What else we've been up to...

Paris had his 3rd grade recorder concert. He sat in the back and is so short, we couldn't see him the whole recital. Until they played a particularly jazzy number; afterwards, a familiar arm shot straight up and twirled the recorder like a rock band drummer twirls his drumstick. (Now I know why he was sitting in the back...)

Athena tried out for the school talent show. She and her best friend were going to choreograph a dance/cheer to a song--they had costumes and everything picked out--but the friend decided a few days before the tryout that she would rather not do it. Athena was torn, wondering if her friend would be mad if she danced without her, and really wanting to try out. In the end, she decided to do her jazz dance from her jazz class by herself. She said she was so nervous before she went out that her "bones were shaking" but the next day she got the note that said she was in the show. Yay, Athena!

Paris made a dinosaur paper maiche mask for Cub Scouts and performed a skit for pack meeting. God bless his scout leader--the day they did paper maiche, he came home covered head to toe in flour paste. But then a few meetings later she sent "worm farms" home with the scouts, with instructions to compost vegetable scraps to feed the worms. Now I love earthworms as much as anybody, but the thought of tiny white worms hatching from tiny white eggs, squiggling around admist carrot peelings, well, it sort of set me over the edge. I refused to let the "worm farm" in the house and they promptly dried out in the patio's sun.

Athena learned how to decorate cakes by a certified Wilton cake decorator at Activity Days. I did allow the cupcakes into the house. They were delicious.

Memorable Weekend

Alyssa and Jeff came up last Saturday. They were visiting some friends in Philly and spent the day with us. It was sort of last minute so they ended up just hanging out with us and helping us around the house. I was immediately and completely transported to an alternate universe where I lived close to my sisters and running around, picking up mulch and vegetable starts with them was the most normal thing in the world. We came home to find Jeff and Brian scrubbing the deck together, and when they were through, we all went to our diner to eat. Wouldn't that be great, to do your chores with your family, and then swap next weekend? They could give us tomatoes and we could loan them our lawn mower. Alyssa and I could go shopping and Jeff and Brian could watch the game. Then we could barbeque and sit out late watching the kids ride their bikes. Sigh. Oh, well--it was fun to have them here, and I guess we owe them a project!

Monday we finished mulching--so much mulch! (not really, I just had to say that, so much mulch, because it's fun to say)--and then packed a cooler and headed to the beach. The one we went to last Spring Break, when we froze doing a Family Hike. On the upside, we had the whole beach to ourselves, and it was so lovely, despite the freezing wind, that it immediately became Our Beach. The sky was already spitting as we sped east, and I feared that our family outing would end up with an hour drive only to eat sandwiches in the car. Luckily, it cleared up by the time we got there, and the sun was just hidden enough to be the perfect temperature.
The kids burst from the car and attacked the beach with joyful ferocity. They ran--no sprinted--to the waves and ran into and out of the waves almost as fast as they came in. They bulldozed through the sand using shells, throwing sand up in a sort of frenzy. They scoured the beach and picked up every shell within a quarter mile. I, on the other hand, lay out a towel, and got lost somewhere between the grey sky and the grey sea.

We took our now traditonal Family Hike down the beach (anything is a tradition if we do it more than twice). The kids ran--no still sprinting--ahead and then came tumbling back to where Brian and I strolled along. Apollo lept along sideways, dragging his foot to make tracks in the sand. How the waves and the wind can feed the kids' endless energy while soothing me into a karmic state of calm at the same time is part of the mystery of the beach.
Finally we headed home and bbq'd Beef,Mint, and Pepperoncini Burgers with Lemon Feta Sauce --which is one of my all-time favorite burger recipes (only chop the cherry tomatoes up, otherwise they just fall off). After dinner, I kissed my lobster children (because I was a bad mom and forgot all about sunscreen on such a grey day) and sent them to bed, where for once they went to bed without a struggle.

Hallelujah!

Before I post about Memorial Day Weekend (that seems like it should be a misnomer)--I have to post about Apollo's ENT appointment. We went to a different ENT--Dr. D--today to get a second opinion about Apollo's ears. Dr. D said his ears looked fine and didn't need surgery! His left tube has fallen out but everything looked o.k. He even backed up his opinion with a typanogram (which measures the pressure in his ear, which indicates the presence of fluid) and a hearing test given by an audiologist. He has some residual conductive hearing loss in the left ear, but it wasn't enough to impede speech, and didn't have anything to do with his tubes. Dr. D was far from warm and congenial--he was rather monotone in fact and didn't smile the entire time but he took the time to explain what everything was and why he thought what he did. We even accomplished all of this in less than 2 hours! Imagine that!

Can You Read My Mind?

I was changing sheets in the kids' room when I found this book How to Read Your Mother's Mind under Tritan's bed. Now, I don't know why he'd want to read my mind--it's the kid's minds that are really befuddling. If he wants to know what I'm thinking, it's usually one of two things: How did (enter any room in the house) get so messy again--I just cleaned it! or When is your father getting home?

Soccer Night Magic

When we lived in VA, Paris played rec soccer. He was only 4 and 5 at the time, and the games mainly consisted of him and his fellow teammates running the length of a soccer field, galloping and wheeling around the elusive white ball, just trying to get a kick in. They wore too-long soccer jerseys and soccer cleats so small they made you want to say "ahh".
One of the perks, though, was discounted tickets to DC United professional soccer games on Kids Day. Brian (of course) jumped on that and Paris and he had a Daddy-Son date. Of course, Paris didn't pay attention to the whole game, but he liked to cheer, and when he tired of that, he quickly charmed the kids around him. Paris has never met a stranger, and soon there was a clump of kids listening to his yarns and offering him trinkets (seriously, how does he get people to give him so many things?!). At half-time, they gathered the kids and let them go down on the soccer field and parade around. (This is where it was good Brian took him, and not me. I was shocked that Brian allowed his 5 year old to go down to the playing field by himself--I would have been half sick with worry that we would never re-unite. The thought apparently never crossed Brian's mind, and of course, everything worked out o.k.)
It was a magical night for both of them and a new tradition was born.
Of course, we put the practice on hold for a couple of years while we were in 'Bama, since there was no professional soccer close enough. But once we moved here, Brian asked Paris what he wanted to do for Daddy-Son date, and he immediately responded "Soccer game." Now, the practice has expanded to all of the kids.
Last Saturday was Apollo's first experience going to a professional game with Dad, and Brian couldn't help recollecting Paris' first game and looked forward to exposing his last child to the magic of Soccer Night. When Brian let the kids choose their games, Apollo had picked the Dynamos--(probably because it sounds like Dinos and thought they were going to get to see dinosaurs playing soccer.)They set off, each wearing matching Red Bulls T-shirts (I would've gotten pics but I was hauling compost to the garden...)
Yeah, Apollo's night wasn't so magical.
It's always tricky trying to gauge traffic to NY Stadium--and that night there happened not to be any. So they had eaten hot dogs and cotton candy before they even kicked off. (That may have been mistake #1). Then Apollo spied the Rowdy section and boy did they look like they were having a lot more fun than he was having. He tried to convince Dad to go sit with the Rowdies--"look Dad, we have Red Bulls shirts on"--and Brian tried to explain what seating assignmets were.
During half-time, some older kids played a quick game on the field. Apollo tried to convince Dad that he should get to go play too--"look Dad, I have a Red Bulls shirt on"--(that shirt had to be good for something, right?)--and Brian tried to explain that not everyone gets to play.
Soon after, Apollo gave up and insisted on going home. The score was tied, and neither team seemed concerned about scoring again, so Brian conceded and they gathered their stuff up and headed out of the stadium--where Apollo immediately burst into tears as he seemed to suddenly realize that the game wasn't over, saying he was sorry and wanted to go back and watch the game.
Completely bewildered, Brian took him back in and they watched the clock wind down.
Apparently it was still a good experience: as we watched the kids play outside on a perfect Sunday evening, Apollo dragged out the soccer net and his soccer ball. He makes all of his goals by dribbling the ball til it is in front of the net and then slide-kicking the ball to score. I'm not sure I will ever get the grass stains out of those pants, but it sure looked cool.

Say What?

I took Apollo to the ear dr. for a check up this week. After waiting 2 HOURS (which is SOP there), I was told that he needs another set of tubes. This will be his 4th set and his 3rd in 2 years. I feel sorry for the little guy; he must never hear anything clearly. Still, I think I might try another ENT--maybe there is an alternative to all these surgeries?

Mother's Day

Mother's Day was great. Starting with Apollo declaring that I was the boss, since it was Mother's Day, I had a wonderful weekend.


Apollo sang to me at his Preschool Mother's Day tea.

The kids got me flowers and cards on Sunday.

Brian got me purple tulips (our flower)

Athena made me this pillow with scraps of felt and cotton balls. She sewed the pillow by hand, and even sewed the flowers and lemons on. Apparently, I'm supposed to flip the pillow to whichever side describes my mood at the moment. I wonder which side the kids think I'm mostly on....

BTW, when I tried to make Apollo eat dinner tonight, he said, "It's not Mother's Day. You're not the boss anymore." It was good while it lasted.

A Killer(s) Concert

I'm not sure how it happened, but I have slowly become de-passionate-tized. I used to be fired up, ready to rumble, out to change the world. I was a very active member of Amnesty International in high school, helping to throw concerts and participating in marches to the city capitol building; now I listen to reports on NPR and solemnly shake my head. My vigor to save the environment in college went from re-seeding grassland and vegetarianism to being tiredly annoyed when I find recyclables in the garbage. I used to be up for almost any party, dance, gathering I heard about, now I grumble when we get invited to neighborhood parties. Ask me about music or art and I had an opinion; now...well, OK, I never really gave that up.
And The Killers are by far my favorite band. Of all time. I know I sound like a teen-ager, but for me, The Killers are my balm, my inspiration, my high. I cannot not be happy when I listen to them. When I am stressed out, there is nothing like getting in the car and cranking Read my Mind. When I run, nothing can inspire me to run another mile like All These Things I've Done. And I defy anyone not to jump along with Spaceman.
So imagine my delight when Brian bought me concert tickets for The Killers for this past Friday. I have been in eager anticipation since Feb. when he bought them and, even with that much buildup the concert did not disappoint. If blasting their music in the car is my nirvana, being there feeling the bass thump through you, lights dancing in time to the beat, and Brandon Flowers strutting among his Las Vegas set was joy beyond words.
The only thing better than seeing my favorite band in person, was seeing it with Brian, who knows how to enjoy a concert better than anyone. Thanks again, honey!

I don't know if you've heard about swine flu...

So, I don't know if you've heard about swine flu, but I fully hyperventilated last Monday when that was all NPR would cover. (Luckily, the frenzy has calmed down a bit since then). All the scenes from every apocalyptic movie or book played itself through my mind. I pictured me and my family huddled in gray blankets with dirt on our faces, eating wheat gruel with our hands. I have since tried to be more optimistic but I know I'm not the only one who freaked out.

Wednesday was Athena's choir dress rehearsal, and between being squished on the risers, the heat from her classmates, and not having eaten since lunch, Athena began to feel woozy. She went to sit down.

"I feel hot and dizzy," she said.

So of course, they called the principal down. She escorted Athena to the nurses station where she was told to lie down and then they called me to pick her up. They didn't want to put her on the bus "because, well, you know...". OK honestly, I thought it was because they didn't want her to faint on the bus, but when I got to the school, the secretary confessed that she hadn't taken Athena's temperature or anything, hadn't even felt her forehead. Then she repeated, "We didn't want to put her on the bus, because, well, you know...". Then she ripped the paper sheet Athena had been lying on and threw it in the trash.

And then it hit me, she thought Athena was sick. With swine flu.

O.K. I admit, I took her temperature as soon as she got home (97.5*). But still--don't tell me there hasn't been a girl that faints at EVERY choir rehearsal known to man.

Luckily, the actual performance went off without any fainting or drama.

Athena certainly performs without any self-consciousness. She belts out the numbers with exuberance, and when they are supposed to move to the music, she dances around without any of the inhibition or exhibition usually found in the age group--she is just having a good time.

When I complimented her on her performance she told me, "Well, I want to go to Broadway."

This Athena doing her speaking part.

Rain-Gutter Regatta

O.K. We knew it was going to happen. Could see it coming as clearly as if an oracle had foretold it. And yet, like Oedipus, the outcome was unavoidable despite all that we did to thwart it. We lost several pieces from Paris' Cub Scout Rain-Gutter Regatta kit.

We received the kit at last month's Den Meeting. We were given a two page instruction sheet, and the kit, with a warning that there would be no "extra" kits given out. All the boys promptly opened up the kits and examined the parts--sail, mast, keel, boat body, rudder, and keel. Knowing that our house has an unidentified black hole where socks, homework, and various Important Papers have been sucked in, never to return and knowing that Paris can not keep things in their Proper Place to save his life, I took the box and stuck it in my purse. Where it remained until we got home and I put it on top of the TV cabinet, where he could not reach it, and yet where we would be constantly reminded every time we thought we had a moment to sit and watch The Office that no, there is a boat that needs to be built.

The Saturday before the meet (yes, we waited that long to get started--we had an uncanny ability to ignore the yellow box on top of the TV), we got the boat down to paint it with leftover spray paint in the garage. There is definitely less panache to the Regatta than to the Derby. The Derby is a showcase of woodworking, aerodynamics, diligence to details, design and artistic ability, not to mention racing aptitude. The regatta basically boils down to how hard you can blow air through a straw. So there was a lot less care and planning that went into the boat. In fact it was the night before Den Meeting before Paris went to retrieve the boat drying in the garage (painted half neon yellow, half white) to finish gluing on the other pieces.

He affixed the mast and sail, but the keel and rudder were missing. Gone. The box was unexplainably empty. No amount of back tracking, peering into small cracks, looking in every likely and unlikely place was going to locate a white plastic rudder or a diamond shaped metallic keel. I knew this would happen, thought I had done what I could to prevent it, yet here I was on hands and knees peering into places I'd just as soon not know what was back there.

After about an hour of looking, I gave up. Paris would just have to do his best rudder- and keel-less. Brian had a bit more compassion and jimmy-rigged a keel and rudder from a cottage cheese lid. I was dubious that the boat would float straight or even stay upright, but Brian's a better engineer than I give him credit for and for the most part Paris' boat stayed the course. He was even 2nd in his age group--after all, we all know he has a lot of hot air.

Spring fling

Like a tree in early spring, I sat with my leaves and buds curled up against the cold, waiting, waiting for warm weather. Then, suddenly one warm night, all the flowers unfurled and the tree is busy with bees and birds. Spring has finally arrived and with it a flurry of activity. Suddenly we need to get the flower beds ready to plant, the deck cleaned off, ballet and chorus rehersals and concerts to attend, and tax money projects started around the house.

Paris and Brian went to the first of many soccer games the day after we got back from NY. Brian gets about a dozen at-home soccer tickets for the NY Red Bulls and takes one kid at a time for a father-kid date. Brian is amazed that all of our kids love soccer so much. I told Brian they would love log rolling if that was what he was into. They love being with their Dad--it also doesn't hurt that Brian's idea of a good dinner is hot dogs, pretzels, and cotton candy.



That Sunday, Tritan went to Priesthood Preview which is a preview of what to expect when he turns 12 in August and moves from Primary to Young Mens. Tritan doesn't share a lot of how he feels with us, but I can guess that he is excited to graduate from Primary. He was very attentive and answering all the questions--which is very different from how he usually behaves in Primary where he is very quiet. He is such a good example to our family; he will be a great Deacon.

Talking about previews, Athena had Preview night at jazz class. Every time I watch Athena perform, I can't help thinking how talented she is in dancing and performing. She is very quick to learn new steps and know her dances inside and out but still performs it with spunk and sparkle.


Talking about spunk, she is obsessed with getting her ears pierced now. She had to wait until she was 8, but that milestone came and went and she didn't want them pierced then. In fact, in most conversations about it, she usually doesn't want to get them pierced because she's afraid it will hurt. But suddenly, she really wants to wear earrings and after a cursory look at Target and the internet, she hasn't been able to find any clip earrings that look like a 10yo and so now she must get her ears pierced. Now.
We'll allow her to get her ears pierced, but it's definitely not a necessity, so she has to pay for it. So everyday she begs for chores around the house--which, believe me, is not a bad thing--except she wants to work instead of doing homework, and doesn't want to do any chore that doesn't pull down a $5 price tag.

Talking about price tags, we went into Home Depot for a wheel barrow and walked out with a BBQ instead! Now, after 15 years of marriage, we can finally host a real BBQ (instead of hot dogs done on a grill pan).

Coming up in next post: Paris' rain gutter regatta (try saying that 5 times fast) and Athena's choir concert.