Noodle turns 4!

Four years ago today, my life became complete. Happy Birthday to the most amazing four year old ever to grace my world. You have taught me to love life and to slow down to take it all in. Relish your every milestone, is what I promised I would do, as opposed to rushing them and marking down just how quickly you accomplished them. Crawl a little longer, you have your whole life to walk, speak like a baby, I will not correct you, stay little for as long as you can because getting BIG isn’t all it’s cracked up to be.

You have wanted to be BIG since you were born. You have walked in your BIG brother’s shadow, wanting to be BIG just like him. And today, you have decided that you are BIG. I have decided that it’s finally OK with me. Be BIG; go on, I will relish all that being BIG has to offer you.

Last night you went to bed three, but today you woke up four. YOU are BIG, just how big, you will never know. You have decided now is your time to do all of those BIG boy things you have yearned for your entire little life. Go on, go ahead, I am right behind you, I am looking forward to it, to see you do all you want.

Noodle, you are my sunshine, those eyes melt my heart. You have brought more happiness and joy to my life than you will ever realize. You’re bright, you’re cheery, you’re funny, you’re sweet, you’re sincere, you’re contrite when necessary, you are truly a remarkable boy, and I love you lots and lots.

You are my baby, you always will be, no matter how BIG you get, but today, BIG BOY, have a very Happy Birthday.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=EHzMCFgTid0

Love,
Mommy

Charlie Boo Boo Smiles!

Noodle, how'd you get that boo boo on your side?


I got it when I fell off my Charlie, Schmoogie.


When you fell off your what?


My Charlie.


Schmoogie looks at Noodle with that what the heck are you talking about look.

MY CHARLIE, Schmoogie, MY CHARLIE that I ride in the driveway, it's in the garage.


Schmoogie looks at me with such concern and says ever so seriously, "Mom, what the heck is he talking about?"


"Noodle, what's your charlie, honey" I say with the same look that Schmoogie gave him.


MY CHARLIE, Mommy, MY orange Charlie. You know what it is.


Just then, Schmoogie and I looked to each other and busted out in laughter. Just then, we knew exactly what his Charlie was. He meant his Harley, his Harley Davidson ride on toy.





Just then Noodle looks at us with this sort of disgusted smile and shakes his head back and forth as if he was thinking "Jeeze, these two just don't get it."


It was a moment not to forget.


Peace.

Remembering

I have been away for a while, honestly, enjoying some time with my children, not caring enough to share. Selfish, heh, maybe, but hey, this is my blog!

And then there is today, as I sit here at my desk with a knot in my stomach true sadness in my heart and know that writing will help.

On this day, eight years ago, I had dropped Schmoogie off at Gram's and was on my way to my office. Rockin to the tunes, singing out loud, cuz no one was listening, when just like that, the music turned to somber news of confusion and illogical chaos.

As I listened in disbelief, I continued my commute. Arriving to my office was strange, as those who made it there just moments before me scurried me to the radio, where we stood in a circle, listening. At the time, we weren't at all sure what we were listening to, and had no idea the magnitude of what was actually happening.

Little did we know that we were experiencing history, like none other that we had been alive to witness.

I cannot relive the terror I felt in my heart that day as we heard that people were jumping to their deaths, that the terrorists actually sacrificed themselves in the name of God, to torment Americans and for what?

After the smoke began to clear, and the real effects of that tragic morn actually began to sink in, I remember the solidarity that followed. You couldn't go anywhere without seeing an American Flag. People were kinder. We took turns easier. We looked out for one another, without reserve. This country turned into one big family for months to come following such crisis. You felt that strangers were no longer strange, but instead they were kind, gentle, neighbors. I wish we could always live that way, without having to live through a tragedy first. This country was different, it was changed forever.

Today, I remember those who perished for no reason, and those who continue to fight for our country, so those who perished did not do so in vein.

God Bless America today, and everyday.

Peace....for real.
P

Can you snap?

He can snap. He.Can.SNAP!

Do you remember learning how to snap your fingers? I do, my Daddy taught me to snap when I was about 5 or 6. I remember being so pleased with my new found talent that I snapped in the morn and snapped in the eve, heck, I snapped all day long.

Well Noodle just learned to snap. He is 3. He claims his teacher taught him, however, she will not accept the credit. She has no idea where he learned, but he snaps all day long at school. He snaps in the morn, in the eve, and all the day long in between.

He shows everyone his newly acquired talent and beams with pride as each new member of his lil audience is pleasantly surprised at his talent.

I have asked around, and some adults surveyed still cannot properly snap. Some can snap with various fingers, some with only one finger, some not even at all. So, while no one is really sure just how Noodle has learned to snap, I for one, am pretty impressed that he can at only three years old.

What's next, underarm noises?

Peace.

Spittin 20's for Ice Cream

I am a debit card whore.

I always use my debit card, very rarely ever even carry cash. What for, who needs cash anymore?

Well, last night after a very good day for the Noodle Doodle, I stopped off at the local Ice Creamery to get the Good Boy a well deserved treat.

Unfortunately the Ice Creamery does not succumb to prostitution, uh hum, I mean, take debit cards. Hmmm, so off to the cash machine we go. It sound archaic to even use those word, "cash machine", or how about the "ATM" heee heee? It just sounds so old skool.....

Thank gawd the bank has a drive thru ATM (hee hee-sounds so funny to me). We pull up, insert card, select ENGLISH (O.M.G.) and proceed to hit the prompts for $40 fast cash. All the while Noodle has a close eye on the process, as he has never experienced the cash machine.

Beep, Beep, a few more beeeeeps, and wahlaa, there it is, cash money spits out of the slot and I quick grab it.

Giggles galore from the back seat.

"Do it again, do it again Mommy, that was cool, can you do it again? Mommy HOW did you do that?"

He really has never been witness to the ATM, ever! I wish I could have stayed there all night sucking twenties out of this machine, without recourse, that would have been fun.

Instead, we took our funds and off we went to the Ice Cream Store, where the only take CASH! Are they the last on the planet to engage this practice, heck, even the farm stands take my debit card.

Peace.

The Gnarliest Dude

Today's theme at Noodle's camp was decade's day. Lucky for him, (read me), his group got the 80's.

I am an 80's girl through and through. I love everything about the 80's, the music, the clothes, and most of all the BIG hair!! If it were socially acceptable, I would still wear my hair as big as I could get it.

That said, I was an 80's girl, and Noodle is a boy .... I used my handy dandy texting machine to shout out to my friends for ideas. Flashing back to the way my brothers looked back in the day, and the way those ever so hawt 80's boyz looked, I came up with, I must say, very delicious recipe for the perfect 80's outfit for my lil Noodle.

He was soooo into it. The half shirt, cut off jean shorts, high socks, yeah, all a hit, but the fact that he got to wear SPIKES in his hair today put him in his glory.

So, without further ado, I present to you, Noodle, 80's style.....

...
...
...









Rock on baby boy, I heart the 80's, and you look phat dude!!! Thanks for making this so much fun for Mommy!

Peace.

(..and yes, his face is smudged purposely.)

Once upon a Prom

On Saturday, we sat on the coach and chatted before a very exciting day began. With uncertainty in his eyes, he says "Mom, I may have a shot at Prom King."

Wishful thinking is the immediate thought that came to mind. "Really Schmoogie, that would be cool, when is Prom?"

"Wednesday. You know Mom, the King and Queen are crowned based on the most gold slips you earn for excellent behavior and helping out without being asked, and I have a lot of gold slips."

Honestly, I am still thinking yeah, right....

Flash back four years, the old Schmoogie had just finished kindergarten and began camp for the first time. Aware of the gold slip awards, he earned two for the entire summer, approximately 8 weeks long.

Flash back three years, the old Schmoogie earned five gold slips for the entire summer....well, you get the point.

This year, he has been in camp for 2.5 weeks, and has earned the most gold slips in the entire camp. Coming in at 18 gold slips, his closest competitor, a girl two years older than him, had 14. OMG, I am so proud of him!!! Two and a half weeks people, 18 gold slips, unheard of!

At the prom today, he was crowned Prom King. He wore his crown with pride. He danced with pride. He sang karaoke with pride. He is the PROM KING!!

He didn't get as many pretzels as he had hoped, because the other kids gobbled them up as he was being CROWNED!

Oh my gawd, Schmoogie was the Prom King and I am his very, super proud Mommy!

A girl? Perceptive Child?

While putting him to bed last night, Noodle and I caught a few minutes of Nancy Grace, which evoked the following conversation.

Mommy, I don't like that girl.

That's not a girl, that's a man.

A man? Well, I don't like that man.

Why not Noodle?

Because he's weird.

What do you mean weird?

He looks like a weirdo to me.

Why?

Because he's scary Mommy, just looks scary to me.

What's scary?

He face. Why is his face like that? And, his hair what kind of hair is that, he looks like a really scary person.

I don't know Noodle, but he was a very famous singer, made amazing music long ago.

He did, is that his song playing now?

Yes, it is, do you like?

Yeah, but I no like that man.

It's OK, you will never see him Noodle, he is up in heaven now.

Go to sleep, I love you.

I love you too Mama, why does he look so weird?

Don't worry about it baby, go to sleep.

Peace.

Reunion Update

The reunion was fab. Catching up with old friends, sharing pictures of our beautiful children, swapping stories and interpretation of some of those stories is always charming. Seeing some of whom you haven't in nearly twenty years is always an adventure. Finally seeing someone that you have only had an instant messaging/emailing/facebooking relationship with, getting to meet their husband, and exchanging hugs as if you never parted, priceless.

I thoroughly enjoyed myself, Big D too, considering he knew as many there as I did. A room full of 39 and then some, part of which were proudly married with spouse in tow, others who were not so happily married or divorced, coming alone, props to you all.

Smothered by 80's music and pics of us all in big (and I mean BIG) hair, such sweet memories. Knowing that it didn't matter if they liked you in High School, and now having the confidence to not care, was refreshing. I was me and I was happy.

Mostly all were pleasant, excited, and having the time of their life. There was one though, and he will remain nameless, as I have already forgotten his name. Why? Well, I will tell you why.

I walked up to Mr. ITotallyDoNotRememberAnymore and the following transpired:

P: Hi, I know you.
Them: You do? I don't know you. He glances at my pin displaying my name and fancy yearbook pic.
P: Yeah, I'm Double P, married to Big D, hung out with Suzy Pancakes and Joe Blow.
Them: No, Can't say I remember.

Getting more embarrassed by the second, but not going to let it get the best of me, come up with this clever reply, to which I am still so proud of myself for.

P: That's because you weren't lucky enough to know me in High School.

And with that I turned on my heals, giggled to myself, took a sip of my drink, found my REAL friends and danced the night away.

HOW RUDE!! I mean really, I would have at least faked it, people have no class! Oh, and did I mention that he was standing alone. Hmmm, I wonder why, tee hee hee!

Peace.

OMG, 20 Years Ago I graduated HS!!!!!

It's been 20, well, 21 years since I graduated high school, and tomorrow is our reunion. They couldn't get it together last year, so we are having it a year late!

I am anxious, nervous, happy, silly, curious and most of all confident that I will have a wonderful time, with wonderful people! I am filled with wonderment.

Boy a lot has changed in the last 21 years. My how I have grown, personally, socially, family wise, and a little outwardly too! I am most excited to talk about my most prized accomplishment, my boyz. They are what really matters most to me. Funny to think back to that twelfth grade writing assignment of what do you want to accomplish in the next ten, twenty years. I am proud to say that no matter what I wrote back then, I am happier than I could have ever imagined!!

Looking forward to it, will report back with any exciting news.

Peace.

He's getting the BIG Truck

"When I get bigger Mommy, I 'm gonna get a BIG truck, wif BIG lights, and BIG seats, and BIG tires, just like my Dad." Announces the Noodle Doodle on the way to drop off at daycare today, hands flying all around as I gaze at him in the rear view mirror.

"Oh yea, a BIG truck, huh?"

"Yeah, Mommy, wif big lights, just like my Dad's."

(we're still working on the "th" sound)

His hands are making that BIG gesture, so big I thought he might crack himself in the head.

"Oh, sounds nice."

"You know, Mommy, I already am bigger, I mean when I get really bigger, that's when I'm gonna get that BIG truck."

He wants to be big so bad. Today I will try to start accepting that!

Peace.

Noodles Big Sleep Over

“Hey Noodle, do you want to sleep over at Grandma's tonight”, my mother so lovingly asked my baby.

“Sure, GaMa, I will love to sleep at GaMa's house”. He answered with affirmation.

My heart dropped and I lost my breath for a split second.

Noodle has never, ever, ever, even remotely, had one drip of desire to sleep outside of our home, and has never, ever had the need to. He has been asked before, and declined. He has attempted to stay out and changed his mind last minute. And, never, has there been such a definitive YES!

OMG, I wanted to pass out. He'll change his mind, I told myself to calm the about to come on panic attack.

Why?

Why did I react like this?

Schmoogie had slept over my parent’s house a gazillion times by the time he was Noodle's age. He had slept at my grandmothers, my sister-in-laws, even at a girl friend’s house, and I never felt like this. For the love of God, why, oh why, did I have such trouble with this?

After a mulling it over, missing him so bad it actually hurt, and then yearning to pick him up. After having him run into my arms to embrace a gigantic hug, kisses galore, a million and one I missed you’s, and then wishing for a moment's peace, I asked myself again, WHY did I react that way?

Well, he is my baby. He and I have one of those relationships, he's a mama's boy good boy, and he's my baby, oh I already said that, and, he’s my last, need I say more?

When our first bones are little, we cannot wait for their accomplishments, it's as if we want them to experience everything by the time they are a year old, and it’s insane, really. Once you experience just how fast it all goes by, you learn to embrace the little ones, and their stages.

This time, second child, I KNOW how fast it goes, and quite frankly, I don’t want to let go of his baby innocence. I am like this with every step of his existence, Noodle walked later than Schmoogie, he spoke later than Schmoogie, and we didn’t even correct his speech until recently. And, it is all okay; we weren’t as vigorous in the coaching, because I don’t want him to get big.

He stayed the night at my parent’s house, without crisis. I called three thirteen times, and by 5:05 last night, I had him back in my arms. I put him to sleep in my bed and just schmooched him all up, we snuggled, and I fell asleep with his warm (still baby) breath in my face, and I loved every minute of it.

I know I sound selfish, but a baby is only a baby for a short time, and I love my baby!!

Peace.

The BIG Goal Announcement

As many of you know, I am riding in the Tour de Cure for Diabetes this Saturday. I will be riding 16 miles honoring my best childhood friend’s daughter. At first, I wasn't entirely sure that I could complete the 16 miles, but today, I am certain I can do it.

Funny thing is, “training” for this event has rekindled my love for bike riding. I have dusted that bad boy girl off and given her a real workout. I have the same bike for about 12 years now, nothing fancy, just a typical street riding Schwinn bicycle, but I do love my bike. Unfortunately the ole gal was gathering dust hanging from her jumbo hook in the ceiling of my garage for quite some time. The bike, she and I have officially become one again!

It is my goal to continue riding throughout the summer and as long into the Fall as possible, taking a break over the Winter and begin again early next Spring. I would really like to complete the next level of the Tour next year, the 35 mile ride. Whew, that sure sounds like a long ride, so very, very far, but it’s a goal, a personal goal I am hereby setting for myself.

In order to do the 35 mile ride, I will need to really train hard, which I believe I can do, because of my love for riding. Only time will tell, but if I can do it, hell, there is a whole bouquet of benefits to come. I may end up in the best physical shape of my life, I will definitely be healthier, stronger and feel better, mind, body and soul. Those bene’s cannot be beat!

So I have done it, my hands dripping with sweat on my keyboard, I have set this goal! Wish me luck, and hey, if you would like to sponsor me for the ride this Saturday, I would really appreciate that!

Peace.

This is why I am so Happy!!

Big D rings the office at about 8:45 a.m.

"Everything O.K.?" I ask.

"Yeah, yeah, everything is fine. I just wanted to tell you the cutest thing that Noodle said to me on the way to daycare this morning."

I'm thinking something to do with Father's Day (or Farta's Day as Noodle says).

"Daddy, I am gonna miss Mommy today."

"Aww Noodle, that's so sweet, are you gonna miss Daddy too?"

"No, Daddy, just Mommy"

I have to tell you, That. Made. My. Day.

I miss him too, every Monday I miss both of my boys. It really is tough getting back into the work week groove after spending the entire weekend together.

Just to think that Big D would unselfishly pass that dialogue on to put a smile on my face.

Even though, the Noodle Doodle totally blew him off, he still gave me my props. That is why he is the best husband and Daddy ever and I am so happy!!

Big hugs all around tonight when the workday is over!
Peace.

The Perfect Pizza

Noodle and I went for a dinner date to the local pizza restaurant. It was nice and quiet, we chatted about his day at school, and "Mommy, what did you do at your office today?"

My salad arrives with his slice cut in half to create two mini slices and as we ate, we chatted a while more.

Just like that, the sweetest Italian lady appears with a wad of pizza dough, just the right size for those mini 31/2 year old fingers to mold.

"Go ahead", she says, "make a pizza."

Curiously, he asked her "how?"

"Usa your fingers, and make a pizza"

His small chubby little digits get to work, pushing and poking and maneuvering that dough.

Molding the perfect pizza is hard work, you know.

She comes back and asks him, "are you ready for the rest?"

He looks to me for reassurance, "the rest?" he asks, "sure!" (With that there's more look on his face)

She quickly shuffles away and comes back with two small plastic containers, one filled with sauce, the other with perfectly shredded mozzarella, and a spoon.

"Here you go, spread the sauce and sprinkle the cheese, I will be back in a bit."

He immediately gets to work. First the sauce.

Then the cheese.

I asked him if he remembered to add a dash of love. Love always makes everything taste better....He said he did!!

Impressed with his work, she brings it to the big oven. He watches her every move, eyes widen by the second.

Every time the oven opens he gets excited, "there it is, Mom. MOMMY, there is my pizza"

The long awaited final product arrives complete with a box for the masterpiece.

Man, that was fun (for both of us)!
Peace.

BTW, I am riding in the Tour de Cure for Diabetes, will you sponsor me?

I am Riding for a Cure

When my life long friend called me nearly 8 years ago to tell me her 7 year old daughter was admitted to the hospital, I, like anyone else, was devastated to find out more.


"She has been diagnosed with childhood diabetes, aka, Type 1 diabetes", she explained.


"She will be insulin dependent for the rest of her life", she sobbed.


I immediately drove to the hospital. We cried, we hugged, we thought of how this would not only change her daughter's life, but how it would change the entire family. There were two other sisters, one older, one younger.


We continued to talk, and then, I remember saying to her, you know, lets be grateful that it's only diabetes, and nothing worse.

Just then, things changed. My friend realized that she could muster up the strength to take the disease head on and learn how to live with it. It's not life threatening, after all, unless it goes untreated.

So, learn she did. She read and watched everything she could get her hands on. Sugars, carb counting, insulin measurements, oh my. Within no time, she was an expert.


Today, at fifteen (15) my dear friends daughter is a happy, otherwise healthy, gorgeous teen.


Recently, when I learned the Tour de Cure would be in my neighborhood, it was a no brainer. In five minutes (literally, thanks to Facebook) I assembled a team, and was registered to ride 16 miles to help find a cure for this disease on Saturday, June 27th.


As a participant, I need to raise money for the cause, and could really use some help. Would you sponsor me?


Peace

June came really quick this year.

Remember the good times you spend with those you hold dear, because like they say, all good things must come to an end.

I was feeling overwhelmed with sadness as I concluded a phone call with Schmoogie's third grade teacher. She explained that he is sad to see the end of the school year is nearing. He is upset that he will not get to see her each day. He has really grown to love Mrs. B, and so have I.

For Schmoogie, it has been one of those years where your child falls into who he is, who he always wanted to be, who he was meant to be. With the selfless guidance of Mrs. B. and personal maturity, Schmoogie has been polished this year.

He has always been a shining star, always the love of my life, always an intelligent, athletic and charismatic child. But this year, he has become more. He has developed the skills that will make him the best kind of friend and just the gentleman any Mother could ask for.

More good things are to come, of that I am sure. New chapters in the life of a Scholar Athlete will soon be here. However, for now, Mrs. B, I do believe your goal has been met. Thank you so much for being the that teacher that students hold in their hearts for years to come. We have been blessed with the opportunity to have had you in our lives.

As for you, kiddo, your father and I are so proud of your accomplishments this year. We are thrilled that you have the natural ability to effortlessly excel. You never cease to amaze us. Here's to a terrific summer stock piled with camp and sports which will lead you into your next chapter, forth grade.

Can it get any better?
Peace.

Noodle's in Trouble

Noodle came home from school (daycare) with a laundry list of infractions for the day. Doesn't happen often, as he is a relatively well behaved child.

Surprised, I acted so. Bright eyed and that NOOOO? is what I exuded, not knowing that it was only the first on the list.

"Mommy, I said potty words."

"Tell Mommy what else you did" Big D coaches from the couch.

"Oh. And. What? What Daddy, what else I did?" He had already forgotten.

"Tell her what you said to Miss. D." He is smiling at me from the couch, as I am left to be the disciplinarian in the kitchen.

"Oh. That, Mommy I say "NO" to Miss D."

The eyes widen and the NOOOO becomes, NOOOOOOOOOO!

"And tell her what else, Noodle." Comes from the cheerleader Dad.

"What else? There's more?" The eyes were bulging at this point.

"Oh, and I hit my friends."

"OH MY Noodle!"

A brief lecture loaded with disappointment, drenched with Mommy guilt and sprinkled with an affectionate expectation occurs and the tot decides he will NEVER do those things again.

Giggles from the other side of the couch are muffled by a throw pillow. Yes, Schmoogie found humor in all of this.

Why? I asked myself, well, why not? Noodle doesn't give us much grief and is rarely "in trouble." Schmoogie, on the other hand, is the king of punishment in our house. I guess he thought it was funny that someone else was getting the disappointed bulging eye NO's instead of him.

Kids.
Turned out to be a good night!
Peace.

Overscheduled?

Is it really fair to make him choose between two activities that he truly loves (and is really good at) next year when we delve into the LAX/Baseball overlap?

Big D and I have always said that we would NEVER overschedule our children with extracurricular activities. It isn't fair to them, and it really isn't fair to us either.


As you know, Schmoogie tried Lacrosse this year, and, as it turns out, he is pretty awesome at it. I was concerned because practices would overlap with the up and coming baseball season's practices and early season games. It was a bit of a juggle, but we made it through, while both coaches knew in advance that there may be an occasional conflict. With the final game of LAX, this Sunday, now we are able to solely focus on baseball.

Baseball season should be interesting this year, as Schmoogie has been selected for the All Star Team, and a newly formed traveling world series team. Lot's of baseball ahead!

Big D and I were chatting about what to do next year, when we are faced with the LAX/Baseball overlap, because, admittedly, it was a constant juggle. We have agreed that Schmoogie, who is not like all kids, NEEDS stuff to do. It just works for him. He has always been a very active child, has always needed constant attention, and has always needed to be moving. For him, it will work. We have decided to allow him to play both sports at the same time, so long as he wants to do that come next year.

This decision was not made lightly, we thought long and hard, went back and forth, but in the end, we feel it will work for our child. And, most importantly, he maintained his school work, without ever even a threat of falling behind.

Note: SCHOOL Work ALWAYS comes first in our house, and there was never a night when Schmoogie went to a practice or a game without homework done.

A totally different discussion may take place when faced with similar circumstances for Noodle. One never knows, and we may find that, he like many other children, may not be able to handle two sports at one time.

Peace.

Field Day 09

He awoke with a sparkle in his eyes and a smile on his face that you could see for a mile. It was afterall, the most wonderful day of the school year, FIELD DAY!

Decked out in his favorite silky shorts, the official Field Day t-shirt, fastest sneakers he owns, clean socks and his coolest undies, he enters my bathroom and applies deodorant. "Mom, I'm Ready" declares Schmoogie. He is all set for the big day!

The cooler is packed, we are armed with energy enhancing goods, including carrots, cucumber slices, water bottles and juice bags for the class.

The rain gives way and allows the sweet sun to shine through. It will be a great day. Dolce and Gabanna's on, we are off.

I explain to the Schmoog~Master in the car that I, as a child wasn't as enthused about field day. "See Schmoogie, they didn't have fourth and fifth place ribbons, the didn't have "participation" ribbons, so I, very rarely ever got a ribbon."

I go on to tell him "one time I remember receiving the first place blue ribbon for the tug of war." (You know tug of war is a class event, and the win was no thanks to me, that's for sure!)

Quick stop for breakfast sandwiches and we arrive the school.

We eat breakfast at one of the picnic tables.

Set up our sheet under his classes tent.

Carry over the cooler and into the classroom to help Mrs. B apply tattoo's on all of Schmoogie's classmates' arms.

Out to the field for the day to begin...

Second place in the 50 yard dash.

First place in the 400 meter race.

First place for the three legged race he so eloquently won with his pal from his class!

Now it's time for tug of war. I lead the class in chants to encourage their enthusiasm, have them flex their tiny muscles to arouse their adrenalin flow, chicken dance their finger tips to get them ready for an ultra tight grip on that rope. One of the Dads spell out some more strategy. First you dig your feet, then lean back and pull! And they are on. Mrs. B's Bolts are strong, the girls turn up the girl power and the anchors are secure.

PUUUUULLLLLL! The parents, janitors and other school staff cheer them on.

They were psyched. They did really well, blew away the first competitors, and were ready for the next. Only, the next team was big, they had been practicing, they looked ready, I was nervous, but our kids were ready too.

PUUUULLLLLLL!

They got us, but hey, we did well, 2nd place, not too shabby!

At the conclusion of the morning activities, I make my way to my office. Big D will stay and enjoy the afternoon's water events.

The most wonderful day of the school year was exciting, fun and a great time for the kids to let loose, and have some fun. It was great! Congrats Schmoogie, you rock!!

Peace.

UPK for Noodle?

Our school district began offering a UPK program two years ago. I was thrilled, because Noodle will qualify, or so i thought, this September.

Our elementary school is UPK through 4th grade. Next year, Schmoogie will be in fourth grade, and Noodle becomes UPK age eligible. Perfect, Noodle will get to ride the bus with Schmoogie and get acclimated to the school making the kindergarten transition a breeze, right? WRONG.

It's a huge game, and we came out losers.

Mark your calendars for one of the coldest days in April that we have ever had and go wait outside of the building where registration will take place. Get there early (like 6:00 am, early), because space is limited, and it's first come first served procedure.

I arrive early, not 6 am early, but early enough. I stand outside freezing with the dozens of other parents eager to get their 4 (or almost 4) year olds into Pre-K. With necessary paperwork in hand, I make a mental checklist. Birth certificate, check. Tax returns, yes I said tax returns, check. Immunization record, check. Utility bill, check. I am all set.

UPK is a half day program, whereby you select am or pm class times, and need to have daycare lined up for the other part of the day. First and second year UPK classes included two am and two pm classes and, you could request that they bus your child to your daycare center afterwards, perfect! CHECK, CHECK, CHECK!!!

I excitedly complete the necessary paperwork and stand in line, waiting for two hours to finally be greeted by the Registrar, who informs me:

There will only be one am and one pm class, unless the budget changes. We no longer bus to your daycare choice. Because Noodle will not turn four by September, he cannot board the bus, you will need to drive him until his 4th birthday. Low income families, and those with special needs will get priority.

Check, check....CHECK OUT! Why didn't they tell me this before???

Call me dumb, but I remain hopeful. Maybe the second set of classes will open up and I could drive him back and forth for two month, oh, and maybe I will get a babysitter or a Nanny, at least Noodle will get to ride the bus with Schmoogie for most of of his first year of academics.

WHAT AM I CRAZY?! Well, as it turns out, yes, I am crazy.

Months have past without notification, so I call the UPK coordinator. Here is what I heard...

Noodle is number 7 on the waiting list. We had more indigent applicants this year than usual, and they have filled up most of the available slots. Unless another class opens, it sounds like your son will not be able to attend.

WHAT!?

I wonder how much those who were accepted pay in school taxes each year. OH YES I DID GO THERE! I am pretty burned by this whole procedure.

So, he will stay at his daycare, who offers a wonderful Pre-K program, for next year, and will have to board the bus without his big bro, should be interesting. As usual, I am keeping a positive attitude that he will not hang on my leg to the point of being shaken off to get on that kindergarten bus.

Peace.

Deductions de Noodle

Mommy, the car wash is open. Your car is dirty. We should go to the car wash.

Mommy, I like cats. Cats are soft and cozy. We should get a cat.

Mommy, who's light sabor is that?
I got it for B for Christmas, but he already had one, so I am going to save it for the drop box next Christmas.
Oh, well, I don't have a light sabor. I like light sabors. You should buy that one for me.

Ahh, the delicious deductions of a three year old. If life was only so simple. 'Tis the reason I have such angst about my children "growing up". It's such a bittersweet evolution. I love that they learn, discover and mature, but I fear that the "real" world will corrupt their sweet little selves.

Logic and reasoning skills are so innocently developed at such a young age. Why then as we age, do we allow that very innocence to be dipped in evil which becomes deception and manipulation?

Didn't set out to have a negative post, hmmmm.

Peace.

A day at the beach....

A rainy day at the beach is still better than a great day at work!

Yesterday, I was one of many chaperone's on the annual third grade field trip to Fire Island. I was so looking forward to this trip since last September, when Schmoogie's teacher told me of the excursion. I was elated to take the day off from work, take the school bus to board the ferry and frolic at the beach with my son. We'll have to drench ourselves in sunscreen, wear a funny hat, tank top, shorts, ooooh the sunshine and warm sand in our toes will be such a treat. We'll have lunch on a blanket, skip rocks into the ocean, gather shells, take in all of the freshly blossomed foliage along the boardwalk trail. What a fantastic day it'll be, Schmoogie!

So, yesterday, the day arrived. Almost ready, I had to remember to packed my positive attitude, as we embark on our field trip. The picture was quite different than Schmoogie and I had imagined. We were fully clothed from head to toe, sans sunscreen, add sweatshirt, umbrella, baseball hats, and a towel not for sitting on the beach, but rather for drying off. Throw in the rain jacket purchased at the beach's gift shop, and we had ourselves a field trip.

The rain was relentless. We still had the best time ever, and heck, who needs sun to have a nice day anyway? It was great, we still collected shells, ate lunch on the blanket (with our hoods up), we raced through the boardwalk trail, opposed to slowly taking it in, and basked in the rain. The kids played rain football on the beach while the Mom's (and Dad's) took shelter utilizing the fenced in garbage corral.

It was still better to spend my day with Schmoogie, the other chaperone's and their children, who are incidentally our friends outside of school, rather than being in my office.

We hoped for fun in the sun, and turned it into fun in the rain!

Peace.

No Adult, No Pool, That's our Rule!

While rounding out the holiday weekend at a friend's house, the kids were all geared up for a fun-filled afternoon of swimming and bbq.

"The rule is no one in the pool without an adult there," the hostess reminds the kids as they run towards the pool area.

Sighs, grunts and groans come from six very anxious children all ready for a sweet dip in the 82 degree heated pool.

"Come on Mom, I am a good swimmer," declares Schmoogie.

"Not my rule, not our pool. Sorry Schmoogie," my clever response.

As I assist our hostess with the final touches, Big D steps up to the plate and steps into lifeguard mode. The splashing begins.

Noodle, who always wears swimmies and holds onto a noodle or kickboard decides to jump in with the kickboard, sans swimmies. Big D is impressed.

Seconds later, Noodle lets go of the kickboard and sinks to the bottom of the pool. The lifeguard, decked out in his party gear, cell phone in one pocket, cash and wallet in the other, jumps in the pool and retrieves the very shaken Noodle.

After the scare, the day progresses without further incident, all is well. Glad I spent all that money on swimming lessons.

A rude awakening to say the least, considering our pool will be open on June 4th. Over dinner last night, I reminded my darling children that the previous day's event could have yielded a very different outcome, had Big D not been there. It was dramatic conversation, it needed to be. I made the announcement that there will be no swimming, no children in the pool area without an adult, no exceptions.

Sure, there was a little grief from Schmoogie, then the reminder that he didn't even notice his baby brother at the bottom of the pool, and even if he had, he couldn't have done anything to help him. Grief ceases.

For the first time, I am nervous about our pool.

Peace.

Memorial Day Weekend Preview

So, it's officially summer? Not really, isn't June 21st the first day of summer? Either way, the warm weather has finally graced us here on the North Fork, and we are about to baste in it and drench ourselves with sunshine, outdoor activities, and warmth. I say, BRING IT ON!

Memorial Day Weekend, oh, yes, when we begin to relish all that summer has to offer. I cannot wait to get this weekend started. I can almost smell the hamburgers and hotdogs grilling on the open flame, hear the sweet sounds of childhood glee, and see the pollen covering my car. Well, two out of three isn't bad.

Should be a nice one, we have a birthday party, some lax practice, baseball practice, perhaps a dip in a friend's pool, and defiantly BBQ!

I'd like to get in a nice walk to see the cows and the llama around the way, a bike ride to the water just past the Meeting House Creek Inn would be lovely, and maybe a wiffle ball game with the neighborhood kids. That's my idea of a good summer weekend.

No matter what else the weekend brings, I will be perfectly happy as long as I get to spend lots of time outside, preferably without a jacket, sucking up the sun with my three favorite peeps in the world.

Love you guys,
Peace.

Spontaneity for P

For the first night in over a week, we do not have anything to do tonight. No LAX, no baseball, no exercise class, no personal trainer, no playdate, no shopping to do, no nothing. Great, you say? Then why, all day, am I stressing out about what to do tonight?

What will I make for dinner? Should we just go out to dinner?

Will Schmoogie remember that I "promised" him (3 or 4 days ago) a trip to KMart for a desperately needed triangular shaped bakugon?

Should I call my walking buddies for a walk tonight?

Maybe I can get some cold cuts, or make PB&J's and head to the beach for a picnic. Oooooh, that's a good one, the kids can play on the playground, look for shells, Big D and I could walk the beach. Oh, that's right, Big D isn't much of a beach fan. Oh well, maybe I could go with the kids, but I haven't had a solid conversation with my husband in at least five (5) days.

See my dilemma's? It's as if I have to fill my three little hours between picking up Noodle from daycare and just before bed with stuff to do. Well, I have just decided that I do not have to fill those hours with anything.

I have a feeling the spontaneity will do me some good. We shall see!

Hope you have a great night, I'm pretty sure I will!

Peace.

A Mother's Day to Remember

With excitement in their eyes, their hands filled with handmade treasures, their hearts filled with love, they jump on my bed and shout “Happy Mother’s Day!”

A handmade silhouette of my first born, the tiniest of flower pots with first week sprouting, and a white gift bag filled with pink and brown tissue paper and a gift card to East Wind Spa drown me as I awake from sleeping in, yet another gift for the day.

I gaze into both sets of eyes and admire their gigantic smiles and offer a big Mama hug to both of my adorable children. I squeeze them both, simultaneously and grin with happiness, inside and out. I lovingly look at them again, and thank them for giving me the privilege to be a Mother. I love being a Mommy, I love being their Mommy.

A buttered bagel and hot cup of coffee await my arrival at the kitchen table. As I indulge, my three favorite people and I chat about what the rest of the day has in store.

A late brunch at one of the finest restaurants on the North Fork, with Grandma and Grammy turns out exquisite.

As we finish up brunch, with nothing really planned for the remainder of the day, Big D’s cell phone rings with a lovely invitation.

“We’re heading up to Martha Clara with the kids, hoping you can join us.”

“I will talk to P, I’m sure she’ll be in, sounds like fun.”

We spend the rest of the afternoon sipping wine with friends, as our children run and play in the open fields overlooking breathtaking views of grape filled vines. Kite flying, ball playing and picnic baskets are flowing. Animals are out for viewing and a pirate ship shaped playset occupy more of the time for our children. Fresh air and warm sun nestle us as we enjoyed all that Mother’s Day had to offer.

It truly was a day to remember. I hope yours was too.

Peace.

Solution to the Shower Time Blues...

Schmoogie never minded water in his face. You could wash his hair in the bath or in the shower, and just dump the clean water over his head to rinse, or stick his lil head under the shower head and let it run down. He would just shut his eyes, ever so tightly, so no water would get in, and smile the whole time.

Noodle hates water in his face. He cries, cringes, shakes, tightens up, etc. He cannot stand to get his hair washed. I have tried all the remedies to no avail. I usually just give him showers for times sake, quickly rinsing, with dry towel in between my knees ready to dry that delicious wet face, just as soon as the water runs clear. He still cries, cringes and shakes, every, single, time. It's heartbreaking, stressful and at times extremely frustrating, until now!

Just as Noodle is getting ready to enter the torture chamber (our shower), he spots a pair of swim goggles graciously left by the Easter Bunny, meant for the new pool this summer, and Big D thinks it funny to put them on and "go show Mommy, tell her you're ready for the shower".

Genius! I think out loud, can it really work??

Well, it seems, we have found the perfect solution to the water in the eyes blues....

You have to creatively wash around the rubber strap in the back of the head, so I will need to be diligent about ensuring different placement of the straps each shower. But I figure, hell, if I can get most of those blonde strands clean without a tear, without cringing, without shaking, I am golden!

Peace.

Three Boys, Three stories, all aged Three

While engrossed in Nancy Grace last night, my emotions are all over the place.

I am elated to see the three year old from Missouri is found, safely, in the wooded area near his home. The joy and relief in his parents hearts must be overwhelming. The picture of little Joshua laying in the hospital bed eerily resembles my Noodle.

As I embrace my three year old and thank God he is safe, secure, happy and sleeping in our home, the stats for the three year old boy taken at gunpoint from his home in Southern California flash across the screen and my eyes fill with tears.

MISSING: Briant Rodriguez
Last Seen: May 3, 2009
Age: 3
DOB: The same day my Noodle was born.
Height: 3'0''
Weight: 40 lbs.
Hair: Black
Eyes: Brown
Location: San Bernardino, California
Notes: Police say Briant was kidnapped at gunpoint during a home invasion.

Eerily close stats to those of my baby, who lay asleep, next to me. I think it must have been the birthdate that really hit home. Little Briant was born on the same day as my Noodle. To be ripped from your home in such a violent fashion, by strangers, with guns. I can't even imagine the fear in his little eyes, the fear of the unknown, while his little body must be shaking with fear, what could have been running through his mind?

With all of my heart, I hope the gunmen return him safely to his home, where he belongs.

Link to Missing Poster
Have info? 800-78-CRIME OR www.wetip.com

Peace.

Got to Love a Challenge

I stumbled upon this blog, sort of by accident, mostly because I love Sunflowers. While there, on my very first visit, I was hit with a challenge. Intrigued, I took the challenge and got jiggy with my creativity.

Here is what I came up with:

Winter has passed as the warm sun shines through giving hope for the splendor of Spring. As the cool moisture dissipates you can hear the chirping and giggles of the smallest of earth's creatures embracing its marvel.

This is what they had to say:

P!!! Love it -- just beautiful!! I love tiny pieces that sparkle and allow me as the reader to slip into the mind and heart of the writer. Both you and Metzy have done that for me. I am very happy that you both found so much to be optimistic about, too. It reinforces my basic belief that life is good. Thanks for posting and welcome to Sunflower Ranch!

It was fun, let me know if you too are going to embrace the challenge, and copy your reply to my comments section.

Peace.

Sixty Degrees of Shorts

Schmoogie would wear shorts all year round, if he could.

He would never wear a coat, jacket or even a sweatshirt, if he could.

Silky shorts and t-shirts would be Schmoogie's ideal dress attire every single day, if he could.

On the North Fork of Long Island, we experience varied temperatures of the seasons and all their splendor. Most years, from late April to early October, the temperature tends to be around sixty degrees or more. Sure there are those chilly, rainy April (and May) days, (which seem to be never ending this year) but for the most part, from Spring to Fall, the thermometer tries to reach sixty each day.

Since Kindergarten, when Schmoogie discovered that "Coach," the Physical Educator at his Elementary, wore shorts year round, the negotiations began.

"Why cant I wear shorts in the winter, Coach does?"

"Schmoogie, it's way too cold to wear shorts in December, it's ten degrees outside."

"But Coach wears shorts."

It was at that time, I became my mother.

"You're not Coach, you're Schmoogie, and you cannot wear shorts in the winter."

"That is soooo unfair, then, when can I wear shorts?"

As I reminisced about the soon to come Spring, I said, "In the Spring, when it's warm."

The ever so clever, at the time, Kindergartner replied with, "Well, how many degrees is that, because if I cant wear shorts when it's ten degrees, how many degrees does it have to be?"

"Sixty, sixty degrees to wear shorts, now that's enough, lets talk about this in the Spring."

So, just as soon as the sun makes it's way from behind the miserable clouds of winter, just as soon as that pretty sun peeks her face out onto the North Fork, the question comes, everyday. Every. Single. Day.

"How many degrees is it going to be today, can I wear shorts?"

I used to worry about it, now that he is in third grade, and NEVER, ever show signs of being cold, I have conceded that once that mercury hits 60, it becomes Spring in Schmoogie's world and the shorts come out to stay.

Here we are in May, and he wears shorts to school every day, together with a long sleeve polo (in accordance with the dress code) until the mercury surpasses 60, then it'll be a short sleeve polo.

This morning, after dressing myself in long trousers and a long sleeve blouse, complete with a cardigan for when I get a chill later, I lay out clothes for Noodle, a sweatshirt and sweatpants, with an undershirt. Just then, Schmoogie emerges from his room in his shorts. I just shake my head and continue on.

The boy will not freeze, he is comfortable, I repeat in my hear, over and over.

As I get into my car to make my way to my office, and glance at the digits reading 51 degrees, I shake my head, and again, remind myself that he wouldn't wear shorts every single day if he were cold.

Sigh. If I have learned one thing in my nine years of motherhood, it is to choose your battles, in this case I have chose not partake in a battle.

Peace.

Nice Car

By now, many of you know, Noodle and I have been hit with a late strain of the influenza virus. NO IT'S NOT SWINE FLU! We have been doing a lot of sleeping, puzzles, t.v watching, and singing!

While driving from his pediatric office to my doctor's office, we happened upon this beauty below, which I thought to myself, man, that's a nice car. We were stopped at a light and I couldn't help but admire the gorgeous white leather interior, fancy schmancy exterior, wow, I thought, maybe someday.

With that, Noodle, all sick and feverish, from the back seat utters, "Mommy, that's a nice car."

The kid's got some good taste, sick or not!

Peace.

Bottle It Up

While driving the babysitter home last night, this song was playing on the radio, and I couldn’t help but immediately make a mental list of what I would bottle up right now, if I could.

Rounding out the top of my list are:

~ My baby’s sweet innocence, I wish I could keep him this age forever,
~ My Schmoogie’s giggle induced dimple and his sweet smile,
~ The warmth of Big D’s touch and his ability to make me smile, inside and out,
~ The soothing sound of the laughter I share with my children when we convert my kitchen floor into a dance floor, and,
~ Kisses, hugs and those special smiles that replace a kiss or a hug from across the room.

The list could go on and on, but those were first to come to mind.

If only I could bottle it up, I would, “do it for love”.

I have always enjoyed the tune of this song, now it seems to sound just a tad sweeter.

Peace.

Kiss-Miss - Kiss-You

“Oh, I lik-a da geen shirt mama, it’s like kiss-miss”, says Noodle.

“Kiss-miss? Kiss ME,” I immediate reply.

“I didn’t say kiss me, I said kiss miss”.

“I know, but it sounded like you wanted to kiss a miss and I am a miss”.

“No mommy”, giggles the delicious Noodle. “I said KISS-MISS, like SANTA”! “ You know, Santa, Mommy”.

“Oh, silly Mommy, I thought you wanted me to kiss you”!

He continues to get himself dressed.

AAA-choooo…

“Bless you Noodle”.

“Thank you. Mommy, I need a tissue”.

Running with the tissue behind my back, I smooch him all up.

Giggle, Giggle.

“Mommy, I need a tissue”!

“Oh, I thought you said Kiss You”!

“I said tissue, not kiss you! Mommy, you so funny. I always love you”.

“I always love you too Noodle”.

Peace.

Getting Dressed

First I wanted to remind you that Noodle is 3 and Schmoogie is 9!

“Mama, I want to get myself dressed today, I’m a big boy”, states the very independent Noodle.

"OK buddy, here is everything you need, are you sure you don’t want Mommy to help you”? (Sense the desperation in my voice with a thread of hope that he still NEEDS me to help him)

“No, Mommy, I am a BIG now, I want to do it all by myself”.

“OK Noodle”.

He emerges from his bedroom fully and accurately dressed. Sigh.

“Look at me Mama. I did it all by myself”.

“Oh wow Noodle, you did do it all by yourself, and you look awesome, what a great job! You are a big boy”. Sigh.

Flash forward fifteen minutes. I am in my bathroom finalizing my morning routine to get out the door and to work.

“Mom”?

“What’s up Schmoogie”?

“What’s wrong with this shirt, it feels funny today”?

“Uh, maybe because you put it on backwards.”

Funny how things work out sometimes, isn't it??

Peace.

Welcome Baby Javula!

My mother, after celebrating her birthday on this day for 59 years, welcomes her sixth grandchild, with whom she will now share April 21st.

Today, I introduce my brand new baby niece, Javula (pseudo-name). Weighing in at a healthy 8 pounds 2 ounces she made her debut at 1:40 a.m. via cesarean section (it was a valiant effort, Meglet). My brother and my sister in law are thrilled about the arrival of the third, first girl child, to their family!

Excitement fills my heart today, as I await the time I can go and meet the new addition to our family. I cannot wait to hold her ever so gently in my arms and smell that precious new baby smell as I gaze into her eyes with wonderment of what will she be?

Who will she look like? Who will she act like? Will she be shy, outgoing, silly, funny?

How will she embrace the world and relish in all it has to offer, head on, or with reservation?

However and whatever she is, she will be precious, she will be unique, she will be Javula, and she will be loved.

Welcome, new baby girl!

Peace.

Isn't 60 Nifty?

My mother is turning 60 on Tuesday.

In celebration, my grandmother, mother and I are spending the day at the Spa tomorrow. We are destined to have an amazing day. Three generations of girly girl-ness, sounds delightful.

I wanted to write about her birthday to not only wish her the best of birthdays ever, but also to remind her that I love her deeply, appreciate her even more, and treasure our memories immensely.

My mother and I do not always see eye to eye, but our hearts do. We respect established boundaries and always make the best effort to make the other happy.

It's at milestone birthday's like these that allow you reflect on those things that are really important. Those things like family. Those irreplaceable relationships that are so dear. I feel it important to remember these relationships need nourishment. They need to always be challenged to see just how many memories can be stuffed into them.

Many feel these types of relationships should be easy, ones that just work on their own. Not true. I think if more people worked harder at making their relationships better, they too may be better, in so many ways.

Back to Mom:

Today I wish my mother the happiest of birthdays. I am so looking forward to our date at the spa tomorrow, just one more memory to stuff in!

I love you and thank you for providing me with the basis to be the best person I can be, and more importantly for pouring the foundation that makes me the Mother I am today.

Happy Birthday Mom! Make this year one of your best years yet!!

Your daughter,

P

Peace.

NYC Exploration

A fantastic day exploring NYC with two of the finest nine year olds on the planet, Schmoogie, my love, and Siege, my nephew, wow, what a day.

Here are a few highlights:

*Jump on the LIRR to Penn Station (first train ride for Schmoogie).
*Hit the city sidewalks for several blocks down to the Empire State Building.
*Elevator, Stairs, Observation Deck. Giggles. Lots and lots of photos.
*Browse souvenir shop and enjoy two nine year olds relish in what will make them remember their experience most.
*Experience a new attraction at the ESB, the Skyline. A virtual tour of New York City, narrated by Kevin Bacon, the seats move, feels like you are in a helicopter, it was really cool.
*Hop on the F train ~ “the orange subway” and head down, or is it up to Rockefeller Center (first subway ride for Schmoogie).
*Watch the break dancers perform in the subway station. How do they do that??
*Arrive in Rockefeller Center and admire the ice skaters, the flags and the flowers.

*Truly marvel in all Rockefeller Center has to offer.
*Lunch/Dinner ~ or as the boys said ~ either “Linner” or “Dunch” .
*Giggle at the others having “dunch”, or a snack, or a cup of coffee, or a NAP! They thought this was hysterical! ~ You know, Nine really is Divine.
*Incident with the bathroom attendant, I guess she missed the lecture on manners at Bathroom Attendant School.
*Up to the Top of the Rock ~ Spectacular. Magnificent. Breathtaking.
*Stairs, elevator, escalator, giggles, amazement.
*Search for change for the binoculars and get up close and personal with the Statue of Liberty.
*Lots more photos
*Start walking to the big Toys R Us to ride the indoor ferris wheel
*A Mister Softy Ice Cream truck on the corner of 36th and 5th hits the spot!
*Grab a ride on a modern day rickshaw towed by a bicycle driver with the world’s strongest legs, or so the boys said anyway!
*Here we are at the largest toy store we have ever seen. Three floors of childhood magic, Mingling with Spiderman and Geoffrey.
*A ride on the Mr. Potato Head cart of the indoor ferris wheel followed by a round of Wii Bowling on the biggest television screen on earth, rounds out the Toy Store extravaganza.
*Hit the pavement in search of Penn Station.
*Board the train back home.
*Train ride occupation includes, singing of the silliest of nine year old songs ever, giggling the entire time, reflecting on the best parts of the day, checking out our souvenirs, awe and delight, and of course, stretching out our tired, aching feet.

Both Schmoogie and Siege thanked me for one of the best days ever, and I, had to thank them back.

We had an awesome day.

Peace.

Freezing H2O

The science fair exhibit took place last Thursday at Schmoogie's school. Participation is voluntary, but because we never have enough to do (wink) participation is a self induced requirement for Schmoogie.

I encouraged a simple, easy to controlled science project that could be done in a very short time frame this year. We, and I say we, because he didn't do the project on his own, had some spare time the weekend before, so we set up our project.

The objective was to find out if water temperature has an impact on the rate at which water will freeze. I wanted to know, because I remember being told that warm water is a must if you need ice cubes in a hurry.

Three clearly labeled cups in the freezer. Set the timer. Schmoogie flies back upstairs to get back to Wii bowling. I watch the timer and straighten the kitchen. Timer buzzes. Schmoogie runs down, checks the three cups, gleefully records his data, snaps some photos, back up to Wii bowling.

This process continues every four minutes for some time. Results: cold water is the winner. Cold water freezes faster than warm or hot. Go figure!

The Tri-fold Board arranged so eloquently (if I do say so myself) to display our hypothesis, data, pics, etc.

While every effort was made, we missed the science fair this year due to lacrosse practice and my kickboxing class, just far too much to do that night.

The next morning at school, all students that participated in the science fair were invited to a special bagel breakfast.

Much to Schmoogie surprise, when he was called up to receive his participation certificate he also was the proud recipient of the second place ribbon for third grade projects!!

Go Schmoogie!

Peace.

Stinkin' Beauty

Saturday morning, as I run through the facial cleansing routine, Noodle stands by watching intently.

Cleanse. Toner. Moisturizer. Eye cream. Done.

"Mommy, you're done"?

"Yup, baby, come on lets go get some breakfast".

"Mama, your face is beautiful". (it was more like boooti-ful).

"Mommy, you are bootiful".

Hugs, kisses, smiles and warm thoughts run through my head for, this is going to be a great day.

Three hours later...

Schmoogie recently finds himself in a constant struggle to test where his nine year old fresh mouth will allow him to go. So, he gets sent to his room, after it went to far... I warned him!

As he stomps up the stairs he declares: "YOU STINK, YOU ABSOLUTELY STINK".

Ahh, you win some, you lose some.

Peace.

The Show Must Go On.

The daycare puts on an end of year/graduation show each June that the children intently practice for beginning sometime around February. Noodle takes this show very seriously, utilizing his still to be developed dancing and singing talents. In his prior shows, he has danced and sang his little heart out.

This year, will no doubt, be any different, I’m sure.

During practice early yesterday afternoon, Noodle was asked to perform a very special part of the show, involving a blow up guitar, his best dancing skills, and a jumping spin. He, as you could imagine, was thrilled to accept the challenge.

When I received the phone call in my office, it was explained that while giving his best effort, Noodle performed a jumping spin, resembling that of Aerosmith, and landed face first on the floor.
At first he seemed fine, his loving teachers checked him over, there weren’t any tears, there was no blood, barley red, and so, they went back to practicing.

Just then, Miss. D glanced back at Noodle who now had a nose three times its original size, hence the phone call to my office.

Off I went to pick him up and fly to the pediatrician’s office. It was very swollen, it was very bruised, it looked pretty bad.

One look at my baby boy and “How are you baby”?“Not so good, Mommy”!

AS soon as Dr. Z took a look, she declared it broken. A dose of Tylenol, a few stickers, a lollipop and off to the local radiology facility to take some “special pictures with a really big and very special camera”.

Cool!
The courageous little three year old takes the first two x-rays like a champ. It wasn’t until the third, involving Mommy holding his head very still that one tear escaped from his right baby blue. He was trying so hard to be brave, and he was doing an amazing job.

Negative…the nose is not broken. A sigh of relief, a well deserved trip to McDonald's, and home for a nap rounded out the remainder of the afternoon. He woke up feeling better and took it easy.

This morning he woke up with a black eye, the swelling of the nose went down, still pretty bruised. Holding his blankie, he looks up at me with his banged up face and says “My nose feels all better today, Mommy”.

He is quite the trooper.

Peace.

LAX!

Schmoogie's started lacrosse yesterday through the local PAL. This should be an interesting new journey in the P house, as none of us have a real understanding of the game.

We needed to invest in some new equipment for the new adventure, a helmet, which was generously given to us, and some upper body/arm/shoulder padding (above) that once in place made my Schmoogie resemble a superhero.

"He looks like a Power Ranger", my nephew adamantly announced Sunday morning after Schmoogie tried on his new gear! He was right.

Last night was the first practice. Big D took him, said he did well, and enjoyed himself. After practice, Schmoogie ate dinner and out to the front lawn to practice techniques, until I called him in to shower and settle in for the night. I imagine this will be the norm for the next several weeks until we need to add in some baseball practice, when he will be perfecting two games at once.

I will attend the next practice and try to begin to understand the fundamentals of the game, so I can assume the typical cheerleader role as Mom. I may try to catch an instructional clip on youtube, or re-read the wiki description, which I didn't really get the first time.

It's real important to support and cheer for your children, I'd just really like to know what's going on. But, hey, if I never get it, as long as I am there, that's all he's going to remember anyway.

Peace.

A Birthday Note to my Schmoogie

For your birthday, my exceptional first borne, a note!

I love...
The sparkle of your eyes,
The glisten of your smile…that sweet, silly giggle,
That dimple that melts my heart,
Your amazing confidence, fun loving personality, your charm and innocence,
Your wonder for what life has to offer and that you attempt it all,
That you have self-discipline to challenge yourself and never give up.

At nine, Schmoogie, you are divine!

You are smart, bright beyond your years, you love sports, puzzles, snow shoveling, music, swimming, painting and game shows.

You are a perfectionist, which I hope will come in handy someday.

Your confident, but still look for praise.

You love your little brother, have a personality like Mommy and are best friends with Daddy!

Happy 9th Birthday my dear Schmoogie.

I love you with all my heart.

Love and Kisses,
Mommy

Happy Saint Schmoogie Day!

Nine years ago today, I was very large, very uncomfortable, and, very anxious. I was very pregnant with Schmoogie. I remember the day vividly. It was Friday, March 17th, Saint Patrick’s Day 2000.

At the end of my regular work day, as a colleague said goodbye, she gave me a hug and said “next time we see you, you will be two, that baby is coming this weekend”. Intuition, perhaps, a good guess, maybe, a way to enduce a smile on my very swollen face, could have been. Whatever it was, I wasn’t due until the following Friday, and since many first babies are late, I figured she was wrong and I would be back on Monday.

I went home that night, Friday and Saturday were without much excitement, as you could imagine.

Sunday morning, after breakfast, Big D and I decided that we would reorganize his office. You know kind of spruce it up a bit, a new baby was coming after all. The Nursery was done, it had been ready for weeks, maybe even months. The bassinet was set and we were so excited at the thought of becoming parents.

Progress on the office project was nil, and we were in the hospital within a few hours. Late that night, Big D and I became Mommy and Daddy! She was right, I didnt go back to work for a while!

Saint Patrick’s Day has an unusual meaning to me. It’s a day of reflection most years, a day when I recall that immense anticipation of the arrival of my Schmoogie and smile. What an amazing feeling. I love you Schmoogie!

Happy St. Patty’s Day to all!

Peace.

It's a Pleasure to get a Report Card

Schmoogie’s report card came home yesterday. It was exceptional and unmatched to any he has ever brought home. He has always done well academically; sometimes he floors me with his astuteness. But this report card was different, it was special.

He acheived his first “Schmoogie is a pleasure to have in class” comment, which brought a tear to my eye. Schmoogie has an amazing teacher this year, she is really awesome, the type of teacher that you remember for a lifetime.

We had a Report Card Celebration. It doesn’t take much for me to have a celebration, I just love to celebrate. Life is too short, celebrate all it has to offer! I picked up a Cavel Cake with some inspirational wording to reflect the pride Big D and I felt for the Schmoog~master.

After dinner I grabbed the cake out of the freezer, and made the announcement. Schmoogie and Noodle looked up at me with that wide-eyed “but Mom, it’s Wednesday, what could you be celebrating now?” look. I briefly explain, place the cake in front of our little brainiac, hand him a knife and we had a celebration!

He was beaming, he was proud, he was excited, and so were we. It was truly a pleasure.

During the car ride to daycare this morning, Noodle asked Big D why we didn’t sing Happy Birthday to Schmoogie last night. The answer , well, obvious, and Noodle wondered, why then, did we have cake in the dining room??. He then turned to Big D and said “Well Daddy, then we should have sung Happy Report Card Day to him”.

Peace

Sing, Sing a Song!

My kids love to music, they love to sing. They sing everything from Barney to Beyonce. I love to sing too, but only in the car, alone, or privately to my boyz!

I don’t really care for my voice, it’s kind of, well, squeaky and high pitched. It sounds ok to me when I am engaged in normal, everyday conversation, however, when I hear myself on my answering machine, I cringe.

I do like to sing though, but because of my feelings about my voice, I have decided not to try out for American Idol…oh, and I may have exceeded the age limit!

I have always sung to my boyz. I have made up a bunch Schmoogie Songs, utilizing rhythms adapted from old songs, and have always sung your typical nursery rhymes and the like. My favorite time to sing to my boyz is when they are cuddled in my arms, you know, just about to fall asleep. I hum too, but I would much rather sing. I often sing out of tune, sometimes the wrong words, at times even on purpose, to get a reaction from the boyz. It’s fun for me.

The other night, while lulling my Noodle to sleep, he asked me to sing “Sunshine” to him. Of course I leap at the opportunity, but was quite tired myself, so I said, “OK Noodle, but only three Sunshine’s, and then we have to go to sleep. And please don’t ask me for more”.

I only know the first verse, but have been inspired to learn the remainder of the song.

Upon completion of my three stanza concert, he looks at me with those baby blues that melt my heart and says “Mama, can you sing the ABC’s”?

So I did, and then we fell asleep. I love to sing!!
Peace.

The City That Doesn't Sleep

Big D and I took the kids to see Shrek the Musical on Broadway last Sunday.

First official family trip to NYC. Kind of hard to believe when we live so close, we just don’t journey into the city that often. We took the tunnel in, and of course the boys were captivated by the thought of underwater travel. Oh my, who thought of that, anyway? It really is awesome, but while traveling through the tunnel, I always have this sudden urge to hold my breath. I guess I‘m awaiting the tunnel giving way and flushing us into the East River, never to be seen again. Crazy.

We passed and awed at the typical NYC skyline and its magnificent sites, and sighed as we remembered those that do not exist anymore.

We arrive in the city with plenty of time to spare, so we stroll down to Time Square, (Schmoogie is still spellbound that he stood in the actual location where the ball drops every year) and grab a bite at the ESPN Zone. Schmoogie just couldn’t get over how many televisions they have in that place, man, it really is insane. He was thrilled that just above his head, no matter which way he turned, there was a game on. He didn’t care what was on, he’ll watch any sport; well, I don’t think he cares much for cricket, but hey you never know. Noodle was just glad to have his butt planted in a chair, and not be walking on those tired, lil, three year old tootsies anymore!

After we had our share of pub food, laughs and plenty of sports-themed video games, we hit the bricks and headed back down Broadway to the Theater. On the way, we happened upon a man seated against a cement storefront, shaking a paper coffee cup with some coins in it. Schmoogie made inquiry as to why someone would do such a thing. I was careful to contemplate my answer for a moment, not spewing out my original cynical thoughts, which were, he’s probably addicted to something and needs a fix. Instead, I explain to him that he is most likely homeless, unemployed, and needs money for a warm meal.

Concerned for the poor soul, he says, “Hey Mom, Do you think he can collect enough money to get a house”?

“Na, Schmoog’s, he just needs to get enough for dinner tonight”.

He lets it go a while, until his inquisitively gets the best of him, and then he asks, “Where is he going to go tonight Mom, is he just going to walk around this big city all night”?

“Not sure Schmoogie, maybe he will find a warm place to sleep”.

“But Mom, if he doesn’t have anywhere to go…”

I swiftly cut him off and declare “Oh, here we are! Here it is, Shrek the Musical! Here’s the Broadway Theater”.

I have pondered why I was so happy to not have to continue that conversation. I have come up with the following:

We were having an amazing family day in the city, and I didn’t want anything negative to impact our day. However, experiencing a pan handler on a city street is a normal occurrence everyday in the city and perhaps I could have handled it differently. The city has so much to offer with its amazing sites, history, culture, theater, museums, excitement and splendor; however, in some places it is just drizzled with filth. In retrospect, I should have not feared the explanation, but rather relished it for its life lesson. Upon having this revelation, I remembered why we don’t visit the city too often. We live on the north fork of one of the most beautiful islands in the world, why would we want to leave?

The show was amazing. The kids had a blast, Big D and I loved it as well.
Peace.

Swim Baby, Swim!

We had a pool put in over the fall and Big D is feverishly beautifying its surroundings, which, when he's done, should turn out to resemble a lake in a 4 star resort. He rocks!

In preparation, Noodle has been taking swimming lessons since last Spring. Once a week, 1/2 hour sessions, costs a small fortune. He has never really been all that into it. A few weeks ago, I started to wonder why he hasn't been "tested" for the first level and been given the pleasure of acquiring his first ribbon. It has taken almost a year after all, and no sign of a test on the horizon. So, I ask his instructor, and we explain to him what he needs to do to for the test, ring the bell, and be the proud recipient of a shiny ribbon.

He was ready, he even appeared psyched for the test. "Mommy, I am gonna do it....I'm gonna ring dat bell"...."OK Noodle, great, Mommy will be so proud".

For me, the achievement had a lot of meaning. The initial reason for the lessons, was, of course safety, so that if Noodle ever fell in the pool, he could swim his way to the side and be OK. This achievement would also prove I wasn't throwing my money in the trash, which at times, I have seriously thought I was. Like all mothers, I mostly wanted security.

Last week he took his test. He swam the required three feet (well, two feet), jumped in and went under water, (with serious coaxing) and, was able to go under water and come back up without assistance. He rang the bell, got his ribbon, and there were high fives all over the place.

That night, he slept with his ribbon, he was so proud, you could see it in those baby blues. I was proud too, but I couldn't help but think, he really didn't earn it.

I am a hard ass for earning. I don't feel every child should get an trophy or certificate, just for participating. It wasn't like that when I grew up, and if you didn't get a trophy, well, you just needed to try harder.

But there he was, all snug in his bed with his favorite blankie and his ribbon wrapped around his tiny finger. He was proud of himself. I did it Mama, I did it, kept repeating in my head. But he didn't do it. He was pushed through. He was pushed through because his pushy mother wanted to see that her dollars paid off.

I let it go, and went on with life.

Last night he had his lesson again, and would not, could not swim three, or even two feet. He cried when his instructor asked him to jump in the pool, and, at times even clung to the instructor for dear life. It's as if it was his first lesson. It angered me, while at the same time, I felt terrible. That motherly instinct said go get him, hold him, cuddle him, tell him it's OK. To hell with these lessons!

But, NO, reality took over! What. if. he. ever. fell. in the pool?

Last night as he nodded off, in my bed, snuggled ever so close to me, with his sweet toddler breath in my face, he says, "Mommy, I no wanna go to svimmin' (that's how he says it) lessons no more".

He's not going anymore, he can wear swimmies in the pool and/or a lifejacket, and I will have to worry all summer until he gets it on his own. I hope by the end of the summer he can swim like a fish.

Peace.

Happy Birthday

Last week, at the karate school where I take kickboxing classes, I noticed that the women who runs the school was having a birthday this month. I wished her a happy and asked if I had missed it.

"No", she said, with that "I don't want to have another birthday" look on her face, "it's next Wednesday".

With curiosity, wondering why she would upset, I ask, "is it a BIG birthday this year"?

"No, I am gonna be 44", with a scowl, as if her life was over.

I say, "44 is a good age". Me who is going to be 39, looking 44 in the eye, thinking, I will be OK with that, I have so much now, in five years I will have even more.

Big D is turning 40 this summer, and it's all good. We will have a celebration, to which he will be surprised about. A celebration. A celebration of getting older, wiser, more mature and proud of who you are as a person. Schmoogie turns nine next month, oh my, now that's a totally different post!

In our family, birthdays are always celebrated, embraced and happy, no matter what the age. Kids are always exited about birthdays. My kids don't care if it's their birthday or someone elses, they smile. (certainly they prefer their own, for the presents!) They love to sing Happy Birthday, they love to blow out candles, they love cake. What's not to love about birthdays?

I looked at the almost 44 year old and said, "you ought to be happy about your birthday". Celebrate! Celebrate your accomplishments, look back and recognize those things you are most proud of and those you would never repeat".

She looked at me oddly and said, "hmmm, never thought of it that way. I may become even more sad if I have to look at my accomplishments, I sure wished for more for myself by now".

Accomplishments are not always measured monetarily. I reminded her of her loving husband, amazing son, and assumed she had a wonderful, warm and inviting home, where she felt comfortable and safe. Those are real accomplishments, those that should be celebrated.

At that point, she smiled and realized that her life's accomplishments are rich.

I need to make a phone call to wish her a very special and HAPPY birthday today.

As an aside, Sunday evening, while fiddling with something in my Dining Room, (the site of most family birthday celebration's) Noodle entered quietly, dimmed the lights and began to sing "Happy Birthday to you, Happy Birthday to you..." I joined in and we wished everyone who had a birthday that day a very happy one.

Peace