In which he is 36 inches tall

Likes:

His blanket, Stinky (the wet, brown edge)
Kitties and doggies (but mostly kitties)
The three Cs: cake, cookies, candy
The beach
The pool (jump!)
The trampoline
Sisters
The treehouse
Books
Legos

Makes satisfied little sighs.

Prefers eating and drinking at the table rather than in his high chair.

Hates vegetables unless he's very hungry and has already eaten all the cookies.

We're not usually this fancy. It was the 4th of July. Emmett is my bike buddy everyday when we pick up the girls from school.

Reading to himself.

Dislikes:
Meeting people
Babysitters

Says:
Pae-po, Mama (paper, Mama)
Colla! (color)
Thanks, Mama

The world is my trampoline

Emme' bounce?

A morning memory

Bim left for work before I woke up. At 7:30, Liv is standing by my bed asking to play Little Big Planet. I tell her yes, but turn the volume down. 10 minutes later Ally is standing there telling me Emmett is awake. I ask her to bring him to me, knowing that if I don't get out of bed before he gets there, he'll demand milk, and I'll have to tell him again that mama's milk is all gone. I don't move fast enough so that's exactly what happens.

Emmett orders me up so I sit up. I am waking up without my usual enthusiasm for the day. Nothing to worry much about--this happens sometimes without meaning anything. It's normal ebb and flow of feelings. I think about my mom, up every morning before the rest of the household. My hair is stupid, like a witch's, as we say in our house. I know I'll feed the kids cereal and toast for breakfast and I'll have tea and probably a square of the chocolate Bim brought me. He tries out different chocolates for me, which I like, but this time he picked Cadbury dark chocolate, which I don't like. Some chocolatiers do milk chocolate so well--or so iconicly--I actually prefer it to their dark afterthought. Still a good thing, albeit a poor breakfast.

The girls will be occupied until 9 because that's when I tell them the TV has to go off. Emmett will putter nearby trying on all the shoes and pulling books off the shelf. He reads to himself and it's all that charming gibberish you think you'll remember for the rest of your life, but it'll disappear by degrees with his charming older voice. One day he'll be tall and big and his voice will be deep and his arms will be strong and hairy and this little boy with his wide, leaning stance and smooth skin and drooling lower lip will only exist in photographs and video clips. Get those video clips! Forget living in the moment! This moment will disappear with my heart in the next 30 seconds.

Now I stagger around for a while without my contacts in while I drink my tea and make my bed. I'll follow Emmett out to the basketball hoop and watch him hurl a ball at it for a while, and then we'll change his diaper and go into his room where he'll sit at his little red desk and read me some more books. The tea will enter my bloodstream and I'll feel good again.

I won't say all is right with the world, because that's never true, but I know what that phrase is meant to mean. The uncomplicated happiness of right now, where we are.

On Coping with the Parents

With all my heart I hope that my children learn, from being raised by me, that it's best to double check the obvious. You know what? Go ahead and triple-check that sucker.



All week I've been planning ahead so that today would go smoothly. I notified Ally's volleyball coach in advance that she wouldn't be able to play in her game because her project on helping bees thrive had been selected for the district science fair. I delayed sleepovers and prepared the right clothes and packed snacks. I charged batteries, repaired her display board, and planned everyone's day so that we could all meet at the fair and then go on to conquer our assignments from there.

I'll understand if you choose not to believe the version of events that follows. I am an unreliable narrator. But after my best laid plans, here's what actually happens...

Everything goes moderately well on our way to the event. Ally and I are singing and practicing fractions in the car, and she isn't getting sick. I find the high school on time, or close enough. But we see no boards. Lots of cars, lots of athletes, but no junior scientists anywhere. I check my email. The flyer won't download. I call Bim. His phone goes directly to voice mail. I decide to call the event coordinator: her phone number in the email is missing the last digit.

"Are you sure we have the right day?" Ally asks.

"Totally sure. Double-dog sure. I just rechecked it." I even show her the email. "See? May 16. Saturday. Cabrillo High School."

"But what if today isn't the 16th? What if it's like, the 11th or the 23rd or something?"

A fair question. And here's the part I'm least proud of: I have to check my phone to find out what day of the month it is. It's the 9th.

We haven't pulled completely out of the parking lot before Ally starts asking me about her iPod, repeatedly. I toss my bag back to her and tell her to fish it out.

"I don't see it, Mom. It's not in here."

"You're not looking hard enough."

"Really? It's weird because it really doesn't seem like it's in here. Are you sure you..."

"YES, I'm sure! Keep looking! 100% sure."

But then I feel the rectangle in my back pocket and I know. We have to cancel Mother's Day.

 

THE END.

Except that all morning I've been in an agony of realization as the dominoes fall. What does it mean that I can't get the most basic things right? For one thing, it means my kids can't depend on me to be right, even when I'm "100% Double-Dog Sure" about something. Why should they trust me? I don't trust me. In my confusion at the high school I didn't call my friend whom I knew would have the answer because I also absolutely knew that, if something was wrong, it was me who got it wrong, and I was proud enough, or ashamed enough, to do preemptive damage control on my reputation. I don't need any fools to know what a dummy I am.



If you know me, you know that I have always been this way. And it's no good telling me that everyone is like this sometimes. Because I know for a fact that my neighbor isn't and my friends X, Y, and Z aren't, and basically no one is this bad. And it's not getting any better. Chances are good that I have peaked already (without noticing, of course) and that things will only get worse from here. So! Here's how we will cope: my kids will have to get used to checking the facts for themselves and pushing back when I reassure them, even if it annoys me, and it probably definitely will. How can that be good?

And that's when I realized what great, patient but skeptical citizens I am raising. Congressional oversight committee? With this kind of early training, anything is possible.

This is going to be so great. Next week.

Kids Ruin Everything

Other people with children often tell me that boys will do all the things that girls won't do. Does this mean Emmett won't ask me if he can poop in the backyard, or climb on top of my car or replace the words in picture books with fart noises? Because that's the lifestyle to which I've become accustomed, and I hate to think it all ends with one little boy.

I'm not really worried. This morning at my Friday coffee-shop hour with friends at school I was bragging about how much I love hanging out with him, and it's fully true. Nothing I say about him is exaggerating, so I'm not exaggerating when I say that he ruins e v e r y t h i n g.

I'm always telling Bim this, that kids ruin everything, but weirdly he always wants to defend them, as if I'm accusing them of something bad! The little buggers are thorough and they're fast. More than anything I admire it. Last week as I sat on the bed folding laundry, Emmett was going through my drawers and, one by one, throwing every article of clothing in the air. Fold one, throw two, fold one, throw two. It's a partnership. And I think we're pretty near unbeatable--except maybe by Congress.

I remember things I ruined: my mom's mirrored make-up tray that turned out to be disappointingly bad at holding up my sheet fort (she was surprising mad about that one), the silver ring my dad sent her from Thailand before they were married, possibly still embedded in the dirt under the park swings . . . not to mention all the things I lost: clarinet, glasses, retainer, swimming suits, backpacks, jackets. Emmett has taken the ruination of our upholstered couch to the next level and that is saying a lot because his sisters got there before him and have built countless forts and stashed countless snacks and lidless markers in its cushions.

Carry on, my wayward son. There'll be peace when you are done. But not until then. No peace for anyone.

Catalina Spring Break

After it was all over I suggested to Bim that we should calculate how much our spontaneous weekend cost, for future reference, knowing that he could never resist the challenge to count up all the tallies and tie up all the ends. I don't regret asking it, in the same way that I don't regret finishing Emmett's dinner after mine, but I still wish it hadn't happened. No, the reckoning wasn't pretty. But the trip was beautiful.

Liv requests to sit in front so she can help drive. Loves the smell of gasoline, loves to push that pedal.

This one loves the scenic life.

Liv wears pants now, as of this day, no big DEAL!!!

Wild animal park.

Coming

and going

and coming

Probably asking Google how to make fire.

No signal? What does that even mean?

Checkin' stuff

Suitable for napping.

Yes, that'll do just fine.

Gotta go tell somebody.

And that's when the camera battery died. We made a conscious decision not to pack anything but a few clothes, sleeping bags and snacks for the ferry. Not even a camera battery (oof). But at least our cell phones died within hours of arriving and all the power outlets were turned off.

That's when you say some choice bad words and then shrug and cheerfully forge ahead with a new resolution to live in the moment. Because you can't go back again.

Oh, but when we do go back again we are going to make some thriftier choices.

A brief run-down

No time! But I don't want to forget.

Another bout of lice, I would happily forget, but it happened and I accept it with a certain amount of incredulous humor. I'm only able to laugh about it because Picky Pam exists and although I now do most of the combing myself to save the money, it's a comfort to know she's out there to back me up almost every day of the week. Bless her soul.

After many days of delay and indecision I had one faint idea of what we could do for a spring break getaway. How pathetic am I at planning and packing? Very. But when Catalina popped into my head, we seized it and forged ahead. We chose it primarily because the ferry is two miles from home and the island has a grocery store, so I wouldn't have to shop for groceries in advance. And it was a success! No vomit on the ferry, limited night waking (from Emmett only; the girls slept through both nights with no potty needs and no complaining of cold), surprise school friends at the campsite and some beautiful days. Oh, and relaxing starlit nights.

Psych! The first part is true but I did NOT sleep well either of the two nights. Emmett sleeps very well in his own space, but if he knows we're near, he's ready to party--or cry--at any time. As long as I stayed perfectly still, not adjusting for cold or pee or sore hips, I had a chance at quiet, but we all know I'm not stoic. My final verdict is that two nights was ah-plenty.

Cameras had no battery power, thanks to aforementioned poor planning, so most of this trip will have to linger or fade in our memories, as nature wills.

Other current events include:

Liv was awarded Student of the Month status today. The principal came to her classroom and she had to stand with his hand on her shoulder while he went through his spiel. She repeatedly tried to sit down but was pulled back. Pursed lips, bug eyes, head down, trying not to smile. That's my Lou.

Ally was identified to take the GATE test but we were only given 2 days' notice to prepare her.  It's hard to watch her enter this new phase of life that brings self-awareness/self-consciousness, rigorous and frequent testing, social cliques, body change and all the rest. I overheard her making comparisons of her body with her friend's the other day (bless her friend for being 1 part oblivious and 2 parts kind and generous) and I thought, this is it; don't get scared now. If Kevin from Home Alone can stay strong, then so can I. I try to find moments of alone time during which I can casually bring up topics (oh, no big deal, but ...) without her noticing that I'm trying to teach her something.

Emmett loves balls. It feels like an awkward thing to say, but you get it. He loves to run up and down hills, throw balls into the air, throw balls at stuff, catch balls, kick balls and roll balls. He's added a devious face to his repertoire of expressions. His bond with his blue blanky, Stinky, grows more powerful with each new colony of germs. He's utterly fantastic.

Bim is planning to run a marathon next month. He's crazy but that's cool.

I would love nothing more than some hours to write a better blog post, but I choose sleep and food first. So I guess that's what I really love more. I'm not even going to read this post for errors. Byeeeee.

Crabfest 2015

Lest the world never witness the splendor, I give you CRABFEST 2015.

We keep the guest list revolving because Crabfest needs to be savored and that's best done with a small, select group. Every year I want to invite everyone I know, and also everyone I see or talk to. It's really hard to hold back. This year I promised Lauren we'd keep it small for reals, and we mostly did, but I couldn't help inviting our favorite neighbors, Craig and Lisa, especially because they're moving sometime in the next couple of months. Had to seize that day.

Always I wonder if we have enough crab and always the miracle of the loaves and crabs occurs and I have at least one rascally claw left to enjoy the next day all by m'self. It was a great day and I decided I prefer cold crab to warm crab. So what?