10$ Legos

(disclaimer: this is not exactly how it reads as I can't find the symbol for cents on the computer or in blogger.  if anyone knows how to rectify this "problem" please clue me in)

Needless to say he went and re-wrote the sign and I just got to preview it before it went up. The sign is now orange and almost identical to the last however the Lego pricing strategy has changed.  Apparently before the figurines were $.50 and the sets were $10.  

Now... you can customize your own assortment for $4 or you can get one figurine for $1.50. I'm interested to see if sales pick up.  

I'm also wondering if it would be fair of me to ask for a cut of his profits.  Since I did originally pay for most of the things he is selling  But I'm thinking that wouldn't go over very well since I am one of his only best customers.  

And he says he's not a business man...

insensed?

Two days before Chinese New Year, Gage's second grade class took a field trip to Chinatown in downtown San Francisco. Not sure it was the best timing to chaperone twenty kids through the crowded market streets but I opted for a yoga class instead so who knows.

Regardless, Gage came home with a few trinkets.  One was a single stick of incense.  I love incense.  We have plenty in the house and he's seen it before but this was special. This was his. 

When they first came out of class they jousted with the incense.  They are seven.  What else do you do with it?  Then apparently it planted itself in the back seat of my car somewhere. (Clearly it's not terribly scented as I hadn't noticed it all week.)

Today, on the way to his basketball game, Gage found the incense and put it behind his ear.  As one would a pen or pencil.  He then proceeded to pretend to smoke it. 

But what came next was extraordinary.  

(And presumably warranted a blog post.) 

With great detail, far more than I can muster after this long day, Gage devised a plan.  Outloud.  While I sat listening in both amazement and sheer horror.  His new product.  It's a holder for cigarettes that one would wear over their ear.  It would reach out in front of their face, as the incense did and would hold the cigarette for them so that they need not bother using their hands to smoke it.  Kind of like a headset before the birth of the bluetooth. (Those lazy smokers?!) 

But wait, it gets far better. And he did this all on the spot.  On his own.  

Apparently he would like to prove to smokers that cigarettes (which he also calls "smokers" but it would confuse you if I did that so I'll refer to them here by their given name) are bad for you by making them unaffordable.  Or, in a sense, he would like to steal the money from smokers because he thinks it's a silly habit.  His cigarette holders (which everyone would want) would cost $5 a piece BUT they would not be reusable.  So every time you wanted a $5 cigarette, you would also have to buy a new $5 holder.  (His price structure.  Not mine.)  It would be a gold mine! Because, remember, everyone would want one.

I told him that was an interesting concept.  Called him an entrepreneur and a business man. He insisted he was neither.

When we returned home two hours later we had to fill out a questionnaire for his class.  On the line that asked, "I wish people wouldn't..." he wrote "smoke".  Without any hesitation.  

On the one hand I wanted to applaud him (which I did.... duh).
But on the other I really wanted to explain that he just pissed away all of his profits.

photo by my dear friend, justine

another week. another week.

Clearly not a terrible amount to share this week.

The kids recovered from last week's sickness and remained healthy for the duration. I simply didn't take the time to write any blog posts.

Gage asked repeatedly, "I know I can't say it... but what exactly does 'the f-word' mean"? We quickly (and probably for the first time ever) dismissed his thirst for knowledge.

Zuzu bit Gage and left a scar. After calming down a bit Gage explained that he would really like to give her the middle finger. (Because he knows it's basically the same thing as saying 'the f-word'... whatever that means). But he didn't. 

I (just this very moment) looked down and realized that I've been wearing the same "friend" necklace for the last 36 hours straight and it's on backwards. So you can't actually read the word.  Did none of those "friends" notice this? Or did they just not want to make me feel as incredibly stupid as I do now? Ironic... no?

I forfeit a night out with friends to stay home and relax and then proceeded to break the TV. Either that or some random God thinks I should only watch channel 3.  In HD.  With the blue bar across the bottom of the screen.  Which I won't do.  So I'm subjecting you to this rambling, pointless blog post instead.

Oh, and Gage's second grade class had a super bowl party today. I photographed "the game". I took over 300 photos and actually captured a few pretty awesome action shots (if I do say so myself).  But I think this one has to be my favorite.  It was taken before the game actually started.  That is Gage in the foreground and the opposing team in the back.  The rest of his team is still making their way on the field, tying on their flags, shooting the shit. But not our boy.
He's ready to go to battle.  

With teeth marks on his arm. 

And a middle finger pressed firmly into the dirt.

elder abuse

Here's the scene:

We're in the car driving home from school.

We are stopped at the inevitable 10 minute red light.

There is a house to the left of us with an ugly, store bought sign that reads "NO PARKING" besides the gate that blocks their driveway.  There is a woman older than me that is visible inside the gate.

Here's the conversation:

Gage: Why is there a no parking sign up there?

Mom : Well, I suppose they don't want anyone blocking their driveway.  Although it's pretty obvious that it's a driveway. And not many people park on this street. (I'm bored and killing time) However maybe there is someone out there that just might not realize it's a driveway and that would be annoying because then she couldn't get her car out.  But basically it's just an unnecessary and stupid sign.  (Yes, I used the "s word" in front of my children).

Gage: Yeah, I don't think the sign needs to be there.  I mean who wants to park there anyway?

Mom: Maybe the woman that lives there is just a little picky.  That's ok.

Gage: Well, she is an old lady and you know how old people get like that.

Mom: bwahhhahahahahahahaaa

Gage: Why is that so funny?

Mom: Where did you get that???

Gage: I don't know but it's true.   But you are only forty and you just called her stupid so you'll probably never get picky like that.

Or will I?  And have I already?  

At least now I know who will be the first to point it out...

3D driveway

All the movies have gone 3D, I figured we should too. I picked up two packs of this 3D chalk last summer and then we were gifted one more.  So today, in the height of our January "Winter", we broke some out and went to town on the driveway.

The chalk comes with the goofy glasses that Gage has on which is probably all you really need for this project (in case you happen to have missed the recycle bin on the way out of the theater or have a child that insists on avoiding it all together... and already own some chalk).  Although, I do have to say the colors of these chalks are really, really rich.  More so than most regular chalk we've owned. 

The 3D effect is most interesting when you use a combination of colors together, like in the block letters or swirly flower you see above.  The kids, however, were not so concerned with the 3D effect on the sidewalk.  They were more intrigued by how trippy some of the common items in the garage looked.  Like the butterfly kite that made them act like they were hallucinating.  It was quite comical.  Definitely worth the $10 for the chalk.  Plus our driveway is simply stunning.

leading by example

Zuzu likes to shower with me. It's not the greatest deal for me since the master bath is circa 1960 and the size of a small pantry.  But it's a special time for her and we're conserving water so I let it happen. 

Only problem is that she pays attention to everything and she loves to do exactly what Mommy does. She buffs her feet & scrubs her back. And no, she's not shaving yet.  

Is this too much information? Possibly. So I'll cut to the chase.

Last night when we got out of the shower I took out some q-tips to clean my ears.  For about the 87th time, Zuzu asked me if she could have some too.  And for about the 797th time I said, "No."  But last night she really, really wanted to know why.  I told her that the Doctor said it was not safe to clean your ears with a q-tip. (True story. The ENT told me not to use them back in October. Now someone go tell Johnson & Johnson that.)

So, of course, she wanted to know why I still used them.  Good question?  

I explained that I know I shouldn't use them.... and I am very, very careful with them so I don't damage my inner ear... but that I don't think she could do the same.  Blah, blah, blah. She seemed ok with that.

She then replied with, "You know, Daddy does something he's not supposed to do too."

I'm intrigued.  This could be good. Do tell!

"When we go to Swirl (the local yogurt joint) he parks in the No Parking spot."

We're all damned.
  But we have clean ears and good parking spots.

Post Script:
I just received this email from Dad...

That is inaccurate.
I drive into the parking lot through the “wrong direction” way.

the meaning of the new year

Mom: (to an antsy Zuzu that does NOT appreciate football) 

Honey, you just have to understand that New Years weekend is kind of like Thanksgiving.  It's all about...

Zuzu: giving?

Yes, well there's that too.
But I was going to say "football".

happy new year! now make a wish...

Tonight at dinner we dined on our favorite rotisserie chicken from a local restaurant.  Towards the end of the meal I saw the wishbone on Scott's plate so I picked it up and showed it to the kids. Briefly, I explained the process of breaking the wishbone, stressing several times that it's strictly a superstition, but that it might be fun to try it.  Especially on New Year's Eve.

So I told the kids to make a wish. And then I strategically gave Zuzu the bigger half.  (Gage, if you are reading this ten years from now, I'm sorry.  You are clearly stronger and more competitive and I had to give the poor girl a fighting chance.)

So they grasped and they pulled.  And they broke the wishbone.  And Zuzu, surprise!, ended up with the larger half.  

Immediately we began reiterating that it's only a superstition and that doesn't mean that either wish will or will not come true.  Then Zuzu giggled and said, "Oh, mine won't come true.  My wish was just a fairy tale."  And then she proceeds to tell us her New Year's wish.

"I wished that Ariel was my Mommy."

Nice.

So I turned to Gage to ask him what his wish was. "I wished that our family would have two hundred billion dollars (or some absurd number like that... I don't remember exactly).

So I took the larger part of the wishbone from Zuzu and gave it to Gage.

We all laughed for a quick bit. No one took any of it seriously as I was afraid they might and Zuzu accepted the smaller half of the wishbone for her fairy tale wish.

When the giggling subsided I asked Zuzu, 

"If Ariel were your Mommy, then who would I be?"

"An old lady"

Nice.

"How old?"

"Oh, about twenty"

So, the family would have two hundred billion dollars, Ariel would do the actual parenting, and I could just sit back in my twenty year old body and observe?  Well, hell, Happy New Year to me!

But seriously folks.  From our dysfunctional family to yours I wish you a happy and healthy new year.  And as a wise friend just posted on Facebook, "I wish you enough".

ocd vs. I don't really give a rat's ass

We all know our children are unique and that personality traits can vary wildly among siblings. Child rearing 101. But the differences can rear their hysterical heads in the most surprising of moments. Without looking too carefully at the actual gifts (that would clearly give it away), can you match the child with the appropriate pile of Santa gifts? One meticulously laid theirs out, gift by gift in a neat row. The other literally tossed them in the air (albeit appreciatively) and moved on.

you're the one that I want

I didn't suspect anything when she came out in all black and asked me to put the belt on her.  But when she requested my orange heels I knew something was up.  You're the one that I want.  And a four year old who thinks she's sixteen.

nothing for Christmas

This is not entirely true.  He is getting  a few things.  But Grandma and Grandpa bought them all. Mommy and Daddy aren't mad. 
They're just busy.

bonehead

Lucy gives a whole new meaning to the term bonehead.

on the road again

Zuzu packed her own bag for Florida this week (as if). It took me about 30 minutes to convince her that no, we wouldn't be taking her clothes on the plane in her rolling Dora the Explorer backpack, but that I would be sure to take her choices into consideration when I packed the *real luggage*.

I let it sit there packed for a day an half. 

Franky, I was a little nervous to open it.

But last night, in her absence, I did.

She had packed:

Three short sleeve t-shirts (all with rhinestones). 

Three coordinating lightweight skirts (all with ruffles). 

Two short sleeve disney princess nightgowns. 

One pair of socks (also sparkly).

Two pairs of underwear.

One bikini (sparkly). 

I'm actually pretty darn impressed.  

And yes, I will keep my promise (gritting teeth).

there was a little girl that had a little curl...

...right in the middle of her forehead.

And when she was good she was very, very good.

And when she was bad she was horrid.

Pretty much describes Zuzu.  Also describes the relationship between her and her brother.  When they are in agreement it melts your heart and when they fight it turns your hair gray. Literally. Well, the hair part at least.

Last weekend Zuzu schlepped out from her bedroom one morning in a pair of cozy hello kitty slippers, graciously handed down from our friend Jamie Bean.  She's had them a few months now but this morning, being particularly cold and slow moving, they were perfectly appropriate.

Gage saw them, looked at us with longing eyes and said, "I want slippers"!  Gage has no slippers.  Never has.  And honestly, I can't picture him ever really wearing a pair.  But that morning, he probably would have.  Without blinking Zuzu turned and trotted back into her room.  "Gage, I have slippers you can wear!", she screams as she attempts to run away (a little hard in slippery slippers).  

She returns with these.  See, heart melting, right?  Gage and I look at each other silently and exchange a look that said, "Wow, that was pretty darn sweet.  But there is no way in hell those slippers are going on." 

our festival of lights

 

Terrible thing for a **blogger** to write, but I really don't have time to get into the details of our religious backgrounds right now.  Let's just put it this way.  We are a family intertwined by Judiasm & Christianity, and ironically, held together by a renegade that generally likes to see things for herself before she believes anything... and figures it's her birth right to simply decide on her own (in due time of course),  what this life is all about.

Nevertheless, we make a feeble attempt at teaching our kids the fundamentals of as many religions as we can.  And we throw in some science for good measure.  And we practice traditions.  Like lighting the candles on the menorah for eight nights.  Eating fried latkes.  Writing wish lists, hanging stockings & leaving cookies and milk for santa.  And giving presents.  Yup.  We've got the presents part down.

For Hanukkah this year we decided we'd all be far better off spending the same amount of money on just a few fabulous presents than spreading it out on eight fairly uneventful presents for each kid.  Sixteen presents last year.  Three this year.  We'll see how the next seven nights go with no gifts but tonight, I'll have to say was a huge hit.  The kids got an xbox 360 kinect (dad does the advertising for the product so it was kind of a no brainer), Gage got a kindle (hello, he high tailed it off to the other room to, get this... read) and Zu finally got her very own pink ipod. 

As I sit here and reflect on our lovely first night of Hanukkah something does strike me as slightly ironic.  We try relentlessly to instill the meaning of our celebration, so that the kids understand that it's really not all about the presents.  So every year we tell them the story of Maccabees struggle, and how there was only enough oil to fuel the flame in the Temple for one day.  But how do we teach the kids about "the miracle of a container of oil" this year?  By lighting the candles, singing the prayer... and then powering up and plugging in.  

And I video taped the whole thing.  Go figure.

Here's Zu singing with her new ipod.  Funniest part here?  You get to hear what she actually thinks the words are.  You can blame Grandma for the "drunk" line.  I, surprisingly, had nothing to do with that one!...

And here's the kids on the new Kinect.  We have a financial interest in the success of this product.  So if you think our kids look like they're having a blast and you allow video games in your home.  Go buy one.  Or four.  Now...