Turkeys

Thanksgiving came -- and with it, my parents, brother, and sister-in-law. It was fabulous having that many family around. Always someone ready and willing to entertain the kids, always other people around thinking about things like what to have for dinner and whether anything in the dryer needs folded, and lots of helping eyes, hands, and ears.

My Mom outdid herself with FOUR pies. Major portions of 2 are still in our fridge. She marked each of the apple pies for Will and Kate -- one with a "W" and one with a "K."
Will was so excited about Uncle Skip and Aunt Emily's arrival around noon on Thanksgiving Day that he didn't nap... and fell asleep just as we were getting a 3:00 meal to the table. (My Mom pre-made almost everything, making this the earliest Thanksgiving dinner on record.) Kate, however, was ready for chow!
And yes -- I was Thankful. For the usual stuff... health, home, and happy kids who do not know hunger or the sounds of bombs and go to sleep without fear.

Catching Up

Among the many things that have happened since our lives turned into an extended episode of Candid Camera was a visit from Nana (Paul's Mom). That amazing Mom intuition must have been at work months ago, when she arranged her travel to arrive the morning after Paul's appendectomy.Despite the work that greeted her (me with papers to grade and a fellowship to finish; Paul in the hospital -- leaving two kids and a house in need of extra support) we managed to take a few moments outside. Nana also pitched in at school, spending a day with the kids (i.e.: providing us with translation for the cryptic activities Will describes when we ask him what he did at school that day).






It was wonderful to have the visit and we can't wait for the next!

To Will, who is now FOUR years old

On your birthday, you explained exactly what I should expect from a 4-year old:

"4-year olds are big boys. They don't hit, or whine, or kick, or talk back, or have a bad attitude."

Whoa.

I had my doubts. After all, you'd spent the months leading up to age 4 testing almost all of the above... lapsing into defiant stand-offs that involve my carrying your thrashing body back to your room for time alone. Perhaps all of this effort wore you out? Because honestly, so far, the reality of you at age 4 has been closer to your prediction (outlined above) than mine (continuing increase in maddening defying behavior and tantrums). I remain skeptical of a complete transformation but am happy to be in this place while it lasts.

One of the things I am enjoying most about you is that you love art projects. Ever since "Miss Georgia" came from the Bead Shop to teach you to make earrings, you've been begging to make jewelry. I am not sure you appreciate how incredible happy it makes me to hear you ask to do art and craft projects and I am doing my best to take it all in stride, lest you realize the power the request has over me. After we put Kate to bed, you and I share an hour each night doing these projects together. We paint, make jewelry, draw, make ornaments, and string Mardi Gras beads into garland for the Christmas tree.
This last activity was what we were up to when you sailed from the stool where you were perched holding beads, hitting the wooden armrest of the sofa on the way down. Rather than climb down (as you've done many times from this same stool you sit on regularly to play pinball), you decided to jump at an angle, as if to land next to the bag of beads. I saw the blood before you did, seeping out from between your fingers as you covered your eye. That sight -- you holding your hand over your eye, screaming out while blood began to pour -- definitely aged me as I considered the possibility of a serious eye injury. For the record, you only cried for a short minute. Either due to my immediate response, cradling you in my arms and speaking softly and quietly to calm you, or because you are like your sister and have a diamond-clad head. We were all very thankful to see that you missed injuring your eye, bursting open the tissue in your eyebrow instead. We are also very thankful that we had you fixed by a doctor, as the location and depth of your wound made a level of complication that we could not have addressed. Now you have one purple eyebrow patch over your right eye, making folks suggest you're sporting a Drew Brees look. (Believe it or not, I still don't have a picture of the injury. Coming soon, though.)
Speaking of right and left. You have begun to master these directional specifics. Although you are committed to getting them backwards. I explained how you use your fingers to make an "L" for left, but realize this is a mute point since you are similarly committed to writing letters backward.

Kate remains your biggest fan and your biggest bully. Rarely does a day go by when she hasn't clobbered you with something. We are working hard on reigning her in, showing you that the behavior is no way tolerated, reminding you of how we all have to work together to teach her how to treat others. Still, we realize that what really needs to happen is for you to just clobber her back. Of course we will never suggest this, and if you were to take up such a position we'd correct you accordingly with much displeasure. But we think that a little dose of her own medicine would help her learn a bit faster.Despite the regular beatings, you adore your sister. At least, when she's not playing with the toy you Just Had or taking apart the train track you Just Fixed or pushing the truck you Just Took Down or banging on the drum too loud when you Just Want To Play Guitar. All of these things are major offenses in your book and cause for incredible whining. In general, we are supportive of your arguments of injustice but the truth is that we have a hard time caring that much about it. If your Dad and I have learned anything about parenting, we have learned that parents don't want justice, we want QUIET.In the face of our resolution that you Work It Out, you have actually begun to find ways to play with your sister for extended periods of time (i.e.: longer than 1 minute). Like the other morning, when your Dad was in the hospital and I was alone with you two, trying to get dressed in the back of the house. I could hear you, laughing and playing together up front. I was so proud, almost not believing that your playtime had gone so long without either one of you breaking the mood with an ear-splitting wail. When I finished and went to retrieve you both, I found that you were bonding over art -- happily planting stickers all over your rocking chairs and supplementing the colorful menagerie with marker ink. This is now a common theme: that you and Kate find an uncanny comradery when the two of you are doing something you are not suppose to be doing.

In your 4-year check-up, you got FOUR injections. Two in each arm. You spent two days talking about how you were going to "get shots" from the doctor, so much that you seemed excited about it. When the moment came, you hesitated and then started to stutter: "B..b...but I d.. d.. don't like to get POKED!" By the time you got out "poked," Dr. Oates was done with two of the shots and you had an alligator tear pouring down your cheek. Aside from the time a nurse failed to hold your leg, causing you to kick and the needle to tear into the tissue of your thigh, this was the only time you've cried tears for an immunization. The good news is that you're now immunized for just about everything we can immunize you for -- so it will be awhile before you have to endure another poke.

At the same visit, you had the following stats:
Weight: 36 pounds, 7 ounces (75%)
Height: 42 1/5" (90%)

These were very exciting numbers because it means you're tall enough to ride most of the rides at Disney World. It also shows that you are actually thickening up; we've had to loosen the waist adjustment on your pants in order for you to button them up. Finally -- eating Granna's pie with PapPap (read: 16 ounces of whipped cream with each ounce of pie) is working to fill you in.

Each night, we still sing our songs. "Feed the Birds" remains the favorite. But when you're truly ready for bed, you request "Stay Awake," and sing the first few words with me before falling quiet. Like in the movie, you close your eyes in the middle and by the end, are asleep.

Superman flies... and lands, 15 minutes before bedtime.

The Stats:
- 1 call to babysitter (our hermanita, Michelle) since Kate was asleep.
- 1 quick visit to Med School neighbor for a professional opinion.
- Just under 4 hours at Children's Hospital.
- Zero stitches, one big tube of glue.
- 15 minutes of holding and maneuvering (fatty tissue was problematic).
- 2 minutes on the exam table before he fell asleep during the wound cleaning.
- 1-2 day follow-up with PCP.
- 1 bet that after 1 year, the scar won't be visible.
- 2 very tired parents.
- 8:30am. Time we're suppose to be on the 9th floor of Oschner for Paul's post-op visit tomorrow.

Wearing Us Down

This morning, properties behind on taxes went up for auction from the city. This is when properties with deliquent tax bills go to folks willing to pay the back taxes. If the owner doesn't exercise their right of redemption, you get the property. A great opportunity if you've got some cash to sit for a little while. Jefferson Parish (next door to Orleans) had a similar process awhile back -- where an inside connection gobbled up everything before the locals had a chance to bid. Orleans Parish pledged to do better, making an online process.

Paul and I registered at the website days ago. We checked out a few properties. This morning, Wonder Woman Hermanita Michelle came and took the kids to school so we could be ready for the 8am opener. We were. When we went to buy, the system did not recognize our payment source. Hmmmmm.....

I sent this note to them and cc:ed the News folks at the T-P, not that any of it means anything. I guess the good news is that someone is investing in the city -- the bad news is that it's the same old people profiting at the expense of others.

Dear New Orleans Tax Sales,

I would like to log a complaint to the "currently open tax sale" and officially request formal documentation of the auction process.

I attempted to buy several properties this morning, having registered myself and payment source several days ago. For some reason, when I attempted to buy these properties, the system refused to recognize my payment source. Whether deliberately manufactured or due to a process -- one that was NOT outlined, described, or even suggested on the website -- this "systems error" caused loss of auction to both myself and others. The phones to your office have also been unreachable all morning.

Therefore, I would like to know the formal process to protest this process, whom to contact and with what forms, as it arbitrarily denied my right to bid.

UPDATE: At around 8:30, the system magically recognized our payment source and we did purchase a lot on a street not far from the school. We feel certain that the city will say the system was so overwhelmed it randomly worked for some and not for others... but I'd be willing to bet that a search of new owners will not look so random...

Thank you, Santa.

Can the world just stop so we can catch up?

Eventually, I will post about the past two weeks. For right now, I just want to give a shout-out to the Big Man in Red, to whom I owe a great debt.

We have been (once again) finding our selves in serious contemplation of leaving Will on the steps of his Grandparents' house and running for the border. In his highs and lows of development, he recently hit another Very Low Low. Back to having accidents. Biting his nails (not that this is ever stopped, but we noticed it getting worse). Talking in a baby voice. Being incredibly defiant, even having a few crying, stomping, kicking episodes -- which were rare to begin and had seemed a thing of the past. Then Emmy pointed out that Ana had begun doing many of the same things, something she chalked up to the situation with the death of their teacher's husband. (Lightbulb: these were all behaviors mentioned on that handy social-work provided form.) I sort of thought Will had handled it, talked about it, and was okay. Don't boys tend to move on faster from emotional situations? Maybe not. Either he is acting out from confusion or stress, or he's regressing at each birthday. Both are distinct possibilities.

Nevertheless, we had company (Paul's Mom, my parents, my Brother and Sister-in-Law). We had a birthday party. We had a lot of stuff going on. And then, Saturday afternoon, we started to put up the Christmas Tree.

This is where Santa comes in. Will began to ask about presents and Santa and presents. The perfect segway for parental warnings of good behavior, lists of children who do not behave, and keeping to the straight and narrow for a bountiful Christmas morning. Presents from Santa seem to be quite a motivator, because we have had some really nice, helpful, sweet moments with him in the last day. Let's hope it's a sign he's moving on into territory befitting to what Will tells me is more suited to a 4-year old. (He says 4-year olds don't whine, hit, bite, cry, talk back, act defiant, or have a bad attitude.) Cheers to that!

Happy 4th Birthday, Will!

From Aunt Julie to Will... Mommy's Most Favorite Birthday Message.

Thank you to everyone for all the birthday wishes!

Deep thoughts to come.

What is love at three?

How does a preschooler understand the complexities of love?

One of Will's teachers was notified during school on Monday that her husband had been killed in a car accident. Just like that. Right before the holidays. Even with the strength of youth, the support of community, and the love of many, how does one survive that kind of loss? How can this terrible thing happen to someone so good, giving, and patient? I do not understand.

Will had questions, too. Thankfully, a social worker had provided talking points for how to address our kids' questions... not that I had read it with enough detail. I had to wing it on gut and distant training, keeping my own stuff under control. He wanted to know if we could find children "to give Miss. Kynisha since hers got killed by the car." So, first we talked about people, how we are irreplaceable, nontransferable. "If I lost you, Will," I told him, "not even a hundred children could take your place." It occurred to me that maybe he was struggling with understanding relationships and maybe he had placed the event and seeing his teacher so upset within the context of a relationship he could understand: one that involves a child. I tried to address it. I explained that Kynisha's husband had died, "it would be like if Daddy died. If Daddy died, I would lose my husband."

"But Daddy is a DADDY, not a husband."

"Well, Daddy is a Daddy AND a husband. He is YOUR Daddy and MY husband."

"Just like Katey is my husband."

"Kate is your sister, Will. She is your sister."

"Kate is my sister AND my husband."

Pause. Refocus on the important parts. "Kate is very important to you. If she died, you would be really sad, right?"

Very very quietly: "Yes." Then, "Mommy? I need to be quiet now because I feel really really sad for Miss. Kynisha."

"Me too, Will, me too."

Insomnia

I'm worked up. Too much anxiety to sleep. Too heartsick to be still. Too tired to concentrate on grading.

To wind down, I'm wasting time on an interesting meme BC4 did awhile back. In it, you take the first 106 books from LibraryThing tagged as unread. (I just copied BC4's list.) Then, you:

Bold what you have read, italicize your did not finishes, strikethrough the ones you hated, put *asterisks next to those you’ve read more than once, and put a + cross in front of the books that are on your bookshelf.

This was the result (with some commentary)...

• Jonathan Strange & M. Norrell
• Anna Karenina
• Crime and Punishment
• +Catch-22
• One hundred years of solitude (On my short-list of ‘books I want to read, and soon, because I can’t believe I haven’t read them’)
• Wuthering Heights
• The Silmarillion
• Life of Pi: a novel
• The Name of the Rose
• Don Quixote
• Moby Dick
• Ulysses
• Madame Bovary
• +*The Odyssey
• Pride and Prejudice
• Jane Eyre
• A Tale of Two Cities
• The Brothers Karamazov
• Guns, Germs, and Steel: the fates of human societies
• War and Peace
• Vanity Fair
• The Time Traveller’s Wife
• +*The Iliad
• Emma
• The Blind Assassin
• The Kite Runner
• +Mrs. Dalloway
• Great Expectations
• American Gods
• A heartbreaking work of staggering genius
• Atlas Shrugged (I refuse to read Ayn Rand on principle)
• Reading Lolita in Tehran
• Memoirs of a Geisha
• Middlesex
• Quicksilver
• +Wicked : the life and times of the wicked witch of the West
• The Canterbury Tales
• The Historian
• A Portrait of the Artist as a Young Man
• Love in the Time of Cholera (On my short-list of ‘books I want to read, and soon, because I can’t believe I haven’t read them’)
• Brave new world
• The Fountainhead
• Foucault’s Pendulum (Not read this, but I have read plenty of Foucault)
• Middlemarch
• Frankenstein
• The Count of Monte Cristo
• Dracula
• A Clockwork Orange
• Anansi Boys
• The Once and Future King
• The Grapes of Wrath
• +*The Poisonwood Bible
• 1984
• Angels & Demons (Not read it, but I did read The DaVinci Code, which was enough literary torture to convince me to steer clear of Dan Brown)
• The Inferno
• The Satanic Verses
• Sense and Sensibility
• The Picture of Dorian Gray (I know I started long ago, but I’m not sure if I finished it?)
• Mansfield Park
• One flew over the cuckoo’s nest
• To the Lighthouse
• +*Tess of the D’Urbervilles
• Oliver Twist
• Gulliver’s Travels
• Les Misérables
• The Corrections
• +The Amazing Adventures of Kavalier and Clay
• The curious incident of the dog in the night-time
• Dune
• The Prince
• The Sound and the Fury
• +Angela’s Ashes
• +The God of Small Things
• A people’s history of the United States : 1492-present
• Cryptonomicon
• Neverwhere
• A Confederacy of Dunces (Another top must-read and soon)
  
• +A Short History of Nearly Everything
• Dubliners
• The Unbearable Lightness of Being
• +Beloved
• Slaughterhouse-five (I don’t feel a pressing need to read this, yet I’m a bit embarrassed that I haven’t)
• The Scarlet Letter
• Eats, Shoots & Leaves
• The Mists of Avalon
• Oryx and Crake : a novel
• Collapse : how societies choose to fail or succeed
• Cloud Atlas
• The Confusion
• Lolita
• Persuasion
• Northanger Abbey
• +*The Catcher in the Rye (I can't believe this book is on this list.)
  
• On the Road
• The Hunchback of Notre Dame
• Freakonomics
• Zen and the Art of Motorcycle Maintenance (I refuse to read it on principle)
• The Aeneid
• Watership Down
• Gravity’s Rainbow
• +*The Hobbit
• In Cold Blood
• White Teeth
• Treasure Island
• David Copperfield
• The Three Musketeers

Observations... although some on the list I had "issues" with one way or another, I couldn't say that I didn't like any of them. (The only books I can think of that I really haven't liked are Snow Crash and anything by Hemingway.) I'm also impressed that I've got so few on the bookshelf (an academic who purges books!) The "pluses" are therefore, by definition as something I've kept, books I really enjoyed. There were a number of books I'd never heard of on the list. A good exercise, if only because it reminded me that there are some fiction books that I really am enthusiastic about reading some day (I tired of fiction awhile back and haven't been able to re-engage.)

Benefits Put to Use

Thanks to the thoughtfulness of some of Paul's coworkers, he is getting disability for last week and this week -- a welcomed relief since now he is not eating through his precious vacation time as he recovers. This has made us feel so much better; Paul may not be able to drive or work long hours, but he can catch up on little things... like pulling the family video off of tapes and burning it onto disc AND drawing up plans on graph paper for the back of the house. We're trying to look at this as an extra bit of time to get really prepared for the renovation (since we are seriously delayed at starting it)... pricing out doors and windows, deciding on materials.

Paul's Mom left this morning and we are officially on our own. We were really lucky to have her here; if Paul had to loose his appendix, we're glad it happened the day his Mom was scheduled to arrive. One more pair of hands offers many moments of respite for me... they let me sleep in little two mornings and have generous time in the bathroom to do things working Moms only dream of... like brush my hair and floss. I'm the only driver now which brings one more logistical issue to the already overwhelming mess of kids, class, guest speakers, assignments, and grading. Through on party-planning, holiday prep, house plans, Paul care-taking, and general things like laundry and meals... wow. I have absolutely no idea how single parents manage. Thank goodness I have the Abeona Village helping out with the kids each day.

The assignments I had intended to turn back in tomorrow? Five are graded out of the two hours I worked on them. I've got 38 more to go. I'd really like to finish them on Wednesday before family arrives. I have high hopes for down time this holiday weekend!

Twelve Turkeys

In the chaos of the past two months, we had completely dropped the ball with Will's 4th birthday planning. Actually, maybe that is not quite fair... we had been thinking about it and researching/discussing options, but not made any choices. We knew that any party had to offer decent bouts of physical activity. Ideally, it needed to include Kate. Because we didn't want to be limiting in our invites, we wanted it to be flexible and open enough that the kids from the school could attend. We also wanted to limit the amount of work we had to do to a minimum -- in the party planning, party hosting, and kid-watching departments. The weather is typically beautiful in November, but can turn on a dime... is it safe to plan an outdoor party, we asked? Do we want to rent a big inflatable and put it in the park? (We nixed this for the logistic, kid-watching, ease of event issues.) Maybe at a local gym? We've been to one of these and it was great -- although it is sort of limited to a set number of kids. (We nixed this for time -- too close to the date -- and my inability to commit.)

Finally, we decided on Gymrompers. We attended a great 3-year old party there last year and it is a great place for a party... but maybe best for 2s and 3s? I am having a hard time with feeling like a bad Mom (are we choosing a place better for Kate than for Will?) but am hopeful it will be fine. Our worry is that Will (joined by older classmates) may descend into The Crazies and be too much for an indoor space (although it is a big indoor space.) Paul noted that this could be the case anywhere, so we shouldn't sweat it. I think that I will feel guilty and second-guess myself no matter what I do.

Gymrompers was booked solid for weeks -- but suggested the Friday morning after Thanksgiving. This sold us: family in town, folks wanting something to do, and two days after Will's actual birthday. So, we finally have a date, time, and place.

Thank goodness I remembered the invitations. Without Paul's reminder last night, they may not have gotten made!

Will made some fantastic TURKEYS -- of the hand cut-out variety. On the back of each is the party information. He took great pride in decorating each individually.

For example, this one is happy (note smiley face) and has a tail. (Or is laying an egg, depending on your interpretation.)
This one is happy, has a nose, and one foot.

This one is sad (note frown), has three legs, two tails, and ten eyes ("his name is 'Ten Eye.'")This one is both happy AND sad (note smiley and frown), has a belly button, and one very big foot.
This one is also happy and sad (although the frown does look a bit like a nose) and Will tried to write the name of his friend "JAMIE" on it. Will prefers to write backwards, which is why he wrote the letters he remembered (JME) from right to left.
Here he is, hard at work with Nana. He did a GREAT job making his invitations!

Drugs Good.

Paul is home and pretty chipper, all things considered. He has a two-week reprieve of all strenuous activities, which means the gutting of the back of the house we'd been planning for weeks is out of the question. So is the continued gutting and construction we'd been planning over Thanksgiving... and during the three days vacation Paul had planned to take around the holiday. Plans? What plans? Apparently they are very overrated.

But he's okay and that is what matters. It matters so much that it is even important enough for us to delay having a bathtub... and really, there is not much out there more important than this.

I finished and submitted the fellowship application. I owe special thanks to my friend in CA - the Sartre to my deBeauvoir - who came through at the last minute to help read when I couldn't anymore. Won't know of anything for 6 months, but it's done. Maybe 2008 will be a better year?

He's improving, but got stumped when asked for a witty title for this post

Paul is in one piece, minus an appendix. He went in sometime after 5am and was in recovery by 7:30 and in the room around 9am. Although the surgery went well, he had some post-operative complications with fever and trouble oxygenating. So, he may not go home today.

Right now, he is mostly comfortable, off oxygen, making jokes, and swollen from fluids. I am enjoying the room's reclining chair and great internet to finish my fellowship application due tomorrow (does the universe try to time these things all together on purpose?) Although he has asked, I've refused him access to the computer until he is well enough to proof-read my essays (which means he'll not be online for awhile). Paul's Mom arrived this morning (pre-planned trip) and is here in the room, too. The kids are good and at school; we'll bring them to see Daddy later today.

He loves the well-wishes so please feel free to send 'em on!

Paul Update

Paul is in the hospital awaiting surgery for appendicitis. He is temporarily happy on meds and will be happier when the offending organ is out. Keep thoughts positive for him and will update soon.

UPDATE: 1:21am. Paul is going in for surgery around 5 or 6am. His appendix had not ruptured (as of 7:30pm) so they are letting him wait a few hours to clear out some emergencies. I'll drop the kids off at school and join him in the hospital. Apparently, they do these things laproscopic-ly now, so he may even get discharged later in the day! Keep hopes high for a quick recovery!

Breaking Up is Hard to Do

As if the past week hasn't been bad enough. Phelm-y cough and stuffed head, sickly lost voice, broken foot (new theory: it wasn't the toe, it was bone(s?) in the foot... looking more into it later), the new car (which requires lots of foot action to drive), the kids feeling funky, Kate cutting canines, and busy busy busy everything.

Last night, I broke up with my committee chair.

Not that he necessarily got it, but I did do it. One of those post-storm causalities, my mentor, too focused on a new life in another state and disengaged with students here. Overwhelmed by project responsibilities over University ones (the projects are what bring in their salaries... the University pays very little or nothing depending on their contracts). Supportive, yes, but thinking of me, passing on opportunities, offering experiences worthy of my expertise and interests? No, not really. And it's not fair to expect it from someone who is just not here, physically or mentally. An unexpected post-Katrina reality: life is hard for everyone and some responsibilities get dropped. He's sticking on for awhile to get me through the next hurdle and then I need a change. Because this program cannot continue this way for me. My education and training will not continue to be post-storm collateral damage.

I'm hoping for support to get through an application process for a Mega Fellowship I'm applying for (due on Thursday) and to get through this defense. (Another application? I must have some deep-set hatred of myself.) But did I mention? I have my FINAL draft written. I finished it on Tuesday and sent it to committee, not that anyone on my committee has looked at it. Although it really is a milestone that I could take a moment to reflect and celebrate upon, truly, I'm too tired to notice.

Commence the shopping for committee members. Are there academic want-ads for this sort of thing?

I am tentatively scheduled (either for this coming Friday or the one following, depending on some faculty travel) to give an open, "formal," practice prospectus defense.... someone said it may possibly be the first since Katrina? I'm trying to show the Department good faith in my dedication and desire to really be a strong partner in it's improvement and recovery. And then... then, I really want to sleep for awhile.

Impressive

It's not that she can scramble onto the kitchen table is under 5 seconds. It's that she can do it with her cup of cereal kept perfectly intact.

New Set O'Wheels

We are once again a two car family. Sort of.

Remember the renovation to the back of the house we've been talking about doing since we bought the house? (In our defense, things like having a kitchen, a bathroom, and electricity took precedence.) Well, we are actually starting to really get started. Maybe not soon but some day in a future I actually can see, we may have another working bathroom. With a bathtub. This is all very exciting.

One of the hang-ups we've been having is over supplies. Namely, when we need something -- rebar for the concrete project outside, bags of concrete, a couple of 2x4s -- we have to borrow a truck or do multiple trips with our wagon, taking all sorts of extra precaution to not trash it. Because we do all this stuff ourselves (or, at least, Paul does it -- with the help of folks like my Dad and some of our friends -- me, my role is budgeting, research, and planning) we needed some sort of vehicle for this work.

So yesterday, Paul bought a TRUCK. Our previous truck (a purple Ford Explorer named Barney) was a serious work truck and was used as such. It was Paul's baby (think guy and his TRUCK) and we sold it shortly after moving to NOLA because we didn't use it enough to warrant keeping it. (Plus, living in Michigan had wreaked havoc on the poor thing.) Although he hasn't said anything to make me believe it, I think that Paul has felt just the tiniest bit lonely without a truck to bounce around in. So we are doing our best to emphasis the manliness of our new set o' wheels. (I'll post pictures later... I don't want to ruin the imagination.)

We have named the truck "IMPACTO ZERO" (dígalo en español, por favor). It is named after IMPACTO UNO, the most tricked out school bus we've ever seen (possibly the most tricked out school bus in the world) -- the very bus we took bouncing along the mountains of rural Honduras during the two summers we spent there. (IMPACTO UNO was spelled out in huge letters across the windshield and in back -- over the spoilers.) In honor of the Impact Uno, we are going to load up a cassette tape with Gypsy Kings' "Hotel California," Cecelia Cruz's "Yo Vivire," Michael Jackson's "Billie Jean," and lots of Air Supply to blast as we drive Impacto Zero around New Orleans.

I drove Impacto Zero for the first time today. Like all good trucks, I.Z. is a stick shift. The kind where your foot is almost completely disengaged from the clutch before it even thinks about getting into first gear. For those of you who remember my Sweet First Car, a silver 1981 Dodge Aires K Station Wagon loving named Roxanne (think of the Sting song), Impacto Zero is like a long lost brother. When I shift in the I.Z. the handle of the gear shift comes off in my hand. The passenger side door only opens from the inside. The A/C only works when set on "Max." The fuel gauge is broken ("just fill it up when the odometer reaches 200 miles"). And at least one random dashboard light is on for no reason for the entire ride.

It's just a tiny pick-up -- no backseat. I love driving it, but there is no chance either kid will be going anywhere in it. So, while we are a two car family, only one is actually a family car. This is Paul's workin' truck!

We picked it up for $2750 and are carrying minimal insurance on it; we hope to sell it in a few months when we're done with the renovation (stop laughing. we WILL finish it!) Other that the few minor oddities, it runs just fine, the engine is beautiful, and there are only 92,000 miles on it. I'll post pictures soon. Until then, take the opportunity to tell Paul about the coolness of his seriously manly truck.

For Today's Parental Freak-Out Moment...

I bring you the following information from Consumer Reports. Lead is everywhere, existing in a ton of your household goods and children's playtoys. Love that lead. Here is what they found:

Our lab tests detected lead at widely varying levels in samples of dishware, jewelry, glue stick caps, vinyl backpacks, children's ceramic tea sets, and other toys and items not on any federal recall list.

Samples of a Fisher-Price blood pressure cuff that is part of a toy medical kit had surface lead in worrisome amounts. Parents should remove this toy from use.

And more on that...

Our tests found high total lead levels in three new samples of a red toy blood pressure cuff from classic Fisher-Price Medical Kits purchased in the New York area and three samples from the homes of employees of the Consumers Union, the nonprofit publisher of Consumer Reports.

We detected the highest concentration of total lead, more than 10,000 parts per million, in a cuff that a child had regularly played with for the past two years.

Right. Like my kids. Because we totally have this set. The kids LOVE it. When Kate was a baby, Will used to give her daily check-ups.

Why oh why oh why are we still even manufacturing lead??

What's IN this season? Under 5 Art!

Self-portraits, decorated wrapping and tissue paper, earrings, paintings, votives, cards, and more graced La Divina on Saturday night. Will's self portrait is in the middle of the top row, above. When Will told us about making his self portrait (the kids had a full discussion and study of the shapes and colors of their faces before making the pieces) he told us that he has a very LONG head. With each display were detailed documentation about the kids' process in making each piece.

You can see some the documentation below. (Although the class picture in the center was taken by me in front of the Nix Library a month or so ago.) Will made about 10 pairs of earrings! I bought 5. I thought Will would be thrilled with me wearing his creations... but NO! He keeps telling me that I can't wear them because he made them "to raise money to buy animals for people who don't have food." When I explain that *I* bought them and gave money for them to buy the animals, he gives me a knowing look and says, "no you didn't." I wonder if he'll accept the cleared check as evidence?
We had a great time at the event. We were lucky that Sydney, our old neighbor (whose beautiful Bat Mitzvah we attended two weeks ago) called and asked if she could come over Saturday. So Sydney came along, which meant Paul and I had a break from constant Kate-wrangling. I don't think I would have been able to take pictures (or enjoy a gelato) had Sydney not been there!

These little paintings were awesome. Will had one called "dark" that our friend, adopted little sister, and Abeona curly-haired sub, Michelle took home.
I loved the cards!
Meanwhile, outside, the kids played. Ana decided she liked the lion outside of the sushi place next to La Divina. She sat on this perch, waving to people ("bye, have a nice night") as they passed.
Kids, patrons, parents, and more... can you spot Will and Kate?

Will joined Ana on the lion. I heard her whispering to him, "Will, we can stay here forever. We can watch all the people walk by. We can eat all the ice cream we want..." Sounded pretty good to me. Enticed by her offer, or maybe just happy to get away from some of the excitement, Will stayed there for awhile. (Long enough for Emmy and I to giggle at the two of them deep in serious conversation.) Then, when her (totally awesome) boots slipped off, Will jumped down and put them back on her feet. (I was too hit by cuteness overload to negotiate the camera properly and missed the moment.)


Although the kids haven't decided what animals they are going to purchase yet with their donation, they DID reach their goal... they earned enough to buy a cow!!

American Gothic

The original:

Our version:

To Kate, who is almost exactly 1 1/2 years old

Tonight, Kate, you and I had a special talk where I asked you why you are trying to destroy yourself. I used to think that your attempts at destruction were about chipping away at my sanity, following in the lead of your well-practiced brother. But after tonight -- when you (for the first time ever) pushed your legs under the table on the table leg so hard that you actually pushed the big wooden chair back on its two back legs and flipped the whole chair on its back with you and your booster seat firmly attached -- I no longer believe you're out to get anyone but yourself.Now that you have successfully thrown your self from two dangerous locales (your Aunt's stairs and now our kitchen table), I am very worried. These things come in 3s, my superstitious Grandmas taught me, and my instinct says you're going to give it one more go. At least.

While we had this Very Serious Discussion, you took the opportunity to put your toes in my mouth, fling your body on top of The Cat, and shout "ELMO" four or five times. I could tell you were listening intently as you rarely give that much attention or stay that still. This is not a sarcastic statement.
You are very clear about your likes and dislikes. Something you have decided to like, A LOT, is The Wubba Song. You remind us often of how much that song means to you. Like everytime we are in the car, when you shout "WUBBA!" until we play the song, even if we've just heard it 75 times in a row. Or, whenever you break into the study and start climbing things to get to a computer. When we race in the room after you, catching you with one leg on the desk edge perched and ready for the last leap up, you explain the whole event by saying, "Wubba." You just wanted to watch it on YouTube, that's all. Your love for Wubba even surpasses your love of The Imagination Movers, which has Daddy and I a bit depressed. (We really like grooving to "I Want My Mommy" and "Clean My Room.")

You are finally turning the corner from last week's bought of the Crud. It sucked. We slept very little, as you threw yourself around all night long. You were miserable and shared it well. We felt helpless, holding you tightly to try to keep you still long enough to fall asleep. Working to keep you warm in the cold snap (you refuse blankets), rocking you and walking you around for hours. Please show us some pity for the next few weeks while we catch up on rest.
At the Heifer International fund raiser last night, we discovered that you like gelato. And you like it A LOT. This is a surprise, since previously you've turned your nose up at all ice cream and gelato products (except once when you ate some of Dad's bacio -- chocolate hazelnut -- gelato). I had a cappuccino gelato in a cone. I wanted you to try it, smashing a bit on your face so that you'd lick it off. To my surprise, you responded by grabbing the cone and licking it with intensity. We tried to scoop some off and let you eat it from a bowl, but you wanted NONE of that. If we so much as TOUCHED the cone, you let out some pretty serious sounds. It is going to take a lot of work to get you through the next couple of years in one piece.

I am constantly trying to get a decent photograph of you and your brother, together, in the same frame, facing the same way, with a fairly pleasant expression on your face. This, The Holy Grail of sibling photography, is as unattainable to me as if it were buried somewhere in Israel with a Templar Knight standing guard. After years of fighting it, Will has resigned himself to the fact that his Mother is a paparazzi, so when asked he generally compiles with simple requests. You, on the other hand, are a blur in most photographs. It is hard on me, as you are changing so much each day and I look to my camera to help hold you still... for just a little bit longer...