Tuesday, December 30, 2008

SSSSSSHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!

I consider myself a pretty sociable person. I have close friends that I hang out with regularly, for coffee dates and parties and such. I enjoy spending quality time with my family. However, the two boys and my husband have all been home with me for 7...solid...endless days, and the nonstop togetherness is about to push me over the edge. At this moment, I would gladly throw some stuff into a bag, sneak out of the house under cover of night, and drive somewhere far, far away from them. The car would be silent, if I wanted it to be. My 5-year old would not be in the back seat, making up his own version of The Grinch Song ("you're a porcupine, Mr. Grinch, you really are a....butt!" I apologize, but these were his actual words). He has proven he can keep this up for as long as the car is moving, or until I yell, "Pleeeeaaase, stop", whichever comes first. Whenever I arrived at my destination, my 8-year old bottomless pit would not be asking me "is it snack time yet?" as he does approximately every two hours. There would certainly not be any Hoover Wind Tunnel Bowl on the television (get it? for teams that suck! see, I am losing my mind!) with pre-and post-game hoopla that leads directly into the next game, and the next. I would not answer questions or break up fights. I would not wash December mud off people's shoes. I would not purchase, prepare, or clean up after meals. What would I do? I would relax in the silence, feeling myself becoming calm and peaceful...until I was well-rested enough to be unbearably bored. Then I would return to my loving family, fortified for the chatter and chaos...bring on those last five days of Winter Break!

Sunday, December 28, 2008

I'm getting old (sigh)

An old college pal, who happens to be a childless bachelor, is hosting the New Year's Eve party this year...in his cozy townhouse that boasts new hardwood floors, but precious few kid-friendly entertainment options. Before RSVPing, I envisioned the following scenario: my charming-but-rambunctious offspring ecstatically hoover their way through all the festive snacks they're not normally allowed to eat (elapsed time: 10 minutes). They settle down to watch TV, another activity that is strictly monitored and limited at home (elapsed time: 30 minutes). They begin to feel bored and restless (elapsed time: 5 minutes). They initiate a spirited game of tackle football, using a dinner roll from the buffet, which inevitably ends with someone's head denting the aforementioned hardwood (elapsed time: about 2 minutes). Therefore, I decided the only prudent course of action was to try to rustle up a babysitter and leave them at home. I wasn't too hopeful, as I expected most teenagers to already have their own plans lined up for the NYE event. One of our favorite sitters was a little vague when I asked her if she was available. After quizzing me for a few minutes about the details, she finally came to the point: "You'd probably be home after midnight, right?" With an involuntary chuckle, I assured her that my husband and I would be back long before that, probably in our pjs, and maybe even asleep. "Oh, that's okay, then," she chirped, "my friend just wants me over at her house by the time the ball drops!" Hmm, I sort of recall those byegone days...before I valued my solid 8 hours of shuteye more than the champagne and noisemakers...and before the monkey boys woke me up every morning at 7 a.m. no matter how late any of us went to bed. So, I may be feeling ancient, but I will hand my children over to the sitter and go revel with the adults...until at least 10:00!

Tuesday, December 23, 2008

Super Mom

I just watched Iron Man (although I'm not such a huge fan of comic-book movies, I've always had a little thing for Robert Downey Jr.). It was thoroughly enjoyable, and inspired me to think of what superpowers I long to have. For example, I could be Chef Woman, able to snap my fingers and conjure (nutritionally balanced yet delicious) meals out of thin air. Or Hyperspeed Girl, who zips around town, completing errands in a mere fraction of the usual time (appearing only as a shiny flash of light, but of course obeying all local traffic laws). Many days, I'd prefer to be Mega Mediator Mom, who has the ability to stop any argument by freezing the opponents with an icy glare, and sweeping them to opposite sides of the room with a slight wave of her hand. This morning, however, my 5-year old son provided a solid reminder that sometimes wishes are best kept simple. In the process of getting dressed, he stood in just his little white briefs, chin in the air, chest outthrust, hands on hips, legs spread wide. With an enormous grin, he declared, "I'm Naked Man! With the power of...underwear! (You go save the world, little dude!)

Wednesday, December 17, 2008

Stay Tuned for the Comfort Inn "Nativity Bowl"

As many Christian families do at this time of year, we set out Nativity scenes for the celebration of Jesus' birthday. In our house, we have two sets (see photo). These have been designated the "real" nativity set (humans) and the "fake" nativity set (vegetables) by my sons. Each December I carefully arrange them on tables in the living room, where they remain for approximately 10 minutes, until one of the boys spots them and yells, "Oh look, our Jesus toys!" At this point, the Holy Land becomes quite the happening spot, with the two companies facing off against each other in some kind of fierce competition. Last year, it was Battle of the Bands. I believe the Veggie Tales rock-n-roll group won, narrowly edging out the Bethlehem Jazz Combo. But this year, it's all about football (that explains the plastic egg!). The Veggie squad lines up against team Bethlehem, and gridiron mayhem ensues. Since the boys can't remember what the Wise Men are called, Derek re-named the trio... Joe, Kevin, and Nick Jonas. So from the kitchen, I will sometimes hear spirited commentary such as: Camel breaks through the defenders, until he's taken down by Shepherd at the 10 yard line, for a gain of 3! Or my favorite: Mary drops back to pass, but she's tackled by Nick Jonas and fumbles at the 20! Looks like Joseph is going to have to punt, folks! Even if God's not a football fan, I pray he's laughing!

Thursday, December 11, 2008

What I DON'T miss...

In the interest of fairness, I suppose I should mention what I find less than desirable about summer:
--Moisture. Washington, having been built over a swamp oh-so-many years ago, boasts humidity of staggering proportions for part of the summer. When you step out the door, it feels like someone dropped a damp blanket on you from above. You can sense the beads of water forming on your skin. And that's just when you're standing perfectly still!
--Slimy sunscreen. Being Irish/German and pale, I must slather myself with strong ray-blocking goop whenever I venture out into the summer air. It gets tedious. Then I have to do the squirming, protesting children as well. It's an exciting morning ritual I can do without.
--Getting into my hot car. This is inevitably preceded by my driving around parking lots, scanning for any space that offers even sliver of shade (preferably on the driver's side). When the search is unsuccessful, I dread leaving the air-conditioned store to climb back into the traveling-Subaru-sauna.
--And finally, on a personal note: shaving my legs far too often for my taste. If I could learn just one measly magical spell, "Hairus disappearis" would be high on my list!

Tuesday, December 9, 2008

Counting down to the Solstice

Since it seems we're doomed to suffer an early winter here in the Washington D.C. area, and summer feels like it disappeared ages ago, I've found myself daydreaming fondly about what I miss from the warm months. For example:
--Casually throwing on one light layer of clothing (maybe a sweater I'm going someplace super air-conditioned) and breezing out the door. Contrast that with standing in front of the closet every morning, working up the nerve to whip off the fleecy pajama top and pile on long-sleeved athletic shirt, sweatshirt, and maybe a jacket over it...and that's just for indoors.
--Running and biking outside. Yes, it's sweaty business, exercising in the summer. But the muscles get warm and stretchy (rather than clenched to keep from shivering), the lungs easily absorb humid air (as opposed to dry, icy breaths), and the perspiration evaporates (instead of sticking around to chill you the instant you finish).
--Sunshine strong enough to warm your skin, accompanied by breezes that cool you off immediately when you step into the shade. What we are experiencing now is winter wind that slaps you in the face, making you involuntarily grit your teeth and duck your head, to shield yourself as much as possible from the blast.
--Strawberries...and grilled vegetables. Yes, I can make my husband stand outside and shiver while grilling in the dark, frigid months. But somehow what he brings in just doesn't have the same bright, crisp summer flavor. And canned fruit--let's just call it a necessary evil.
I could go on, but just thinking about this has made me cold. Off to make some hot tea... one of my few pleasures of winter!

Thursday, December 4, 2008

Young Love: Our Saga Begins

I feel fortunate that my boys, so far, have very open, chatty personalities. They haven't yet demonstrated the need for privacy, or hiding things, or telling me to mind my own business. That is, until the other night around dinner time when Derek sidled up to me and whispered, "I have a secret, Mommy." Of course I asked what it was. He looked mildly exasperated and said, "I can't tell you!" I could almost hear the implied "Duh!" However, my son has proven many times over that he is incapable of bottling anything up for any length of time, so I just smiled in what I hoped was a gentle, understanding, motherly kind of way, and let it pass. The very next morning, in a transparent attempt to be sneaky and mysterious, he began another conversation, detailing which girls in his class "liked" which boys, and who had a "boyfriend/girlfriend". Nonchalantly, I asked if he had a girlfriend. "Yes, I like Nancy," he replied soberly, "and Kara is supposed to tell her for me in math class today." I bit back my first comment, which was "you're in 3rd grade, can't you wait until at least middle school for this nonsense?" Instead I took a moment to be grateful that he feels comfortable talking to me...and I can only hope that all his future secrets are this easy to extract!

Tuesday, December 2, 2008

Young Love--a prelude

Last year, at the tender age of 7, my insulated, innocent little boy had his first brush with the terrifying World of Girls. As part of a literacy unit in school, everyone in the 2nd grade had written their own fairy tale, to be read aloud at an "Authors Conference" in May, in front of their parents, teachers, and classmates. As the big day approached, they practiced sharing their stories in their classrooms. One day Derek came home looking dejected. When I asked him what was wrong, he mumbled something about Missy and her fairy tale. Oh, dear. This was the same Missy who had made him a doily-covered, heart-shaped valentine in February, and signed it "all my love". So I was onto Missy, the 2nd grade trollop! I braced for something awful. Turns out she had been given permission not to read her story in front of people, after her test-run in class had been met with hooting, howling, and immature 7-year old boys rolling around on the floor in hysteria. What had she done to earn this critical review? She cast herself as a princess, with Derek being the brave and daring young prince who rescues her. According to Derek, they were both "embarrassed" by the incident. As I hugged him and soothed his bruised ego with a plate of cookies, I thought, "at least there was no kissing--narrative or otherwise!"