If it ain't broke...

I called the university-affiliated, super-sexy preschool today and told them thanks for offering my kid a place in your program. But no, we won't be taking that spot.

To arrive at our decision, Daddy and I did a lot of soul searching yesterday and today, replete with a pro/con list and a cost-benefit analysis. I have to say I was greatly influenced by uber-Grandma Yvette, who left comments on my Facebook profile to the tune of "Is Isaac unhappy? Are you unhappy?" Well........ no and no. So why would we leave again?

Aside from the cost and the staff, there are incalculable benefits that result from staying put in our little preschool.

1) The schedule at the new preschool would have radically altered our lives. Isaac would have to go M-Th for nearly three hours in the afternoon, as opposed to our current schedule of three days a week in the mornings. The afternoon schedule would probably be okay on Isaac -- he would probably prefer to go without a nap and does fine without one, but he does still take one most days of the week. But poor Jake would get no more alone time with Mommy, because school time from Isaac would mean naptime for him. That doesn't seem fair to me.

2) Daddy and I have steeped ourselves in university culture for years now, with the consequence of never making a serious attempt to put down roots anywhere because we knew our status as professional students would probably keep us moving. But now that my oldest kid is approaching school age and my husband approaching tenure, Daddy and I agree that it's so important to look outside the U and into our own neighborhood. With our preschool, we get the community cred and townie influence that we feel is missing from our lives.

3) The set-up of our school lends itself to the building of a tight-knit parental community. Most people live close, so almost all the parents get there early to pick up their kid. The school is small enough that we all wait in one of their activity rooms for the kids to finish. Most parents are there together for at least 5, if not 10, minutes. We are all talky, asking each other questions, sharing tips about what's up on the weekends. EVERYBODY is in everyone else's business. I'm sure other preschools are like this, but at the U preschool, they make parents park in a fire lane and hustle them in and out to pick up their kids. How well can you get to know anyone in a situation like that?

Of course the best argument for staying is that Isaac loves it and we have always been happy to recommend the school to everyone we know. We did seriously consider leaving for the sexy preschool, because it would certainly intellectually challenge our bright young man in many ways. Not that he's unchallenged in his current school. But I'm not sure, for him, that preschool needs to be all about that kind of challenge.

Happy Birthday, Dadaw!

We called and sang to Dadaw, and Isaac told him all about "I" week. Today was show and tell and Isaac brought ... himself! To much fanfare. One of his new classmates told her mom before class this week how excited she was that it was "I" week, because "Isaac starts with 'I'!" Naturally, a cause for celebration.

Isaac is named after Dadaw's Dadaw, Isaac. Isaac, his son Raymond, Dadaw, and our Daddy ... they all look exactly alike. Perhaps my boys are fated to turn out to look just like their paternal grandpa, who still at 63 gets complimented on how cute he is by all the ladies at his church. Should we all be so lucky.

We love you, Dadaw!

The economics of preschool

This morning my whole day got ruined by some nice lady named Teresa, who called my house from a highly selective preschool. This particular preschool is affiliated with the university, and we signed up both our children years ago, just knowing they would never get in. Anyway, today this ho-bag called to tell me that they had a spot for Isaac in their 4s class, would we like to take it?

UGH.

Over the course of the day I called to tell Daddy, we took a tour of the school, and I made a pro/con list. This school, it is all pros and all cons, all at once. Nothing is simple. And in the space of one day, we must decide -- should we leave our school, which we love, for this fabled and awesome school that only a few people get in and costs a lot of money?

Let me tell you a bit about this new school. It is a teaching school. The reason they are so selective has nothing to do with your kid as a person and everything to do with statistics. Their classes must be half boys and girls, half University kids and half townie kids, and with birthdays evenly spread throughout the year. This is done for research purposes. They also use the school both as a model classroom to show early learning students at the U how they should do things, because the teachers are just that awesome. Seriously. There are news articles about how they win state-wide teaching awards. They have 1 head teacher, a different lady per "grade",who is a professor of early childhood education. One year-long appointed assistant teacher helps her out. Also, 2, sometimes 3, student teachers help out at a time in the classroom. These student teachers rotate out of the classroom every 9 weeks. So, great teachers, two always there, but lots of strange faces.

And did I mention the one-way mirrors? They have rooms where you as a parent, or as a student of a class, can sit and observe the kids. The students are there for learning purposes, of course, to observe how these awesome teachers interact with the kids. But still, a bit creepy to me to think that strangers you've never met might be staring down your kid during the day.

Extreme pluses for this new school, aside from the chronicled awesomeness of the teachers, are as follows. They also, oddly, contain their own minuses:
1) It is literally across the street from Daddy's office. Daddy could pretty much see Isaac on their playground from his window if he wanted to. And next year they are moving to a different building off campus, away from Daddy's watchful eye.
2) Their playground? It is huge and unbelievable. They have trikes and a mini safety town for the kids to ride in. They have a garden. A lookout tower, even. Climbable trees. Will they have the same scene next year? Who knows.
3) They have kindergarten, and though it is full-day, it is very low-key and sensitive to each kid, thanks to a low teacher-to-student ratio. Their kindergarten takes advantage of university professors, who show up to give demonstrations and teach the kids about music and science and what have you. Kindergarten, though, is where it stops. After that, Isaac will probably go to 1st grade in public school, with kids who were all best buds in kindergarten last year, leaving him the odd man out.
4) They take field trips, which our school does not. I will probably have to transport him for these, and need a sitter for Jake in the meantime.
5) Once Isaac is in, Jake is almost (though a big almost) guaranteed a place in their 3s program next year, so they would be at the same school. I say "almost" because they reserve the right to keep their almighty sex and age quotas a priority over sibling enrollment.

The biggest minus is the cost. It's not necessarily significant for this year, though it is nearly twice as much as the pittance we pay for Isaac's preschool now. But next year, tuition for him to attend their full-time kindergarten, plus Jacob attending the 3s class, would be enough for us to almost rule out buying a new car, which we may need by then.

So, being the chintzy person I am, I have to do a cost-benefit analysis. Do we dislike our school enough that it's worth it to switch? That question makes it all seem very dumb, because we love our current school. I feel like Isaac is just now beginning to blossom, to really enjoy what school is all about, to socialize with all the kids, perhaps because he's known the setting and the people for over a year now.

However, I have actually wondered about switching Isaac to a different preschool lately because I've found out a few things about families from our school, two in particular, that I didn't like. Nothing that would ever affect Isaac's safety at school, more along the lines of a glaring beacon that our school's delectable pricing beckons trailer trash. Also? Isaac doesn't seem to really hit it off, in more than a casual way, with any of the kids from his school, except for a boy from one of the aforementioned unsavory families, and a really nice girl that lives in our neighborhood, who we would hang out with regardless of where he went to school. I don't mean to be elitist in any way, just practical, but -- I know we go to the cheapest preschool in town, and so I know that the low low price tag may carry some consequences with it. As a friend told me today, again, in a non-elitist way, sometimes you don't mind paying a little extra to get rid of certain kinds of distractions.

Really, though, those things don't bother me that much, because I feel that Isaac is perfectly safe at his school. I couldn't ask for better guardians than Ms. Susie and Ms. Barbara. I am continuously enthused about their curriculum, this simple but ridiculously fun and effective letter-of-the-week thing. It provides easy continuity, routine, and many opportunities for parental involvement. Isaac has learned so, so much from them about reading and writing. That being said, he is a bright kid and I know that he is not terribly intellectually challenged by his preschool, but I entered into this game in the mindset that preschool, for my Isaac, was not about pushing him to do math flashcards. It was about getting him ready socially and emotionally for the routines and expectations of real school. Last year his social and emotional hurdles were rather great. I can't imagine trying to put any pressures to perform on top of that. This year, he is like a gorgeous, showy flower that has opened up under the tender, watchful gardening of Mses. Susie and Barbara -- singing, dancing, pushing me out the door, leading dinosaur awareness workshops. It is a beautiful thing. Would he be as gorgeous and showy in another garden? Who can know that.

I did ask Isaac what he thought about switching schools, and he was totally cool with it. But those are my kids -- for the most part they are very much go with the flow. So here I am. And we have to decide by tomorrow, in part because the new preschool takes school pictures on Monday. I return to my initial statement -- UGH.

Where did the week go again?

Sigh. I'm sure we did a few things. Let me try to debrief the highlights of what I remember.

*Tuesday we went to the orchard with Isaac's future wife Ella. It was beautiful, relaxing, and fun. We especially enjoyed feeding the goats with apples that had been sullied by the ground. Oh, and a yellow jacket stung me on the tongue when I tried to eat him. I guess that was not fun, but it was also not a horribly big deal.

*Jake pooped yesterday, partially willingly. Truly, this is a highlight for the week, and possibly the month. As he was trying to squeeze the poop into his underpants, he admitted to me that he did actually need to go and voluntarily sat on the toilet to do the job. He was not too fussy afterwards and declared his toilet offering to most resemble a snake.

*Jake and I did storytime on Wednesday. It was about shapes. We glued stuff and talked about shapes on the Delaware flag, which was fun. I like very much that Jake has something to help him keep up with Preschooler Isaac on the craft business, because of all the things I try to be as a mom, I know my limits and throw my hands up when confronted with craftdom.

*This week is "I" week at preschool. "I" mostly for insect, but perhaps more importantly, for Isaac. Ms. Barbara gave him the go-ahead that he could bring himself for show and tell.

*Daddy is so busy applying for an invited NASA grant. So busy that he has made himself super-sniffly sick. He meant to stay up late tonight working on the thing, but has instead passed out downstairs on the couch.

*Tonight I had my first Spanish class. The university offers free language classes for faculty, staff, and those all important SPOUSES every semester. After 3 years of waiting for the right time, my goateed babysitter and I have decided that said time is NOW. So every Thursday day, myself and 20 other older estudiantes will meet with el profesor Alberto and escuchan y repitan. It is so much fun I could bust. And I think it's only a matter of time before I can keep up with Diego.

A barrel of fun

At the suggestion of our friends Anthony and Carlos, we decided we'd take Poppop to our little town's version of Oktoberfest, run by the local German heritage society. Oh my good Lord did we ever have a blast. And really, are you going to have a bad time at a place where you can buy a refill on your 5 liter beer?



We came as soon as they opened, at lunchtime on Saturday, and there were no lines. Rides were included in the price of admission, and their kiddie ride selection was quite nice. So we rode and rode and rode. Neither munchie couldn't decide if his favorite was the clown train...



... or the bouncing dune buggies. Choices, choices.



We also spun with Poppop inside fiberglass monkeys. Isaac got dissed by the bumper car operators, who declared he was not yet 42 inches tall, openly negating the judgement of the operators at the Indiana State Fair a month ago. Turds.

But none of that mattered, because there were hot dogs and soft pretzels to be eaten by the young people, as well as authentic bratwurst, potato salad, and various kinds of chocolate cake-like substances. And, once AnthonyCarlos's mommy bought me a beer, it was time to participate with my young boys in traditional German folk dances before finally letting it loose on the polka floor.



My O'Neal boys, they are half German, you know.

Taking Poppop to the orchard

We flew Poppop out to visit us Wednesday night. He had some vay-kay to burn; we had a Daddy that was gone this weekend. A match made in heaven!

Thursday morning we took Poppop to our playgroup, and then to a picnic lunch at the park with Carlos and Anna. Lots of running and splashing in creeks. Lots of fussing; very little pooping. For dinner, Poppop treated us to pizza.

Friday was preschool for Isaac. We all dropped him off, then let Jake pick what the morning held in store for us. He wanted to hang out at the orchard.



Jacob's favorite part was feeding the koi. Dude could stand there and look at the fish popping up around the pond for a billion years. We had to urge him on when our adult attention spans were not as great. Somehow, though, Jacob got by, feeding felled apples to the goats and pigs. We also tried our hand at the new corn maze. We were most talented at getting totally lost, but we had a good time anyway.



That picture shows surly Jake insisting that he would not be saying 'cheese', not on your life. And then very shortly after, atop Poppop's shoulders, the cheese comes easily.

C week

Last week was C week at Isaac's preschool. We were in charge of snack on Wednesday, and we dutifully brought cashews, cranberries, crackers, and chocolate milk. We got super-deluxe-o brownie points from Ms. Barbara, and yet we took home leftovers for the first time ever in our snack-bringing history. Oh well. Ms. Barbara was pleased that the kids "tried some of everything." Expanding their horizons, we are, with our outrageously foreign cashews and cranberries. Sigh.

Friday they read "The Very Hungry Caterpillar," and so had lots of neat art projects to support it. For example, a study in marker on metamorphosis:



And a painted caterpillar on a leaf. Both Isaac and Ms. Susie made a special comment about how his was the loooooongest of any of the caterpillars.



Also on Friday was their first show-and-tell. This is to be a regular Friday installment; the kids are supposed to bring a small object from home that starts with the letter of the week. Isaac brought his Muumi alarm clock, the one Daddy brought him from Finland:



After school, Poppop got a mini-tour of their classroom, and Isaac told him all about his job that day, as the napkin person.

Next up, "I" week. For Isaac! Can he bring himself for show-and-tell?

Storytime

Jakey and I have a standing Wednesday engagement with Miss Sue at the library for storytime.



His best homegirl Anna goes then, too. I'm pleased as punch that Anna's mom and I can take advantage of breaks in the action to gossip and plan future get-togethers, but unfortunately Jake could care less. He mostly wants to sit reclined against me as though I were an armchair and listen quietly to everything that comes out of Miss Sue's mouth. When he's not busy wielding his glue stick, that is.



Today's stories were about manners, so for our craft we made a paper plate guy who's using a hanky to cover his mouth when he sneezes.



Just before I took this picture, Jake pointed his finger at me and said "Here, Mommy." Adorning his fingertip was a freshly harvested nose nugget. At least the boy says his pleases and thank-yous.

Starring...zucchini

This post is dedicated to my homegirl Yvette.

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The boys and I are a huge fan of quick breads. Isaac, especially, who loves to eat them for breakfast. I use them as a vehicle to sneak extra protein or veggies into my eldest, King Picky Eater. We have had huge success with the following recipes, both of which are from the one site I visit every day, allrecipes.com:

Mom's Zucchini Bread
Banana Sour Cream Bread

I make both recipes with 1/3 whole wheat flour and extra on the egg and fruit/veggie, trying to shove as much nutrition in as a loaf pan will let me. Both recipes freeze so well that we have had quick bread every day for about a month.

Since zucchini is in season here, I've been making a disproportionate load of zucchini bread. Though the small people keep asking for more, it makes me, Neophyte Cook, wonder... what else does one use the local bumper crop of zucchini for?

I did a little research and, for grins, put together a simple zucchini-themed dinner tonight. Our main course was a vegetarian dish, Zucchini Herb Casserole. I thought it was passable if bland. Although he was amiably game and cleaned his plate, Daddy suggested it might pass for good eats in a prison, if the prison garden was experiencing a bumper crop of zucchini.

The star of the show, though, was dessert. Zucchini brownies.



This is, by far, the weirdest recipe I've ever tried from this site. It has no eggs. The only liquid comes from 2 cups of zucchini (though I used 3) and a 1/2 c of oil (and that I half-subbed out with applesauce). I put it all together like the recipe directs and I was literally hitting at it to get it into the pan, that's how stiff and nasty the batter was. And yet when it is all baked out and frosted like so, it tastes moist and springy, as Isaac himself puts it, "just like chocolate cake". No weird texture or vegetable taste. And if you don't mind, I'll excuse myself to get a glass of milk to wash down my 4th piece of the evening.

Our first date!

Every night before preschool, I gone on and on telling Jake of the special times he and I will have together the following day while brother is at school. And then we always end up doing something stupid like buying groceries, or something fun but not exactly strengthening the Mommy-Munchie bond, like having a playdate with friends.

Today we did it; I took just Jake with me to the orchard for a glorious 90 minutes of fun in the sun and one-on-one time. We made a project out of feeding fallen apples to the goats and the pigs. The baby goats were special; they got actual goat food from the goat-food vending machine. No mold for the cute ones, no sir!



Now for photo-shoot Jakey. We played on the train for a long time and I whipped out my camera. He asked me to take all these pictures of him and posed in specific ways for them. I hope when he is a world-famous supermodel that he'll remember these days fondly and consider screaming "Ka-chow" when the paps are snapping him.

Sucks to your organized sports

After a one-week delay thanks to Hannah, today was Isaac's first day of soccer class.



Like baseball class before it, soccer class is not a league. It exists solely to get little people together on a Saturday to learn about fundamentals and practice them on an individual basis. I painted the rosiest possible picture of baseball while it was happening, but the truth is that, at best, Isaac tried to do it because he thought that would make us happy, and told us exactly that when he was done. It was a source of much argument and frustration, not with Isaac, so much as him with me and Daddy, or with Daddy and I amongst ourselves. A fantastic waste of our precious weekend mental state.

But what should we be doing with the boy? I don't think that just because he's a boy he should play sports. I do think it's important for him to know about them, and how to play them with other kids. We don't play a lot of sports at home; we are not sporty people, either. We are certainly game; both Daddy and I operate on the philosophy of trying everything once. So, shouldn't we encourage Isaac to try, too? Shouldn't we point out how important it is to help out your team, how you should listen to what your coach says, how you should always try to do your best? For baseball, Daddy did these things with Isaac every Saturday morning for 6 weeks, and usually Daddy and Isaac would have an understanding about how he would behave. But whenever I came along, for any session, at some point Isaac would become hysterical with fussing because he did NOT want to do baseball.

Now, when your kid breaks down in front of everyone, and especially around all these other kids who are doing exactly as they ought, what do you do? Should you take him gently aside, speak in loving and understanding tones about duty and character, and then walk him back to where he belongs?

What if he persists in loud tones flecked with gibberish? Should you then be a bit more stern, and perhaps even walk away?

What if your child, the most well-behaved angel boy in the history of the universe, then becomes incoherent, his eyes leaking and his bones suddenly losing their structure? Do you threaten with time-outs to get his attention? And then, when that doesn't work...

You get the picture. It's frustrating, and one can only try to understand what's going on in his head. Always, though, everything starts well. This time, Daddy and Jake left Isaac and I alone at soccer a few minutes early. He and I had a fantastic time running all over the field kicking a ball back and forth, tripping around and stealing it from each other. Even after the fun, when everything became regimented and organized, Isaac behaved perfectly for 20 of the 45 minutes. He's in the blue shirt, doing dribbling drills.



Then, out of nowhere, came the waterworks. I noticed it happened after one of his teachers ignored Isaac when he tried to tell the teacher something for the second time, and then the teacher gave the gentlest of reminders that Isaac should go faster dribbling around a cone so others could take their turns. I can understand, on both sides.

We stuck around for the rest of the lesson and Isaac never calmed down. Daddy and I tried different approaches with him, encouraging, punishing, bribing, and predictably nothing worked. All around us, other kids were just puttering along, doing as their coaches asked. We held things up, we drew attention to ourselves. I wondered what people thought.

I'm so sorry to say that only later did it strike me that I hadn't really considered what Isaac needs in all this. I've pushed the sports thing, not him, and not Daddy. I'm so excited that he's old enough to do cool stuff like this that I want to sign him up. I ask him and of course he thinks its sounds cool, but I just don't think the format suits him. I think if the setting was more familiar (like at preschool) or if he had friends of similar ability that he could talk to, things would go over much more smoothly.

But until then, remembering that DUDE IS ONLY FOUR, I have a new game plan. Each Saturday, I will ask if he wants to go to soccer. If he says no, we'll stay home. If he says yes, we'll go. If at any time he gets upset, he can sit out with me on the sideline with no expectation of going back in at all. If he really wants to go home, we'll go home. That's it. I can't believe it's taken me nearly 6 months to realize that Isaac needs to do this on his timeline, not mine.

Bites from a busy day

Today, like yesterday, was overscheduled. A big thank-you goes out to the rain tonight that kept the boys away from a social engagement and drove us towards the grocery store (where we picked up spaghetti squash to try for the first time tomorrow) and then the library (where we picked up The Land Before Time, which we later watched).

This morning Isaac had preschool. Today was their last day of Safety and Citizenship week. Today they learned how to stop, drop, and roll, which Isaac gleefully and accurately demonstrated for me in front of his cubby as soon as school was done. I forgot to mention that a real policeman (a classmate's dad, actually) visited the class Wednesday and let them climb around the patrol car. That was a real highlight.

While Isaac was at preschool, we entertained the family of his new classmate, Evelyn, at our house. We snacked on banana bread lovingly forged by Evelyn's mom, and then Jake and Evelyn's baby sister Charlotte took advantage of the not-yet-raining weather to play outside. So, playdate #1, with our cool new friends. It went great, mostly because Evelyn's mom is so rad. It only took us five minutes of talking to get to the topic of birth control; that is just how cool she is.

After preschool we ran around like mad people getting a picnic lunch together. Then we met Carlos and Anna at a park for playdate #2. This park happens to adjoin the building where Isaac has acting class, which started today. So, while our little man was off perfecting his drama skillz, Jake and I played at first with our old friends Carlos and Anna, but then with new friends, too, siblings of the four other kids in the class. All in the mild drizzle.

At the end of acting class we were invited to watch a video of the kids acting out the story of the Three Little Pigs. And just who do you think was the Big Bad Wolf? OH YES, it was Isaac. And he was so fantastically wonderful. Words do not describe it. Not only did he get his words right, but he also delivered them in a deep, rumbly voice much like you hear from wolves today. It was so awesome that he got compliments for his standout performance from ALL the mommies as they left. Next week Isaac gets assigned lines to memorize for a short play his class will produce at the end of the run of classes, like a real actor. I can't wait to see what Mr. I No Longer Have a Shell will do with that.

Thinking about Poppop

We have been so busy today. We had a playdate with a new friend this morning, then a playdate with old friends. We had preschool, then acting class. Everything went so well, and I can't wait to blog about it when I can think about anything else but my dad.

My mom just called, lots of voices in the background. "Your dad's at Shelby County Hospital. He's fine, it was just low blood sugar. I gotta go."

Umm. Ummm...FREAKING WHAT????

I just got off the phone with the man, seriously, not three hours ago to discuss his plans for driving out here on Wednesday to visit with us for a long weekend. I guess now I'll just sit here and pretend to read my book until Meemaw calls back.

---

I can't believe I waited fifteen whole minutes before I called my brother to see if he might be able to tell me more than Meemaw. Of course I forgot that my brother, THE DOCTOR, had the whole week off from work and so would be standing right next to my dad's hospital bed. So here's the story as I now understand it, and I swear I am not making this up.

When I talked to Poppop earlier today, he was pulling into a client's parking lot, and they were to have a little chat. Apparently this client was in Shelbyville or thereabouts, 30 minutes away from Poppop's place of employ in Indianapolis. The chat was had, and Poppop started back to his office. Except he never got there. In the middle of Indiana farmland, Poppop's blood sugar got so low that he drove off the road and started doing donuts in a cornfield. He stopped only because the Shelby County police pulled their guns on him, NO JOKE, in order to get him into handcuffs and subsequently into an ambulance. When the EMTs checked his blood sugar, it was at 38. Normal is between 80 to 110, according to Wikipedia. Awesome.

So he's fine now, that Poppop. They just gave him some sugar and I think are even discharging him from the hospital as we speak. I think it's officially okay now to find the whole situation ridiculously hysterical. But I seriously doubt he'll be driving out to visit us next week. Cornfields are forgiving; the Appalachians are not.

On bribery

Jacob's poop strike continues. Many times every day, the boy runs through the house screaming "Mommy, MOMMEEEE!", freaking out and grabbing his buttcrack, but never of his own volition heading to the potty.

My favorite new tactic is casual bribery.

"Do you need to poop?"
"NO!"
"I'll give you a piece of candy if you poop."
"NO, I DON'T WANT CANDY!"

Seriously, the kid says that. Recently I expanded my bribery repertoire. We have a basket on a high shelf we use for toy time-out. Most of the time, the only way I can get Jacob to obey is to put his favorite toys in time-out for the day. I can't decide if this tactic is really quite evil, but for me there aren't many other options. This morning I put Woody in a time-out because Jacob made a point of ignoring every word I said. Tonight I suggested Woody might get an early reprieve if Jake showed me some poo. He thought about it a little before saying no. The little one, he is broken, I swear.

Yesterday I was so concerned with his obvious pain that I quit giving him milk, which I probably should have been doing all along. His pediatrician told me it would exacerbate his constipation, and that I should take it out of his diet whenever he had episodes, of which I was told there would be many for months to come. This was a big deal, though -- both boys always start their morning with a cup of warm milk. When I told him he couldn't have it because he wasn't pooping, he took it surprisingly well. But he did keep asking, and I had to keep telling. Finally I was struck with inspiration.

"You can have some milk if you make me some poop."

Pause. Sigh.

"All right. I'll make some poop for you."

And he DID.

Good clean monkey fun

We met our lifelong love Ella bright and early at this gigantic park this morning for some exercise and socialization. Isaac picked out his "monkey shirt" to wear to our playdate, so I thought I'd dress Jacob similarly. Little did I know how those shirts foretold the future.

Behold my circus of acrobat monkeys as they conquer the mystical monkey maze!



Always a hit was the slide made entirely of rolling plastic cylinders. Jacob would only go backwards, as is his usual sliding posture. Isaac on the other hand... well, let's just be thankful the kid starts drama class on Friday. He needs an outlet for his special gift.
























Too soon it was time for Ella and her entourage to head to preschool. The boys and I geared up, literally -- backpack full of rainboots, clean clothes, and all -- to head to the biggest part of the park, acres and acres of logged and cleared but undeveloped land that is basically nothing more than a big mud puddle. Yeehah! But no sooner had we watched Ella climb into her car when we heard thunder and its party-pooping friend, lightning. No muddy fun for us, boooooooo.

So we went back to our boring old house and entertained ourselves as best we could. We were treated to a serenade by our resident percussionist, Jacob, who knows his ABCs back and forth but can't help being distracted by his theatrical brother:



Meanwhile, said brother was creating a museum for dinosaurs. Right in our very living room! I took a video of him giving us a tour, replete with a safety song to start it off (the main gist is "don't stick your hand in the cage". Sound advice, that.):

Granola experiments

Sometimes I think I am trying my hardest to turn into a homesteader wife, you know, one who lives in a suburb of Philadelphia.

Today was the most gorgeous day in the history of the universe. Not too hot or humid, not too cold, just a slight bit of a breeze. Just the right conditions for... line-drying your clothes! I tried this today for the first time, shunting four loads of laundry from the dryer to my backyard. Technically, I lack a clothes-drying line, so I improvised, laying blankets and quilts over patio furniture; drying two loads of clothes and towels on an indoor drying rack placed on the sunniest side of the house. I couldn't believe how quick that sun and wind sucked the water out of everything, and made all my laundry smell as though it had been kissed by angels. And it all pleases my inner miser when I save money by not running the dryer. I'm definitely doing that again.

In a much crunchier experiment, I am also trying out a no-'poo lifestyle. And I'm not talking about what Jake is trying to live up to. I was inspired by an article in a alternative Indianapolis magazine about people who stop shampooing their hair, mostly in an effort to stick it to the man while standing up for the environment, all with the pleasant side-effect of healthier hair. This is me! I thought. Dirty Claire is vindicated!

Actually, it wasn't me and my habit of bathing every other day. It's not that you don't clean your hair at all, but rather do so in a gentler way. Instead of using shampoo, you use baking soda to clean your hair. Instead of using conditioner, you use apple cider vinegar. The idea is that you still wash your hair, except that, over time, your hair's natural oils give you shine and body where they couldn't before, because they were being stripped away by the detergents in shampoo. This is what I was motivated by; my hair has always been frizzy at the top, but otherwise flat, lifeless, and greasy. What did I have to lose?

I last shampooed my hair Tuesday night, 6 days ago. I've washed it three times with baking soda and vinegar; today I skipped the vinegar. There is supposed to be a "transitional period" at about 1-2 weeks where your hair's oils struggle to find the right balance. Daddy commented today that I was looking a little greasy. But I am still encouraged because it is just so easy, and because I can't believe how unusually soft and full my hair already is, fun to touch even in between washings.

Helpful sites I found to get started included babyslime and Green Parenting.

A Texas-sized kick in the pants

Daddy has been so miffed that I have neglected to take pictures of my children wearing the boots he bought for them in Texas. These boots he brought home, they are so authentic you get the feeling a real Texas cowboy done killt you that critter and tanned its hide up fer ya real nice before fashioning it into stellar footwear made to outlast your average human. Each pair is just a hair too big for its owner, but that doesn't stop us at all from running all around town and doing errands in them. Here is Jacob modeling his, which are part ostrich leather.



I didn't take a picture of Isaac in his, because today was the Jacob show. Rather, I should say that the show was stolen by Jacob's poop. It is pretty easy to sum up many of our recent days, including today, like so: from the time Jake finished his morning cup of milk, which I spiced with his usual dose of stool softener, every fifteen to twenty minutes ALL DAY LONG he screams and grabs his butt. Every time I ask him if he has to poop. Instead of answering, he stops screaming and completely changes the subject as if nothing ever happened (or had already happened at least fifty times today).

After lunch his obvious pain got the best of me and I basically demanded that he sit on the pot until poop arrived. At first I was totally cool and offered my usual candy-for-poop agreement, which worked like a charm over the weekend. Today that was a no go. Next I offered to read a story in exchange for a grunt. Lots of screaming refusals over that one. I'm sure I did something else from the Cool Mommy Playbook that similarly failed. After all that, I was so insane with the, well, insanity of it -- my ridiculous kid sitting here, hurting himself more every minute he won't poop -- I actually held my hands on his thighs to keep his butt on the pot.

After an hour of constant screaming (towards the end, it was from both parties) and still no poop, Jakey confessed to me that he was scared of it, scared that it would hurt. Sigh. I helped him down and insisted that he take a nap. He had worn himself out crying and it was that time anyway. He went down without a peep and slept for three hours.

And where was his brother in all this? I really don't know. I yelled out from time to time to ask how Isaac was, and always there was the familiar refrain, "Doin' good!" For a whole hour, I couldn't tell you for the life of me what my 4-year-old was doing, and that bugs the living crap out of me. If only it could manage to bug the literal crap out of his little brother.

Finally at 5 this evening, Jacob couldn't hold his poop back any longer and started screaming as he pooped in his pants. For the first time, he didn't fight me when I set him on the pot, though there was no end to the unholy shrieking and the tears. And you wouldn't believe the Texas-sized poop that came out of him.

It would be understanding of me to say, "No wonder he was in such pain." But I can't. I know I'm being so immature about this, but I'm just so angry because he does it all to himself. He was so cool about pooping on the potty for a few weeks; now it's like we are back to square one, except that he has decreed there will be no more diapers. He and Daddy (AKA The Poop Whisperer) have a special relationship in this area because Daddy has the time and patience to work through the poops with him. I have neither. I know I need to calm down about this, but come ON! Who has an hour of their day to sit patiently coaxing their child to drop the dook that never comes? Who can survive a day filled with constant intervals of pain-filled shrieks? Tell me, WHO? Could you?

Stomach flu blitzkrieg

It appears that another of these 24-hour stomach bugs has wormed its way into our house. Daddy and I woke up today with both our stomachs roiling. I'm particularly proud that we went to church anyway, and early church at that. I was inspired by the late great Grandpa Peetz. Meemaw told me how she would beg her dad to let her stay home from church when she had a cold. Grandpa Peetz, never one to mince words, told her "the only way you're staying home from church is if you're dead." I think he would be proud of us. It really wasn't that hard, except when I took communion. You'd think a teeny bit of bread and wine wouldn't be enough to make you blow chunks, but you'd be wrong.

When we got back home, I threw up way more than should be possible for someone who had eaten nothing that morning. Daddy, bless his darling precious heart, wrangled the babies from 9:30 to 4:30 so I could lay in bed and moan. The only thing that made me feel better was napping with Jake. Daddy brought him into bed with me at around 1, and Jake promptly conked out, all the while kicking and kneaded my aching back like a shiatsu massage. Between that and snuggle therapy, I felt much better when I woke up.

Then it was time for Daddy to be sick all afternoon and evening. Daddy was thankful for football, which gave him an excellent reason to lay down and rest while he took in three different games. Isaac even watched the blowout Eagles game with Daddy, prompting him to ask, "Daddy, why does one team always have the ball?"

So today, a gorgeous sunny one in the 70s where I had grandiose plans of going apple-picking, was completely a wash. Mommy and Daddy lay around and groaned while the babies watched a bazillion hours of TV. Certainly days like this make us wish we lived a little closer to the grandparents.

Hannah hits

Tropical storm Hannah blew through our neck of the woods today, bringing with it more than 3 inches of much-needed rain. Nothing seriously debilitating for our social agenda, though, except that Isaac's first soccer class was cancelled. Oh well, we found other things to do.

*Dress-up. Our intrepid construction worker and firefighter put in such a hard day's work fighting an evil frog king that they had to take a nap.



*Starbucks. We met a barista who commented on my Indiana University hoodie and we found out she was from Boggstown, Indiana. She and Daddy knew of lots of the same places.

*Library. We checked out a bunch of new books and some movies, including a National Geographic special about dinosaurs found in national parks. On the way out, a kindly gentleman tried to help me with a Jacob who wasn't using his listening ears. He also commented on my IU hoodie. "Good school by the way." "Yes! I enjoyed it." "Me, too." I've been wearing my hoodie around town sporadically for three years and no one's said a thing; then two comments within an hour today. I guess the rain flushes all the Hoosiers out of the house.

*Cookie-making. Daddy specificially requested White Chocolate Macadamia Nut.

*Lots of napping. We firmly believe rain is good for that.

Friday fun

Highlights from today:

*Right now, Daddy is in the backyard with our new babysitter, Katelyn. We are trying her on for the first time today and she seems like a good fit for us. But poor girl...I hear Daddy encouraging Jake to pee on a tree, with Isaac cheering him on, shouting "Emergency! Emergency!" Oh well. She seems tomboy enough to handle us.

*Isaac had another great day at preschool. He is so excited to go, and excited to be there. No tears, no fussing whatsoever. Next week is Safety Week. One of the dads is a cop, and he is coming over one day to let all the kids climb around in his patrol car. I love our school.

*There are two new kids in Isaac's class, and they are really nice. The bonus for me is that one of the kids is the daughter of the freelance writer who interviewed me long long ago for a mommy-blogging article. This daughter was also in Isaac's Tot Lot this summer, but the drop-off and pick-up there was kind of crazy and hurried and I never got a chance to chat with her mom. Today I really did, and she is SO COOL. So I get to say that *I* made a new friend in preschool today.

*I was looking forward to having some special Jake time while Isaac was in preschool. We had plans to ride his trike to the park. But at the last minute, out of nowhere, Jake developed an uncontrollable craving for Froot Loops. Since we needed to go grocery shopping anyway, we got to kill two birds with one stone. And I saved $14 from clipped coupons, a personal best. But next time! Next time we shall have our Mommy - Jakey time. I think I say that more than I should.

The Clean Team

This week the boys and I had some extra time before we had to be at playgroup, and I thought we should take the opportunity to clean our dirty house together. Now, Isaac, my darling freak-child, is the King of Clean. He loooooooves to help vacuum, and especially to wipe things down. Jacob has been more reluctant to board the clean train than Isaac. Last week during our vacuuming session I asked him repeatedly to pick his toys up. When he not so much refused as chose to play instead of doing his job, I told him that the vacuum cleaner was going to eat any the toys left on the floor. He didn't believe me until I shooed him out of his room, hid his toys, and vacuumed. Today when I got out the vacuum again, he practically pushed me down in his rush to clean up his room before I got there. Awesome.

Also awesome is an article I read in Family Fun magazine about green cleaning. I thought we'd put this in action this morning. Each boy got his own squirt bottle filled with 1 c water and 1 T baking soda.



They did a great job on the kitchen and bathroom. Then they continued to do a great job on all glass surfaces, with gross and streaky results. We might have to look for a better all-purpose green cleaner for next time. I think tomorrow we're due for a kitchen floor scrubbing party, an institution devised by Isaac. I give each boy a scrub brush and a shallow water source and let them go to town on the floor. They love it, so much so that when they're done they take their show to the bathroom.

And no, my kids are not for sale.

First day

Much to my surprise, Isaac's been asking me for weeks now about preschool. "Mom, I want to go to preschool again so I can do MY stuff." Today he got his wish.



A new year, a new nametag. And this year, he gets the top cubby. 'Cause he's in Big Kid preschool now, of course. People are taller there.



What did you do this summer, Isaac?



"And in that picture, that's me, and I'm sliding down a really tall, crazy slide."

First day blowout, literally

Dino-Professor Isaac asked me a few months ago if we could make a volcano for his dinosaurs to play on and around. At the time I said sure, then promptly blew him off. He brought it up again on Sunday, and this time I didn't let him down. Thank you, eHow, for instructing me in the finer points of how to build a papier-mache volcano.

And so we built us a fine-lookin' volcano out of a plastic water bottle, a bunch of newspaper, tape, and paste. We let it dry out in the hot sun on the patio. Then last night before bed we mixed appropriate colors of poster paint and painted it with our fingers. I promised Isaac that we would make it erupt after his first day of preschool.

Then a good friend suggested we meet up at the orchard for a lunchtime playdate to celebrate the first day of school. How could we say no? I made sure to bring along our volcano and its accoutrements to keep my promise.





We had a great time dumping loads of vinegar and baking soda into the thing, so much so that it overflowed its container and got us all red with food coloring and runny poster paint. And while we're having such old-fashioned messy fun, why not top it off with the ultimate end-of-summer mess?