Will shows off his take from the church Easter egg hunt when we were visiting in Kentucky.
Sunday, April 30, 2006
Monday, April 24, 2006
My pal Poko
This morning, as I battled Adelaide's all-through-the-night diaper, Will walked in and stood by the door, looking quite thoughtful. I glanced over at him with my "yes?" eyebrows, and he sighed.
"Mommy, when is Poko coming back? I miss him."
Who, you may be wondering, is Poko? A stray animal from the neighborhood? A child with an unfortunate and bizzarre name? A Native American spirit Will has be channelling in his spare time? (For those of you who know about Will's escapades, this is a legitimate concern, I suppose.)
Let me introduce you to Poko the way I met him.
Last summer, I was in the last months of my pregnancy with Adelaide. Will was mentally preparing to be a big brother, I suppose, and was looking for something to nurture. He desperately wanted a pet. We tried explaining to him that now was not really optimum pet procurement time, what with the new little sister's imminent arrival. This for some reason was not an acceptable explanation to him. Being the strange little boy that he is, however, he chose to create a superhero-pet named Poko that he would draw pictures of and write stories about. (Why can't he just throw a tantrum like other kids?)
Poko became sort of a fixture around the house. Will talked about him like he was real, and so we played along. We saw no harm in his imaginary super-pet, so this was a productive diversion for all.
Poko pretty much lived in stories and a four-year-old's drawings until one hot day in July. I was heavy with baby and on modified bedrest (modified being that I could get up and do things until my fingers swelled to the size of hot dogs and my face was the color of ketchup) and Will had gone outside to get the paper for me. I watched him from the window, and he returned with the news in tow. A few moments later, however, he began to act strangely. I mean, more strangely than usual.
He was running around the house, laughing, calling after Poko. It was an imaginary game of chase, and Will was having a grand time.
"Look, mommy!" he shouted. "Look at Poko! I can't catch him!"
"Umm hmmm," I answered, scanning the front page of the paper. But Will didn't relent.
"Mommy!" he shouted, breathless from the chase. "Mommy, come look! Poko is up there!" He pointed to the top of the molding above one of our doors. Considering that Poko was a well-known super pet, I didn't think much of his sudden flying ability.
'That's great, Will," I answered, somewhat distracted. "Poko can fly, huh?"
"No," he said, looking a little confused at my apparent ignorance. "No, he walks up the wall." He answered me like this was the most obvious thing in the world and I clearly had something wrong with me that I didn't see that.
A few minutes later, I got up and walked over to where Will was playing with his imaginary pet. I was just about to ask him what he wanted for lunch when I discovered something shocking.
Poko was no imaginary super-pet today. Poko, rather, was a baby Gecko lizard.
I screamed and dropped the newspaper I was holding.
"Poko....Poko's REAL!" I yelled to the child who obviously knew that.
"Um, yeah," he said, confused.
"Poko...is...real...." I refrained from thumb sucking and reverting to the fetal position in that moment mostly because it was incompatible with my present state of pregnancy. I still consider us fortunate that my unexpected introduction to Poko Gecko did not result in premature labor.
I finally managed to get my wits about me enough to concoct a plan involving a plastic food storage container, a piece of cardstock paper, and the front door. Will was very unhappy about this development, but I explained to him that Poko lived right outside our house and that Will could visit him whenever he wanted. While he wasn't completely mollified at this resolution, I added a bowl of ice cream to the deal and it was settled.
I guess that now as the weather is warming and the geckos are beginning to crawl about our front door again, Will got to thinking about his old buddy Poko. We have since adopted a baby turtle named Swimmer who Will does take care of very well. But I suppose that a boy never really lets go of his first pet, even when its a formerly imaginary amphibian that he only bonded with for one fleeting afternoon.
Saturday, April 08, 2006
Intrepid Explorer
Doesn't he look adventerous and fearless here? Good...because as soon as he was out of Ben's reach, the rock wall was a no-go. I just wanted to make it look like he was preparing for his next adventure in the Andes.
We weren't even supposed to be at the Bunny Hop, actually. We were going to go to our nice, calm, personal church egg hunt this morning. Unfortunately, however, it was being held at the new church property where our next building is to be constructed. I haven't ever been there, but my friend Ann told me it was easy, that it was just at the intersection of Highland and Siegen.
No problem, I thought, that's simple enough. Besides, Ben was driving, so I assumed that any probelms that I had would be alleiated by the Y-chromosome compass in the driver's seat.
But...we couldn't find it. We turned down all sorts of imposing looking private driveways only to discover that we'd apparently trespassed upon the secret Louisiana hideaway of Bill and Melinda Gates. So after a few missteps like that, we gave up. There was huge billboard for the "Bunny Hop" on the road, though, and Will, being that he can read and all, decided that was an acceptable alternative.
So we went. It was okay...just really crowded. And we really don't like crowds. The rock wall was basically ten minutes in line for five seconds of climbing, and then we had to kill like fifty minutes until the egg hunt for his age group.
We kept expecting the guy with the microphone to announce the impending event, but he didn't. At five minutes to the appointed time, we decided to go over and check it out...only to discover about a thousand anxious kids amassed at one side of the egg-sprinkled field, waiting for the guy with the bullhorn to tell them to go.
So I was like, "Oh, no!" I grabbed Will's hand, threw everything but his Easter basket to my unsuspecting husband, and dragged Will across the parking lot, yelling, "Come on, come on! You don't want to miss it," all the while worried that I would have to search all over town for another egg-stravaganza to fulfill my promise to my son if we missed the big show. As we entered the field and approached the throng of people, I began to calm down, thinking we had made it.
Then, before we got to the starting line, as we strolled up to the area thinking we were fine, the bullhorn guy yells, "Go!" and the kids start running. I practically pushed Will onto the field, yelling, "Go go go!"
In the end, he did fine. He got a bunch of cheap candy and plastic eggs that made him very happy, and he even exhibited some smarts in the process -- instead of following the masses to the middle of the field, he went around to the edges, would stop, pick up a couple of eggs, and move on. We were impressed. It worked, and he got a basket with a perfectly respectable treat bounty.
And after all, that is what Easter is all about, right?
(wait...)
We weren't even supposed to be at the Bunny Hop, actually. We were going to go to our nice, calm, personal church egg hunt this morning. Unfortunately, however, it was being held at the new church property where our next building is to be constructed. I haven't ever been there, but my friend Ann told me it was easy, that it was just at the intersection of Highland and Siegen.
No problem, I thought, that's simple enough. Besides, Ben was driving, so I assumed that any probelms that I had would be alleiated by the Y-chromosome compass in the driver's seat.
But...we couldn't find it. We turned down all sorts of imposing looking private driveways only to discover that we'd apparently trespassed upon the secret Louisiana hideaway of Bill and Melinda Gates. So after a few missteps like that, we gave up. There was huge billboard for the "Bunny Hop" on the road, though, and Will, being that he can read and all, decided that was an acceptable alternative.
So we went. It was okay...just really crowded. And we really don't like crowds. The rock wall was basically ten minutes in line for five seconds of climbing, and then we had to kill like fifty minutes until the egg hunt for his age group.
We kept expecting the guy with the microphone to announce the impending event, but he didn't. At five minutes to the appointed time, we decided to go over and check it out...only to discover about a thousand anxious kids amassed at one side of the egg-sprinkled field, waiting for the guy with the bullhorn to tell them to go.
So I was like, "Oh, no!" I grabbed Will's hand, threw everything but his Easter basket to my unsuspecting husband, and dragged Will across the parking lot, yelling, "Come on, come on! You don't want to miss it," all the while worried that I would have to search all over town for another egg-stravaganza to fulfill my promise to my son if we missed the big show. As we entered the field and approached the throng of people, I began to calm down, thinking we had made it.
Then, before we got to the starting line, as we strolled up to the area thinking we were fine, the bullhorn guy yells, "Go!" and the kids start running. I practically pushed Will onto the field, yelling, "Go go go!"
In the end, he did fine. He got a bunch of cheap candy and plastic eggs that made him very happy, and he even exhibited some smarts in the process -- instead of following the masses to the middle of the field, he went around to the edges, would stop, pick up a couple of eggs, and move on. We were impressed. It worked, and he got a basket with a perfectly respectable treat bounty.
And after all, that is what Easter is all about, right?
(wait...)
Thursday, April 06, 2006
LEGO to help "rebuild" NOLA schools...
This is a really cool bit of info. It caught my eye because Will is LEGO-obsessed, but I really think it is a cool idea.
Apparently LEGO will collect the bricks and make a brick-for-brick matching donation to New Orleans schools. Some of the donated bricks will be used to construct a model of the rebuilt city, as envisioned by local New Orleans children and kids across the country, to be donated to the city as a public work of art.
The website says this: "Through the LEGO Builders of Tomorrow program, children are encouraged to donate one or more of their LEGO bricks and send drawings, photos or notes describing something they think would help New Orleans become a strong city again. Each child who donates one or more of their bricks will receive a LEGO-studded rubber bracelet to recognize their contribution to the cause."
I just think it is really a great idea -- I think I'll talk to Will about it tonight and we'll pick out some of his to send along. I would love to feel like we were able to be a part of an outreach to the kids of New Orleans. Besides, it is really a chance to share some child-like joy and imagination to help resurrect some of the art and spirit of NOLA that still seems waterlogged even after all these months.
Sunday, April 02, 2006
bad mommy! bad!
Okay, yes. Yes! I do horrible, humiliating things to my children that they will hate me for when they are teenagers.
With Will I seemed to need to photograph his early bathing experiences ad nauseam, and with Adelaide, it appears I must put her in ridiculously cute costumes and make her submit to my photographic will.
But how did it happen? How did I become a mother exploiting the chubby cherubic baby girl I love? Well...it all just came together -- I got the diaper cover for like a quarter at a garage sale. And then, one fateful day at Target...it happened. I walked by the ever-tempting junk at the dollar spot and I saw them. Pink. Fuzzy. And ridiculously adorable.
It was just all laid out for me, right there...and then, I did it. I picked up the pink bunny ears and placed them on her head. And my conscience spoke to me. NO! it said. NO! This is wrong! You cannot do this to your daughter!
But then...well, there was an ever so slight giggle from behind me. I turned to see a woman looking adoringly at my daughter.
"I shouldn't," I said to her, pleading with her to agree with me. "I shouldn't...it's just wrong!"
She smiled. "I have three boys," she said, still smiling, but now with an ever so slight look of longing twinkling in her laughing eyes. "If I had a girl, I would do it, too."
And there. She had done it. Sealed my daughter's fate as a baby bunny frozen in photographic time. With only the 25 cent bunny diaper cover to beckon me, I was safe. I had bought it, yes, but it had sat, dormant, for a week. It was the ears that did it. The combination of the two...well, it was too potent for any mother to resist. Like muses from the Odyssey, they sang to me of the fleeting moments of babyhood, the cuteness that it would be, and the realization that no child at all aware of themselves would consent to such a photo. Poor Adelaide. I was just too weak to resist!
I suppose I could have just taken the photos and kept them to myself. I could have sat back, admired my work, and gone on with life. But alas, I am weak! The grandparents...they're so far away! Her aunt and uncle...they would just love to see this. And there it went. To my flickr page, and now, to my blog. I won't tell you all there are more photos of her like this if you go to the flickr page, though. That too would be wrong.
My consolation lies in the fact that one, she is a girl. This isn't Ralphie from "A Christmas Story" bedecked in pink fuzziness at the age of eight. And two...well...okay, maybe there isn't a number two. Maybe I just need to admit to myself that I have done it for my own satisfaction and be done with the guilt.
Or maybe I should store these away for when she's in high school and they ask for pictures of her as a baby for the obligatory section in her senior yearbook. I bet looking back then, I will be glad I did it.
At least that's what I'm telling myself now. Because I am glad now, really. I love it, and I am going to enjoy it. So no guilt, right? Just loving that I have a beautiful baby...who can't argue yet.
With Will I seemed to need to photograph his early bathing experiences ad nauseam, and with Adelaide, it appears I must put her in ridiculously cute costumes and make her submit to my photographic will.
But how did it happen? How did I become a mother exploiting the chubby cherubic baby girl I love? Well...it all just came together -- I got the diaper cover for like a quarter at a garage sale. And then, one fateful day at Target...it happened. I walked by the ever-tempting junk at the dollar spot and I saw them. Pink. Fuzzy. And ridiculously adorable.
It was just all laid out for me, right there...and then, I did it. I picked up the pink bunny ears and placed them on her head. And my conscience spoke to me. NO! it said. NO! This is wrong! You cannot do this to your daughter!
But then...well, there was an ever so slight giggle from behind me. I turned to see a woman looking adoringly at my daughter.
"I shouldn't," I said to her, pleading with her to agree with me. "I shouldn't...it's just wrong!"
She smiled. "I have three boys," she said, still smiling, but now with an ever so slight look of longing twinkling in her laughing eyes. "If I had a girl, I would do it, too."
And there. She had done it. Sealed my daughter's fate as a baby bunny frozen in photographic time. With only the 25 cent bunny diaper cover to beckon me, I was safe. I had bought it, yes, but it had sat, dormant, for a week. It was the ears that did it. The combination of the two...well, it was too potent for any mother to resist. Like muses from the Odyssey, they sang to me of the fleeting moments of babyhood, the cuteness that it would be, and the realization that no child at all aware of themselves would consent to such a photo. Poor Adelaide. I was just too weak to resist!
I suppose I could have just taken the photos and kept them to myself. I could have sat back, admired my work, and gone on with life. But alas, I am weak! The grandparents...they're so far away! Her aunt and uncle...they would just love to see this. And there it went. To my flickr page, and now, to my blog. I won't tell you all there are more photos of her like this if you go to the flickr page, though. That too would be wrong.
My consolation lies in the fact that one, she is a girl. This isn't Ralphie from "A Christmas Story" bedecked in pink fuzziness at the age of eight. And two...well...okay, maybe there isn't a number two. Maybe I just need to admit to myself that I have done it for my own satisfaction and be done with the guilt.
Or maybe I should store these away for when she's in high school and they ask for pictures of her as a baby for the obligatory section in her senior yearbook. I bet looking back then, I will be glad I did it.
At least that's what I'm telling myself now. Because I am glad now, really. I love it, and I am going to enjoy it. So no guilt, right? Just loving that I have a beautiful baby...who can't argue yet.
My friend Tanya's hilarious illo
Okay, I saw this today and I had to post it, because the bottom thing with the little boy and the cat is just sooooo Will! Now, I do have to say if this were Will and cousin Caroline at Ma and Gaggy's house, well...the cat would be pursued by two tormentors!
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