To be honest, I did pause while digging through my T-shirt drawer this morning. Martini T? Too flip. Blue shirt? Not long enough in the torso. Another color too drab. And so I was left with the green "Happy Saint Patrick's Day" spelled out in rhinestones. Would anyone bother to notice? A T-shirt is just a shirt, and the letters were small. I wear the black Christmasy reindeer in sparkles fairly often and no one seems to notice, so Irish green it was.
A Grandma, the sitter for one of Monkey1's classmates, said something about my shirt.
"It's a $7 shirt," I shrugged, "I want to get my money's worth out of it."
Then later, Monkey1's swimming coach said something about my shirt being two months late.
"I'm a St. Patrick's baby," I retorted, "I can wear it whenever I want!"
Her face lit up, "I am too! The day after!"
Now really, another March! Obviously there's something about June for starting babies.
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Friday, April 22, 2011
The Reality of Books
This morning, my two Monkeys and two friends were all squished together in the back bench row of a minivan, sharing back and forth copies of the Magic Tree House books. These feature a brother and sister, ages 8 and 7 I think, who time-travel with books and a magical tree house. Our family has been listening to the books on CD, while my friend has been reading them to her children.
My friend and I were having a conversation when a rising ruckus in the backseat finally caused her to intervene: several children were upset because they were wishing on the books, just as the books' characters would do, but they were not going anywhere!
My friend and I were having a conversation when a rising ruckus in the backseat finally caused her to intervene: several children were upset because they were wishing on the books, just as the books' characters would do, but they were not going anywhere!
Tuesday, April 19, 2011
Like Storm Troopers
Monkey1 is almost a first grader. I witnessed a shift today.
We got to school 15 minutes early, on purpose in order to search the playground for a book she left there yesterday. She found it right where she left it, in a bush, and then we planted ourselves in the garden space with benches near the church doors, halfway up the sidewalk to the gym entrance to the school. Actually, I parked myself on a bench and Monkey1 and Monkey2 jumped around on the flagstone path, Monkey1 practicing her counting by tens, fives, and twos. A classmate joined her, under the full-suited eye of a father about to head to work. When the bell rang, opening the school doors, the other kindergartner bid a cheerful good-bye shout to his father. Monkey1 told me that I didn't have to walk with her, that she was going with...
"We're going to sneak," he told her, "like storm troopers" (not the storm troopers I grew up with, who were the bad guys, but the earlier ones, who have their own cartoon shows these days) "through the church -- it's faster!"
In amusement I followed well behind as they tip-toed through the gathering space, out to the covered walkway, to the school front doors by the office. Monkey1's classmate had to ring for the door to be unlocked, he was so short that the secretary did not see him go by the window, and then they shot in through the doors, after a brief struggle to yank them open.
No kiss, no good-bye, as I watched her with pride. My kindergartner can almost walk into school on her own.
We got to school 15 minutes early, on purpose in order to search the playground for a book she left there yesterday. She found it right where she left it, in a bush, and then we planted ourselves in the garden space with benches near the church doors, halfway up the sidewalk to the gym entrance to the school. Actually, I parked myself on a bench and Monkey1 and Monkey2 jumped around on the flagstone path, Monkey1 practicing her counting by tens, fives, and twos. A classmate joined her, under the full-suited eye of a father about to head to work. When the bell rang, opening the school doors, the other kindergartner bid a cheerful good-bye shout to his father. Monkey1 told me that I didn't have to walk with her, that she was going with...
"We're going to sneak," he told her, "like storm troopers" (not the storm troopers I grew up with, who were the bad guys, but the earlier ones, who have their own cartoon shows these days) "through the church -- it's faster!"
In amusement I followed well behind as they tip-toed through the gathering space, out to the covered walkway, to the school front doors by the office. Monkey1's classmate had to ring for the door to be unlocked, he was so short that the secretary did not see him go by the window, and then they shot in through the doors, after a brief struggle to yank them open.
No kiss, no good-bye, as I watched her with pride. My kindergartner can almost walk into school on her own.
Wednesday, March 30, 2011
March Close-Out
March Madness at our house:
Third anniversary of moving into our house, marked by taking pictures of every room and the yard, ideally with the Monkeys scampering in and out of the shots, tracking the changes to our abode in the past year.
Monkey2 turned 4.
Husband turned something.
I turned something, and really I don't know what. Whenever anyone asks my age, I literally have to do the math. If it's a friend, who then sees me counting on my fingers, the question is dismissed. If it is a doctor's office asking, I actually have to figure it out.
Irish Homecoming Feast: our annual St. Patrick's Day party, and family lump birthday party. Cooked four crock pots of corned beef this year, and we had barely enough leftovers for one sandwich. The Guinness corned beef (3 cans of beer instead of water) was the hands-down favorite.
***
Apparently my banana bread is prize-worthy. My husband's goddaughter needed a banana bread recipe for a contest at work, so I wrote up my Tuesday banana bread directions (which I know by heart), and it took second place.
***
Woke up to a light snow a week after my birthday. "MY BIRTHDAY STORM!" I said gleefully. The Monkeys took up the chant, countered by my husband grumbling that I'm not allowed to have a birthday storm now that I don't live in Vermont. Fortunately snow is magical to my Monkeys, so they prefer to believe that Mom can get a snow storm for a birthday present.
Third anniversary of moving into our house, marked by taking pictures of every room and the yard, ideally with the Monkeys scampering in and out of the shots, tracking the changes to our abode in the past year.
Monkey2 turned 4.
Husband turned something.
I turned something, and really I don't know what. Whenever anyone asks my age, I literally have to do the math. If it's a friend, who then sees me counting on my fingers, the question is dismissed. If it is a doctor's office asking, I actually have to figure it out.
Irish Homecoming Feast: our annual St. Patrick's Day party, and family lump birthday party. Cooked four crock pots of corned beef this year, and we had barely enough leftovers for one sandwich. The Guinness corned beef (3 cans of beer instead of water) was the hands-down favorite.
***
Apparently my banana bread is prize-worthy. My husband's goddaughter needed a banana bread recipe for a contest at work, so I wrote up my Tuesday banana bread directions (which I know by heart), and it took second place.
***
Woke up to a light snow a week after my birthday. "MY BIRTHDAY STORM!" I said gleefully. The Monkeys took up the chant, countered by my husband grumbling that I'm not allowed to have a birthday storm now that I don't live in Vermont. Fortunately snow is magical to my Monkeys, so they prefer to believe that Mom can get a snow storm for a birthday present.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
My Baby is Four
Today Monkey2 is four. My baby is four years old.
She opened all her presents before breakfast, the necklace her sister had made her, the bike bell, the me & dolly stripped zebra dress I made, the curved travel pillow shaped like a cat that I made, and a box of other clothing, second-hands that I've been saving.
I think Monkey1 felt a bit left out. Her birthday is next month, and while getting dressed for school she changed the calendar to April.
Monkey2 had school for the morning, and we brought a box of cookies for the class that we had made yesterday. I used the chocolate chip cookie recipe, without the chocolate chips. I squirted green frosting in the shape of a cross on the top of each cookie, and Monkey2 added a mini-marshmallow in the center.
After school, lunch at home, we went back to school/church for her violin lesson. This was her third lesson. The teacher added more little pieces of yellow tape to the fingerboard to show where the fingers hold down the strings. At the end of the lesson, Monkey2 proudly told her teacher that her birthday was TODAY. So her teacher pulled out her own violin and played "Happy Birthday." Monkey2 was so mesmerized, intently watching the fingers on the large violin, that she was hardly paying attention to the song.
Then, rather than go home and come back again for Monkey1's school pick-up, I had tossed Monkey2's bike and new bell in the car. We took a little walk/ride around the block, and then sat down on the benches outside church with a coloring book until the end of day bell rang.
Supper was Monkey2's favorite: Chinese take-out. The paternal grandparents came with gifts too. More costume changes as she tried on all the cute spring fashions and cuddled the stuffed animal dogs. (She dearly wants a real one.) With much huffing and puffing, she blew out the four candles on her shamrock shaped cake, her requested flavor: carrot cake with green frosting.
New Hello Kitty nightgown for bedtime, a chapter of The BFG, and tuck-in and prayers. Same as for the past two years, both Monkeys prayed in hopes of future siblings.
My baby is four. I guess that means she's not a "baby" anymore. She's certainly too heavy when she tries to sleep though older sister's school pick-up and I try to carry her on my shoulder.
She opened all her presents before breakfast, the necklace her sister had made her, the bike bell, the me & dolly stripped zebra dress I made, the curved travel pillow shaped like a cat that I made, and a box of other clothing, second-hands that I've been saving.
I think Monkey1 felt a bit left out. Her birthday is next month, and while getting dressed for school she changed the calendar to April.
Monkey2 had school for the morning, and we brought a box of cookies for the class that we had made yesterday. I used the chocolate chip cookie recipe, without the chocolate chips. I squirted green frosting in the shape of a cross on the top of each cookie, and Monkey2 added a mini-marshmallow in the center.
After school, lunch at home, we went back to school/church for her violin lesson. This was her third lesson. The teacher added more little pieces of yellow tape to the fingerboard to show where the fingers hold down the strings. At the end of the lesson, Monkey2 proudly told her teacher that her birthday was TODAY. So her teacher pulled out her own violin and played "Happy Birthday." Monkey2 was so mesmerized, intently watching the fingers on the large violin, that she was hardly paying attention to the song.
Then, rather than go home and come back again for Monkey1's school pick-up, I had tossed Monkey2's bike and new bell in the car. We took a little walk/ride around the block, and then sat down on the benches outside church with a coloring book until the end of day bell rang.
Supper was Monkey2's favorite: Chinese take-out. The paternal grandparents came with gifts too. More costume changes as she tried on all the cute spring fashions and cuddled the stuffed animal dogs. (She dearly wants a real one.) With much huffing and puffing, she blew out the four candles on her shamrock shaped cake, her requested flavor: carrot cake with green frosting.
New Hello Kitty nightgown for bedtime, a chapter of The BFG, and tuck-in and prayers. Same as for the past two years, both Monkeys prayed in hopes of future siblings.
My baby is four. I guess that means she's not a "baby" anymore. She's certainly too heavy when she tries to sleep though older sister's school pick-up and I try to carry her on my shoulder.
Friday, March 11, 2011
Birthday Week Begins
Monkey2, my husband, and I have birthdays all in a row around and including St. Patrick's Day. Yes, that made quite a stir in the maternity ward when Monkey2 was born.
Monkey2 got a jump on the festivities with her birthday party today, five days early, because today was a teachers' in-service day. Her school friends were looking for something to do anyway! I did lay down the rule "the number you turn is the number of friends you invite" but we had to cheat a little and not count some siblings. I had nine children in the house, ages 1 to 6! Fortunately I had three mommies there too.
A Friday in Lent party... so peanut butter and jelly, pizza with tomato sauce and cheese, and pizza with cheese without sauce.
Then we did an egg hunt. I divided the children into kindergartners (Monkey1 and two others) and preschoolers (Monkey2 and her friends). I gave each group a box of plastic eggs, sent the older ones upstairs to hide their eggs and kept the preschoolers on the main level to hide theirs. Then the groups swapped locations in order to find the eggs. This went over really well, especially since the treasure inside the eggs were pennies; the Monkeys had stuffed eggs this morning, approximately two cents per egg. Not all the eggs were found, so we have more treasure hunting to do later.
Then, the pinata, which Monkey2 and I have been working on for two weeks with layers of paper mache. Yesterday we spray painted it, in the rain, and then hung it in the shed to dry. This morning we filled it with Squinkies, tiny rubber animals or people, and packets of Trader Joe's Fruity Flakes. The first to whack at the pinata was the birthday girl, and then everyone in birthday order, oldest last. Everyone got two turns, with the oldest six-year-old proudly smashing it open. Finally, the birthday cake, which was chocolate cupcakes in ice cream cones. Yesterday Monkey2 helped me decorate them with blue frosting, gummy bears and gummy penguins and drink umbrellas.
An hour party - whew!
Monkey2 got a jump on the festivities with her birthday party today, five days early, because today was a teachers' in-service day. Her school friends were looking for something to do anyway! I did lay down the rule "the number you turn is the number of friends you invite" but we had to cheat a little and not count some siblings. I had nine children in the house, ages 1 to 6! Fortunately I had three mommies there too.
A Friday in Lent party... so peanut butter and jelly, pizza with tomato sauce and cheese, and pizza with cheese without sauce.
Then we did an egg hunt. I divided the children into kindergartners (Monkey1 and two others) and preschoolers (Monkey2 and her friends). I gave each group a box of plastic eggs, sent the older ones upstairs to hide their eggs and kept the preschoolers on the main level to hide theirs. Then the groups swapped locations in order to find the eggs. This went over really well, especially since the treasure inside the eggs were pennies; the Monkeys had stuffed eggs this morning, approximately two cents per egg. Not all the eggs were found, so we have more treasure hunting to do later.
Then, the pinata, which Monkey2 and I have been working on for two weeks with layers of paper mache. Yesterday we spray painted it, in the rain, and then hung it in the shed to dry. This morning we filled it with Squinkies, tiny rubber animals or people, and packets of Trader Joe's Fruity Flakes. The first to whack at the pinata was the birthday girl, and then everyone in birthday order, oldest last. Everyone got two turns, with the oldest six-year-old proudly smashing it open. Finally, the birthday cake, which was chocolate cupcakes in ice cream cones. Yesterday Monkey2 helped me decorate them with blue frosting, gummy bears and gummy penguins and drink umbrellas.
An hour party - whew!
Wednesday, March 9, 2011
Ashes, Ashes
A week prior to Lent, Monkey1 raised an outcry against receiving ashes. Last year at preschool the parish priest had spoken to the children and distributed ashes. Monkey1 was extremely upset over this at the time, and the prospect of this happening all over again was worth trying to be sick and stay home. Finally though she asked me to sit in the back of church, and without a murmur she marched down the sidewalk to the school entrance that day. Or was that the day she walked next to a friend, leaving me way behind, and Monkey2 frantically shouting and blowing kisses to her sister's back?
Monkey2 however had other ideas than going to school. So I simply took her to Ash Wednesday Mass with me, and unwisely happened to sit right in front of a row of fifth grade girls who gushed over Monkey2 with the looped blonde braids. She cuted up for them too, except whenever we stood up, she firmly stuck both hands over her forehead to ward off any ashes.
Monkey1 received her ashes without protest, clutching on to her sixth grade buddy's arm to dear life, and he seemed encouraging and congratulatory when it was all over. Monkey2 hid behind me, hands over her forehead.
After Mass I turned Monkey2 over to the school office, and the secretary marched her off to class. When I returned two hours later, Monkey2 proudly told me at pick-up that the priest had come to the preschool and given everyone ashes, even her! I could not see a smudge on her forehead (whereas some of the other children had evident ash remaining), which she explained with "mine turned white."
Monkey2 however had other ideas than going to school. So I simply took her to Ash Wednesday Mass with me, and unwisely happened to sit right in front of a row of fifth grade girls who gushed over Monkey2 with the looped blonde braids. She cuted up for them too, except whenever we stood up, she firmly stuck both hands over her forehead to ward off any ashes.
Monkey1 received her ashes without protest, clutching on to her sixth grade buddy's arm to dear life, and he seemed encouraging and congratulatory when it was all over. Monkey2 hid behind me, hands over her forehead.
After Mass I turned Monkey2 over to the school office, and the secretary marched her off to class. When I returned two hours later, Monkey2 proudly told me at pick-up that the priest had come to the preschool and given everyone ashes, even her! I could not see a smudge on her forehead (whereas some of the other children had evident ash remaining), which she explained with "mine turned white."
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