Deal or No Deal?

Owen has learned how to use the word "compromise". Here's how it went down. "Owen, you need to clean up your Transformers, go potty, and go to bed". "Mom, I have a compromise for you. You clean up my Transformers, I'll go potty and then I'll go to bed". And you know what? I accepted his compromise. I felt he had earned it with a better grasp of the word "compromise" than Alanis Morissette ever had of the word "ironic". Not bad for an almost-five year old.

Sick Day

I was just settling into work yesterday, looking forward to a day of pleasant conversation which would likely not revolve around bathroom habits, when I saw the dreaded "Daycare" pop up on my cell phone. What to do... ignore it? No, Owen could probably give Karen turn-by-turn directions... they would eventually find me. I answered and gathered all the pertinent details: Owen, violently throwing up, needed right away, must drop everything, etc., etc. As I am still recovering from the flu myself, and have been even more exhausted and emotional than usual lately, my eyes actually started filling up when I went to tell my boss that I had to leave for the eight thousandth time. She immediately took pity on me, assuming that I was suffering from guilt at having dropped a sick kid off at daycare. Okay, go with that. It definitely didn't have anything to do with just plain wanting to remain in the sanctuary of work for the rest of the day.

When I walked into Karen's I was greeted by the sound of sobbing. I thought, "oh no, Owen is really sick". And he was. But the sobbing was actually coming from Ellie who, as a general rule, doesn't sob. Owen was standing there, white as a sheet, like a brave little soldier and Ellie was beside herself with worry for her big brother. It was actually very sweet. And watching her dote on him for the rest of the day was quite sweet, too. She had to "check on Owen" about 50 times, brought him every single one of his animals, fed him crackers, and on and on. (So remind me of all of this when she comes down with the same thing tomorrow).

Update: I am now a card-carrying member of the Noggin Fanclub (not really; they don't actually have one. Do they???) And Owen has completely recovered which means that he and Ellie are back to driving each other, say it with me, "BONKERS".

Rough Morning...

Friday mornings tend to be rough. We go from school to gymnastics to ski lessons, and yet for some reason I fail to prepare for this triathlon of sorts until about 8:15 AM. Then I race around the house, throwing things together and complaining that no one is moving with any sense of urgency. This morning I had to break out my "serious" voice to get Owen moving which, combined with the hand-on-one-hip stance, did actually work. Extremely proud of myself for getting my kids to finally listen to me, I went into the bathroom to brush my teeth. That's when I noticed the enormous blueberry that had lodged itself between my two front teeth during breakfast; I have new respect for Owen at having kept a straight face during my tirade.

We finally got out of the house, and were moving steadily toward the car when Owen asked me when our new baby was coming. (My bad for bringing the kids with me to the doctor recently, but you do what ya gotta do. It never dawned on me that he had left with that impression). I assured him that Mommy was not having any more babies, got everyone into the car, and decided the topic was closed. But he had one more question: "Mom, why do only Mommys have babies, and not Daddys?" Oh jeez, this already? I managed to narrowly escape having to answer (topics of conversation change quickly around our house), so I will save my discussion about pain tolerance and fortitude for another day. Kidding. Sort of.

Confession Time (Again)

Since 'ol Loose Lips was in the car with me at the time, I might as well fess up now and tell you that I was pulled over today. Expired inspection sticker. I think the competitor in me wanted to see just how long I could get away with it. 5 months was a good run, but it all ended today with an expensive and humiliating citation. Turns out they do write tickets for that kind of thing, and my otherwise flawless driving record has now been marred. Owen found the whole experience to be extremely funny, although I did my best to turn it into a "rules are in place for a reason" lesson. After a not-so-quick stop at the Getty for a new sticker (eventually I do learn), we continued on to the Boston Children's Museum. Click here to check out our pictures.

Road Trip

Mike and the kids piled into Uncle David's Sequoia on Friday for a ski weekend in Vermont with the cousins (why don't they ever want to take the Forester?) I agreed to stay behind for some peace and quiet... um, sorry, to get some things done around the house. In the special way that only a boy who's 5 going on 13 can relay information, Owen provided me with these highlights of his trip:

• Nanny made waffles.
• Poppa had an ear ache.
• Ski school was "awesome" (the hot dogs they served for lunch made quite an impression).
• He did "two crazy jumps" in his ski lesson and crashed into the snow.
• His friend Jacob was quiet; Oli was "very talkative". (That's a compliment).
  

Ellie apparently had a great (and exhausting) time as well, because she fell asleep at the dinner table tonight. Okay, maybe I should start re-thinking that whole nap thing...

Sweet Dreams

Note the Rice Krispie Treat that she's still clutching... she dozed off while eating it.

Rockin' Out

I don't know where she gets her moves, but can this girl dance or what? Enjoy this clip from yesterday's Ben Rudnick concert in Nashua.

Ski School!

Owen and Oli started their ski lessons on Friday at Nashoba Valley, and both reported that they had a great time. Although I think they were hoping they could cruise straight down the hill at top speed, they did a really good job of sticking with the "basics".

Click here for photos.

Holiday Hangover

I decided that our bathroom scale was broken this morning when it reported a three pound weight gain. Three pounds? How is that even possible after a mere two weeks of limited activity, excessive eating and nightly cocktails? I finally convinced myself that I was carrying an extra three pounds of mucus in my head, as I am suffering (and I do mean suffering) from a very annoying head cold. Apparently my lethargy is contagious because the kids decided they were ready to leave playgroup today after only an hour (even before the weekly running races, from which Owen usually emerges victorious... did I mention he's the oldest kid at this particular playgroup?) So I broke my New Years resolution already (I'm so weak) and stopped at Dunkin Donuts on the way home for a coffee. Pathetic, yes, but I just knew I wouldn't survive the ride home (including the game of "I spy with my little eye") without it. So unless one of my faithful readers is volunteering to come entertain my kids for the day so that I can climb back into my warm cocoon of a bed, I'm facing a long afternoon with two children who are suffering the dreaded holiday hangover. You know, when the UPS guy drives past our house and they start jumping up and down yelling, "MORE presents???" I see naps in the future.

Two Days and Counting...

These last two weeks of school vacation have been great. Really. I've spent much of the time in my new Victoria's Secret lounge pants (glorified sweat pants, really, but calling them lounge pants makes me feel like a woman of leisure). I've loved all the family outings. Sleeping late (you know, 6:30 some days) has been awesome. However, I am reeeaaallly looking forward to school starting up again. For one thing, I don't know what color lips a dinosaur has. Never even wondered. So next time Owen asks me, I'd really love to say, "you know what? You should ask your teacher today at school". This morning he asked me how bricks are made (what, do I have a PhD in masonry all the sudden?). Another perfect question for his teacher. And I love all the time I've spent with Owen -- truly, I do. But if I hear, "Mom, do you want to have a sword fight?" one more time, I might actually challenge him to one.

Okay, lest I sound like a total shrew, let me mention some of the positives about our time together. I have to admit, it's pretty sweet that they've developed this habit of climbing into bed with us in the morning. (I don't love it when they rub their faces all over my pillow and spread their adorable little germs, but I digress). And they really are buds. They fight like crazy, but when they think no one's watching, they are genuinely kind to one another. I love that. And, most importantly, they actually really enjoy time with us. Don't get me wrong, I long for the day that I can begin and finish a thought without someone interrupting with a story about Star Wars or Hello Kitty, but I also know that the day will come when they won't want to talk to me. Sort of gets me to appreciate the incessant chatter and the, "Mom, I NEEEEED you" song that everyone sings around here.