Wearing My Parents Out

My parents took on childcare duty for most of spring break. My parent's basic strategy is to try and find an outing each day, let the kids run around and have fun, and then hang on until Ed or I returns home.

They started the week with a quick win - heading out to Chuck-E-Cheese. They arrived just about when the place opened, and luckily it was never too crowded. Connor continued fine-tuning his ski ball skills while Helen ran around trying to score as many tickets as possible.

Helen did take a brief ride on the Chuck-E-Cheese car which snaps a photo - and when she saw her photo, she announced "Grandpa photo bombed me!", which made both Ed and me laugh. For no reason, we are always surprised when she says anything about pop culture, though we really shouldn't be surprised at this point.

Upon exiting Chuck-E-Cheese, my parents saw friends of their from Kansas who were also out in Virginia performing spring break childcare. They made plans to meet up the next day at the Air and Space Museum at Dulles. Connor was excited to see the plane that dropped the first atomic bomb.

And because they had friends around, there is proof that both of my parents were present!

My dad's camera battery did not make the trip, so most of the photos were snapped by my mom on her phone. This meant that my mom was able to capture my dad in several phases of exhaustion, as he tried to keep up with Connor and Helen.

The dyed eggs were awesome - except they weren't rinsed and the first time I ate one at the office, I learned that a LOT of pink dye was still on the egg, which quickly transferred to my hand for the rest of the day.

They wrapped up their days with a trip to the paint-your-own pottery store. We haven't done this in a while, and both kids seemed to enjoy it quite a bit. I'm looking forward to the finished project. Connor's plate replaces another one he made that got broken a couple of years ago. Hopefully this one fares a bit better!

There were egg hunts, rides on the neighbor's zipline (which is pretty safe at this point), playdates with friends, a trip to the craft store to make an Easter chick and a zombie chick, a scavenger hunt through the toy store, and even a little reading. Helen was certain Grandpa would enjoy hearing about Babar. He needs to teach Helen how to play "let's take a nap", which is a game he used to play with his other grandchildren where he would pretend to sleep. Fun times. Fun times.

All I can say is, maybe if you get a lot of sleep between now and August, you'll be ready for their energy descending on Kansas this summer!

Thank you!
Elaine

Cards...

My parents have come into town to play the role of full-time childcare provider while I head to the less chaotic confines of my downtown office. That means two things. First, my children are extremely happy, because my parents are not afraid to hand them a stack of quarters (my dad) or a cookie (my mom). Both are still equally cool.

The second thing it means is that I don't get anything done that is not essential (and I do count my ten-miler on Saturday morning as essential). Rather than tooling around in this space or on Facebook at night, I'm playing cards. Only thing different this time around? Connor has been playing spades on his iPad and was ready to test out live competition. So instead of playing bridge after the little people went to bed, we played spades with Connor and then resumed our usual bridge game. After Connor and Ed got crushed the first night (when Connor learned that bidding something other than 4 is occasionally wise and sorting cards can be helpful), they walked away victors last night - right on the edge of disaster.

Connor was super thrilled.

I'm pretty sure after my parents leave, Connor will start teaching Helen the fine art of cards, because he'd love to keep our  nightly game going!

Elaine

{this moment} Schooling Grandpa Rodney at Foosball

From SouleMama: {this moment} – A Friday ritual. A single photo – no words – capturing a moment from the week. A simple, special, extraordinary moment. A moment I want to pause, savor and remember. Share your own moment in the comments at SouleMama.com.

 

North Star

Someday, I hope my children think of me as their North Star - the person that shines just a little bit brighter than all the other people in their life. If I'm lucky, I'll be the person they think about when they get to a tough spot. I'll be the one they relive funny stories with and call when they find out they or their partner are pregnant. I'll be the one who shines a light, when all the other lights still leave the world dark. Because it's just a little bit too much to ask that they never encounter darkness.

Connor and Helen each have their own qualities - some of them are easily understood by the world, others a little more difficult. Take, for example, that glazed look Connor gets. He's probably not ignoring you. He's probably trying to digest something you just said, or he's living so inside himself that he just can't break out. He's not trying to make you crazy, I promise. Or the way Helen will adamantly insist it is noon, even as the sun descends. She's just trying to tell you what time she wishes it were. The past is last Friday and the future is tomorrow. The rest of time is just irrelevant.

To be a North Star for someone, you have to recognize that you're at least a little bit like each other. That you're made of the same stuff, even if the stuff doesn't seem to be put together in the right way for both of you. Even if the stuff is really hard to understand. That thing that makes Connor try something a second time even when it makes no sense to do so? That's Ed. That thing that makes Helen refuse to budge because everyone is looking at the little guy to give? That's me.

But I'm also the one standing in the corner and I swear, every time I see one of them figure out something on their own, a little part of gets lifted up. I try not to instantly react with a "good job". I try, instead, to smile and let them feel their own pride, not borrow mine. These are the moments when they don't so much need a North Star, but it's hopefully nice to see a smile of confirmation. But the moment when the pine car fails to win first, when the beads fall off the necklace and scatter on the ground, and when that last task seems impossible - that's when you need a North Star.

And if you look over your shoulder just a little bit, I'm trying so hard to be where you can see me out of the corner out of your eye.

Elaine

This post was inspired by Raising Cubby: A Father and Son’s Adventures with Asperger’s, Trains, Tractors, and High Explosives by John Elder Robison. Parenting is a challenging job, but what challenges does a parent with Asperger's face? Join From Left to Write on March 12 as we discuss Raising Cubby. As a member, I received a copy of the book for review purposes.

My Dad -and Grandma M

By many accounts, this has not been a good year for my dad. He started off the year watching his beloved KSU wildcats lose in the Fiesta Bowl and today, he will watch his 97 year old mother be buried. But if you see my dad in the next few weeks, he will be the same as he was when I was home at Christmas - mellow, happy, and ready to chat.

If you are a child and want to play Monopoly, just set up the card table and he'll join you. He'll go geocaching with you - if it's not too cold and windy, and he will have a story to tell. Always, there is a story to tell. No matter what you tell him, you won't rattle him. It's just not his style. My mom told me there was a fan of the team that beat KSU in one of the golf clubhouses my parents visited after the game who couldn't help but make nasty remarks to my parents. My dad just shrugged and told him "we've lost before, and we'll lose again".

Because that's my dad. And that's been my dad for 60 years, I suspect (I've only known him for nearly 40, and I have very few memories of those first couple of years).

It's been six years since my grandfather died. The moments of lucidity since then (and before) for my grandma have been reportedly few and far between. Alzheimer's took her mind, and eventually the rest of her body followed. I don't think she had any major health issue prompting her death, her body just stopped working. And of course, at 97, that's a pretty reasonable thing for a body to do.

NINETY-SEVEN. Just ruminate on that for a minute. That is a crazy age to live to. Yet, my sister and I have both admitted we hope we have a parent around when we reach sixty - and thanks to the way math works, that means my mom will need to live to 89 and my dad will need to live to 91. So, not quite 97, but still...

My grandma played organ, liked to sing a bit, and was a champion speller. She fussed over invisible dust bunnies, dyed her hair, and clearly felt like she needed to wear make-up. I have no idea if she agreed or disagreed with my grandfather's conservative politics because she was a lady, and ladies do not disagree out loud.

The irony of having just taught Helen a Peggy Seeger song about wanting to be an engineer and fighting for fair wages is not lost on me, as I type this. No, Helen, I don't want you to be a lady. But I think it suited your great-grandma.

My grandma didn't say a lot, didn't smile in photos, and should've stayed out of the kitchen. Her two kitchen legacies are the ability to turn tin-foil into gravy (how else to explain the similarity in taste?) and burning rolls.

Years ago, we were eating Thanksgiving dinner at my grandparents' home. My brother-in-law put into action the tried-and-true practice of smothering the turkey and potatoes with gravy, because that? That would make everything taste good. My mom, sister, and I all stood there in shock, because we had spent so many years avoiding the gravy, that I think we had forgotten how powerful the stuff was. We have had more than one laugh reliving the look on my brother-in-law's face when he took a bite.

That same dinner, my grandma had put a pan of rolls in the oven. Mind you, these are just the store bought rolls that come in packages that essentially need to be reheated or browned a little bit. The rolls were done, and my Aunt came into the kitchen and removed them from the oven - right on time. I observed the bold act, thinking that for the first time ever, the rolls would not be burnt. Only, before my aunt could set the pan down, my grandma put them right back into the oven and admonished my aunt that the turkey wasn't done yet. And that pretty much sums up every cooking memory I have of my grandma.

She might be the one person for whom canned goods were truly a blessing.

In retrospect, I think her mind might have been leaving her even then. All those times my grandpa talked over her (and I assure you, my angry feminist college self thought this was awful) were maybe just cover for something my grandpa recognized that he was keeping from everyone else.

People who visited my grandma reported that she wanted to go back home to Mankato and years ago, she told me the same thing. Her mind has been in Mankato for a long time. My dad assures me my grandma is in a better place and deep down, I'm grateful that her body has caught up with her mind.

I hope my dad's year turns around. He deserves it.

Elaine

Happy Birthday, Mom!

My mom used to joke that nobody in the house needed to be worried about anything, because she took care of it for all of us. There's more truth in that statement than I should admit.

I bet she was hoping when she got me shooed out of the nest, she could unload some of that worrying she was doing on my behalf. That didn't happen. Maybe, she thought, when I became a mom I would start to worry for myself. Unfortunately for her, I don't think this has happened, either.

I was sitting around a few days ago, trying to remember the many times I called her this year with the opening line "do you have a few minutes to talk"? For reference, she should hang up when I do this. But she doesn't. Instead, she lets me interrupt whatever she is doing, and I unload on her about something that's happening in my life - almost always related to my kids. She tries to troubleshoot the situation with me, and I know there have been many times when she's silently thought about her schedule, wondering what she was going to miss or need to reschedule if she came out to DC - which she has done and I'm sure will do again.

And after every one of these calls, I stop worrying. It's amazing. And I know, of course, it's because she's worrying, and that worry will be passed along into the universe and then whatever issue vexes me will be solved. It's not fair to her, but I just can't seem to break the habit. That phone is just so close.

So this year, for my mom's birthday, I tried to say thank you in some teeny-tiny way, for she does for me, without ever making it seem like I'm putting her out. I purchased her a needle-felting kit to make pumpkins, which is something we did when she was visiting last Fall. She had thought about looking for supplies, but I was pretty certain she hadn't tracked everything down yet.

Helen presented the gift, and I do think my mom was both surprised and happy.

And then, just to seal the deal, and perhaps to serve as a reminder for all those calls that were related to Connor this year, Connor gave her a potholder that he had made the artwork for. He was extremely proud of this potholder, and I'm pretty sure my mom liked it.

Next year, I should present her with the gift of not asking her to worry about me, but I'm guessing I'll be calling her within a few weeks saying "do you have a few minutes?". And like always, she'll probably let me interrupt her, and she'll talk me through whatever happens to be going on.

Elaine

P.S. If the pumpkins aren't finished by summer, I'll sit down and felt them with you.

Technology Fail

This past weekend, my parents came to visit. Sadly, I have few photographs from the weekend because at some point, my memory card became corrupted.

Saturday was Helen's dance recital, and afterwards Connor and my dad played baseball. They were having a blast with my dad pitching meatballs to Connor that Connor promptly pounded out of the park (our backyard). Both of them were laughing. Connor played with my dad for probably the longest stretch of baseball in his young career, and Ed and I both stood there thinking that if Connor practiced like this every night, he couldn't help but learn to play well.

Dad - I realize this is somewhat of an inconvenience, but could you please fly back for another visit? I promise I'll make sure all the photographs I'm taking are actually getting written to the card.

Other lost moments: Connor's first grade musical today, Helen's recital, and I can't even bear to think of what else. Thankfully, my mom took photographs of the recital, and the day we were horsing around at the playground, I snapped photos of Helen with my dad's camera.

Flowers from my front yard that my mom acquired for Helen. She was thrilled.

Elaine

Finding Your Bonds

A few years ago, I picked up the book "Just Us: Adventures and Travels of a Mother and Daughter". I fell in love with the idea of traveling with my mom - pushing her to do things that I would love, because no matter how many times my mother says she doesn't enjoy traveling, or how odd spending a week at a yoga retreat might seem to her, or how unlikely it would be for her to plan to hike Machu Picchu - I would love all of these enough for both of us. Really. I promise.

I am so in love with the idea of traveling with my mom, in fact, that I included it on my "bucket list" that I put together in 2010.

Just finding out that my online book club was going to read "Up: A Mother and Daughter's Peakbagging Adventure" by Patricia Ellis Herr was enough to get me thinking about this dream of mine. Of course, my mom is currently traveling in Italy and Switzerland, so the chances that she'll run off with me anytime soon are slim. And that's OK.

Reading the book made me realize that although I find the idea of traveling with my mom fascinating, the travel isn't the point. Patricia Ellis Herr could have written this book about anything at all that she shared with her daughters. She could have written about making chocolates, wheatweaving, knitting, or even taking her daughter to a restaurant on her birthday for pancakes and french fries. And even though I haven't convinced my mom to travel with me yet, she's done all of those things.

And I have lists of things I do with each of my children as well. Connor and Helen, for example, are turning into my theatre buddies. I've taken them to full-length shows along with loads of children's theatre. Perhaps this will be our thing?

Maybe we haven't stumbled upon our "thing" yet, and maybe our "thing" will evolve as we all grow older. And maybe Helen will someday invite me on some crazy adventure and I promise, Helen, I will leap at that chance.

Although I've realized that it's not the travel, it's the memories, I also think I've figured out the perfect vacation - cooking school in France! A little adventure, good food, great scenery...I think it could work. I do hope I get the chance, but even if I don't, my mom has given me a million memories.

Elaine

This post was inspired by Patrica Ellis Herr's book "Up: A Mother and Daughter's Peakbagging Adventure". I received a free copy of the book as a member of the From Left to Write Book Club.

Naming

I remember when Connor was younger and he named objects. His old standby was "Connor". We had Connor-fish, Connor-baby, and a bajillion other things named Connor. The only thing I can recall getting a name other than Connor is the stuffed pug that Grandma Lynn gave Connor for Christmas when he was 2, and Ed jumped in with a name before Connor could bestow a name on the animal.

When I arrived home this afternoon, Connor was at the neighbor's house playing and Helen and her babysitter were in the backyard. I asked Helen what was going on and she informed me that they were looking for "tweeter". Luckily, they had already found "ravioli". Tweeter looks like a rock to most people, but is actually a bunny. Ravioli is a brick red rock that is also a bunny - possibly Tweeter's mom, but maybe just a sibling.

Confused? So was Ed.

Maya the dog and Sylvia the blue baby (which Helen lifted from my parent's home) are sleeping with Helen tonight. Dorothy - one of the Bitty Babies that Grandma Lynn gave Helen for her 4th birthday, is downstairs this evening with her unnamed brother.

Is this a girl-boy thing, or is it random? Strangely (at least to me), Connor seems much less self-centered than Helen.

Elaine

NaBloPoMo Advice Column - Day 27 - Take Advantage of Unseasonably Warm Days

I'm writing 30 thoughts in 30 days for NaBloPoMo. In no particular order, I'm giving you my worldview - as it comes up.

It is in the 70s here at the end of November. That is ridiculously warm, particularly given that we had snow in October this year.

We spent Friday at Longwood Gardens with my parents, and though we had figured we be there for a few hours and then head to Stausburg to ride the train, we never left. How could we? It was gorgeous.

Yesterday, we finally got all the leaves raked and the beds mulched for winter, and today the kids rode bikes, played in the yard, and dug for dinosaurs in this very messy game Connor received for his birthday.

Not a photo was taken these past few days but trust me, our yard needed these extra warm days, and we definitely took advantage of them! Feels like borrowed time!

Elaine

Building a worldview:
Day 1: Surround Yourself With Brilliant People (though my friend Susan makes a good point that clever is pretty good, too).
Day 2: Whatever, it works.
Day 3: Surround Yourself With Beauty
Day 4: When You Go Through Something New - Drag Someone With You
Day 5: No sweatpants.
Day 6: Embrace the Crazy
Day 7: Listen to Your Friends or Fight Old Fogey-dom. Get out there. Keep experiencing fun, new things.
Day 8: Don't Let Anyone Sell You Short
Day 9: Take a Lesson From Your Child
Day 10: Consume the best chocolate you can
Day 11: Help your neighbor.
Day 12: Take Breaks
Day 13: Establish a Realistic Rhythm
Day 14: Sometimes, you just have to ask.
Day 15: Loose Lips Sink Ships
Day 16: Stop Things from Going from Bad to Worse
Day 17: Understand the Price of Success
Day 18: Question Everything
Day 19: Drink Great Wine with Old Friends
Day 20: Never Be a Volunteer at a Street Show in New Orleans
Day 21: Let Your Friends Bail You Out
Day 22: Turn Trash Into Treasure
Day 23: Always Have a Dream
Day 24: Give Thanks
Day 25: Develop Your Own Sense of Style - and Own It!
Day 26: Always Have the Ingredients for Chocolate Chip Cookies on Hand

Back from Kansas

For those following along at home - this actually happened in July. For whatever reason, I never published it. Enjoy!

We just spent a week in Kansas, and the whole time we were there, it was super hot, and I resisted mightily the urge to cry out "I'm melting" just like the Wicked Witch in the Wizard of Oz. But really, I should've. I was able to remember the absolute best thing about my family. We don't believe in sunk costs. Ever. And that means, if we have purchased tickets for an amusement park, and we have made plans to go, if it is open, we go. Even if it's 200 degrees outside. We make a pact to all pretend like we don't notice it's 200 degrees outside, we don our hats, and we drink lots and lots of water.

And so it was, that on what was possibly the hottest day of the year, we found ourselves on our annual adventure to Worlds of Fun. Connor is now big enough to enjoy quite a few of the rides, and Helen is daring enough to climb in with him whenever the gatekeeper will let her.

Here we are at the entrance, totally ready to rock it! Ed is holding a coffee cup behind his back. Yeah, like that was necessary!

One of the things I like best about Worlds of Fun is that many of the rides are the same as when I was a kid, pounding pavement in 200 degree whether if that's what the weather happened to be. The "Old Cars" are classic. My sister and I decided to let Dad drive. I'm not sure if he fell asleep at the wheel or if he's reading a map so he knows where he is going. Both are equally likely.

Although I am becoming a greater and greater wimp when it comes to rides, my sister is defying age and getting more and more daring. Here she is with Ed (our normal go-to guy for all things dangerous at amusement parks) and Emily - thrill-seeker extraordinaire on the Detonator. I'm not going to tell you whether anyone vomited, but I will tell you that I don't remember anyone going a second time.

Before the ride.

After the ride.

During the ride.

Last year, Helen was too short to go on the log ride, and everyone in the park knew it. This year? Score!

At lunch, we had Connor practice being tall so he could go on the Fury of the Nile. Fail.

Add a few spins on the Octopus, a roller coaster, the train in the kid section of the park, and several other days and you have a family visit to Worlds of Fun.

Rather than whining about how hot it was all night - do you know what we did?

We patted ourselves on the back for choosing a day when the LINES WERE SHORT. Now that's a good attitude - friends!

Elaine

Bring on the Quarters, Grandpa Rodney

Connor has been obsessed with money for some time now, and I don't mind it at all because the little dude can spend a lot of time counting coins - which is time he is sitting still, quiet, and happy. I appreciate all of those things sometimes. He's mostly obsessed with the Penny Arcade at TDBank, which is a big coin counting machine that sits inside each TDBank. Prior to dumping coins in the machine, you guess the value of your coins. If your guess is within $1.99 of the total, you win a prize. Because of the aforementioned counting, Connor always wins a prize.

I instituted a rule that he had to have at least $10 in coins before I'd take him to the bank, and basically now I spend a lot of time with Connor begging me for coins, and then Connor lamenting not having enough to go to the bank.

Because of Helen's Social Security number problems, I didn't open up a bank account for her when I opened Connor's account. Although a second identity might prove useful in Helen's later life, I didn't want the hassle of having more official documents with the wrong name. On Saturday, Helen made use of her newly minted SSN and I opened an account for her. On the bright side (for her), Connor will no longer pilfer all her money. On the downside (for me), now there are two coin seekers in the house.

Every time Connor and Helen visit my dad, he gives them quarters.

Just a little warning for you, Dad, for our upcoming trip. A few days ago, Connor announced to Helen:

"Helen - we're going to visit Grandpa Rodney soon. He always gives us more quarters!"

And, because the two of them think alike, Helen instantly chimed in with:

"Yes, Connor! And then we can to go to TDBank to get more prizes!"

If this bank goes out of business, blame my kids for squeezing them for beach balls, band-aids, coloring books, crayons, and a bajillion other prizes they've scored in the past couple of years.

Elaine

End of an Era: The Power is Off

Back in the Jimmy Carter era, people received substantial subsidies for investing in alternative energy, such as solar panels. On top of federal tax credits, Kansas offered a state tax credit. That was all my dad needed to move from being a gas dependent chump to a man who could brag about the generation of energy on top his home. I remember more than one engineer admiring those beauties.

Unfortunately, before solar energy could really take off, the subsidies ended (compliments of a Ronald Reagan energy policy that favoried nuclear over solar). This caused significant shrinkage in the industry, which meant fewer people able to repair aging systems. At some point, my parents' unit was struck by lightning and from then on out, everything was a little haywire.

The biggest inconvenience was that the shut-off for the system didn't work correctly. The way the system was supposed to work was that in winter, it would heat the main floor, the basement, and then the water. In the summer, it would heat the water. By the end, I don't know what it really did.

I do know, that once the shut-off didn't work properly, my dad implemented a more manual system to override the aging infrastructure of his beloved system. And thus, one of two memories of my father that will never, ever have the opportunity to grow faint was born. Over, and over, and over, my sister and I heard the phrase:

"Did you check the solar?"

And, even though we were reminded constantly, I think the most common response my dad got from us was "oops!" followed by a dash to whatever piece of the unit we were supposed to switch off when certain conditions had been satisfied.

This past week, that era ended. My sister and I held a moment of silence when those panels were stripped from our childhood home. I would say that my dad finally gave up and had the unit removed from the home. But I think the opposite happened. The panels were cloudy and not working very efficiently, additional problems surfaced, and whatever bragging rights used to exist no longer presented themselves.

In other words, my dad outlasted solar energy.

Good-bye, solar panels. This issue might have been the only thing my dad and Jimmy Carter ever saw eye-to-eye on.

Elaine

Cherry Blossoms!

A few weeks ago, at the peak of the cherry blossoms, Grandpa Dick came for a visit. It was a little cold the evening we went, but the trees were beautiful, and the company was grand.

I attended an evening photography class the week before Grandpa Dick's visit, so I was trying my hardest to shoot without all the auto settings on. It's harder than I remember. And, as seen in the photo above, I clearly forgot the rule of "don't take pictures in dappled light". Sigh.

The hardest part of the evening, was walking along the tidal basin. I had half my attention on the trees, and the other half was in constant worry mode because I was *certain* that Helen one of my children, would end up plopping in what looked like very cold water.

I don't actually have any photos of them walking precariously close to the edge of the rather full sidewalks, because I was terrified that if I took my camera out, they'd start focusing on my rather than where they were walking, and that would be the end of them.

Luckily, no children ended up getting wet on our adventure.

I love this time of year in DC. We don't typically get very much Spring, but what we get is truly delightful.

Elaine

A Bright Spot...

Well, my beloved Wildcats lost the game tonight. I called my parents to make certain nobody had experienced a heart attack, and luckily, nobody had. My mom reminded me that even in Manhattan, Kansas, the sun would rise tomorrow.

I thought I'd do my best to end the day on a high note, in spite of my broken heart.

Elaine

Let's Play Ball!

In my house, when you participate in an activity, you practice. Even if you have no hope of ever doing anything more than making daisy chains in the outfield, you practice. (Although not the daisy chain making, which I suppose I was quite good at, but the actual activity.)

At some point, my sister and I decided to participate in whatever come-all t-ball league existed in our hometown. As in, no talent required to participate.

Being that my dad is an engineer, he immediately set to manufacturing his own tee for t-ball because, ahem, why would you pay for something like that when you can get an old coffee can, fill it with cement, add a fat piece of pvc pipe, and put some random rubber thing on the top to make your own tee? That, for those who don't know, is what living with an engineer is like in a nutshell.

Besides being a cost effective way to get a baseball tee, it's also a way to guarantee that your grandchildren will be able to use the tee. I'm willing to bet that my friends whose parents purchased a tee saw that tee tossed in the trash a few years after their t-ball careers ended.

Not mine.

My tee is still standing, in like-new condition as the folks on Craigslist would say.

And so it is, that every time Connor visits, he attempts to master the game. And now I present to you, baseball in 6 steps.

1. Grab metal bat that weights about as much as you do.

2. Approach tee.

3. Hey batter, batter, s-wing, batter, batter.

 4. Make contact with the ball, or in this case, the tee. Because that tee? It's set to exactly one height. If you're too short, you hit the rubber part. Throw the bat and start running!

5. Do a victory dance after outwitting your dad by moving the bases so you can get a home run!

6. Then go inside and bake a cake with Grandma.

Elaine

Happy months 37 and 38, Helen!

Dear Helen,

You make me smile more times than I could ever record. You embrace life with squeals of delight, and wow can you put on a show. At Thanksgiving, your Grandma Lynn gave you your Christmas presents since we won't see her again until after the holidays. After opening each one, you gasped "this is just what I wanted". But really, we all knew instantly what the favorite one was.

I present to you, photographic proof that you are quite possibly not my daughter.

Along with photographic proof that you most definitely are my daughter.

You love your Grandpa Dick - just adore him. And during our Thanksgiving visit, you found some automated music making device, which you brought out to share with everyone. You then announced there was a dance contest and let's just say, Grandpa Dick has moves. Unfortunately for him, he lost, because although you didn't mention it before the contest started, to "win", one needed to do a surprise drop to the floor maneuver, that really only you could do.

After the dance contest, you insisted that Grandpa Dick hold your hair back so you could properly apply your make-up.

Your first visit to Santa this year was like all the rest. You kept a cautious distance. But then we attended the Daughters of the American Revolution annual Christmas party and wow - I guess you just know who the real deal is because you climbed right up on this Santa's lap. He is, by far, the best looking Santa I have ever laid eyes on.

You yell, you stomp your feet, you don't get pushed around by anyone.

And you, more than anyone I know, seem to realize that politeness and a smile can go a long way.

Love,
Mommy

The Albert Einstein Look Better Suit Me

When I turned 16, my dad taught me how to drive. That same summer, his hair went from virtually black, to mostly white. Maybe it was the driving lessons, maybe just a coincidence of time.

A few years ago, I noticed my first white hair. It stuck out of my head like a crazy antennae, and it was then that I realized as an old lady, I might have hair that made me look as if I had just put my finger in an electric socket. I didn't notice another until today.

A few hours ago, I looked in the mirror and noticed two more white hairs sticking straight out. I share this with you in case the next time you see me, you feel compelled to ask me if I have recently electrocuted myself.

Rest assured. I have not.

But I have worked hard for those white hairs, and I'm not about to color them.

Bring it, old age. I'm ready. (And it is not lost on me that today, my sister celebrates her 40th birthday.)  I'm pretty sure her husband isn't posting on his blog about any white hairs on her head.

Elaine

Best Present Ever - Lego Train That Goes All By Itself!

Several months ago, Connor had a gift card to Toys-R-Us that allowed him to get a $10 item, or something like that (maybe less!). Ed and he went in search of "something small". But of course, Connor fell in love with a Lego train that goes all by itself. It was love at first sight, and he talked about it a lot. The pricetag kept Ed from bringing it home.

So then I started giving Connor $5 a week (most weeks) and I told him when he saved up enough money, maybe he could go purchase the train. I figured if he still wanted it after more than 6 months, he could get it.

I included it on a Christmas list for Connor, and because we celebrated Thanksgiving in Albany this year, and will not celebrate Christmas there, Ed's mom presented him with the Lego train as a Christmas gift a few days ago.

Connor was ecstatic. He saw the box and guessed right away what it was. He was so excited for it, in fact, that I talked to him a little bit about how sometimes we think one item is in a box, and it turns out to be another, and it's still appropriate to thank the giver for whatever item it is, even if it wasn't exactly what we thought it was.

Connor agreed. And he told me that he knew Grandma Lynn always got him good presents. And he would be happy with whatever was in the box...but he just knew it was a Lego train.

And note the incredibly awesome hat Connor is wearing. I knit that up for him over the break, and even though I wish I had opted for the smaller size, he loves it, and I think it's the cutest thing ever.

Today when we got home, Connor couldn't wait to show off his new train to our au pair, and then he told me at bath time that he was the luckiest boy in the world because he got the Lego train.

Elaine

Goin' to New York City! But not too fast.

This past summer, we drove to New York City to visit my friend Vickie. Athough the trip was somewhat traumatic for me, the kids (and Ed, I believe) had a ball. Since then, Helen regularly packs a bag and tells me she's "Headin' to New York City!" and then she takes her pretend vacation.

Over Columbus Day, Ed's dad came to visit and we took him to a dairy farm. Because if there's one thing Ed and I know about, it's how to have a good time.

As a side note, we learned from our trip that the life of a dairy cow is really, really crappy. Seriously. Bummed me out, although apparently I was the only one because Connor actually wanted to live there forever and become a dairy farmer. Also, sniff, sniff...see that bottle in Helen's hands? Among the last.

Besides walking around the farm and seeing cows eat and get milked, we also took a hike

and went to the fair. And because were were in a sparsely populated farming community, this fair was the real deal. Complete with hay ride and  John Deere tractors.

Helen immediately noticed the child sized tractor and Connor and her hopped right on in. And Helen announced, in classic Helen style "we're goin' to New York City" and then she stepped on the gas. Only clearly someone had not thought this out well for many reasons - chief among them:

1. The car had a battery.
2. The car was about six inches from a metal post.

In the span of about ten seconds, Helen made her gleeful announcement and then ran head into the post, which totally ruined her fun. And, then the lady staffing the John Deere tractor (if that is, in fact, what you call sitting in a lawn chair ignoring everything going on until a three year old bothers to crash your car) started telling me how Helen shouldn't have done that. And when I told her Helen didn't realize what was going to happen, she started in on how I should've known Helen couldn't sit in the car and of course, I wanted to tell her that the information she was giving to me rudely now would've been a lot more helpful a few minutes before the fun-ending car crash, but instead I just told Connor and Helen we needed to leave because that woman was carrying around a lot of negative energy.

But man, the glee Helen had for those two seconds before the car crashed is something I hope I never forget.

And note to people running a fair: if you don't want a child to sit on a child sized object, you ought to put a sign up, or a rope around it, or for goodness sake, at least remove the battery! Or, you know, be prepared to politely tell parents that children aren't allowed on the object before there is a car crash.

Elaine