The Only Thing More Awkward Than an Umbrella...

Is two people and an umbrella.

I dislike umbrellas.  I always have.  I realize I'm in the minority when it comes to this opinion, but I dislike them nonetheless.  And I shall count the reasons why.

First, you have to tote it around with you, just in case it rains.  I would rather risk getting wet.

Second, you stay dry on the upper parts of you, but the lower parts still get wet.  Since I don't have coiffed hair or wear makeup, getting wet upstairs isn't that much of a tragedy for me.

Third, you have to store it somewhere when you arrive, or get to your car.  I dislike the whole dripping wet umbrella contraption.  When they collapse, it's a guaranteed way for them to stay wet for days to come.

Fourth, when you leave wherever it is you brought your umbrella to, you have to remember to take it home with you.  The number of umbrellas left at my house over the years is a testament to how frequently they're forgotten.

Fifth, you are a menace when you're carrying one.  I have a special hatred for the extra large, super-duper, gigantic umbrellas that keep you and the surrounding county dry, while taking up the entire sidewalk and incommoding other passers by.  Large umbrellas aside, they all look like eye-pokers to me and I try to steer clear whenever I can.

Sixth, most of the time, the entire distance you need to go, say from the restaurant door to the car or the car to the house, is short.  By the time you deal with an umbrella, you could have gone the distance more than once.

And seventh, the sharing of the umbrella.  People are being kind in their desire not to get wet and it must seem like a weather catastrophe to see someone out in the rain, not seeming to mind getting wet.  I find myself frequently declining offers to share an umbrella, something I find frightfully awkward.  It seems to distress people that I don't want an umbrella, that perhaps that lady is off her medication, or maybe she had head trauma.  Either way, I sometimes have to decline an offer more than once.  Really, I'm fine.

Bottom line is, I don't mind the rain.  If I get wet, my body heat will usually cause my clothes to dry in a reasonable amount of time or if I get soaked, hopefully there's a dryer or towel in my near future.  I like the rain.  I dislike umbrellas.  But thanks anyway to everyone for trying to take care of me in the rain.  I appreciate the thought.

The Big Boy Update:  Big boy fan.  We went to friends of my parent's last night for dinner.  There was a six-year-old there named Ben who was the complete and total object of affection for my son last night.  He immediately looked up to this older boy as both a fun play mate as well as someone to admire.  It was very cute, and yet a little oppressive with all the adoration and smothering of affection my son lavished on Ben who was a good sport.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Roulette obsessed.  There is a roulette wheel at my parent's house.  She likes the wheel, but she loves the ball.   She will spend hours playing with that ball, bouncing it on the glass table, spinning the wheel and chasing it around the floor when she invariably drops it. 

The Collection of Things or The Three Little Dogs

We all collect things over time.  Some of us collect more than others and some of us purge over time more than others.  Some collect things of value while some collect things of junk. 

My father is a collector and so am I.  But we collect in different ways.  I like to collect things and store them away in a neat, orderly, organized fashion.  If I want to see, or work with, or go through my collection, I bring it out and then put it up when I'm done.

My father, on the other hand, likes to have his collections out and about.  But he collects things that are far more suitable for display.  My collection of breath mints wouldn't exactly make for a stunning display on the shelves of out living room.  His collections of magic posters, miniature cameras, antique microscopes and historical nautical instruments are perfect for sharing visually with visitors and guests.

My father has collected for all of my life and I'm accustomed to coming home to see new and interesting things around the house.  He has a knack for putting all manner of unrelated things together in one room, somehow making it work and look like it was meant to be just that way.  I don't have that skill.

My parents are kind enough to display all the things I've given them over time.  Just tonight I noticed the crystal cherries from Italy, the concrete puzzle from New Zealand, the rocks attached to some driftwood from my trip to OOPSLA in Austin and the multi-layered hand-blown vase from Murano. 

So, if they've been displaying my things for over twenty years, there must be things far older in their personal historical time line around their house.  Tonight, I discovered one.  My son was finishing his bath and reached for something on the counter in my parent's bathroom.  My father said, "no no, that's delicate.  I've had that since I was a boy."  It was a ceramic piece with three dogs: one orange, one black and one white.  I had seen it for years, but I didn't know it was that old or, more specifically, what importance it had in my father's life.

It could have been something from a yard sale he liked several years ago, but it was over seventy years old and has been with my father all this time.  It changed my feelings entirely about that little piece of ceramic, just because I knew how it's history was personally intertwined with my father.

It's interesting how things become important to us because of longevity or proximity or any other number of reasons.  I wonder how many other things are around my parent's house that I don't know are important to them?

The Big Boy Update:  Passive and aggressive.  He has reached the age of television zoning.  If something is on that is even remotely interesting to him (including an adult talk show, go figure on that one) he will just sit there an stare at the screen.  But beware, too much passive time results in extra aggressive behavior when he runs around later. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Baby bow boot camp, round two.  Her hair needs to be put up in some way to keep it out of her eyes.  She likes to take the bows or bands out though, when you're not looking.  Mostly, she just wants to put the bands around her wrist.  So it's back to cracking down on her to make sure she leaves them be.  Also, she looks very cute with pig tails.

Fitness Update;  I pulled a wagon with two children down the hill to the center of town here in the mountains for the parade this afternoon.  It was a bit of a workout to keep the wagon under control going down and a lot of work to pull it back up the hill.  My legs felt it both ways.

Someone Once Said:  Never help a child with a task at which he feels he can succeed.

Coffee and the Repour

It's not common that I go to a restaurant and have coffee as my beverage.  What does happen a lot is I order a coffee to go or I make a coffee for myself at home.  In either of those two cases, the coffee is sweetened and creamed at the start, before you begin to drink.  As you drink your beverage, the level of sweetness and creaminess remains constant and the drink tastes the same level of deliciousness from start to finish. 

In a restaurant with a cup of coffee, this does not happen, and it confounds me.  From what I've seen, most people add either cream, sugar or both to their coffee.  For any given cup, you get the right balance of additives and then you're ready to drink and enjoy.  

But the waitperson commonly sweeps by and tops off your beverage, usually when you're not looking.  If this is to add to your water glass or your lemonade or your soda, this doesn't make much of a change.  But if it's your coffee (or your tea) then you've just had your balance imbalanced unexpectedly.  This can happen again and again and if your meal is like mine was this morning. 

I wasn't upset, if I was, I would have said something.  I was glad to have such an attentive lady helping us with our meal.  But with beverages that have additives, I'm surprised more wait people don't ask if the person would like to have more added.   To be sure, it happens some of the time, but not all of the time.

Still, my coffee was delicious, even if the balance of ingredients varied wildly over the meal.

The Big Boy Update:  "Garbagetrash"  is apparently what my son thinks all things both garbage and trash related are called.  That, or he's not sure and he's making sure to cover his bases.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Bahpur and fahfire.  She has names for things just like her brother.  "Bahpur" is a diaper and "fahfire" is a pacifier.  Similar, but different from his "bahpoo" and "fassire".

Someone Once Said:  The child whom we have robbed of his own will becomes difficult; we believe that by doing things for him we will do him some good.

Seasonal Specific Longings

It's July Fourth today and we've just gotten in from a lovely pool party at our friend's house.  They always have great friends, good food and everyone seems to have a good time.  After having their pool installed, it's hard to go wrong.  My son and daughter had a tremendous time  splashing and trying to swim.  But this post isn't about that party (and how full I am from the food right now.)

It's about out of season longings.  And you're saying, "what are you talking about?"  Have you ever happened onto something Christmas-related in May and had a longing, just for a little bit, for that time of year?  My son has the book, How the Grinch Stole Stole Christmas and he doesn't care what time of year it is when you read it to him; but as adults, it brings about thoughts of a time of year that's out of sync with where you currently are.

I was looking at something on my iPad last week and I saw this roaring fire in a beautiful fireplace and it reminded me of the fires we used to enjoy when I was younger at my parent's best friend's mountain house.

They had wonderful fires and I would stand as close as I could, usually on the stone hearth itself, warming my legs and hands until I couldn't stand the heat any longer.  I would do this again and again and wish I could even sleep by the fire because it was so peaceful to watch the flames dancing and the wood crackling.

They still have that house and we've even been invited up to see the fireworks on Saturday from their porch.  It's a beautiful house in the summer, but it won't be the same without that roaring fire and the chilly weather outside.

The Big Boy Update:  "I rescue you."  Today at the pool, he wanted to rescue people.  He would do this by climbing onto their diving board, walking to the end, looking over and asking you to give him your hand.  He would then say, "come up, I rescue you" and be very happy when you obliged him.   We couldn't get him to jump off the diving board so we could rescue him, however.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Broken arm?  No, it's not broken, but I was worried there for a bit.  She was climbing out of the pool and stumbled on the top step.  Now, if you know my daughter, you know she stumbles on a regular basis.  She has the clumsy gene I have.  But she hurt herself.  She was crying and wouldn't stop and was holding her right arm, close to the wrist, very carefully.  This went on for some time.  Finally, I took her in and changed her out of her swim clothes and she seemed to forget about her arm.  She must have hit it hard and bruised it, but at least it isn't broken.

Fitness Update:  I wedged in some weight lifting at the fitness room before our fun pool party. 

Someone Once Said:  Every so often some idiot tries to abolish marriage. Such attempts work as well as repealing the laws of gravity, making pi equal to three point zero, or moving mountains by prayer. Marriage is not something thought up by priests and inflicted on mankind; marriage is as much a part of mankind’s evolutionary equipment as his eyes, and is as useful to the race as eyes are to an individual.

Perserverance

I went to a, "Talking With Toddlers" class a few weeks ago.  I took my neighbor with me and we both agreed we learned a lot.  Have you even been somewhere or experienced something and there is one single thing that defines that event or moment and it's the thing that comes to your mind the most often when you remember that period of time?  The thought I have regularly and repeatedly from the class is "perseverance".

Our instructor (who is also my daughter's lead teacher) said, "if you're watching your child struggling over something, you should be very proud."  The point is, that's how children learn.  Swooping in and doing the activity for the child, such as putting on the socks or opening the jar, isn't helping, it's depriving them of a learning experience.

She said it's good to let them get frustrated.  It's absolutely fine to wait until they're close to giving up and then coming in to give them a helping hand at figuring out the task themselves.

So now, every time I see my daughter set out to put on her underpants or her socks or her shoes herself, I don't fret that she's going to most likely fail; I smile at knowing she'll be busy for a while working hard on learning for herself.

The Big Boy Update:  "I need to go potty."  In the car this morning he told me he had to go.  I asked if he could hold it and got a non-committal response.  So I hurried when we got to the store to get two children out and in the building.  I was close, but I wasn't fast enough.  He lost is just before we got to the bathroom.  But he knew and he asked and he tried to wait. 

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Walking up the stairs.  This morning I was in the kitchen and she was in the basement.  I heard her call my name and came to the top of the stairs.  I watched her talk to me while she walked, not crawled, up the stairs with only her hand on the wall for balance.

Fitness Update:  I have missed our trainer.  We did mostly upper body today doing buddy exercises with my neighbor and her broken toe.  I felt like doing a Hulk roar at the end of the workout, my arm muscles were so worked out.

Someone Once Said:  Any statement that starts with “I really ought to—“is suspect. It means you really haven’t analyzed your motives.

I Give You a Kiss

We have tried very hard to not raise clingy, needy children.  To see my son be self-reliant at only two-and-a-half make me proud, not upset that he doesn't need his mother.  But that can come with a price. 

Both children like to meet other people.  They like to play with other children.  They are most pleased going into a new location and exploring the new things they find there.  And that means they mostly run off and go have a good time without you. 

Certainly when they're hurt or upset or tired they come to you and want to be near you; but my children don't hide behind my legs and peek out at the newcomer and they certainly don't want to be hugged any longer than necessary to get over their most recent bodily injury. 

So hugs are short and kisses are a matter of novelty, not a requirement for their comfort or knowledge that we love them.  But we do hug them and kiss them and I do tell my son that he's, "my best boy" and my daughter that she's, "my best girl."

They don't sleep in our bed.  They never have and even when they've been sick and in need of comfort, their bed is where they find that comfort and where they want to be.  Just try to get a two-year-old to settle down in your bed when he's never slept there before and you'll see what I mean.

Tonight, we were at my favorite sushi restaurant and my son made me giggle.   There is a big fish tank there and, of course, they have fish of the same species as those from the movie, Finding Nemo.  My son loves to ask where the fish are and point them out and name them and talk to them and...apparently kiss them.

On several occasions tonight he would go back over to the fish tank during the meal, talk to one of the fish and then say, "I give you a kiss" and kiss the fish tank repeatedly.  The lady at the front desk and I just stood behind him trying not to laugh out loud because it was so very sweet and cute. 

Now if only I can get him to want to give me a kiss sometime too.

The Big Boy Update:  "Walk away pants!"  This phrase, "walk away," is something they use in his class at school.  It is suppose to be a polite way to tell your friend this is your work and they need to find some other work to do and respect your space.  My son has extrapolated this phrase to mean he's mad or upset or maybe now that I think about it, it might be his version of a swear phrase.  This afternoon he was having trouble getting his pants off to go potty.  When he finally got them off, he kicked them across the room and yelled very loudly at them, "walk away pants!"

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  Dip-a-dip-a-dip.  My daughter has entered into the age of dipping.  My son was interested in dipping anything into anything far earlier, but she wasn't in so much of hurry.  What she does do that's very cute is talk about the dip in a little sing-song voice by saying, "dip-a-dip-a-dip" and then calmly dipping her fry or chicken or what-not into the dip.

Fitness Update:  Didn't make it to the gym this morning due to a headache, but I made it to the fitness room with Uncle Jonathan this afternoon.  The fitness room wall is lined with mirrors.  I'm not sure if it's a good thing that you can see how much you're struggling or sweating or looking foolish as you try to exercise.

Someone Once Said:  The notion that a boy becomes a man only on a certain birthday is mere legal fiction.

What is Gramps Doing Here?

We went to visit my in-laws the other day.  Daddy had a parent-child golf tournament he was playing in with his mother and the children and I went up to see Grandpa (or Papa as my two seem to persist in calling him).  We had a very nice visit, which ended with a dinner on the newly renovated porch and veranda at the country club.

There were hot dogs and potato chips and my children ate happily at tables covered with white linens, not caring a bit that they were smearing ketchup all over the place.  After they lost interest in the meal portion of the celebration, we moved them to the dessert stage by making them each a fancy ice cream sundae with all sorts of sugary, drippy, candy toppings.

When my daughter was done eating, I was afraid she was going to be ejected from the country club for improper attire because she had made just that much of a mess on herself.

Tired out and sugared up we drove home and they fell asleep on the way.  That night much later, my husband realized something was amiss upstairs in the children's room.  My daughter, for the first time in her life, had thrown up.  It was everywhere on the bed and she was confused and she didn't understand why her pacifier tasted so terrible.

We don't know why she threw up, but after changing her bedding she had no problems going straight back to sleep.  I was tired too and apparently I went straight back to sleep as well.  Later that night I awoke to a darkened room to an odd sight.  My father was in our bedroom and he was doing something at the dresser across from the bed that has the changing table on it.  Why was my father in the bedroom at this hour and what did he need from the changing table?

I don't know if I've mentioned this before, but my daughter with her blonde hair looks a lot like my father with his white hair.  This was not my father I was seeing, it was my daughter, being held by my husband in his arms and her head of hair was more easily seen in the darkness than my husband's dark brown.  When I woke up enough to realize what was going on, my husband told me she had thrown up again and would I help him get her back to bed now that she was changed into fresh clothing.

As I carried her up the stairs I told her how she looked just like her Gramps in the dark.

The Big Boy Update:  Mall run.  Given the rainy day we looked for an indoor activity and decided on the mall.  It's relatively safe and the children can run around and around and around and burn all their energy while we slowly make our way to the other end of the mall for lunch.  We ended the trip with a race to the car that involved a lot of toddler running and much switching back but eventually ended in two asleep children as we drove into the driveway at home.

The Tiny Girl Chronicles:  As mentioned above, she threw up for the first time for an unknown reason.  She had a very low fever for part of the next day and was whiny as a result but seems perfectly fine today. 

Fitness Update:  Three miles in the rain with a friend who drove all the way from the next town over to run with us this morning.  It was a nice short run, which was good because we had all overworked ourselves this weekend with biking or running endeavors.

Someone Once Said:  Each individual lives her life in now independently of how others may measure that life in years.