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Tuesday 13 May 2014 | 0 Comments

The Boy was not himself today. Slight fever, runny nose, rough cough, so we took him to Nana's and Papa's for the day. When I stopped by in the afternoon to pick him up, he jumped out of Nana's lap, squeaked, "Bye Nana!" as he waved, turned to me, and said with obvious relief in his voice, "Home." That's not to say he doesn't love being at Papa's and Nana's -- he certainly does. But Nana's and Papa's is Nana's and Papa's, and home is home.

He says the same thing when I pick him up from daycare every day. He's won the teachers' heart, with one writing in a thank you note (for cupcakes last week for the teachers -- what a mama!), "He really makes my day with his sweet hugs and sometimes unexpected kisses." Miss J seems to adore him, and he certainly is just a little crazy about her. Still, he sees me coming and says with obvious relief in his voice, "Home."

What could "home" mean for a two-year-old? We like to attach all these grandiose meanings to such a simple concept. A quick snapshot is all the explanation anyone really needs to such a question.

Monday Afternoon

Monday 12 May 2014 | 0 Comments

We take the Girl to jazz dance and return to play with the Boy's new toys.

Mother’s Day 2014 and Happy Happy!

Sunday 11 May 2014 | 0 Comments

"Today is a triple header," Father Boyle said today at Mass. "Mother's Day, Good Shepherd Sunday, and First Communion." He left out one thing: E's Happy Birthday.

First, food.

Grilled onions, hamburgers, hot dogs, grilled corn, Greek spinach salad, Black Forest cake, and fresh fruit.

With a beginning like that, what could go wrong? Sure, not everyone's crazy about hot dogs. Sure, the idea of grilled corn Indian style (i.e., smeared with lemon dipped in Cayenne pepper) sets some people on fire. Sure, not everyone likes strawberries. (Really? On what planet?) Still, food brings people together like few other things. Perhaps that's why the Lord's Supper is just that. Breaking bread together is truly an ancient tradition.

Perhaps not as ancient as some traditions, like motherhood. By now, it's almost cliche, but where would we be without mothers? Silly question; silly tradition. We shouldn't need a special day to honor our mothers. We should be doing it on a daily, no hourly basis.But we don't, so it's for the best that one day a year we decide deliberately to honor our mothers. Our fathers have to wait another month.

But E: he only had to wait for the cake.

And then came the fun. For E,Â the present selection process was simple: anything with wheels. Is it a cliche? Who cares -- he is simply obsessed with any and all vehicles, and knowing this simplified present choices for everyone.

But the real present of true he received long ago, when I was so blessed to marry the woman I married. L's best present, too. And mine.

Theoretically unnecessary or not (come on -- must we be reminded to be thankful for those who cleaned our backsides and spanked them too?), I'm still glad we have Mother's Day.

Pre-Party Saturday

Saturday 10 May 2014 | 0 Comments

Tomorrow is the Boy's birthday party. His actual birthday isn't until Wednesday, but who really throws a birthday party on Wednesday when we can do a double-duty birthday/Mother's-Day party on the preceding Sunday?

The upshot of this plan was simple: K kicked everyone out of the house in the early afternoon to work on the cake. It was one of those moments really to make me realize just how ineffably wonderful K is: how many would make a Black Forest cake as opposed to simply buying a cake at this or that bakery? In the end, it's not important how many would bake versus buy, it only matters that E and K are lucky enough to have a mother who bakes.

So the Boy and I headed to a park while the Girl went to a neighborhood friend who recently got a puppy. Everyone was happy. K had a quiet house in which to bake and clean; E had a playground to overwhelm him; the Girl got to play with both a friend and a puppy.

We all returned afterward for cake decoration, which doesn't go quite as planned, and fresh fruit with whipped cream -- as in heavy whipping cream that's been whipped -- and some last-minute playing in the yard.

The whole time, the Boy was thrilled.

"Who has 'happy birthday' tomorrow?" we all asked in turn.

The Boy points to himself and shouts, squeals, or barks, "Happy birthday!"

After School

Wednesday 07 May 2014 | 0 Comments

The Boy goes for his farm set.

The Girl plays with her kitten.

Slow Down, Honey!

Monday 05 May 2014 | 0 Comments

On the Bed, on the Couch

Sunday 04 May 2014 | 0 Comments

Spring Planting

Saturday 03 May 2014 | 0 Comments

Another unbelievably sunny morning. Perfect for what we'd planned for the day: spring planting, which the weather and our schedule has put off for two weeks.

First task: purchases. We drove across town to our favorite nursery to pick up veggies and flowers, but the Boy decided that he must -- simply must -- run like a maniac.

"E, if you don't stay with me," I explained, wondering how much he understands. At what point can a child understand cause and effect? Certainly not his age, but we must begin at some point. "If you don't stay with me, we'll go to the car."

He ran off; we headed to the car.

The Boy spent the rest of the visit fussing in his car seat; I spent the rest of the visit listening to the Magliozzi brothers on Car Talk with accompanying screams, cries, and general tantrum-related noises from the back seat.

In the meantime, the Girl picked out flowers with K, always drawn to the most expensive flowers: six, seven bucks for one. In the end, K bought her one expensive flower -- a lovely blue and white blossom that is completely unknown to me and will be for all time, as inept with flowers as I am -- and several less expensive but equally lovely varieties.

The rest of the day was a furry of preparing the raised beds (which took most of the rest of the morning), and planting, planting, planting. Then came the grilling, grilling, grilling. AndÂ more time with the grandparents.

And finally, after the bathing, bathing, bathing, some relaxing for K and me.We finished up a Coen brothers' film (Inside Llewyn Davis -- how can a protagonist be so utterly unlikable?) and then just sat on the couch, TV off, the sounds of the evening pulling us to bed, though for me, not so directly.

A good day.

On the Couch

Thursday 01 May 2014 | 0 Comments

His lips vibrating in a blur of motion, he makes a put-put-put sound for all his vehicles, pushing his tractor in circles and stopping the sound effect just long enough to proclaim, “Tata!Kosi!” How he knows that large tractors can be used to mow is another of the mysteries of a toddler, chief among them the babbling, chirping, squealing, and shouting mix with his improvised words, a mix of Polish, and English and apparent nonsense, a most rudimentary language that only he can understand. Only he and perhaps other toddlers, equally fascinated with the sounds that come from their own mouths and the miracle of adult speech seems to accomplish miracles through mere utterance.