Lacing Cards

These are our new lacing cards, the entire reason we ended up in the parking lot this morning where we had The Incident. I know I've been writing about not needing so many toys lately, but I didn't really count these. Lacing and sewing is a wonderful fine motor skill to encourage, but I don't want to continue letting John unlace his shoes because then we are leaving the house, I go to the bin of shoes, and all of his shoes are unlaced! I don't exactly have time to sit there and relace them as we're trying to get out the door and John isn't good enough to do it quickly himself. Thus, some lacing cards.

But speaking of toys: I love multipurpose toys versus specific, single-use toys. Today John and I were building a farm with Duplo blocks. I suggested he get our bin of animal figurines to use in our barn and he said, "How about we pretend some blocks are animals instead?" Love it, love it, love it!

Update from my stinky morning: I almost succumbed to the day and ordered pizza take-out. But I decided that my self-worth could use a little boost by salvaging the day. After an afternoon of lazing about the house and playing with the children, I made a real dinner of homemade meatloaf (previously frozen uncooked, then cooked tonight), roasted sweet potatoes and beets, and homemade macaroni and cheese, all of which were delicious. I managed the children throughout without turning on the television. While I was cooking, I had both children happily setting the table for me and then cleaning up the den of toys (note: while I was cooking, meaning I was multitasking and I was able mostly to use my cheerful voice instead of physical presence to get the kids to help out!!!). And then I asked John to please surprise Daddy by trying a beet, which he did, just like he tried a slice of cucumber the night before. Two tiny bites of two vegetables, folks! (Yes, he gagged them out and almost threw up, but that is still major improvement.) And after dinner, we prayed the family (single decade of the) rosary and, with some new motivations for John, it actually went fairly pleasantly. It was such a nice ending to a day that started out so badly.

One of Those Days

It all began this morning . . . no, make that last night . . . no, scratch that, it all began last Wednesday! A cold has been running through our home since Wednesday night when Mary got it. I was sick as a dog on Sunday, such that I actually stayed in pajamas most of the day and Chris took care of the children. I've been recuperating since then, back to minimal functioning level but feeling pretty rotten.


Then Monday night, Mary woke up four times between 7:30 p.m. and 10:00 p.m., such that I realized it was going to be a bad night. I went to bed, already resentful that I couldn't delve into the sewing project I wanted to try because Mary kept waking up. Then I lay there with insomnia for a couple more hours. I got four whole hours of sleep (punctuated by Mary's regular wakings to nurse) before Mary inexplicably woke at 4:00 a.m. and stayed awake for two hours. I finally got her to sleep at 6:00, but there was at that point no way I could physically fall asleep, so I got up to enjoy some alone time.

At 6:09, John woke up for the day.


At 6:18, Mary woke up for the day.


So much for alone time. Mama was extremely grumpy this morning. Still suffering from the cold, tired from getting less than my normal not-so-luxurious six hours of broken sleep nightly. I got the bright idea that if I was going to be tired and grumpy, we'd do errands to "get us out of the house." A change of scenery would do us good, right?


I got the kids loaded up and Mary declined to do a potty check before we left. We went to the first store and bought lacing cards for John, as he's been unlacing all his shoes and trying to lace things with the laces for a week. We came out of the store and, before walking to the next store, I asked Mary if she wanted to do a potty check and she did! I keep a traveling potty in the van because sometimes that is easier to use with toddlers than navigating public bathrooms. So Mary did a potty check but nothing happened. Well, as long as we were in the van, I would drive us to the other end of the strip mall instead of walking.


We drove to the other end of the strip mall for our second errand. I got the kids all unloaded and we trooped into the store, at which point Mary announced urgently, "Potty!" Oh, now she had a feeling. Being in an unfamiliar store and being parked right outside, I judged it easier to use our travel potty, so I dashed us out to the van and got Mary seated, where she finally did her business. Meanwhile, I let John sit in the driver's seat as a big treat, while I was standing on the side of our van, the sliding door open, helping Mary.


And then John touched a button.


He pulled the lever that opens the gas tank door. As soon as I heard the click, I said, "What are you doing? You're touching buttons! What is the first Rule of Buttons?! Never touch a button if you don't know what it does!" The way the Honda Odyssey is designed, the gas tank door is behind the sliding door when the sliding door is open. And if the sliding door is open when the gas tank door opens, there is a "safety feature" that causes the sliding door to lock in place, open. And there is no way to override it once it happens.


So that means it is "safer" to be stuck God-only-knows-where (what if I'd been parked in gangland or something?) with the door open, unable to drive safely, rather than risk getting some scratches in the paint because I close the sliding door while the gas tank door is open. This design feature is profiled at a crudely but aptly named website about bad designs.


I tried to figure out how to get my arm into the two-inch thin crevice to close the gas tank door. My arm is not that skinny. It was only 9:30 a.m. but the heat was nearly 90 degrees, the Southern humidity probably nearly 100%, and the heat radiating off the black asphalt of the parking lot had me drenched in sweat.


After several minutes, I called Chris to ask for advice. Of course, he said I needed to Get Help. Now, my temperament combined with aspects of my childhood caused me to be Very Independent. I loathe asking for help. For example, most of the time I would rather forgo my recipe and change my meal plan rather than ask a grocery store employee where to find a particular food ingredient. So, Chris told me that I needed to take the kids into the nearby hardware store and ask a man for help and I might have replied something about how "I would rather die" and that I would figure it out myself.


I stood there another 20 minutes or so working on it. I had various children's books in the car, so I tried to slide them in and use them to close the gas tank door. One large, thin hardcover book seemed promising. I worked with it for a long time. Chris called me back and I answered, "I'm almost ready to give up and ask for help." He asked if I'd rather he leave work and drive to come help me. I decided that if I were going to be "humiliated" by needing help, I'd rather it be by my husband than a stranger at the hardware store, so I accepted.


At that point, I almost took the hardcover book out of the crevice, but decided to give up and sit there since Chris was on his way. I sat there and steamed. Poor John felt mortified throughout because every time he asked something innocent like, "Could we close the door so that no flies come in the van?" I'd answer sharply, "No! We can't! Because you touched a button that you didn't know what it did and you broke something and now we are stuck!" (Not one of my better mothering moments.)


Chris showed up 15 minutes later with a long metal stick. He peered into the crevice and said that the book was in the way, he couldn't see anything. I told him I'd left it there since he could shove it out with his long metal stick better than I could with my fatter-than-two-inch-wide arm. So he shoved it through and to the ground and peered again. He was confused and said the gas tank door seemed to be closed. What? I looked in and the gas tank door was now closed. The act of pushing the book through had closed the gas tank door, which had been my whole plan. Chris tugged on the sliding door, the safety feature was no longer locking it, so it closed with ease.

Thus proving my point that I Don't Need Help and that I Can Figure Everything Out, Thankyouverymuch.

[Husband's note: didn't I suggest the book idea on our first phone call?]

I was so grumpy, so I asked Chris if he could stay with the children for five minutes in the van so I could dash into that second store and get that one thing I came for. I ran inside and they don't even carry that one thing. So I came back out to find that John was asking if he could drive home in Daddy's car. I said, well, if I had only one child with me, then would it be okay if I drove to a fabric store to get that one item, which it would definitely carry? Chris said sure and drove John home.

I drove to the fabric store, hauled Mary inside, and discovered that the interfacing I was going to buy to make a duplicate of my pattern was actually so expensive (the cheapest being $2/ 20"-yard) that I could more easily buy a whole new pattern if I wanted one in the future. So I left the store without even buying the interfacing which had been my whole point for visiting the other store where Mary had to go potty, which is why we went back to the van where John pushed the button and got us stuck there, even though ultimately I Did Not Need Any Help!

Yeah, so, you can imagine my mood driving home.

I just thank God these are the little things in life. Today alone I have friends in Russia adopting a baby after a journey of much sorrow, another friend (mother of 11) in a custody battle after a horrific abandonment-divorce, another friend (mother of three) stuck in a complicated real estate situation, another friend (mother of six) battling bad cancer, my own mother bedridden with multiple sclerosis, and many other family members and friends carrying heavy crosses today, private and not private, too many to list here.

I am almost done throwing my pity party now. Thanks for coming.

Creativity

Look at all this creativity for which the children didn't really need toys!

John dressing up as St. Joseph using my Maya Wrap and the top of a Noah's Ark (as a shield or something). He did extensive monologuing as the Virgin Mary's spouse.

Lately John has been unlacing all of his shoes, then trying to relace them or use the laces elsewhere. He's also showing great interest in my little bit of sewing. This child needs some lacing cards.

I think you had to be there, but the children were being so sweet, pretending to be turtles.



Our decrepit, obese cat Missy gets no peace from the children (who adore her). I grabbed the video camera because previously Mary had been calling out extremely loudly, "Kitty! Kitty! Kitty!"




This morning the children were playing with an item from the Mass kit, which they began pretending was a microphone.

We Have Nobody in Diapers

Drum roll please, I am making the declaration . . .

Mary is potty trained at 19-1/2 months!

While we were in California she regressed a little, as I expected, so when we got back I took away her diapers and it took her two days to become reoriented. For the last week, she has been wearing cotton trainer underwear full-time, including when we go on errands, social visits, and during her naps and overnights. I was not going to put her in underwear overnight, but the first night I took off her new Big Girl Underwear and put her in a diaper, she became very upset and demanded I switch her back. She has stayed dry for all of her naps and six of eight overnights (although I think staying dry overnight is mainly a hormone thing rather than a result of training, which is why it is so variable among children). She has stayed dry while we do errands, including one morning I visited four stores in a row. She stayed dry when we visited two friends at their homes this week, and when I left her with a babysitter at a third friend's home: Mary didn't ask the babysitter to take her to the potty, but she did stay dry for four hours till I got back. She even stayed dry during a (wonderful!) three-hour visit of a family with eight children, during which time Mary was away from me, playing with the children, utterly engrossed in those activities.

Mary is averaging zero to one accidents per day (and yesterday had two). Her weak spot is that she gets her choleric self all ruffled if I suggest we do a "potty check." If she doesn't feel the need, she doesn't want me telling her what to do and then she won't go visit the bathroom. Early in the week, I was making her visit the bathroom about once an hour and she simply went on strike, she was so angry. It was an awful day and the next day I threw up my hands, thinking, 'Fine, girl, you just do this on your own.' Well, it turns out that she needs to visit the potty only every three hours or so, making my frequent potty checks really irritating! This still remains a weak spot, though, because I know if she needs to visit the potty proactively because we're about to play outside, go on an errand, or go for a car drive, but she wants to wait till she feels it--which means coming in from outdoors, setting aside our grocery cart to find a public restroom, or pulling over from driving. It's not the most convenient, but that is okay with me!

I did some searching online for what is a definition of being potty trained and I read interesting debates about it. Mary still needs my help with her clothing and washing her hands, and she still absolutely benefits from my suggesting she visit the potty upon waking and at other times. So some people would consider that not potty trained because she is not 100% independent. I think that definition is unfairly restrictive. My three-and-a-half-year-old still needs help getting certain pairs of his pants back on and I expect to be reminding him to visit the facilities before we leave the house for another year or two--so that would make him not fully potty trained either.

A few days ago, I saw a grocery cart full of diapers with a "50% Off" sign on it. Wow, I can stock up! I rushed over and then realized I still have a half pack of diapers at home and I don't need more anyway. So I ended up buying one pack for $5 to donate to our crisis pregnancy center's diaper drive. (I would have bought them all at that price, but the remainder were sizes five and six, which are for big preschoolers and not so much for the clientele babies at a crisis pregnancy center.)

Three cheers for our big girl!

Feast of St. John the Baptist

Today was the feast day of St. John the Baptist, one of our John's patron saints. I like to do something a little special on our family's patron saint days. This time in particular I did a little extra because John has been highly interested (one might say obsessed) with his fourth birthday party since he attended his cousin's sixth birthday party a few weeks ago. He keeps asking if his party is tomorrow, so then I explain again that his birthday is in the winter, when it is cold, and that is about a half a year away, which is A Long Time. And then John will ask, "Will it be snowing tomorrow?"

So today I dug into my party supplies, blew up some balloons, hung them around the kitchen with streamers, and wrapped our little gift for John.

He received a holy card of St. John the Baptist and a framed room blessing showing Mary with her Immaculate Heart, Jesus with his Sacred Heart, and a Guardian Angel. While it wasn't a snazzy toy, John did still say, "Wow! This is a wonderful gift!" Our boy is still unsullied!

Then I served ice cream and chocolate chip cookies (my friend Sarah's recipe, which contains things like bran, milled flaxseed, and whole wheat flour--this was the first time I tried using "white whole wheat"). We lit a candle and sang "Happy Feast Day To You." (The above expression was part of a genuine smile.)

I have been thinking of buying a plastic toddler slide of some sort, but tonight the kids made a slide out of a bookshelf and a little armchair.

R.I.P. Tomato Crop

Today we memorialize our entire crop of cherry tomatoes, picked in the green youth of life. May you rest in peace in a better place where one-year-olds don't get into the vegetable patch and pick every single tomato off the bush when Mother isn't looking. We will remember you fondly and know that you would have achieved red sweetness had your life not been plucked so early. (Stock photo from online.)

Why I Need To Get Rid of More of Our Toys

The children played beautifully in California for two weeks, virtually without toys. The only toys they used were some digging implements, sidewalk chalk, and two trucks. They have too many toys, in my opinion, and seem to use them to make messes too big for them to clean up at this age, while actually playing with non-toys.

Last night, letting them have my bag full of rubber bands kept them busy for an hour. They made "gates" on this overturned table. Earlier explanations of the danger of snapping rubber bands did not register for John, but last night he got to learn that little bit of physics from Real Life.

They climb things all the time, here pretending to ascend a mountain. I didn't get pictures of it, but yesterday John spent at least a half hour using some bed rails (used to keep a toddler from rolling out of bed, currently not installed on any of our beds) to be an imaginary "boat."

Collecting earthworms in the yard


Despite our owning several riding toys, the children spent this morning pulling each other around in a garden cart (that normally has a lid on it).

Mary Imitates

Mary has become the little mimicker of her big brother. It amazes me to see how she instantly starts imitating him, whether he's doing something admirable or rascally. The phenomenon drives home for me the point of how important it is to form one's firstborn because he or she will serve as an example for the younger children.

We use time-outs and started with John around 24 months old (not that I think I know the "right" time to start with any given child). We have not begun time-outs with Mary as of 19 months old. Last night John was serving a time-out for some naughtiness when Mary ran over and hit me with a toy hammer. I told her, "Ma'am, you may not hit Mama! This toy is going into time out." I placed the hammer up on a shelf. Mary let out a solitary scream of indignation . . . and then she marched herself right over to the time-out spot and stood facing the wall right next to her brother. So, I think she's starting to get the concept of what time out is from watching her big brother!

Bonus, short video of Mary dancing

Father's Day 2010

Happy Father's Day!

The children colored pictures of St. Joseph for Daddy and I bought Chris his long sought-after thin waffle maker (versus a Belgian waffle maker, which we already own but he doesn't prefer those waffles).

Our day was a bit of a comedy of errors, or perhaps just spontaneous. After Mass I had planned to cook us a special breakfast (using the new waffle maker), but we had plans for a family fun event that was slightly north of church, so it didn't make sense to drive all the way home. Therefore, we went to breakfast at our favorite brunch spot. Then we drove to the Charlotte Nature Museum for a special three-hour display of live farm animals, only to discover upon arriving at the empty parking lot that the event was yesterday and I had misread the newspaper announcement. John was so calm about the disappointment, especially in light of how we'd spent the whole drive there excitedly discussing what kind of farm animals we might see. Since the museum abutted Freedom Park, we walked around the park and the lake instead.

Chris and the children on the bridge while Mama's heart raced that one of the children would fall in

We came back to the house and Mary went down for her nap. Chris decided to take John to visit their first-ever "sprayground."

They had so much fun that they drove the 20 minutes back home and convinced me to come with them so Mary could join her brother in the fun. There were about 100 kids racing all over the sprayground! (I didn't take any wide group shots because I wanted to respect the privacy of other people's children in their bathing suits.)

John even brought his tricycle along!

For a special Father's Day dinner, I made pork chops, rice, and collard greens.

For dessert, I made apple pie (dear Rebecca's recipe!) for dessert and served it with ice cream and homemade whipped cream.

Potty Training Watch 2010: For those of you as gripped with excitement as I am (ha ha! nobody else could be) about Mary being almost done with potty training . . . she just completed her second 24-hour stretch of no accidents (the first time being in California)--even though today I hauled her to four public places! And the day before she had only two accidents. She loves her new trainers and now insists on wearing them, even when she sleeps.

First Vegetable Harvest

We harvested our first vegetables! The cherry tomato was ripe. I'm not sure if the yellow sweet pepper was ripe and we were not going to pick it, but Mary picked it when I turned my back, and there's no gluing a vegetable back on a plant! (We also have one red raspberry and plenty of basil ready to pick.)

We made a salad, with John doing all the cutting himself. Unfortunately, his enthusiastic involvement ended there and he let the rest of the family sample our crop.

But in bright moments, John has tried quite a few new foods this week! I discovered the allure of the bulk bins for my three-year-old! He was so interested in all the bins, I asked randomly if he wanted to try a walnut and, if he liked it, I'd buy some. He tried one and he did like it. I bought some and he ate them on the drive home! Walnuts!!! He also chose (and begged for) red quinoa. I had less hopes for that one, but went through the motions anyway. I was very pleased that he tried two whole bites before declaring that he didn't like it--and he didn't throw up. It had a chewy texture and nutty flavor, so I suspected he wouldn't eat it. Then the next night, I made burritos for the rest of us, assuming John would eat only the accompanying white rice. But I went out on a limb and smashed up and thinned some pinto beans to make my own "refried" beans. Then I tried a new tactic of pushy cheerfulness with John instead of force. To our joy, John was able to be coaxed to go back and forth between one giant bite of rice and one tiny bite of beans. He ate probably 10 bites of beans--admittedly totalling only about one teaspoon. Still, my child ate beans! A wet food!

What Am I In For?

Anyone who has spent time with Mary remarks on what a climber she is, seemingly fearless, very physically adept, and when she gets hurt she doesn't often cry or cry much. I just don't know what I'm in for! Last night we were in the den and I watched for long minutes while Mary entertained herself by (1) standing on the sofa-chair and leaping to the ground below (18"?), landing purposefully on her bottom on the floor and (2) doing somersaults starting on the sofa-chair so she'd have an extra far way to fall (to the floor below) because a regular somersault must not be exciting enough.

The Digging Spot

The children spent many hours per day playing in their California grandparents' nearly indestructible back yard and I saw how good that was for him. We bought this house and it came with a professionally landscaped back yard, which is beautiful, but means that it also has many delicate spots and opportunities for me to shout, "Don't touch that! Don't move that pine straw, don't move those cedar chips! Don't hurt that plant, it's expensive!" Upon coming home, I decided to make the children their own Digging Spot.

Before: One bare patch

After! I raked away the old pine straw, dug a shallow pit, and filled it with play sand. I took two large pots we were not using: One I filled with dirt for more digging and one I filled with the kids' various digging implements so they'll be available "on site" instead of in the toy basket in the sun room.

I also dragged rocks and old bricks over to the site, having found them scattered all over the yard. These materials are good for building things. We're worried about North Carolina biting ants promptly taking up residence in this new soft dirt and sand, so we'll keep our eyes out for that.

A castle in progress. Normally John approaches me to interact during back yard time so often that I can't read more than a paragraph at a time, but this time he spent nearly an hour quietly building a castle--not bugging anyone, not poking his sister, not getting into trouble.

Bonus picture: The children were playing oh-so quietly in John's room, so I peeked my head in to find them leaning back to back, each reading a book.

California Day 14

On Wednesday we travelled home. (You can see me, wearing Mary, in the window's reflection.) I don't know what I'd do without a helper, as Neil dropped off me and the children with some luggage, parked the car, brought the rest of the luggage, and we ferried it in to be checked.

After checking our luggage, we were quite early, so we waited downstairs with Neil for a while.

Above is a (mis)representative moment of the children being peaceful and sweet for a moment on the plane ride. Now, several fellow travelers on both legs of the flight approached me to say how well the children had behaved, so I suppose they're not in conspiracy to lie to me. However, it took a tremendous amount of parent work and the moment above was the only moment the children were actually sitting on their bottoms, in their seats, quietly entertaining themselves. Many parents know better than me how to travel with littles, but I'll share a couple of ideas for my friends who have been asking for them. When John was repeatedly misbehaving with his hands on the flight, I (repeatedly) put his hands into time-out. I gripped his hands together and told him he needed to give me a good, quiet, hand time-out (instead of struggling and shouting) before I'd let go. Then I'd count while he was quiet and then I'd let go. I also put him into a "hug time out" once, which was something I saw Chris invent. It's not meant to be fuzzy wuzzy, but it particularly works when John needs resettling from being rambunctious. Where else could I send him while on the plane? I brought him onto my lap, hugged him, and would not let go. He's not a snuggly boy, so this is a punishment. I told him I wouldn't let go while he kept fighting me and protesting, that he had to be quiet for a while, so finally he was.

We played every game imaginable to us (and I was so grateful that John is three now and I can actually play word games with him). This time I knew not to bother bringing the electronic gizmo I had bought (out of character) for travel as it made noise, caused sibling fights, and still didn't entertain them. Next time I think I might not even carry books on the flight because they didn't want me to read to them either. Instead, we played I Spy, What's That Sound? (make a sound, like 'hee-haw' and other person guesses 'donkey'), and Mary's newly invented game of Stop! in which I sing and Mary calls out 'stop!' I then stop singing mid-word with a shocked look on my face until she signs MUSIC again. Hilarity abounds. Other things the kids did were climb all over the seats and floor and I was incredibly grateful for lenient flight attendants instead of the ones who come by every few minutes to say that the children must be buckled and on their bottoms. Plying the kids with frequent snacks helped break up the boredom. I remember my friend Sarah commenting after a flight with four children (newborn to four) at how Mama making silly faces provided lengthy entertainment--and she was right!

The children napped only once. As we started our second leg, it was their normal nap time and I saw they were revving up into chaos. I told John that after we got into the air, it was going to be nap time. What was astonishing was that when I announced the time was here, John simply curled up in a ball, closed his eyes, and went to sleep without lifting his head once (while I then nursed Mary to sleep). I got one blissful hour of them sleeping, during which time the snack tray came by and I was able to buy some food, and I even read some of my book. I was grateful every moment, knowing it could end (and it did).

Last time I posted about travel, I received many questions about bathroom facilities, so this time I'll just oblige my readers. During our layover (25 minutes on the ground, only enough time for a bathroom visit, no time for lunch = Mama very hungry), I sought out a custodian to find a family bathroom and was thrilled with where he led me. The family bathroom in Phoenix is probably 150 square feet! It contained a full leather bench, handicapped accessible facilities, a shower (not that we used it) and room for my two littles two wander around the room, stretching their legs. Unfortunately, three times on the flights, we had to use the airplane facilities! On the first leg, Mary had just fallen asleep in my arms when John needed me to escort him, and she was jostled awake during the procedure: I apologized to our seat mate for the loss of blissful baby silence. Then on the second leg, first Mary demanded to be taken to the facilities (and refused to use her diaper, thankyouverymuch), so I took her and left John with our very kindly seatmate. (Also the bathroom was literally the wall behind our seats, so I felt more comfortable.) Apparently John talked the gentleman's ear off, telling him all about the safari, how John sings songs (and did a little performance), how he has a Big Boy Wrist Watch, and so forth. Later, John needed escorting again and I didn't feel comfortable leaving Mary, so that's when I learned that all three of us do fit in an airplane bathroom, even when I'm not wearing the baby in my Ergo.

One sad moment in Phoenix: Upon coming in for landing, John kept remarking on the city he was seeing and said, "I want to walk around when we get there." I said sure, he could walk around a little, thinking he meant in the airport. Well, we had that rushed 25-minute layover and as I was unbuckling him from the stroller to gate-check it, John grabbed the straps so as not to be released and said very quietly, with lip trembling, "You said I could walk around the city." Oh, poor sweet boy! I explained that I never meant the city, we had another plane to catch, I was so sorry. Then his crestfallen acceptance made me feel even worse.

When Chris picked us up at home, John hugged him, like this, head on shoulder, for probably 20 minutes. When I sunk myself into our van, with Chris to drive us home, I remarked, "Now marks the moment when I no longer have to be in charge all the time." What a relief!

We arrived home to new pine straw and wood chips in the yard, a freshly cleaned house, stocked groceries, a huge bouquet of fragrant lilies, and two gourmet chocolate bars. We are glad to be here!

California Day 13

Today was my last day in California. We met my junior high school friend Rachel (and her three-year-old) for coffee and pastries, then stopped by the grocery store for traveling-back-home snacks. You know how they leave you hungry on airplanes these days. During afternoon nap time, I packed our luggage. I had the kids run off some energy in the back yard (another ant castle was created) and then we met Grandpa for dinner at a great Greek restaurant. More energy was expended on a walk with Grampa Neil and visit to the park, and now the kids are blessedly asleep.

Photos of the kids climbing up to visit Gramma during her dinner time

How precious is that smile?

I look forward to being at my own home sweet home and with my own sweet husband by tomorrow night, God willing.

California Day 12

This morning we met Grandpa for breakfast at Cindy's diner. Yes, John is "smiling" in the above photo. Maybe his weird expression is because a plant is growing out of his head.

John got to have a little mint after breakfast and Mary was spying on him, wondering what treat he had that she didn't.

Later in the morning, we had our annual Prima Ladies Meet-Up. Several of us former editors from Prima/Random House get together: today three of the four of us were available, so we met at a playground with our children. Above, the kids were admiring the F--- boys' bug jar.

John still quite dislikes swinging and won't do it, but sometimes he'll swing on his tummy like he is flying.

John repeatedly scampered up and down this tall twisty ladder (including then reaching out and stepping onto the platform), showing a distinct loss of his caution about heights.

Two redheads

Mary, John, and Emma

Missing from the photo are other mom-friend Rebecca and Janeane's daughter Emma.

After the kids' nap time, I was gripped by the awareness of my fast-ending vacation time, so Grampa Neil and I took them to Baskin-Robbins ice cream parlor for no good reason in the late afternoon right before dinner time. So there!

My boy is graduating to cones instead of cups!

California Day 11

Today began with Mass at my beloved home parish. I am very grateful for last Sunday when I actually managed to be able to be inside the church for all of Mass, managing both children alone. Because at every other Mass on these visits, including today, I have spent the hour sitting on a bench in the hallway with the children (where the sound is not piped in, unfortunately) rather than in the near-silent Mass in the church without a cry room.

We came home and visited the fourth park within walking distance. Two kids on one end of a see-saw!

Aunt Stella pushing Mary (who almost fell asleep) on the swings

The disembodied hand coming between the children is Aunt Stella reaching through to make them laugh.

After lunch and naps (during which time Stella left to fly home), we trooped to the back yard for snack time and more playing. When I get home, I am seriously considering stocking our back yard with building supplies (bricks, big and little rocks, shells) because such things have kept them so very occupied here! You should see the things they build!

Tonight I introduced the children to IT'S-IT ice cream sandwiches, which are, sadly, only available West of the Rockies. It was a momentous occasion.

The kids loved them. I've rarely seen John eat anything so neatly. Now I have three reasons (me, John, Mary) someday to spend $86 to have a case of ice cream shipped across the country to us. And if Chris would become a devotee of these treats, then I'd have four reasons . . .

Random story from today: Mary invented a new game. She often signs MUSIC (a sign she invented) to ask me to sing. Today she would sign MUSIC, I'd start singing a song, then she'd interrupt me by saying "stop!" I'd stop singing immediately and she'd break into peals of laughter at her own ability to "control" me. Then she'd sign MUSIC again and we'd start all over. Start, stop!, laugh, start, stop!, laugh . . . . The game had me and John gripped with laughter too. So cute.