Ed's birthday in pictures

I saw another blogger do this and it looked like fun.
So now, I give you: Friday, March 7, 2008 -- a photojourney.

My recently-abandoned breakfast table. Joel made pancakes for the kids so I could sleep in a bit -- I was at the show last night until 1:30 AM.

Joel leaves for work and it's playtime!

Goofing around in the kids' room.

Birthday boy!

Birthdays make everyone angry!

Getting out the door.

Driving the four blocks to the Daly's. Will is screaming.

Lunchtime!

Yup, I'm looking a little rough.

Lucy holding court from her throne.

Back at our house -- Grampa and Grandma are coming!

And HERE THEY ARE!!!

The drama of making dinner

Cocktail hour on the couch

Auntie Jean goofing with the birthday boy

Never did muster the motivation to clean the house.

Backstage at High School Musical! That's the costumer talking with the director (cheerleader in foreground)

Music Director Extraordinaire, Annie Bossard!

The opening number, taken from the catwalk. Gooooo Wildcats!

Happy Birthday Pie oh My!

Eddie is 2 years old today!

I have grand plans to post a tearjerker of a note to him, but that probably won't happen, so in the meantime, hop on over to the archives and click on "2006" and then "March" and reminisce a bit.

"I two!"

LOL, today's special

Har-dee-har-har. That sound you hear is me chuckling half-heartedly at the bogus dinner I have planned for my family tonight.

- Leftover pork (it's like a week old. Grody.)
- Leftover chili (also ancient).
- Leftover bbq chicken (not old!)
- Leftover homemade pizza (from this afternoon only! It was lunch! The catch being, there's like, one slice left.)

There are about three different kinds of soups in the freezer too -- I suppose JG could reheat one of 'em. Ugh, what a sorry state of affairs.

The things they ate

Hey there! I've been hearing buzz that some people I know and care about are looking for meal ideas, so I think I might share what we're eating around here on a semi-regular basis.

Also because it might be a source of some comedy. We'll see.

A little pre-PS: I thought I had posted this and then I went and read the Madwoman's blog and thought, Oh good -- other people are jumping on the bandwagon! And then I went and found that I hadn't actually posted THIS yet, so... it turns out that I'm the bandwagon-jumper.

Last night I knew I was going to be gone from 3-10 PM, so I threw the following into my crockpot at about 10:00 AM:

- 1 sliced onion

- 3ish chicken "leg parts" (bought because they were on some crazy, 49-cents-per-pound deal -- I had to pull the skin off myself, but I like legs for their dark meat, and the bones give them extra flavor. The "leg parts" were drumsticks-attached-to-thighs, or what I would normally call "two pieces of chicken" apiece)

- 1 package onion soup mix (I cheated and had homemade some of this previously, for use in a meatball recipe. I blogged about it.)

- The leftover remains of all the barbecuey-flavored sauce that was taking up space in my fridge: it equaled about 1/2 bottle of Sweet Baby Ray's; about 1/2 cup of Famous Dave's Apricot Glaze; and a few tablespoons of Hoisin sauce.

I turned the crockpot on Low and let it sit about eight hours. I haven't actually eaten it yet, but Joel said it was decent.

On the side, Joel cut up some potatoes, mixed them with Parmesan, butter, and salt, and baked them in the oven. He also steamed up some frozen corn.

Sooo... the meal was a little starch-heavy but what are you going to do.

Tonight... more starches! Drat! We're doing breakfast-for-dinner as sort of a Hump Day treat. Also I can't really afford more groceries until a week from Friday and oops, I'm supposed to be throwing Ed a birthday party on Saturday.

"I don't wanna be up in the sky with diamonds."

A couple other Lucyisms for your enjoyment:

This morning:

Lu: "Momma, I'm going to be Eddie's mommy."

Me: "Hey wait! *I'm* Eddie's mommy!"

Lu: "No, I'm going to be his mommy when you die."

*pause*

Lu: "Who's going to be MY mommy when you die? Who's going to take care of me!?!?"

I don't think my response is necessarily worth noting, but just in case you were curious: I told Lucy that most likely I wouldn't die for a long, long time. But in case I did, Daddy could still take care of her and I would still *be* her momma even if I died. YIKES!!!

And yesterday, Lucy was running around, naked, at the Watson's house. Nicole and I had kinda thought about it and realized there was no reason the kids couldn't run around naked together, since they REALLY wanted to, and hers were already half-stripped.

Lu and one of the boys (sorry Nicole -- which was it?) disappeared around the corner and we overhead:

Watson Boy: Lucy, where's your peenie?

Lu: No, I don't have a peenie, I'm a girl.

Watson Boy: Ohhh. You have a China?

I know, I know, it can still get worse

Last night at rehearsal, the costumer (who is a truly lovely lady and fabulous at what she does) accidentally backed into my parked Corolla and ripped the back bumper about 75% off.

I mean, really?

Glimpse into my day

Actual conversation with Lucy, as I am trying to wash my hands after changing poopy diaper #4 on the day:

Lucy: Momma, I have to tell you something. MOMMA!

(I finally turn from my handwashing to look at her.)

Lu: He is BOTHERING me.

Me: Who?

Lu: HE! (She holds up a carrot)

Me: That carrot is bothering you?

Lu: No! That carrot is bothering HER!

Me: Who?

Lu: HER!! (She holds up a different carrot)

Me: That carrot is bothering that other carrot?

Most conversations in our house (that don't involve Lucy, but also some that do) these days are held in Eddie-speak. Example:

Me: A daddy! A home!

(Look, kids, Daddy is home)

Joel: A daddy! A home!

(Hey everybody, I'm Daddy and I'm home)

Me: A daddy -- a dinner? A eat?

(Are you hungry for dinner now, Joel?)

Joel: A no, no eat!

(No thanks, I had lunch late; we can wait a while.)

Me: A clock! A wall! A up?

(Well, in that case, could you hang that new clock up on the wall now maybe please?)

Joel: A screwdriver! A gone?

(Dang it, where did I put my screwdriver?)

Just to make you all jealous... Lucy and I just made THESE little nuggets of heaven. Ohhhhhhmmm. A good!

Mostly, I am pleasant

Okay, so I know it was, like, 13 degrees this morning with an absolutely wicked windchill... but I'm feeling pretty good. The boys are napside, Lucy is island-side... sorta... I have meals planned for the week (well, for today and tomorrow, anyway), the sun is shining, the tank is clean...

THE TANK IS CLEAN!

So, I'm thinking the meals is from whence my funk has been coming. I've been eating garbage: Takeout... sweets... cereal-for-dinner at 11 PM. And sugar cereal at that. No jubbaloes. SODA. And I've been feeling ROTTEN.

And I was doing so well! For months! And then, with all my activities, I got less-than-diligent about packing myself a dinner for my double-rehearsal nights. I bought the stupid sugar cereals that only cause a Serious Riot in the house when I try to eat them because the kids want to eat them too, only I really don't want them to eat them, and did I mention I'm not a morning person? And I'm not kidding I was eating some Caramel Crunch cereal on Saturday and I almost gagged, it was disgustingly sweet. And I have a giant sweet tooth.

So I'm going to start working a little more on planning what I eat. I think it's better for me, and I think it's going to make me feel better. Or that's the theory for the day.

This kind of made my day. How do I post an actual video? Gaaaah!

And Sundays are supposed to be happy days!

I thought, at long last, I could finally pull myself out of this GIANT FUNK I have been in for the last, oh, I dunno, month or so, by flinging myself into some housework and maybe getting to the bottom of some of these giant piles of crap that have collected in every possible nook and cranny of my house.

So I squeezed some toilet-cleaner into the toiley and scrubbed like mad, checked the clock, and strode confidently into the kitchen, determined to handwash the five or twelve must-be-handwashed items that are ALWAYS sitting in the sink, now that we don't have to handwash everything anymore. I go to plug the drain, and... wiggle. Huh? Umm... Joel? Can you come here for a second? Is the drain supposed to have come entirely unglued from the sink and be bopping around in there? Foiled again.

I swear, I am feeling like we just can't catch a break. Sure, it's 40 degrees out and as I retrieved the paper from the sidewalk this morning because the Pioneer Press's "front step guarantee!" is a load of hogwash, I thought, YES! maybe we can actually take the kids on a walk this afternoon! -- but it's actually raining. And the snow has melted just enough for Lake Gronau (the giant 3" deep puddle spanning the sidewalk which happens to be the only way to get to our garage from the house) to form, as it does every spring. And of course when the temp dips below freezing, Lake Gronau becomes Ice Sheet Gronau, and then I get to choose between walking through the snow and getting wet feet, and taking my chances on the ice sheet -- extra-sketchy, since I'm typically carrying at least one child and twelve bags every time I go out.

And I have a large mirror living on my stairs because I can't hang it on the wall because we tried to stop by Home Depot to get a couple hanging-brackets and both kids completely freaked out and were screaming in the store and this was after Eddie had stuck his hand in a totally disgusting puddle of some mysterious milky substance on the shopping cart.

And Joel's cell phone has gone missing again. Like, seriously? Did I tell you about this? First I lost my phone (and purse). Got it all back within an hour or so... but in the process, I lost Joel's phone. Got that back about three weeks later... but then he couldn't find his charger for another month or so. He just found the charger last week.
And promptly lost the cell phone again today.

And, like, we had to go buy new cordless phones... and even our kitchen clock chose this week to give up the ghost. And my computer keeps shutting down at random, with no warning.

And did I mention I'm in a FUNK!?!?

MWF ISO TPR

So once, not that long ago, I made a recipe and I think it was called Tamale Pie, which is a popular name and style of recipe... and the distinguishing characteristics of it were:

1. The ground beef got cooked at the same time as the tomatoes, onions, etc -- it seemed almost too easy but it turned out extra-delicious.
2. The tamale breading part was a little sweet.

HELP! I can't find it anywhere. It was soooo yummy.

So at ECFE on Wednesday, the leader (Mary Ann) mentioned that she had been watching Ed do something (she didn't say what) and was about to correct him, when she "realized he's only two." (To which I quickly replied that he is, in fact, only one for another nine days but please don't let me interrupt your thoughts or anything.) She went on to explain that when your children are way bigger (or way smaller) than other kids their ages, people can have incorrect expectations about what their behavior will be like. Ed, she informed me, looks like a three-year-old. I knee-jerk denied it, but some of the other moms were nodding and mentioning that Ed was indeed taller than other almost-three-year-old boys in class. And I was, like, oh holy cow, they're right -- and I didn't see it because Lucy is also an Amazon. They're proportionate to each other, sure, but I probably should have noticed that Ed is suddenly wearing 3T clothes.

This is all well and good, but it kind of hit me like a ton of bricks. I've never before had to worry about my kids' development. And I was never especially small or large for my age; and I was for sure a "late bloomer" when it came to boys and social maturity. Joel, on the other hand, was his current 5'11" in fifth grade. And it ought to come as no surprise that the kids inherited many of his physical genes.

So the other morning the kids were making noise in their room, so I lumbered downstairs and opened their door. I had brought Lucy with me to HSM rehearsal the night before.

"Mommy," Lucy says, "That show was great. Thank you for taking me."

Before I could scrape my jaw up off the tops of my feet, Lucy sneezed.

"Bless you, Eddie," said Eddie.

Still bewildered at where these polite little people came from, I said, "Bless you Lucy!"

"Thank you!" said Eddie.

Speaking of the show, during rehearsal I had to take Lu to the bathroom, where she found all kinds of delight in the automatic flusher. Something about the smallness of her body on the toilet must freak out the sensor, or something -- it flushed six or seven times while she was in there. The first time surprised her. The second time scared her a little. After the third, her eyes got really wide and she said "A hundred flushes!?!?" And after that it was a fit of shrieking-giggles every time. The soap and water are automatic in there, too -- Lucy must have thought she'd stepped onto the set of The Jetsons or something. If she'd ever seen The Jetsons, that is. Now that you mention it, I don't think I've even ever seen The Jetsons. Not that I'm complaining.

Is anybody going to listen to my story?

Jean's going to blog about Across the Universe, if she hasn't already. Awesome movie -- rent it!

I was SO happy to see "Falling Slowly" (from Once) win best song at the Oscars last night. Such a great moment.

It's Monday, which I suppose is inevitable. Lucy has bitten Ed already this morning, and he's pulled her hair. Lots of tears -- but none of them mine, which is a nice change.

Gotta get the boys down for naps -- that is, if William will finish eating! He's the only one who will touch these egg muffins I made, so I suppose I should be grateful.

Ed loves to play Hide and Seek and counts like this:
"One, Zee, Eight, Sen! Ready I come!!"

I'm really letting myself go

I'm eating an orange... and I'm not even bothering to pick off all the white stuff. What's next -- wearing the same underwear three days in a row?

Oh, wait, I'm already doing that.

My folks are visiting this weekend (weather permitting) and we haven't seen them since Christmas. Wayyy too long! I miss my mommy and daddy. It's nice for Joel to have a little deadline to work on some of the trim in the kitchen (not like he has any time before that deadline to accomplish anything, but still, a deadline is nice).

Speaking of my parents, I think they will be delighted with the job they did when they read that my latest Serious Pet Peeve is being lied to. I think I vaguely remember my mom telling me that lying to someone is pretty much the worst thing you can do. And I've thought about it and you know, I think she really had something there.

Now I know a couple people with the tendency, when put under a little bit of pressure, to fib. It's weird, because I can tell when they're doing it. And I'm not intuitive at all. When there's a kid crying in the next room during Moms' Time at ECFE, I can NEVER tell whether it's mine. OK, that might just be an example of poor hearing. But, like, not ONCE have I had a "bad feeling" about something that actually turned out to be serious. I've never had a bad dream come true -- just the other night I dreamed that a series of tidal waves kept smashing into me and Lucy and Ed on the beach, and for sure there has been nothing even resembling a tidal wave in St Paul. So there!

But sometimes, these fibs, they are obvious. Then there's the times they aren't obvious... and then when I discover the truth I feel like the idiot. There's not much that rankles me more than being made to feel like an idiot. This probably stems from 7th grade when the Cool Girls were talking about their periods, and I thought they were talking about smoking, and they said "What we're talking about has nothing to do with you" and I said "YEAH? AND IT NEVER WILL EITHER!" and when you're in 7th grade, there is certainly nothing humorous about self-effacement, especially in regards to delayed puberty. Now? My lack of breasts is comedy. Then? Devastating tragedy. Where was I?

Right, lying. So I make it a point to tell the truth, even when, on the surface, it might seem easier to tell a little white lie. And if you can muster up the courage to do the same, I would truly appreciate it.

Loving my 3-year-old... and then changing my mind

I'm sitting at my new desk, on the chair that's a little too short for it I think, and Lucy is peeling an orange herself (a newfound skill). All of a sudden she hollers "I HAVE TO SIT ON THE POTTY WIFFYOU!" (as she does) and dashes off through the kitchen. She makes it into the hall but, lord love 'er, her little reflexes aren't fully developed and she skids right past the turn to the bathroom and winds up in the middle of the living room, a little dazed, unable to figure out what the heck she's doing in the living room.

We retrace our steps and get to the bathroom door, which is shut because I shut it because I tried to call my sister and about three seconds later I found both Lucy and Ed STANDING ON THE TOILET and Will standing on the floor right beneath them and I thought, you know what? I oughtta keep the bathroom door closed, anyway so Lucy and I get to the bathroom door and she comes to a dead stop and turns to me and says, "Is somebody IN there?" and I was all, "Who on EARTH could possibly be IN there?" and she just thinks that's the silliest thing in the world.

And she's wearing that blue-striped sweater that for some reason brings out this gorgeous blue in her eyes.

But then she drops baby Will's cell phone on the floor ... again ... LOUDLY, and Eddie starts crying in his room because he's so unbelievably tired because he was boppin' around in his crib until 11:00 last night and then woke up shouting "CEREAL!" at 7AM. And I'm all, "It's time for your island, Lu."

I'm going to make some spinach-carrot brownies. Ick.

Walk hard (it's laminate!)

This morning as I was trying to take care of some bid'ness (checking my email quick before ECFE), Lucy grabbed Will's toy cell phone and started shouting into it:

"Christopher! Christopher I CAN'T! Don't call me back! Eating food is not eating food! Nothing is left! But you told me that everyone's going to eat peanut butter! Do you understand me? NO, CHRISTOPHER!! 'BYE!"

Strange child.


So I was supposed to teach three dance classes on Wednesday nights through St Paul Parks and Rec. Beginning swing dancing, beginning Latin dancing, and a beginning jazz dance class. I have ZERO people signed up for any of them. I know this because I checked the internet registration site.

This is super aggravating, for a number of reasons.

1. I have taught the swing and Latin classes before and had dozens of signups.


2. Back when that happened, St Paul Parks and Rec was actually sending printed class catalogs to every household in the city. Due to budget cuts, they now print brochures that are available ONLY at the rec sites themselves. They also list the classes on the internet... if you know where to look.

2a. Even if you know where to look, the web site is extremely difficult to navigate. Here it is: https://www.reservemaster.com/1w4x_saintpaul/program_search.asp

It took me several tries and two phone calls to the director to find MY OWN classes. Here, I'll give you a shot at it. Go there and look for an adult swing dance class on Wednesday nights at Hazel Park Rec Center. See how you can select a "Corridor" but then you can also select a "Location"? Confusing. See how the "Age Group" options include "Teen/Adult (13 and up)" but also "Adult (18 and up)"? And how, if you select the Teen/Adult option you don't get any of the classes listed as "Adult"? See how the default session at the bottom is "Winter" but some classes are actually listed under "Spring" only? See how you can choose "Music, Dance, and Theatre" but there are some dance classes listed instead under "Health and Fitness"? ARRRRGH!

3. St Paul Parks & Rec is completely separate from St Paul Community Education. But Community Ed holds all the same type of classes... and they still send out catalogs!

4. Now try registering online. All right, maybe they've fixed it since I tried to register for something last September -- now that I think of it, in Aggravation #2a I forgot to mention that they did fix some of my classes' internet-search programming to make it a little more intuitive.

In a way, I'm relieved not to have to teach the classes. But it's really frustrating to think there's so much opportunity for the Parks and Rec department, but NOBODY can figure out about the registration procedure.


To take my mind off it, here are some pix of the kitchen... with floor!!

From just inside the new back door:


From the hallway:


From the old back door:


Those crazy Watson boys! (This is Will):


My angels:

Si se pueden

See, I would have thought "Yes we can" in Spanish would've been "Si, podemos." Which is why I speak English.

PS I can't figure out how to make an accent mark. Gaaaah!

So, I've had no internets for the last fourish days. I'm back.

Ed's developed this habit, nay, compulsion of carrying one small toy in each hand. Cars, animals, Barney, whatever he can find.

Lucy has started writing songs. Complex songs, mostly about her day and random other things that have come up. She also talks a lot about her invisible friend, Arizona (sometimes "Ellerzona"), who has died. Or sometimes it's Eller's mother who has died. Morbid little child. I'm guessing she watches too many Disney movies.

This afternoon Lucy asked for a kitten. She promised to take care of it. I can't believe this is starting already.

While I was internetsless, I started some incomplete thoughts which I will now publish. Seriously incomplete. Here goes:


I was reading the Bulletin Board in the Pioneer Press the other day and someone wrote in about how their parents didn't raise them to sit around and watch people work.

Now, I'm not saying my parents DID raise me to sit around and watch people work, but I think they may have enabled me. My parents and many others of their generation are exceptional workers. They show up somewhere and immediately pitch right in and workworkwork. There's a grandma/volunteer at ECFE who, during snacktime, zips around the table, asking kids if they want more snack or refilling water cups. Pushes in chairs, sweeps the floor, BUSTLES. I sit back and observe, holding my little bowl of Goldfish crackers, waiting for one of the munchkins to start looking hungry.

I strive to be a worker. I am not a worker. At our church there's lots of setup and takedown to do: stacking and moving of chairs, packing of things into boxes, folding tables, packing up the nursery fixin's. Joel manages to dive in and make himself useful. I kind of stand there, oscillating, trying to figure out what I can work on. I don't know if I'm afraid to mess it up, or if I just lack the ability to SEE what job I ought to tackle.

I don't LIKE sitting around and watching people work -- but I'm not a self-starter. You give me a task and I will totally do it... but I kind of want to be told. I'm REALLY good at taking direction; not so good at occupying myself in a way that others might find valuable.

So, I sorta resent being judged as a nonworker, especially when seriously? I spent the entire weekend working. Hard. I know that putting the DVDs back on the shelf for the mazillionth time isn't technically "cleaning" since there isn't any dirt involved. I know that folding sheets the right way (meaning the one way that will make it so they will all actually fit inside the linen closet without exploding into my face every time I go in there to grab a washcloth) probably seems like a waste of time, but I assure you it is necessary for the functioning of the household.

I kinda lost track of what I was talking about.


Well anyway, it's as good a time as any for a couple plugs. I'm sure you know this but I'm choreographing a production of "High School Musical". We open March 7 and run through most of March. It's going to be really good and you should definitely buy your tickets ASAP!!

Ashland is also sponsoring a show featuring Laura Osnes, the gal who won the TV show "Grease: You're The One That I Want" last year and is currently starring on Broadway as Sandy. Laura played Dorothy in Ashland's "Wizard of Oz" several years ago, and since Broadway is dark on Mondays, Ashland is flying her in for one night on Monday, Feb. 25. Some of the youth show choir groups I work with will be performing that night, as well. Tickets are $35 -- come see a real-life Broadway star in person!

Also, I haven't talked much about this yet, but Joel and the kids and I have started going to a teeny little church and we are really getting so much out of it. It's called HopeSpring and if you are at all searching for a church or some spirituality, I encourage you to come to a 9:30 AM Sunday service at the White Bear Lake Armory. HopeSpring is the antimegachurch -- typical attendance on Sunday is about 15 people (including Lucy and Eddie). Our dear friends Cara and Alley Joel first invited us (Alley Joel is the pastor's cousin) and Joel and I have been surprised and amazed at how much we are learning and growing in our faith.


Joel asked me to share an Eddie story from this evening: we were all eating the bean & ham soup I made for dinner. Ed was eating the soup with his fingers, of course -- he's exceptionally tactile. He grabbed a giant piece of ham in his fist (like only a not-quite-2-year-old boy can do) and declared, "Mmm, good! CHICKEN! Bawck-bawck-bawck!" and started pumping his right elbow up and down (in a one-armed version of the universal sign for "chicken," of course).

Ham, Eddie, it's ham. Pig. Oink.

"Uh-good!"

I'm no electrician...

...but I'm guessing this is some kind of code violation:

That gray plug on the far left is for the STOVE, ladies and germs. And yes, that's the toaster on the floor. Yeesh. Most of the time I keep this entire power-strip setup covered with the lid from my biggest roasting pan, just to make sure the kids don't electrocute themselves.

Here's a little "before-and-after" action with the new tile, hardware, and countertop (OK so you can't really see the countertop):

BEFORE

AFTER

I like how the mess in either picture is exactly the same in volume but totally different in composition. I can almost tell what I'm making for dinner in each shot, if I really think about it.

Also, the tile has since been grouted. And I am hoping for electrical outlets tonight maybe!!

Here's the dining room. Yes, that blue is the actual color. I wanted it to be "soothing." I dunno.

Here's a pic from inside the dining room, toward the new back door and the kitchen:

And here's one from just inside the new back door. I think the point of this one was to show the color of the walls. Or something:

This picture is really just for Bridget: doesn't Ryan have the same jammies as Ed here?

I miss this weather.

Hi there, excuse me, could I just have my old brain back please?

We were in church yesterday and Ed shouted at the top of his lungs: "GOD GOD GOD GOD GOD."

And Friday night Jean and I took the kids swimming, and on the way home Lucy said, "Mommy turn on some music!"
And Jean and I were sorta talking so I sorta ignored my daughter. Not five seconds later Lucy said "Mommy I'm STARVING."
I didn't even have enough time to take the breath I was going to take to answer her when I heard, in her I'm going to say something cute now tone, "I'm STARVING for some MUSIC."

OK so seriously, we are having some major whining issues with Lucy. "I need you to HOLD ME. I need you to CARRY ME. I need you to FEED ME." ALL the TIME. She still has her sweet side, but I feel like we see it less and less often. I tried explaining to her that even though she isn't "a baby" anymore, she'll always be MY baby and I will always love her so much. And that even though Baby Will is around a lot and requires my attention, I'm not his mommy but I AM LUCY'S mommy. And she is still my baby even if I can't treat her like a baby much anymore.

She responds with tears, saying "Mommy, this baby still needs to be carried."

And here I'd thought referring to yourself in the third person went out with Terrell Owens.

Saturday Joel started tiling our backsplash, in the cobalt-blue tile of my dreams that reminds me of Spain and makes me so happy... and that also happens to be a quarter of the cost of the blue-glass tile I'd originally had my eye on. He took a break at 10AM and we went to the St Paul School Fair down at the Roy Wilkins Auditorium at the RiverCenter. We confirmed that Lu can't start in one of the St Paul Public Schools' (SPPS) 4-year-old programs for another year and a half (because her birthday is September 2 and the cutoff is September 1). They don't do any early enrollment for the 4-y-o programs, but weirdly, she COULD get admitted to Kindergarten early if we wished (so essentially she could skip the 4-yr program entirely).

I don't really wish, but I do see her playing with Nathan down the street and with Paige Lier, who are both going to be TWO years ahead of her in school, and ... I just wonder if we'll be holding her back. I'm entirely sure we're going to stick with our guns and keep her back the year; I hate to have her be the last one in her class to get her drivers license, and I especially hate to have her always struggling to keep up.

The one thing I was really impressed with was the variety of options through SPPS. They have several language-immersion schools... a World-Cultures magnet school... a year-round school... an "open" school where K-12 all mixes together... a couple Montessori options... an aerospace magnet... a school just for gifted kids... and (my favorite!) a Creative Arts school where the kids learn everything through music, dance, and theatre. They had videos and photos of the kids playing the part of waves, molecues, and light beams. It sounds seriously awesome. WAY better than sitting behind a desk all day. I'm feeling better and better about our decision to stay in St Paul. I know our school decisions are going to be way more time-consuming and challenging than they would be if we lived in the 'burbs, but I think the opportunities for enrichment are far greater. I'm kind of excited!

Whoops, back to work, Will is here! Bring on the patty-cake!

...and where is that Hole In The Head I ordered off Amazon?!?

Yesterday Ed got a bit of frostnip on his fingers because it took me more than three stinkin minutes to get little Will strapped into his car seat on the way to ECFE.

Last night I got pulled over (actually NOT for speeding, honestly!) because the tabs on my Corolla are 5 months expired. And then I couldn't find any current proof of insurance anywhere in the car.

And this afternoon I ran the dishwasher and I now have two kitchen-sinkfuls of disgusting water that is absolutely not going anywhere.

I was about to ask that nice Obama supporter who came to the door today if she would give me a nice paper cut and then pour lemon juice into it. I would thank God it's Friday, except that means that a plumber is going to cost, like, $600 instead of $200 like it might normally.

It's hard being a grownup!

or...

You're Asking Too Much of Me.

I just can't keep up. There is not enough time in the world to complete all the tasks I am being asked to complete -- to research all the issues and all the concerns I have -- to implement all the advice and ideas and suggestions and recommendations that are being fired at me from every direction.

Today at ECFE I got a very nice yet very serious talking-to about how when I sit down to draw next to Lucy, and she asks me to "draw a princess" or "draw me" I should NOT draw those things for her, but only draw in the same manner she is capable of drawing. Essentially, scribbles and curves and the occasional almost-circle.

I get it. I get why I am being asked to do this. I get that she's going to think she "can't draw as well as Mommy can" and grow up to think she "can't draw," period, and that somehow that's going to screw her up for life.

But WHEN DO I GET TO DRAW?!?! What am I supposed to do, draw in secret and then hide all my drawings from the children so they don't think I'm holding them up to an impossible standard? Should I also never ever sing or dance with the children, lest they think they can't sing or dance as well as I can? Should I never take the kids to an art museum because it's going to ruin their self-confidence? Or is that OK, because I'm "leaving art to the professionals"? I am having serious problems with this and this is where I think there may have been some misunderstanding: Lucy was drawing her own picture, and I was drawing MY own picture. I wasn't drawing a picture for Lucy, so she could get out of drawing her own picture. I was drawing, and Lucy was drawing, and we were both making perfectly good drawings. I'm no Rembrandt. But I like to draw, so that's what we were doing. Together. And if she grows up and thinks she can't draw then that is something she is going to have to deal with on her own. I grew up, and when I draw something I can look at it and say "Yup, it actually does look like a house/dog/dolphin/cat/whatever. I am not the worst drawer ever." Because I overall think I'm good enough in this life. And I don't think sitting next to Lucy and scribbling, because she's at a developmental stage where she scribbles, is going to help her in any way realize that she's good enough. I have a lot of other ways I'm going to help her realize that she's good enough. Well, I hope.

Now that she's back in the atmosphere...

I have a seriously quick three seconds to blog while Will sleeps and my kids eat Second Breakfast:

Happy Tuesday! It's sooooo good to be back in our own house, sleeping in our own beds, eating our own foods! Oh how I missed our own foods. I missed my coffee-with-raw-sugar-and-half-and-half, and I missed my oatmeal-with-raisins-dates-and-walnuts with the dates and walnuts sliced just so with my very own kitchen shears. I missed my own pots and pans and my Peru coffee mugs and I missed my creaky floors and my own alarm clock and I especially missed being able to run around my own house without worrying about disturbing any downstairs neighbors. Though to be honest with you, there could very easily be a colony of hobos in my basement, and I would never know -- it's a bit cluttered down there yet.

As I type, Lucy and Ed are fighting over a box of cereal -- there is one stupid drawing of a fish on the back of it and they both want to press their noses up against it. I mean, honestly.

Happy Belated Birthdays to Alison and Nikki!

Recap before rehearsal

Best wishes to my friend Heather who, assuming all went to plan, delivered her new baby boy this morning. Welcome New Baby!

It's 2:50 PM on Thursday, and I am actually reasonably certain it's Thursday, and I am happy to say it also feels like 2:50 PM. I think the kids and I never quite adjusted to California time, because we have rolled right back into our old Minnesota schedules. Including Lucy awakening in the middle of the night to go to the bathroom. Which is odd, considering during the 10 nights of living with Jean and 7 nights of vacation, she got up in the middle of the night... exactly once the entire time. Go figure. Both kids are napping (Lucy's in my bed, where I'd been attempting-but-failing to nap myself). The contractor and his dude are in our kitchen -- and WE HAVE APPLIANCES, ladies and gentlemen! And I actually witnessed water coming out of my kitchen faucet. It's a Christmas miracle.

So what I didn't actually get to say when I was posting all those photos is, we had a wonderful time in California. We flew into LAX at 11PM last Wednesday, and the kids were champs on the flight (Lucy slept and Ed happily watched Lady & the Tramp). We rented our car and drove down to Lake Forest (about an hour) where our hotel room was waiting for us, along with a lovely gift bag from the Morrows. The room was perfect for us -- 2 queen beds set off from the living area by a pocket door. The hotel was sufficiently shabby to give it some character, but certainly clean enough to keep us all from breaking out in hives. And the free breakfast was eggy and crispy-hashbrowny and the coffee was strong and we were so happy for the sunshine and the shirtsleeves.

We drove over to Alison and her family's house and met her husband and daughter and let the kids play in the yard for a bit. Alison and I remarked that we hadn't seen each other but maybe 4 times since high school -- but she hadn't changed one iota (except for being about 30 weeks pregnant!) and I remembered why I became her friend in the first place: because she is funny and sweet and easy-going and for some reason I love her hand gestures.

The Morrows took us over to Alison's parents' house (her dad is Lee Strobel) and it was great to see her folks again. We went out to dinner and the next day we went to Laguna Beach where Lu and Ed and Joel and I frolicked in the sand like a bunch of total idiots. Ed chased seagulls and Lucy picked up all kinds of "bee-ful" shells and rocks.

On Friday night we drove down to La Jolla to stay at the Strobels' condo. In the next couple of days we went to the San Diego Zoo (a really beautiful zoo with reasonable kids-lunch-package deals), Legoland (a surprisingly fun if unbelievably dirty kiddie amusement park -- Lucy LOVED the rides, got to drive her own car, and only hit her limit on a roller coaster that was a little thriling even for me: midway through the ride Lucy says, "Mommy I have to tell you something" and I said "OK what?" (Mind you we are zipping aroundandabout on this thing) "Is this ride for kids? I don't really like it."), and the beach (Carol, we did find the seals at the last possible moment before we were leaving! They were awesome!!).

This morning as the kids were eating their delivered Jimmy Johns, Lucy asked why mommies have babies instead of daddies. I said that mommies have a special place inside, next to their tummies, called a uterus, that's just for making babies, and daddies don't have one. I asked if that made sense, and she nodded and said "Yes!" and then she thought for a moment before asking, "Do I have a uterus?" I assured her she did.

But hooo, boy, there's trouble on the horizon. For ME.

PS! Next week I start taking care of my friend Tricia's little boy during the day. So, pretty much, there will be no more blogging. ;) Until I get my act together.

The kitchen

Ok, so the first three are taken from the doorway that goes from the living room into the kitchen. In the first pic you can see the hole where the dishwasher will go.

Here's the hole where the fridge is going... as well as my new little "to-go" desk.

Here's the desk again as well as the large hole for the new back door.

This is our new dinig room! AKA Ed's former bedroom. This photo was taken from just inside the new back door.

This is also taken from inside the new back door. The island's countertops aren't done yet; the big hole in the island is for the stove.

Home again, if this is what one calls "home"

I think I'm getting a headache.

We're home!

Our new cabinets are gorgeous. Looking forward to acquiring some appliances between 10:30 AM and 12:30 PM today. Looking forward even more to having the hot water turned back on... and to figuring out what the heck happened to our home phone line.

I have no idea how I'm going to feed the kids lunch today. Here's what we have in the house for food:
1 small ziploc bag of pretzels
1/2 loaf whole wheat bread
1 container (6 oz) Yoplait Passionfruit yogurt
3/4 gallon milk
3 cans Coors Light
1 bottle (16 oz) grape syrup

...Wait, Jimmy John's delivers, right?? YESS!






Alison and me, in her folks' backyard



Abby and Lu, putting around


Joel and Ed on Laguna Beach



Ed finds a kindred spirit


In happier times


Ed chasing a pigeon. "Umback eeer!"


On a beach in LaJolla

Hangin' tough

Hey everybody! I'm so sorry, I don't even know what day it is. I had to sign something for the kids yesterday and I went to date it and couldn't even guess the date. The computer is telling me it's the 11th so I'm guessing that must be accurate within one or two days... right?

The first couple dance rehearsals for High School Musical went pretty well -- maybe even great! I am only a little behind where the director wants me to be as far as finishing all the dances in Act I before I go on vacation. I am having SO much fun with the kids; we worked on some partner-stunting activities last night (flips, lifts, double-cartwheels, etc.) and laughed a lot. And I'm really pleased with how the dances are coming out visually. It's hard with such a large cast (41 kids!) to make sure everyone gets a chance to try everything. And by "hard" I mean "impossible." There are almost twice as many girls as boys (of course -- welcome to theatre), so the girls who are not extremely vocal and outgoing often kind of sift toward the back wall and disappear. I regret that, but I know that they will have to learn to stand up for themselves. I remember learning the same thing in high school -- if you hang out in the back for rehearsals, you will wind up in the back for the performances.

Speaking of which, if you would like to buy advance tickets for High School Musical at a nice discount, please email me and I'll set you up with the info. Tix go on sale to the general public on Jan 17 (next Thursday) via www.ashlandproductions.com.

The kids and I are still at Jean's. Joel has been working like a white-mouthed Mississippi mule at the house -- Joel saw Ed awake-and-not-strapped-into-a-car-seat for the first time in 5 days this morning. The walls are still torn out but the sheetrock/drywall is going up as I type. We have our new back door framed in, and the electricity is all set to have walls put up around it. I swung by the other day and saw the little blue boxes where my new outlets are going to go (you may remember that I had been running an entire kitchen on ONE functional outlet) and I got a little misty. And, living at Jean's, I've been getting quite used to having a dishwasher and let me tell you, having my own is going to make me a very happy woman.

Ed's had kind of a nasty cold all week (which didn't preclude us from taking him to ECFE; my apologies to the other kids, but seriously I had to get out of the house) and Lucy has taken an vow to wear her big blue pretty dress for five days. And nights, since she's worn it to bed the last two nights. We're on Day Three. It's got a giant hole torn in the lining but for love or money I cannot get her to take it off.

Jean's in Chicago for the weekend. I was going to take the kids, too, but at almost the last possible moment a broken-hearted-sounding Joel called to say he was finishing his chores at the house and if we could just not get on the plane he could spend almost the whole weekend with us as a family.

I'm taking a Day of Rest here at Jean's... the kids are parked in front of Sesame Street and I'm going to try to organize some of our personal flotsam and jetsom. Is that how you spell that?

A series of mini-vacations

That's how Jean has summed up the Life of Gronau in January, 2008. Here's a more accurate description:
Hobos!
Transients!
Vagabonds!

Saturday morning I piled up the kids and drove up to Oak Grove where Becky and Adam were housesitting for Adam's sister's family's gorgeous abode. We sledded (I hope Beck will post pix, it was hilarious!) and napped (well, the kids) and I choreographed while Becky made homemade Buca-di-Beppo (AKA "Becky-di-Beppo). The Dalys and Mathews arrived later and we drank, dined, and delighted in each other and in our adorable progeny. Joel, meanwhile, tore out the north and west walls of our kitchen, right on down to the 60-year-old studs (I'm going to get some oldie-porn hits for that, I'm sure) and insulation.

Joel drove up later and we Gronaus spent the night, overstaying our welcome in the morning and skipping church. When we got back to our house around noon, it quickly became apparent that we couldn't hang out there much longer -- with the basement as the only dust-free place, we decided I should take the kids over to Jean's house.

Which I did! And here we are. The weird thing about being here is that when Jean's at work and the kids are napping (as they are, bless their poor little homeless hearts), I am bored senseless. There's no laundry, no dishes, and no cooking (I toted over the entire contents of our fridge, since our fridge's circuit was busted in the demo). Jean has a lot of reading material on hand, fortunately. I started reading "Princess Bride" again -- awesome book.

Soooo... here we sit. Oh! Lucy started her new tumbling class this morning. Super-cute, though Ed was devastated that he couldn't join in. You should email me, or comment, or something. 'Cuz it's a little lonely.

Head on the table, I like shirt

Today one of the teachers in Lucy's room caught me after class and said, "Your daughter is a riot." This was not news to me. But apparently today they were pouring out juice for the kids, and the pitcher was getting kind of low and some of the kids were starting to clamber to make sure they got their juice before it ran out. Lucy sat back and said: "There's a lot of juice. I'm not going to worry about it."

We tried Alison's "Island" idea with Lu yesterday during naptime and it worked out all right -- she spent about 45 minutes playing alone in the basement, then she came upstairs and delivered the address from yesterday's post, and then she went back down and snuggled in on the couch to watch "High School Musical" and fell right asleep for about an hour and a half. See, this is what gets me: she does still need a nap sometimes. Today she actually requested "The Island" so she's in the basement again. So far, not so bad. Although she did just come upstairs to go potty, and I reminded her there was actually a potty in the basement. She atragott.

Lucy has written a song.

Head on the table, meat and cheese.
Head on the table, pen and cup.
Head on the table, I like sleeves.
Head on the table, chair and hot.

So, Mozart she ain't. But it sort of rhymes... sort of. And it's kinda taken on new life in our house as a mild expletive: Ed spilled his milk again?! Head on the table!!

Reasons why she can't go downstairs and have some quiet time while Mommy cleans up the kitchen

"For one, I have to get a drink of water.
For two, I have to work on my computer.
For three, I don't really know what's going on.
For four, I don't have any work to do.
For thirty-nine, I have to go somewhere."

I can't remember... is this "normal"?

Happy New Year everybody! Welcome to Chaos in the Gronau home. It's de- and con- struction season!

Last week we moved Ed out of his beloved old bedroom and in with Lucy. Nights have been going great -- they have been singing each other to sleep, and then sleeping well. Naptime is another story; Lucy is eschewing naps almost entirely and Ed has been suffering the consequences. It's going to be fine as soon as I can figure out what on earth to DO with Lu for three hours in the afternoon, while I try to make dinner, do laundry, sip tea and whatnot. But really, the nights have been a breeze. For the most part.

Lucy: "Let me tell you a story about sleeping."

Me: "OK, go ahead."

Lucy: "Eddie said 'Mama, Mama, Daddy.' And I went to sleep. But I don't think he stopped."

Joel took up our generic-Pergo kitchen floor on Friday or maybe it was Saturday. He started horking into it during breakfast, and I asked, "Is this really the best time to be doing this?" since the kids and I had just sat down to our cereal/"See-YO!".

Joel paused with crowbar and hammer in hand.

Lucy took a beat to look at Joel. Then a beat to look back at me. "Mommy, I think you're right," she said. "But I think he's going to do it anyway."

Sunday, Joel dropped the kids off with his parents and then we started knocking down the kitchen wall, with assistance from the Lovely and Talented Jean.

And old-but-serviceable "before" shot of the wall.

Joel, with the wall halfway down.

Monday we cleaned up a bit and then went skiing with the Alleys at Afton Alps. I really love to ski and wish we could do it more than once a year. We rang in 2008 at the chalet with one very modest plastic glass of champagne, wolfed down the First Mini-Tacos of 2008, and were home in bed by 1:30. A low-key NYE but just perfect. No skiing injuries either, which is a double-bonus and I think Joel had only one wipeout, on the first run of the night (that is unless you count the multiple times he and Alley Joel got tangled up in each other while dismounting the chair lift. Alley Joel on a snowboard is dangerous and hilarious).

The wall all cleared out. The plastic makes it hard to visualize. Recognize that floor?

Today, we mopped sheetrock-dust out of the kitchen all morning until the Gronaus dropped off the kids around 1PM. Joel goes back to work tomorrow for the first time in what seems like a month. We slowly swing back into our regularly scheduled activities... I still have a mostly-functioning kitchen (for the next few days, anyway -- the cabinets and sheetrock are going away this coming Saturday) and we leave on vacation in just over 2 weeks! Yikes!

Blogging will be light for the next several weeks because the kids and I are going to move in with Jean next week while some of the electrical work gets done. Also, the demise of Lucy's napping is going to cut into my computer time. Also, I have to get my choreography/curriculum done for these dance classes I'm allegedly teaching for St Paul Parks and Rec, even though I can't find any sign of them online. Frustrating!

Anyway, some pix from the end of 2007:

The happiest Grampa.

Mmmm, coconut cake batter!

Sweet kids.