Briefs: The Secret Hole & TV Deception

When the kids were getting dressed after their bath the other day, Luke tried to claim Charlotte’s underwear as his own, declaring, “My underwear.”

Karen responded with: “Luke, when you start to use the bathroom, you’ll get to wear boys’ underwear.  Boys underwear is different, it has a secret hole.”

A secret hole?  What’s so secret about it?  As men, are we members (yes, that’s a penis joke) of some clandestine group?  Are we secret agents, like James Bond, wearing clothing designed by Q?

I believe she was trying to get Luke excited about 1) using the bathroom and 2) wearing boys’ underwear, attempting to make it sound special.

Apparently, it worked on some level, as her comment got both Charlotte’s and Luke’s attention (in addition to mine).

Charlotte must have believed that Luke was too young for such privileged information and suggested, “How about you tell me the secret and not Luke?”

Not Luke?  He’s the one who’s going to need to know.

Karen added, “Well, boys can pee without taking off their underwear.  They can use a hole in their underwear.”

Both kids looked pretty perplexed, so I got some underwear from my bureau and showed them the so-called “secret hole.”  If it’s possible, they seemed both intrigued and let-down at the same time.

Speaking of secret holes, Charlotte made her first serious attempt at deceiving us the other day.  Her motivation: wanting to watch tv.  (I’ve battled a television addiction for years and am afraid it’s in her genes.)

On Saturdays, either Karen or I sleep in while the other one takes the kids downstairs.  After Karen woke up and showered, she was getting dressed with the kids in our room while I was doing a few things in the office.

Charlotte asked if she could watch tv, prompting the following exchange (which I could hear bits and pieces of):

Karen: Did you watch tv this morning?

Charlotte: No, but shhhh, don’t ask Dad.

Karen: Why, are you not telling me the truth?

Charlotte:  No… if we watch it quietly, Dad won’t know.

The gig was up.  Needless to say, she did not get to watch tv.  Karen filled me in shortly thereafter, prompting this exchange:

Me: “Charlotte, did you tell Mom we didn’t watch tv this morning?

Charlotte: “Yes.”

Me: “Why did you tell her that?”

Charlotte: “I don’t know…”

Then, thinking better of it, she added, “Because I wanted to watch tv.”

I knew our kids would start trying to deceive us sooner or later.   I just thought it would be later.  Oh well.  I also didn’t think that my two and a half year old son would be trying to take his four-year old sister’s underwear.  Here’s to the secret hole.

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’

Lightning in a Bottle…

Charlotte’s birthday has come and gone.  It came and went pretty quickly, or it seems that way now, although I’m sure Charlotte felt that the wait was interminable.

It was a truly joyous occasion.  We are very proud of our four-year old. She was quite the hostess.  She enthusiastically greeted each guest, running up to just about every group as they arrived, genuinely thrilled to see them at her party.  She graciously accepted her gifts from them, deciding on her own to collect them on the dining room table until it was time for the present-opening. 

Luke was also gracious as the brother of the birthday girl, aside from declaring “my party” shortly after getting up and learning that the day of Charlotte’s party had arrived.  He helped me run the pre-party errands, including picking up over a dozen pink and purple balloons and herding them into the car.  I couldn’t see him at all in the back seat as we drove home.  Each time I asked, “Are you back there, Luke?”,  he’d respond, “I’m right here, Dad,”  and would then hit the balloons, sending one or two flying into the front as he gleefully declared, “I hit them, Dad, I hit balloons.” 

The Princess Adventure was a great success – Charlotte and several of her guests ran the course repeatedly.  After the first few run-throughs, Luke took over my dragon duties, running and roaring round the yard (he could not be contained in the ‘Dragon’s Lair’).

The flower sprinkler (or ‘Fountain of Renewal’) was a highlight.  After catching sight of the water shooting from the ‘flower,’ a number of the ‘knights’ and ‘princesses’ forsook the quest route, making a beeline for the chance to get wet. 

Luckily, after nearly two weeks of rain, the clouds had parted for our blessed event.  The skies remained relatively clear for most of the day.  The party had been scheduled for 3pm to 5pm, and at about 4:45, we started to feel sporadic drops.  Then, at about 5:05pm, it began to sprinkle, giving us enough time to bid most of our guests adieu and move things inside before the skies opened (with gusto).

Some family and friends remained for a short after-party in the house as the rain pummeled the now-drooping balloons tied to the swing set while large portions of the yard turned to mud.

Then, the thunder and lightning started.

Charlotte, utilizing one of her birthday gifts, a new umbrella, was walking her cousin to the car.  They made it halfway there when lightning lit up the sky dramatically, causing Charlotte (with her umbrella) to immediately run back to the house, abandoning her poor cousin in the driveway and pouring rain.  Just as he made it into the car, thunder shook the house and ground.

I suppose it was an appropriate exclamation point to a rockin’ party.

Charlotte got many great presents, but one of my favorites is her new butterfly net.  Luke also loves it.  He’ll walk up to me or Karen, holding the net to his head while extending the handle to one of us and pleading, “Catch me, Dad/Mom, catch me?”

But me, I’m looking forward to catching fireflies with the kids at night so that we can watch them light up in a jar.  (Don’t worry, we’ll set them free after a few minutes.)  Pretty cool stuff (both the fireflies and the looks of wonder and excitement that are sure to adorn the kids’ faces).

Further evidence that you can indeed catch lighting in a bottle, whether it’s a firefly in a jar or the pure joy of a four-year old’s birthday party.

(Happy birthday to my beloved, four-year old princess!)

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese’ (followed by some leftover birthday cupcakes).

Storming the Castle…

Charlotte turned four today – a very momentous occasion (for her and us). 

She’s been talking about her birthday for several months, and today it finally arrived.  Although, because her party isn’t until Saturday, it feels as though only one birthday shoe has dropped (for her and us).

We let the kids choose the meals on their birthdays, and when I asked her last night what she wanted for breakfast, she responded, “peanut butter sandwiches.”  She sometimes confuses the words “dinner” and “breakfast,” so I confirmed, “For breakfast?”  She thought for a moment before adding, “and blueberries.”

She did change her mind when she woke up and decided on cereal.  Luke, who was hoping for waffles, was somewhat disappointed.  (But his birthday’s not until February.)

Regardless of breakfast selection, Luke shared in Charlotte’s joy.  He’s very excited and happy for her.  When I asked him a couple of weeks ago what he wanted to get his big sister for her birthday, he immediately replied, “a castle,” very definitively, as if he had been thinking about it for a while and knew exactly what she wanted.  I’m not sure of what he meant specifically because they already have a Fisher Price Little People® castle that they both love.  But hey, it’s the thought that counts, and she does love castles.

Along similar lines, Charlotte declared a month ago that she wanted a “Princess Party.”  We were a little disappointed initially because it’s a somewhat generic theme, and we never envisioned having a pink, frilly, princess daughter.  Thankfully, while she does love pink and princesses, she has many other interests that don’t fall along gender lines.

That being said, we spent today finalizing the ‘princess adventure’ for her party.  It’s a type of obstacle course that Charlotte is completely thrilled about.  I’ve gotta say, I’m pretty psyched, as well.

Here’s a summary:

 The Princess Quest: Storming the Castle to Save the ‘Little Prince’

A Quest to Commemorate the Birth of Princess Charlotte Fiona

1. Cross the ‘Enchanted Forest’ (a sizeable rock garden with small shrubs and trees that is located at the side of the house).
2. Seize the ‘Sword of Strength’ (mini-sword made from drinking straws) from the Magical Tree Stump (an ice storm casualty).
3. Pass through the ‘Towering Trees’ and climb the ‘Hill of Hope’ (the upward slope at the edge of our yard).
4. Descend the ‘Slippery Slope’ to the ‘Dragon’s Lair’ (the dragon is being played by, yes, yours truly).
5. Run under the ‘Fountain of Renewal’ (Charlotte’s flower sprinkler).
6. Acquire the ‘Marble of Wisdom’ from the ‘Trunk of Knowledge’ (another ice storm casualty).
7. Crawl through the ‘Tunnel of Atonement’ (the kids’ toy nylon tunnel).
8. Storm the Castle (our swing set) and climb the ‘Wall of Honor’ (the rock climbing wall) or ‘Ladder of Liberation’.
9. Rescue the ‘Little Prince’ (Luke’s baby boy doll) and slide to freedom.
10. Present the rescued prince to the ‘Wise Sand Turtle’ (Charlotte’s turtle sand box).

I… er, I mean Charlotte… can’t wait for the party and the quest.  She spent most of the day practicing.  For a couple of the run throughs, she was joined by her friend and neighbor. 

When she proudly told him, “I’m four today,” his classic response was, “I’m four today, too.” (Funny because he turned four a couple of months ago.  Sure, he’s four today, but he was also four yesterday, and the day before, and the day before that.  I love kids.)

I must say, I do love my four year old.  I love her today, and I’ll love her for the next 364 days that she’s four (at which point I’ll love my five year old).  It seems like such a long time, but each day does go by so quickly.  As they say, every day’s an adventure.  You might even call it a quest.

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese,’  and good luck storming the castle!

A Red Sombrero, Swinging Doors, Fiddle Music, and Dr. Seuss

“Dad, is today Father’s Day?”

Charlotte had repeated this same question on each day leading up to the day, but it had finally arrived.

In an apt twist of fate, I had the kids by myself for the weekend – Karen was attending a cousin’s wedding at a state park in upstate New York.  Because children were not invited, combined with the fact that it was an over six hour drive, the trip became a sisters’ road trip for Karen and her two older sisters.

It was an appropriate way to spend Father’s Day Weekend – a microcosm of the potpourri of fatherhood.

Appropriately enough, Saturday began with Luke waking up at 5:30am.  Great.  Charlotte slept until after 7:15.  When I told her that Luke and I had been up for almost two hours, she simply laughed.  The laugh was adorable (the lack of sympathy was not).

Some highlights from the weekend (indicative of some of the recurring joys of fatherhood):

• Bike riding and shooting baskets in the driveway (including a ride around the block with the kids in the bike trailer)
• Making mac and cheese (the food, not the blog)
• A dance party in the living room that combined the seemingly disparate music of Abba and The Charlie Daniels Band (the kids are huge fans of fiddle music, particularly The Devil Went Down to Georgia)
• A rousing round of “Get Me” in the Rumpus Room
• Singing Rudolph at nap time and bed time
• Reading several Dr. Seuss books (Yertle the Turtle and The Lorax)
• Baking cookies for friends and Grandpa

Some of the challenges, in addition to Luke’s early wakeup times, included an interruption to my morning constitutional and a stressful ride to my parents. 

While in the bathroom, I could hear the bedroom door swinging back and forth (it squeaks), followed by a brief commotion and then Charlotte screaming that Luke shut her hand in the door.  After Charlotte was comforted and calmed down (it did leave a mark), I had a discussion with Luke about not playing with doors (for the umpteenth time) and a discussion with Charlotte about staying as far away as possible if, by chance, Luke is playing with a door (again, not the first time).

On the way to see Grandpa on Father’s Day, I was forced to pull the car over when Luke decided to throw both his and his sister’s sippy cups into the back of the car, out of reach.  Later in the trip, Luke got very upset, asking me to get me his ‘napkin’ and indicating it was in front of him.  He got extremely worked up before I realized he was talking about his umbrella, which was lying on the floor in front of him.

But the highlight of the weekend was the presentation of gifts, largely because the kids were so excited. 

Karen had left notes for a gift scavenger hunt that we all enjoyed immensely.

In addition, Aunt Jen had arrived for the sisters’ road trip with a gift for me that was hidden in Charlotte’s closet: a large red sombrero (it’s glorious – almost two feet in diameter with a wide brim and adorned with many shiny decorations).  Charlotte was thrilled to lead me to it – she has long maintained that I need more dress-ups.  She seems to feel badly that she has so many, which don’t fit me, while I have barely any.  Surprisingly enough, Charlotte was able to keep the secret of the sombrero until the appointed time.

In addition, earlier in the week, Luke had decided to give me one of his fire trucks.  Karen had asked if there was anything he wanted to give me, thinking something along the lines of a drawing.  He immediately declared, “fire truck” and went downstairs.  He came back up with one of his fire trucks.  He still plays with it regularly but calls it ‘Dad’s fire truck.’

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’

Larger Than Life…

Yesterday was my father’s birthday (he turned 71), and Sunday is Father’s Day. 

So in light of these two special occasions and in honor of my father, I’m including below a column I recently wrote for a small parenting newsletter.  It’s pretty cheesy, but hey, this blog is called Dad’s ‘Mac & Cheese.’  (The disclaimer is right in the title.)

Larger Than Life

Like many people, I have wonderful childhood memories of my father as being larger than life.  He would often walk into a room full of people loudly proclaiming, “Here I am, you lucky people.”  In fact, he still does. 

While said in jest, it was, and remains, the truth.  As we’ve both gotten older, I’ve come to an even deeper appreciation of the man my father is: honest, hard working, loyal, and always willing to help.  He loves to laugh and tell stories, many of which poke fun of himself.  All qualities I’ve tried to emulate.

My dad, never an overachiever in the classroom, frequently tells the story of his college interview in Boston. He grew up in a rural area in central New Hampshire and attended a small regional high school.

Sitting in his college interview, he was asked where he graduated in his class – his class rank.  Apparently, the interviewer was used to dealing with kids in graduating classes of hundreds of students, so when my dad said he graduated 16^th in his class, the interviewer was notably impressed.  “So this guy’s going on and on about how great that is,” says my dad.  “Meanwhile, I’m sitting there thinking, ‘This guy’s a nut, he’s off  his rocker.’  I eventually lean in and say, ‘Um, excuse me sir, there were only 17 people in my class.’”  Classic.

In another one of his, and my, favorite stories, he recounts a conversation he had with my maternal grandfather when he was dating my mom.  My grandfather commented that my dad must have a decent amount of money saved, seeing as he’s had a pretty steady job (he worked at Raytheon for over 30 years before retiring).  My dad’s response, “No, sir, I don’t have any money saved, but I do have an awful lot of good memories.” 

Unfortunately, in a cruel twist of fate, particularly for a man that’s always loved to tell stories, my dad was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s a couple of years ago.  Although he’s still in the early stages, it’s painful to watch my father slowly lose grasp of the very memories that have meant so much to him, and to me.  I can’t even begin to imagine the pain and frustration he feels.

Thankfully, my kids have become two of the “lucky people” who have experienced my father walking into a room.  They have had the chance to come to know and love their grandfather.  My son Luke in particular has a great affinity for him.  Whenever we are expecting company, no matter who it is or how many times we tell him who’s coming, if we ask, “Guess who’s coming?”  Luke’s immediate response is always a hopeful and excited, “Grandpa!?”  

My own kids are wonderful reminders of the great childhood memories I have of my own dad – when their eyes light up as I enter a room, when they rush into my office to share their latest news, when they squeal with glee, exclaiming, “Dad, tickle me!”

As with most fathers, the type of dad and person I’ve become has been informed in large part by my experiences and memories with my own father.  He’s established a high bar as a father and grandfather, but one I constantly strive to reach.  I only hope that he’s as proud to have me as a son as I am to have him as a father.   

So, in the immortal words of my Dad, “Here I am, you lucky people.”

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’

Say Uncle…

This past weekend, we babysat our 15-month old niece Nora at our house while her parents went to Block Island for the weekend.  We had offered to babysit for their anniversary, and this was the appointed weekend. 

The kids were quite excited to have their cousin over for the weekend.  They made signs for her arrival.  The first said, “Welcome, Nora, to our home – our home is your home,” and the second, dictated by Charlotte, said, “You’ll be back soon…. FOR MY PARTY!”  (Charlotte’s really looking forward to her birthday party at the end of June.)

They also wore their “I’m the big cousin” shirts.  We got them to wear to the hospital when Nora was born, several sizes too large so they’d last.  (Luke’s on the verge of growing out of his.)

Charlotte had been looking forward to Nora’s visit for weeks.  She’d been telling her friends at school that she wouldn’t be able to call out for her mom and dad when she woke up in the morning because her cousin would be sleeping in her room.  We were very concerned that she’d wake up Nora in the morning, who’s a late sleeper. (Charlotte usually wakes up at about 6:30am.)   

Oddly enough, there wasn’t a peep from her room until after 8am.  We heard them ‘talking’ softly shortly after 8am, and when we got upstairs Nora was standing happily in the pack and play.  When we asked Charlotte who woke up first, she responded, “Nora woke up first, and I woke up first.”  We’re still not sure what happened.  We’re thinking Charlotte woke up and quietly waited for her cousin to do so as well.

Luke shares Charlotte’s enthusiasm for their cousin.  He likes to get right in her face to say, “Hello, Nora”  Thankfully, we were able to convince him to kiss her on the top of her head rather than getting right in her face constantly.  Also, for some strange reason, he likes to try to sit in her lap and he tries to play ‘horsie’ on her when she crawls (despite the fact that he’s considerablu bigger).  He also wanted to join her in her pack and play when we put her to bed and down for her nap. 

Nora seemed to enjoy her stay, and all went relatively smoothly, the notable exceptions being that she skipped her nap on Saturday afternoon, and Luke had a 104 degree temperature on Sunday, which increased the fussiness factor exponentially and made for a challenging afternoon.

And I had forgotten how difficult it is to communicate with a 15-month old.  Nora does know a few signs and uses the “more” sign quite frequently, which helped.  She particularly enjoyed it when I did a silly dance (“more, more, more”), and when we played “oogie boogie peek-a-boo”(“more, more, more”).  Charlotte also interpreted on several occasions.  When Nora threw some food on the floor while having a snack in the highchair, and I suggested that we not throw food on the floor, Charlotte, who was in the bathroom at the time, yelled from her perch, “Dad! That means she’s done!”

Charlotte has also reached a basic understanding that, while she calls Karen and me “Mom” and “Dad,” other people call us different things.  At one point, when Karen was getting ready to read a book, Charlotte asked Nora, “Do you want Karen Putney to read you a story?”

Which brings me to one of my pet peeves…

I take the role and the title of “Uncle” very seriously.  (I have three nieces and one nephew, all of whom I love dearly and to whom I feel a deep sense of responsibility as their uncle.)  It drives me crazy when people bestow the title of ‘Uncle’ (or ‘Aunt/Aunty’) on any Tom, Dick, or Harry (or Mary, Jane, or Sue) regardless of the actual relationship.  ‘Uncle’ has a specific definition and it comes with significant responsibility.  It’s not a title that should be tossed around lightly.  There should be some type of special induction ceremony and specific qualifications (like being an actual uncle).

When Charlotte was born, one of our college friends asked if he could be “Uncle Neil.”  We respectfully declined.  After all, and to repeat (I feel very strongly about this), it’s not a title that should be tossed around lightly. 

I’m happy to report that since then, our friend Neil has become a true ‘Uncle.’  Although I do believe he has yet to survive, or experience, a weekend caring for his nephew, a true test of uncle-osity. 

Maybe there should be degrees of ‘Uncle-osity’, with qualifications and milestones to determine the degree of ‘Uncle-osity’ that an uncle has achieved.  An uncle could earn a black belt of Uncle-osity, be knighted as a Sir Uncle, be nominated for an Uncle Oscar or an Uncle Tony, or be considered for the Red Badge of Uncle Courage…  I could go on, but I think you get the point. 

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’

Secret Agent Girl

Charlotte’s last day of preschool was this week, and one of their final projects was a Father’s Day gift.  It was top secret.  Charlotte ‘refused’ to tell me anything about it, partially because of her mother’s coaching and vigilance. 

Charlotte’s not exactly a vault when it comes to secrets.  Last year, when her Aunty Lori’s birthday was approaching, we had gotten a birthday cake to surprise her with when she came over.  We instructed Charlotte, “No matter what, don’t tell Aunty Lori about the cake until we’re ready to bring it out.”

When Aunty Lori arrived, Charlotte couldn’t contain herself.  She immediately burst, “AUNTY LORI! WE GOT YOU A CAKE… DO YOU WANT TO SEE IT?!” She then opened the fridge and pointed to the “surprise” cake.

Anyway, Charlotte had been pretty good about the Father’s Day secret, largely because of her mom’s reminder “shushing” whenever the topic came up (ok, whenever I brought the topic up).  I was informed that she would be bringing the gift home on the last day of school in a bag that I would not be able to see through.

When she completed her second to last day of school, it seemed like she was almost in the clear.

But when one of noticed some purple marker on her face when she got home from school, it prompted the following conversation: 

“Charlotte, did you use purple marker today?”

“Yes, I used it to decorate the bag for Dad’s cookies…”

Doh!  She immediately realized her slip up, largely because of her mom’s reaction and emphatic, “SHHHHHHHHUSH!” 

But it was too late, the cat (or should I say cookie?) was out of the proverbial bag.

When she realized her mistake, Charlotte made of her trademark, adorable, slightly embarrassed ‘oops’ grins (an early, bonus Father’s day gift).

While I’ll certainly enjoy the cookies, it will be hard to top the grin.

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese’ (possibly followed by a cookie treat.)

Here Comes the Sun…

Good news.  Our little Vincent Van ‘No’ will be bringing home some artwork on Thursday.  She would have brought it home today but the paint was still drying.

Very exciting.  I can’t wait to see it.

Since the parent/teacher conference during which we learned of Charlotte’s unwillingness to draw, Karen’s been really pushing… er… encouraging art projects at home, and to great success.  Both the kids have really been enjoying it.

The finger painting project was a mess – all the colors ended up the same brownish hue after being mixed together.  At one point, Charlotte created a perfect purple handprint.  Karen was kicking herself for not moving it off the table because Charlotte decided it needed more work and ended up completely obscuring the handprint by the time she was finished.

On a somewhat related note, we’ve been encouraging Charlotte to tell her brother when she doesn’t like something, rather than just whining to us or pushing him away.  At one point, we congratulated her, stating, “It’s good that you can tell Luke when you don’t like or don’t want to do something.”

Her response: “I’m also good at telling my teachers when I don’t want to do things, like draw.”

Good to know. 

After it became obvious that Charlotte was indeed enjoying the drawing, Karen decided to pursue why she didn’t like to draw at school:

          Karen: “Charlotte, you could do this at school you know — wouldn’t it be fun to draw with your friends?”

          Charlotte: “I save my drawing for home.”

          Karen: “You can draw at home and at school.”

          Charlotte: “I like to draw at home, with my little brother”

Needless to say, we were quite pleased to learn that she actually painted at school today (on the second to last day).  Maybe we’ll get more artwork next year.  Here’s hoping.

On the bright side, Charlotte really enjoys drawing suns.  It seems to be one of her favorite things to draw.  Although the rays often shine in rather than out.  There’s a metaphor in there somewhere.

My mom likes to talk about my own affinity for drawing suns when I was a kid.  Every picture I drew had a sun in it.  I think my mom likes to view it as evidence of my sunny optimism.  In reality, it may have been more of a shortcut.  I always drew my suns in the upper corner so that I got the effect of a full sun while only drawing a quarter or a small portion of it.  The rest of the sun is implied, off the page.  Similarly, you only have to draw a small portion of the ray.  While I do like to think of myself as an optimist, I’m afraid my suns are more evidence of laziness or, as I would prefer to think of it, an economy of effort.

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’

‘The Say-Neigh Kid’ Gets His First Haircut…

We took Luke to get his first hair cut last Saturday.  He had been born bald, but after two years and four months, his wispy blond hair was growing unruly (although the curls in the back were quite adorable).

Charlotte decided that she would share her haircut place with her little brother.  They were both very excited.  As we were sitting in the waiting area, Charlotte looked her little brother in the eyes and announced very seriously, “Luke, the first thing of a haircut, you have to sit still.”

And he did.  He was like a statue for most of the haircut.  When the hair dresser wanted to cut the hair at the back of his neck, she asked him to look at his toes.  Apparently, he assumed she wanted to see his toes, and lifted his legs up in the air without changing his expression or even glancing at his feet.

Charlotte was the chief photographer for this milestone.  She was very professional.  The hairstylists and other clients got a big kick out of her.  She was asked if she wanted to be a photographer when she grew up.  She said, “No,” and when asked what she did want to be, she matter-of-factly answered, “A farmer.”

Introducing ‘The Say-Neigh Kid’…

Each night after the kids take a bath, we usually watch television for a little while in our room – iCarly on Nickelodeon. 

When I lie on my stomach, Luke likes to climb on my back and play horse.  Last night, he climbed on, looked back at his mom, and proudly announced, “Mom, I’m riding Dad.”

He then gleefully ordered, “Say, ‘Neigh,’ Dad, say, ‘Neigh.’”  When his ‘horse’ didn’t immediately reply, he repeated it, added a wistful, “Please,” at the end.  (We’ve been working on manners.)  How could I not say, “Neigh”?

Apparently, I was being a good horse, because he gave me a ‘treat,’ holding out his hand and announcing, “Chocolate.”  He then grabbed a nearby sock (thankfully it was clean), asked, “Need facecloth?” and wiped my face with it.

He then lay down next to me and said, “I’m a horse, too, Dad,” looked over at me and said, “We need hay.”  He then looked back at his mom and called, “We need hay, Mom!”

Thank goodness his sister is going to be farmer.

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese” (with a side of hay).

Shadows on the floor…

After the kids went to bed the other night, I was making pasta salad when I saw something scurry across the kitchen floor from the general area of the trash bucket to underneath the dishwasher. 

It might have been just a shadow, or a low flying moth, or maybe even my imagination.

But my initial (and lingering) thought is that it was a mouse.  I have yet to mention it to Karen (who will first learn about it when she reads this) and am hoping my eyes were indeed playing tricks with me (playing ‘cat and mouse’, if you will, or more accurate just ‘mouse’).  I have yet to see or hear any other evidence that we have a new mouse guest.

Maybe I’m being paranoid given our past experiences – we had a mouse in the house in January: a harrowing experience that was chronicled in ‘Mac & Cheese,’ from the initial fears in Tails of Desperation to the edge-of-your-seat updates in Back to life… and Good enough to eat…, before drawing to a rousing conclusion in A Better Mousetrap.

If we’re lucky, this will be the last you read about us having another mouse in the house. 

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’

Vincent Van ‘No’

When Charlotte started pre-school, I had visions of a grand gallery filled with the prodigious output of her talent – drawings, paintings, mosaics and the like.

Alas, it was not meant to be.

Every so often, upon entering her classroom to pick her up or drop her off, the products of the latest art project would be displayed on the wall.  I would casually saunter over and scan the names on the bottom of each sheet.  To my chagrin, Charlotte rarely, if ever, had artwork included.

It wasn’t as though her artwork was deemed unworthy.  She simply wasn’t creating any artwork.  Most of the art projects are optional, and Charlotte would opt not to participate, choosing to participate in a different activity during those times.

As a result, while other parents would enter the classroom and check their child’s hanging file to find reams of artwork, the only thing I would find in Charlotte’s file, when it wasn’t empty, would be the latest handout on the swine flu, the calendar of activities, the snack schedule, or some other update or notice.

A couple of weeks ago, I went in for a parent-teacher meeting that shed additional light on Charlotte’s apparent lack of interest in arts and crafts. 

As her teachers put it, Charlotte’s very social and likes to play with the other kids when she has the chance.  Charlotte’s attitude seems to be: why draw, which you can do by yourself, when you can play with friends (which you definitely can’t do by yourself)?  She has a particular fondness for what’s called “dramatic play.”  She likes to host fancy parties.  She also likes to play with toys that she doesn’t have at home.

In addition, her teachers mentioned that they have trouble getting Charlotte to do any art projects, including the ones that are mandatory (for example, the Mother’s Day project and gift). She’ll simply respond, “No, thank you,” and attempt to be on her way.

Oh well, if she can’t draw when she gets older, at least she’ll be able to throw one heck of a fancy party.

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’

When the moon…

Yesterday, we had a make-your-own pizza party with our neighbors.  It got a little messy: an 18-month old, two-year old, two four-year olds and a six year old with flour, dough, sauce, cheese and a variety of other toppings.

Karen guessed (correctly) that our six-year old and four-year old neighbor probably were standard topping pizza eaters.  When she asked the girl next door what kind of pizza she liked, she stated, “Both.”  When Karen asked what she meant by “both,” the answer was, “Cheese and pepperoni.”

But they did at least try some of the other toppings.  They were intrigued by the idea of putting pineapple on pizza (though it was quickly removed after the first bite of pizza).  Initially, more toppings were going into their tiny mouths than on top of the pizza.  The kids cleaned out the mozzarella bowls pretty quickly.

Eventually, the pizzas were completed and placed in the oven.  As could be expected, the kids were too excited to sit down for very long.  Having friends over proved far too distracting to focus on eating actual food. 

Oh well.  They had a ton of fun, and there wasn’t as much of a mess as expected.

I hope you enjoyed today’s serving of ‘mac & cheese.’  (Choose your own toppings.)