Flea boy

I think that I may have won some sort of a bad parent prize. Joseph's kindergarten class is studying insects this week and I sent him to school with a live flea in a ziplock snack bag. I don't know--I was petting the dog as I was getting Joseph ready for school and one thing led to another.

Joseph is 5!

Joseph's birthday was yesterday! We had the party at the Children's Discovery Museum, which happens to be just a few blocks from our house in Uptown Normal. The kids LOVE the museum, and the museum has birthday packages including cake and pizza, so it seemed like a great place to have the party. The museum coordinator told Danny that the birthday package included games and activities, as well as access to the regular museum areas. I was delighted to not have to do anything but show up and pay!
However, when we got there, the "birthday helper" asked us if we brought decorations and games, and then led us into a completely empty room with tables and chairs, and told us that we would be in the EMPTY room for an HOUR for games, food, presents, etc., and then we could go out into the museum. I asked about the games, activities and decorations, and she produced a roll of paper and a box of markers and NOTHING MORE. I had a room full of kids and parents who were expecting a party and NO ENTERTAINMENT WHATSOEVER. I was VERY NOT AMUSED. Had I known that this would happen, I easily could have brought all of these things (or had the cake and pizza at home beforehand), but it was too late. I made up a pictionary game with the markers and paper to keep them busy, fed them the food, opened presents and then got the hell out of that room into the museum. The kids had a great time, though. Sam brought his friend Katana from TaeKwonDo, and the two of them seemed to have lots of fun, too.

Hooray! Another Bionicle!

As we were about to escape from the room of doom, someone from the museum brought in a poster birthday card for the kids to sign.

Building a castle for King Joseph

The dancing room

The bad farm animals try to blockade the train.

I went into the climbing structure to help some stuck kids. Believe me, it was a tight squeeze.

The only group picture that I could get was this one of the kids waiting for the elevator. As you might notice, Joseph is a little impatient to get to the next floor.

Pedal power

Grandma Dorinda gave Joseph (and Sam) bikes for Joseph's birthday. Joseph was delighted to pick out a Spiderman bike with training wheels and a spider helmet. Joseph is a moody biker: he veers between ecstatically giggling as he speeds down the sidewalk to sulking and refusing to move because he feels that the bike has slighted him in some way.

Happy biker:

Angry biker:


Sam has been struggling to ride a bike for YEARS. In the past, Sam had a pretty negative attitude about his bike, and leaned heavily on Danny without really ever learning to balance for himself. Danny and I frequently argue about this. Danny has been holding Sam upright on his bike for over a year since Sam decided that training wheels were baby-ish while I run alongside yelling "Let go of the damn bike already!"

However, now that Sam has a new bike that fits him (and a cool skull helmet) Sam has finally started to learn to balance himself and ride around a bit. Now he just needs to learn how to start himself without help, and to stop with his breaks, not by aiming for a grassy spot and crashing.

Go Sam go!


Joseph on his first bike!

He's a speedy little fellow!

Sam rides alone and Joseph has a special bonus birthday tantrum.

Sam riding on the quad (and a happier Joseph.)

Tantrums and fireflies

This morning we went to the Farmer's Market to buy cheese, bread and organic popcorn. We didn't stay long, though. Joseph was committed to a day-long tantrum entitled: "I hate this day!!" Given that I have no power to bend the laws of space and time, we just had to ride it out. I suspect that Joseph is just having a hard time waiting for his birthday.
Update: the final tantrum occurred just before midnight. Joseph woke up because of urgent digestive needs that he was unwilling to address during the day. Note to self: when building dream house, don't forget the high capacity toilet.

Joseph's tantrum at the Farmer's Market.


We have been bringing Argos to the Bloomington Farmer's Market to help him get over his city-related phobias (gratings, buses, motorcycles, etc). Argos had a GREAT time at the Farmer's Market today: the cheese guy was getting rid of his excess samples of cheese curds, so Argos got to eat a half-bag of the squeeky little treats. He also got lots of loving.


Today we saw fireflies! There are no fireflies in Riverside. Although we go to Baltimore and New York in the summer, we rarely go early enough in the season to see fireflies. I had kind of forgotten about fireflies, so when I saw them for the first time in Normal, I was charmed. The kids had a great time chasing them around the yard.

OMG

Joseph had his Spring Program tonight. I fear that it was the first (but likely not the last) time that Danny and I embarrassed him publicly. Joseph was very excited to perform, but when all eyes turned to him, he unconsciously busted out in a series of socially inappropriate behaviors: picking his nose, checking out his crotch, itching his stomach, then sticking his arm into his shirt to scratch his armpit.

Eventually, Danny and I were sobbing with laughter and we literally has tears running down our cheeks. All of the other parents and kids were staring at us, but, unfortunately, it was unstoppable.

Here's Joseph presenting his imaginary animal. The big laugh from the crowd is because Joseph seemed so crestfallen when he was told that there was not enough time for everyone to be a tigrant, too.

After Joseph was done with his presentation he visibly wet his pants. I had to snag him out of the line-up to change his pants. Clearly, Joseph is rather old for potty accidents, however, he was not at all perturbed. The J-man is so confident in himself that he does not care at all that he peed himself in front of a classroom full of his peers and their families. People spend a lifetime in therapy for that kind of self-confidence.

Happy Mothra Day

We all had a lovely mother's day. We stayed out very late at a graduation party last night (the kids, too, oddly enough) and I was a little under the weather (hung over and/or old) when the kids got up at 7 am to practice their robot walks in the hallway.

Sam playing bags at the party.


Sam made some great Mother's Day cards for me.

Danny bought me flowers and the traditional Mother's Day gift of a replacement laptop battery.

Joseph potted flowers for me at school and lovingly inscribed the flower pot. Danny and the kids went out and bought delicious pastries for breakfast.

We did a little shopping at Target, after which, Joseph had the following tantrum:


Afterwards, we drove to Peoria to see Forbidden Kingdom with Jackie Chan and Jet Li.
I had been looking forward to seeing Jackie Chan and Jet Li together. It was a pretty good movie. I had hoped for more 80's Jackie Chan, with clever stunts, but this was kind of a weak combination of Crouching Tiger Hidden Dragon flying (without the lovely cinematography) and a classic martial arts fable. There were some parts that I thought were too violent for Joseph. Sam enjoyed it, and Joseph especially liked the Monkey King.

For dinner we went to Medici. The food was quite good (especially for Normal), and the ambiance is exceptional. All of the tables, booths and railings etc are custom hand-crafted out of unusual wood. The fixtures and railings are all custom or hand-made by elves or something. The kids were very good, and we went to Emack and Bolio's for some ice cream/sorbet.

Here are some of the cards that the kids drew for their Grandmothers ("GramoMoetr," "GramoDrenda" and "GramE). The theme was animal mothers.
FYI: The interpretive arrows tell you the "wotr" (water) from the "grod" (ground)

The beginning of the end

This weekend Joseph was invited to two consecutive Chuck E. Cheese birthday parties. Although it is heartening that Joseph is so popular, four hours of animatronic pizza hell is a lot to ask of a kid (or a parent). Danny volunteered to go with Joseph so that I could spend some time alone with Sam. Although I spend quite a bit of time alone with Joseph, Sam and I have fewer interests in common.

Ever since Sam was born, I have been anticipating with dread the day that he would become a tweenager and start hating my guts. I have tried to imagine the various ways that this could come about: Sam as a pre-pubescent emo sk8erboi (dyed black hair and eyeliner) "Mom, you are so embarrassing!" Sam as a dweeby gamer (pear-shaped with pimples) "Mom, get out of my room!" Sam as a aggro musclehead jock (fireplug with a buzz cut) "Mom, can you not come to my game?"

So, this weekend, Sam and I went to the ISU Bowling and Billiards Center. It was kind of a disaster--at every game, he got competitive with me, and then got pissed off when he didn't win. I kept emphasizing that we were a team and I was not competing with him, and I tried to help him to do better. But everything that I tried to do to diffuse his competitiveness just made him madder.
First Sam got mad at me for doing better at "Medieval Madness" pinball than he did. (Seriously, I went first--how was I supposed to know how well to play!) Then he got mad because he kept crashing his car in some street racing game. He got flaming mad at me playing billiards. We finally got around to bowling, and he blew up because he scored a 45 (a great score for a kid!!!) and I scored a 91. (What made this all even more depressing was that in the next lane was a mother with a son about the same age as Sam. They had their own bowling shoes, and were having a splendid mother-son day, complimenting each others' techniques, etc.)

I mentioned my conflict with Sam to an older friend of mine, and she had some rather depressing insight. She told me that her father was always trying to teach her sports, and she was always competing with him and storming off because she wasn't as good as he was. No matter how helpful he tried to be, it just pissed her off more and made her more competitive. I asked her (hopefully) if she ended up with an appreciation for any of these sports as an adult, and she told me that, no, she still hated all of the sports that her father taught her. Crap.

Aaaaaargh

Five minutes ago I was in the bedroom rating grant proposals, and I hear Joseph say to Sam in his wee little piping voice: "Put your sperm on me!" Clearly, I could not have heard what I thought that I heard, so I slip over to the doorway, and I hear it again: "Sam, you have to put your sperm on my eggs!" I peek around the corner, and see that both kids are huddled under the covers doing I have no idea what. I ask them what they are doing and Joseph tells me that they are both chickens and they are fertilizing the eggs so that they can have baby chicks. Both of them seem to be fully clothed and not actually making any kind of bodily contact. It would appear that this was a purely innocent re-enactment of the chicken life cycle depicted in one of their books. I am rarely at a loss for words, but I have no idea how to react to this. It did not violate the family rules about nudity, obscenity or keeping one's privates to oneself. It just skeeved me out. Aaaaaarggh!

Many questions

Today Joseph has been uncharacteristically full of questions, including:

How does the oven make things hot?
How does the sound come out of the radio?
What does gas [gasoline] look like? What color is it? What does it smell like?
How does gas get into the pump?
Why does the car need gas?
What is energy?
Do we need energy?
What do plants do?
Why do we eat plants?
How do magnets work?

Danny and I are all worn out from explaining convection, radio transmission, internal combustion, photosynthesis, cellular metabolism, and magnetism. It is hard enough to provide satisfactory explanations of all this stuff to Sam, but reducing everything to preschool level is especially challenging. Answers have to be brief (less than 60 seconds) and fully descriptive without reference to unknown concepts or vocabulary. I think that the most unnerving part is how rapt Joseph is when we give him our answers. He is actually completely focussed--you can almost see the gears turning in his head. It is rather like some kind of high-stakes game show for parents: "60 Seconds of Science: Can you avoid mangling your kid's understanding of basic scientific principles?"

Happy Casimir Pulaski Day

This is the last straw: for the last two weeks, one kid and then the other has had a day off from school because of a teacher work day, and Monday, BOTH kids have the day off for Casimir Pulaski Day. Who the hell is Casimir Pulaski? When I asked that of Joseph's teacher, she was shocked at my ignorance of important Polish war heroes. According to Wikipedia, Pulaski was a Revolutionary War hero known for his contributions to the US military for training its soldiers and cavalry.
I don't know how people with kids are supposed to get any work done. I have noticed that "day care" is a dirty word around here, and even people who use it pretend that it is some kind of special educational/social enrichment. Clearly, there is supposed to be a mother quietly sitting at the kitchen table with crossed hands waiting for these random days off to take care of the kids. If Danny didn't work at home, we would be in pretty bad trouble. However, all these days off make it hard for Danny to work, and he has to work nights and/or weekends to get everything done.

Waterworks

I was getting ready for dinner in the basement and I heard a gush of water behind me. Apparently, after the kids finished their bath, the bathtub upstairs started leaking into the floor, and the water was pouring through the recessed light fixture directly onto our bed. I quickly turned off the overhead lights, however, every person who came downstairs to see the leak paused to turn on the lights, so that they could see better. Luckily, no one was electrocuted, and the leak was repaired. However, the boys had to take a bath in a Rubbermaid tub.

The Christmas poo

Our trip has been made more difficult due to Joseph's recent digestive problems. He is known for his bowel movements of unusually large size (both length and girth), however, he has not had a bowel movement since we left Normal. We have started giving him oral laxatives, which have caused all sorts of messy side effects. As we are traveling with only 6 pairs of underwear per person, I have been continuously running the washing machine with the same few pairs of underwear (and lots of bleach).
Today we visited one of Danny's relatives (his brother's baby mama, also a distant cousin), and a miracle occurred: Joseph was visited by the Christmas poo. This event was not only a big deal for us--it also broke the toilet. Three wise men tried their luck at fixing the afflicted toilet but were unable to unblock it. A plumber will be called after the holiday.

Lost

Saturday, Joseph and I were watching a nature documentary about caribou. One of the calves was separated from its mother and died of starvation. Joseph got interested in why and how the calf got lost. After we sorted that through, I asked him, "What would you do if you got lost?" "Die." he told me in a very matter-of-fact way. I had to explain to him that he would not die, and help him remember who he should talk to if he got lost, etc. Apparently, since the last time that we had this chat, he claims to have forgotten both the full names of his parents and his address. After I reminded him of these important pieces of information, I quizzed him and he GOT MY NAME WRONG. Inexplicably, he told me that my last name was GERSHWIN. After a lifetime of strangers mispronouncing my name, this was like a DAGGER TO THE HEART. And he surely does not know the composer, so where did he get this from?
This blows my theory that the reason that people mispronounce my name is that they know exactly one person with a somewhat similar name (Gershwin, Gresham, Hirshman), and assume that I have the same name.

Rotten kid

Less rotten when sleeping