The Wallet Fiasco

I was thrilled to leave work tonight, eager to begin my long weekend with the boys. My eagerness is probably what made me forget my wallet. My wallet with all my money. The money I need to pay the nice parking attendants for allowing me to park my car in their nice ramp.

Of course, I didn't realize I forgot my wallet until I had given the ticket to the attendant and reached for my wallet to pay him. My wallet wasn't in my purse. I had no money. A long line of cars stretched behind me while I dumped my purse out onto my car floor looking for the lost wallet. The attendant finally took pity on me (or feared the look of fury on the drivers in line behind my car) and told me he would pay my fare, but asked me to park my car in the street to return to my office and find my wallet.

I quickly find a spot on the street and park my car illegally, putting on my flashers as I dodged traffic to return to my building. (Not only am I parked illegally, but my inspection sticker was due for renewal in January. I am a ticket waiting to happen.) I run into the building as fast as my heels and skirt can carry me. Enter one elevator to get to the lobby. Get to the lobby and realize my security card and all my other identification is also in my wallet. I try to sweet talk my way past the guard, but apparently I am not sweet enough and I must present some threat because he refers me to the guard station with suspicion in his eyes.

I beg and plead with the guards at the guard station to allow me to take yet another elevator up thirty some floors to retrieve my wallet. It takes TEN MINUTES of arguing for them to finally, reluctantly let me pass the security checkpoint to get back to my office without the required identification. (I mean, really! What kind of threat do you think I posed exactly? Grrr.)

Get of elevator, run down the hall to my office, and find the fucking wallet hidden in the back of a fucking drawer. (If I had remembered to pack my lunch, instead of running out to grab Subway, this would have never happened, damn it.) With wallet in hand, run back down the halls to get back on the elevator and run into a colleague who expresses surprise when he sees me and says, "You left like a half an hour ago?!"

Yes. Yes, I did leave a half an hour ago. Thank you for reminding me. Out of breath, I recount the whole, annoying little story and watch an elevator of people giggle at my expense. Race out of elevator to next elevator to parking garage. In parking garage, race to attendant's booth to give him back the fare money. Then race as fast as I can to retrieve my flashing illegally parked car and pray, pray, pray I escaped a ticket.

And I did! NO Ticket! Hallelujah!

I was in a total pisser of a mood until I got home and saw my eagerly anticipated order from Amazon had arrived. My order of Dance, Dance Revolution for our Wii - which guaranteed me a night of dancing my tail off to some silly disco tunes. Things started to look up. I just may dance, dance the night away...

Mommy's Band Aids

After work yesterday, I was finishing up dinner with the boys when I glanced out the back door and saw my Aunt’s yellow lab, Bo in our backyard. Bo is famous for jumping his electronic dog fence, wandering the neighborhood and forcing my Aunt and cousins to look for him for hours upon hours. In order to save them from the protracted dog hunt, I yelled to Chris to grab me a scrap of food and ran outside the door. I chased Bo in my tights, dress and pearls around our neighbor's backyard for a good ten minutes until Chris got my Aunt on her cell and she ran over to grab him. (My neighbors must think I am a loon. Crazy lady in her pearls waving a wad of cheese at a dog... I may get a rep.)

Upon returning inside, I am greeted by a howling Griffin who is screaming “Bo! Bo!” at the top of his lungs while banging on the back door. Griffin appeared to be a tad bit concerned over Bo’s escape and spent the next ten minutes crying full out tears while yelling, “Dog! Bo! Dog! Bo!”

We managed to calm Griffin down and announced to the boys it was time to head upstairs for bedtime. After a brief fight over who gets to use the boys’ bathroom first, Aidan gave in and retreated to the master bathroom to do his business. He came out of the bathroom a minute later clutching my box of tampons and asked me, “Mom, what are these?”

I am mid change from my work clothes and cursed my freakin’ bad luck to be the only parent in the vicinity of this question. How do I explain tampons to a five year old boy? Is there a parenting manual for this? I wish I had researched this ahead of time because I was stumped. I think I managed to come up with something along the lines of a “band aid for mommies,” but from the puzzled look on Aidan’s face, I am not sure if my explanation made any sort of sense at all.

A band aid for mommies? How is this the best explanation I could come up with?

Brennan (Thank you dear Lord) interrupted my rambling explanation to Aidan to demand (once again) that he wear his Buffalo Bills jersey to school tomorrow. My refusal leads to a huge tantrum until we finally compromise on Brennan wearing the Bills jersey to bed instead of his normal pjs. (There is no way he is wearing that jersey out of the house. Our only Bills jersey in a house full of boys and it’s a McGahee jersey! No. Way. In. Hell. But after my attempts at explaining tampons to a five year old, I doubt very much I can reason with a three year old by telling him that his beloved jersey bears the name of a man who hates Buffalo, said some horribly mean things about Buffalo and impregnated like half the city while he lived here.)

By the time my kids are in bed, I am ready to collapse. And it’s only 7:30 pm.

Blueberries Still Taste Great

Sunday Morning Ain't What It Used to Be

By 8:30 a.m. this Sunday morning, I had drank three cups of coffee, watched 1/2 of the Incredibles movie, broke up two fights between the boys over a new golf putter, stripped the sheets of everyone's beds, did a load of laundry, played four games of twister, unloaded the dishwasher, loaded the dishwasher, played matchbox cars, and picked up about a million and one toys/legos/blocks/action figures.

How's your Sunday morning? Relaxing? Good. Good for you.

The pool opens for the summer swimming season at 11 a.m. Aidan and Brennan have already dressed themselves into their swimsuits and have asked me, oh, about a million times "is the pool open yet, is it?" We may not make it until 11.

Yesterday, we enjoyed a fabulous time at Kid Fest. The boys went wild over the bounce houses and games. Their cousin Liam was the first official dunkee in the Dunk tank. It was a crowd pleaser. Travis accompanied us to Kid Fest and may have been a bit overwhelmed at his introduction to the kiddie scene. I am not sure what he liked more, the stirring rendition of "Lucky Ducky" by the child's entertainer or assisting the boys win a hundred and one pieces of candy to torture me with their sugar highs.

Later that day, my brothers and sister in law came over for dinner with Grandma JoJo. The highlights of the evening had to be the line drive into a very full diet coke (I won't discuss Trav's spot on throw to Aidan), Griffin's dancing with Seth and Tennille (Tennille can really bust a move to the Cars theme song), and watching Travis and Seth duke it out in a very lively Wii boxing match. (I have video. I may post it. It's that funny. Either that or I may ask for a substantial bribe to keep it private. My dear brothers - I am now accepting offers.)

Cupcake Madness

So I bought this book. It's called Hello, Cupcake. It is a beginner guide to decorating cupcakes and it promises to teach you to create amazing things out of a plain ol' cupcake just by using some ziplock baggies and candy.

I have a weakness for things like this because I honestly do believe that I too can create cupcakes resembling dragons or penguins at the drop of the hat. It's all part of my mommy dementia. I must bake atractive cupcakes to resemble farm animals! Because, yes, I have nothing else to do, right? (sure. sigh.)

Chris honestly laughed out loud when he saw the book arrive from Amazon. He tried to hide his amusement when I set off on my first baking experiment. But yesterday, using only my zip lock baggies, some tootsie rolls, a few m & ms and cut up circus peanuts, I made these for Aidan's school's Kid Festival Bake Sale:

Hello cupcake! I may be just a tad bit overexcited about my little chocolate lab cupcakes. Just a bit. Not quite sure I like what this says about me as a person, but at least I have cute cupcakes, right?!

'Cole

The boys and I hit the park this morning with my cousin Nicole. We spent a good amount of time collecting pussy willows near the lake. The boys used them as swords, as flags and as something pretty cool to just bang against stuff to watch them explode into white fluffy pieces. At one point Griffin noticed Nicole walking away from us as a group, dropped everything in his hands and ran towards her as fast as he could, tripping over his feet as he yelled, "'Cole! 'Cole!"

When Nicole didn't immediately turn towards him, he bellowed loudly, "'COLE!" until she finally turned towards him. She smiled down at his anxious face. Griffin lifted his arms, smiled at her and demanded, "UP!"

Nicole swung Griffin up onto her hip and he snuggled in close to her. They walked off together, Griffin's head resting on her shoulder.

I have to admit I had tears in my eyes watching a girl I knew and loved as a child, now loving up my child.

Back to Reality

My girls’ weekend away to the beach was wonderful. The glow of my dream weekend lasted for all of 24 hours, right up until Monday afternoon when I was on the telephone with one of my aunts trying to secure the future babysitting services of my cousin, and I had to keep interrupting our conversation to plead with my boys to please, for the love of all that is holy, KEEP YOUR CLOTHES ON ALREADY.

They wouldn’t keep their clothes on. Aidan or Brennan (I am not sure which one, but I know with some reasonable certainty that it wasn’t Griffin) made up some new game that involved running around the house in their underwear screaming at loud volumes and scaring the pants (literally) right off of each other. Griffin even managed to express his desire to join in the naked game by shouting “off” at me and lifting his hands up to the sky to try and take off his shirt.

I shudder when I think of what my life looks (sounds?) like to the outside world. My aunt finally gave up on our call and promised to call me back at a later time. She never called back. I think my inability to get an entire sentence out without stopping to shout at my children has made me an annoying telephone conversationalist. Slightly.

But the glow of vacation! The glow! It was a good glow. It was a glow of naps, beach, dinners out and about, girl talk until midnight each night and sunburned noses. It was a glow of basking in the company of a girlfriend I see way, way too little. It was a great glow.

I realized a few things on my vacation. I used to hate being trapped on a plane for hours during travels, but I now embrace the travels as an indulgence when I am traveling alone. I can sit in a seat in relative peace for hours, watch the Food Network or HGTV all I want and some nice lady will bring me a diet coke? Blissful.

I also realized that my ability, prechildren, to sit for hours and devour book after book may be gone. I have multitasked my life to such a degree over the last five years that I may have lost my ability to simply be still. I feel a little shell shocked to not have a million and one needs or demands to attend to all at once. My mind and body were twitching with the force of staying still and reading. By day three, I had regained some comfort with stillness in small amounts, but I wasn’t at my top, prechildren state. (I still managed to read all four books I had brought along for the trip though. Diane and I even read, side by side in beach chairs, the same book for the morning of day one – Jennifer Weiner’s Certain Girls. Sadly, I have to report – it wasn’t Good in Bed.)

There was a bit of irony for our girls’ vacation when I checked into the rental car agency, reservation in hand, and was told they sold out of every car imaginable, except for a handful of minivans. There is something a lot funny about going away without your kids for the weekend and driving a suburban assault vehicle for the duration of your trip. Heh.

But for now, girls’ weekend in paradise is a nice, fuzzy memory for me to hold onto as I face the reality of my life. I have to admit – it’s a pretty nice reality to return to, naked, screaming children and all.

Getting Away

Tomorrow morning at the ungodly hour of 5 a.m., I am on a flight to Florida bound for a no-child weekend with my girlfriend Diane. The six children we have between us will be safely at home under the adoring attention of their fathers as we enjoy three days of beach, sun and an amazing recipe for frozen cosmos.

We will girl talk to our hearts’ content. We will sleep in each day until our eyes pop open, well rested and refreshed. We will indulge in frothy, girly drinks and eat lots of chocolate. We will read book, after book, after book without one interruption of someone needing a trip to the potty, a juice box or their nose wiped. We will soak up the sun in our beach chairs pulled to the very edge of the Gulf of Mexico, enjoying the ripple of waves over our lazy feet.

I am giddy with just the thought of it.

Let’s hope we remember to catch our flights home on Sunday.

Tuesday

Brennan has a webkinz, a tiger. He sleeps with the webkinz every day, each night and generally just carries the stuffed animal here and there, including to school. He refuses to go to bed without it. The webkinz name is "Luke", an ode to our Star Wars fanatical house. (Aidan's webkinz is, appropriately, named "Ben.")

Today, I forgot Luke at school when I picked up Brennan. I remembered fifty other things: his blanket, his jacket, his Star Wars spaceship, his artwork and notes home, but I forgot the damn webkinz. Unfortunately for me, we didn't realize Luke was missing until right before bed. Thus, it was too late to run over to the school and bring Luke home to Brennan.

Bedtime did not go well tonight. Brennan screamed, howled and yelled at full volume for a good ten minutes. He moved on to a keening cry "I want my webkinz" repeated several hundred times until we could talk him down. I had just calmed him down to a reasonable level when Aidan walked into Brennan's room, seemingly to give a sympathetic smile to his brother, but did so while gleefully throwing his webkinz, "Ben", from arm to arm to remind Brennan of what he had lost.

And then the whole breakdown started all over again. I banished Aidan and Ben, calmed Brennan down and gave him four other stuffed animals to sleep with for the night.

Let's all say a collective prayer that Luke is safe and sound at school in the morning or there may be hell to pay. (Thank God Chris has drop off duties tomorrow morning.)

In other Tuesday news, Aidan's class went on a field trip to a working farm today. His favorite parts of the trip were, "milking the goat" because the milk "was really warm" and "walking through all that poop and pee." He also told me next time he should probably wear boots to the farm, because "wow, there really is a lot of poop and pee." Our valuable tuition dollars at work.

And that, in a nutshell, is our Tuesday.

The Cuteness of Matching Shirts

Mother's Day is just one more excuse to dress the boys in matching shirts. Because, really, how cute is that?

Let's Torture the Moms

It's that time of year - that fabulous time of year when the schools like to celebrate the moms by asking their children silly little questions in hopes of conjuring up witty preschool answers. And then displaying those answers for all to see... and ridicule.. and thank goodness it wasn't their kid.
Happy Mother’s Day everybody.

This year, Brennan’s answers to his school's Mother’s Day questions could have been worse. But still. They also could have been a bit better.

My mom really likes to….. “watch television.” (When do I get to watch television with three children five and under? When exactly? I figure all the other mothers are shaking their heads at poor Brennan and his lazy, tv watching mommy.)

My mom makes the best…. “grilled cheese.” (The boys used to think I make the best macaroni and cheese, but lately they have been preferring Daddy’s mac n’ cheese as “wayyy better than Mommy’s”. Chris thought this was a victory of sorts and lauded it over me for a few weeks until I finally told him I had been hiding pureed butternut squash in my mac n’ cheese. Ha. Mine may not taste as good, but it’s WAY more nutritious.)

My mom …. “reads me stories” the best. (Okay, I almost forgave him for the watching tv comment because at least he acknowledged the presence of books in our household. )

As always though, it could be worse. I could be the mommy that really likes to “go to work.” I could be the mommy that really likes to “go to the gym.” (At least that mommy probably has a nicer bottom than the lazy tv-watching mommy.) I could be the mommy that “works all day long” the best. Or lastly the mommy who “exercises” the best.

Hmmm, lots of hard workers and exerciser mommies in Brennan’s class. Interesting. This may account for my lack of bonding with this group of Moms.

Anyway. Tomorrow I will celebrate the cusp of Mother’s Day weekend with a doctor’s appointment for Griffin, a Mother’s Day tea at Aidan’s school, a dentist’s appointment for Aidan, a Mother’s Day tea at Brennan and Griffin’s school and lastly, soccer for Aidan. My Fridays off are very relaxing. Just think, I could be watching tv.

But tonight I celebrated Mother's Day be meeting a group of girlfriends for dinner after work at my all time favorite restaurant Left Bank. And that is a truly a Happy Mother's Day to me.

The Glow of Religion

Aidan asked me for fifty cents before school on Monday. Before I gave it to him, I asked him why he needed it.

"With fifty cents, I can buy a rosary, Mom." He replied, excited.

"A what?" I asked, certain I hadn't heard him right.

"A rosary!"

Huh. I guess I did hear him right. Color me surprised that my five year old boy was requesting extra change to buy his first set of rosary beads.

He brought them home from school yesterday, thrilled to show off his new beads and explain to me all the intricacies of prayer with a rosary. (The wonders of a catholic education, right?) A few hours later, I caught Aidan and Brennan hiding in Brennan's closet in the dark.

As I get closer I heard, "Look Brennan it glows. Do you see?"

"I see Aidan, I see!"

I opened the closet door to two pairs of eyes peering at me from the darkness. In Aidan's hands, the rosary gleamed bright neon green.

My son's first rosary is a neon glow in the dark special. I couldn't stop laughing for ten minutes. The boys were enraptured with the glow in the dark beads and spent most of the afternoon hiding in dark spaces to watch it light up.

I guess that's one way to encourage prayer among the kindergarten set.

PJ Play

Over the winter, I fell into the routine of sending the boys outside to play with their snow pants and jackets thrown over their pajamas. It saved time and prolonged our pajama days.

This morning, I tried to rally Brennan and Griffin to get outside to enjoy this beautiful spring day.

"Let's go upstairs, get dressed and we can go!" I said in my chipper Mom voice.

"Why?" Brennan asked. "Can't I just wear a jacket over this?" He looks down to point at his mismatched batman pj top and superman pj bottom.

It took some serious persuasion powers to get Brennan to throw on some real clothes. I never thought I would say this, but I actually missed his snowsuit this morning.

_________________________________________

Before outside play, Brennan, Griffin and I played a little hide n' seek. Griffin thinks he's hiding if he closes his eyes so he can't see us. I have seen him do this a hundred and one times and it seriously gets cuter every time he does it.

Recovering from the Weekend

I am recovering from our weekend today. Our weekend has been jam packed, all good stuff, but I admit I am counting the minutes until nap time so I can catch some snooze myself.

A recap? Friday: Opening day for the spring soccer season in Whoville. Game on, people. I wish I could accurately depict the mania of soccer in our little town, but I can't. You have to see it to believe it. There are close to 300 kiddies in Kindergarten and 1st grade registered to play. It is not only a soccer game, but a social scene for the parents. Anyone and everyone from whoville with a child spends quite alot of quality time at the soccer fields. It gets so crazy - that whoville has a police officer directing traffic when the games let out. (The traffic full of SUVs and minivans gets a little intense for our little suburban parts.)

We celebrated pregame with a little pizza, our friends Christine and Dylan and their girls. The kiddies looked adorable all decked out in their soccer uniforms and shin guards. (Of course, Chris caught that I had actually put Aidan's shin guards on outside of his socks, rather than inside. I have a little work to do as a soccer mom.)

After soccer, Chris and I did bath and bedtime for the boys. We gussied ourselves up and headed to a cocktail party at a neighbors house. I told our babysitter we'd be an hour. Three hours later and I had barely glanced at the clock. Oops! Good conversation, yummy food and adult drinks make for a quick passage of time.

Saturday was the big day for Chris. We scored 9th row center seats at the concert of Chris's all time favorite band - the Police. As an added bonus, Elvis Costello was the opener.

We were excited by the prospect of 9th row seats, but the reality outdid even our high expectations. The seats were amazing. The band was unbelievable. It was probably one of the best concerts I have ever attended. All around, just a great time.

But now, back to real life. Chris had an exceptionally early tee time for golf this morning. He was up and out before the boys awoke. I was reluctant to drag my tired, aging, sorry self out of bed. Aidan tried to get me up, unsuccessfully, at 6:20 a.m., 6:40 a.m., and then finally, at 6:50 told me in frustration, "Mom, you have to get up. Brennan is crying and Griffin is screaming for you." He then bounced on my bed for emphasis to make sure I was really, truly up.

Thank God for coffee and the wonders of caffeine. Otherwise, I wouldn't even make it until nap time. But it looks like I made it. Hurray for nap time! Now I have to go see about that little snooze.

In Pursuit of Balance

Yesterday, I was a panelist for a forum on Making Part Time Work in Law by the Women's Bar Association. There were four panelists and all of us had varying reduced hours arrangements in our legal fields. It was interesting to hear the differences in our schedules and work structures. It made me realize there are so many solutions to creating flexibility as part of a legal career. Unfortunately, it is a solution so often missed by the powers that be - which accounts for women leaving law firms in record numbers despite women now accounting for more than half of law school graduates.

One of the recurring themes of the panel was the pursuit of balance. I think we all agreed that balance remains elusive for every mom. For me, just when I think I have reached a point of balance and ease in my life is just when things get interesting. Yesterday, I believed I had it all together. We were all up and out of the house ahead of schedule. I confered with Aidan's teacher on homeroom parent responsibilities prework and headed to work to arrive on time. I spoke (in complete sentences and without interruptions!) to a room of peers about my career. After work, the kiddies were happy. The hubbie was happy. All was good. I had balance.

Then there is today. This morning, Chris and I wasted twenty minutes tearing apart the house looking for Aidan's school folder with the field trip permission slips I had carefully signed and tucked away for school the night before. Chris finally found it. In the garage. In a bag of garbage. Apparently, I had signed the permission slips, put the money for the field trips in an envelope, wrote a note to Aidan's teacher - placed them all in the folder and then TOSSED IT ALL IN THE GARBAGE on top of the coffee grounds and the urine soaked diapers. I have no idea. None. Then I lost my car keys. After another ten minutes of searching, I leave for work (now late), plop my coffee on the center console so I can get my bag in my car and promptly knock the coffee over into the back seat spilling all over the floor.

I would run inside and grab some paper towels or napkins to clean up the coffee slowly soaking into my car's interior, but I remembered we have absolutely no paper products left in our house. NONE. (except for a few rolls of toilet paper.) Because this week, I remembered to buy three different kinds of juice boxes, but I forgot all about the napkins n' stuff. So instead, I used one of the kids' sweatshirts left in the car to hastily clean up the spill as best I can.

During the day, I get two calls from the boys' school because Brennan is having a hay fever attack with swollen eyes. I then battle the guilt of leaving my son with swollen eyes and stuffy nose at school, but weigh it against the impossibility of leaving work to pick up my child because of a sensitivity to pollen. After work, the boys are in true Wednesday cranky form - and manage to cry or whine or fight just about every second I have with them right up until bed.

Now the boys are asleep. And I know for sure, I have no balance. I have good days, bad days and alot of days that fall somewhere in between. But on most days, we are happy. On most days, we make it work. I guess that is balanced enough for me.

My Boston Baked Bean

Chris and I are stumped on how in the world Brennan has developed a strong Boston/New Englander accent when the only time he has been to the New England region was the trip to Cape Cod we took when he was in utero. But, strangely enough – it’s there.

He is wicked at “pahking his cahs in the Hahvid Yahd” despite the fact he has spent his life in Upstate New York. Sometimes, his accent almost sounds like he is from Brooklyn, but nine times out of ten – he sounds like a little Boston Baked Bean hanging out at Faneuil Hall.

Vacation Hangover

Before children, I returned from vacation refreshed, well rested and energized. I was rejuvenated to push forward with life, gleaming with health and sleep.

After children, you do not return from vacation refreshed, well rested and energized. (Well, you do if you managed to vacation without your kiddies or with a full time nanny. Unfortunately, neither apply to my life.)

Vacationing with children is sort of like going on an all night, bender of a party in your college days. You enjoy it while you're doing it. (All those shots of tequila go down REAL easy... Hmmm, okay at least they did for me.) But, the next morning you feel like crap. You're tired and headachy and grumpy. You are confronted with a hang over of nightmare proportions.

My lovely vacation in Florida with my kiddies was great. We loved the beach. We all had a fantastic time. But reentry into normal life has left us all with a bitch of a vacation hangover. I have huge bags under my eyes brought on by an eight day sleep drought. I am grumpy. I am physically exhausted. Even worse, the kiddies are hung over too. They are beyond tired. Their behavior is an abomination. And the tantrums are coming fast and furious.

In short, we are not an attractive family right now. We are coming dangerously close to being like those families you see featured on Super Nanny. It is not good.

My only remedy for our family hangover may be an early bed tonight for the boys and margaritas for Chris and me. It may not be a long term solution, but it might just help push us over the hump.

Nothing Like a Beach Vacation

There is no family vacation like a beach vacation. The beach makes it all worth it. It isn’t easy to travel with small children, let alone three boys five and under. But, give me seven days on a beach surrounded by my children, white sand, blue waters and warm sun – and well, we can survive the traveling part.

The boys loved the annual jaunt to Florida – sand to dig, waves to surf, shells to be found. The boys hit the beach the moment we arrived with enthusiasm despite the slightly chilly air and rough waves. Griffin watched the waves for a minute and then ran as fast as his little legs could carry him straight into the surf. He was promptly knocked over by a wave and came up sputtering salt water. He spent the next few days trying to dodge the water encroaching upon his beach territory, but soon enough he was running right back into the surf, eager to skip in the waves with his brothers.

Our first few days on vacation we had the company of my cousins Liam and Nicole. My cousins love to be with my boys and spent hours digging, running and amusing them. They also introduced Chris and I to our new addiction: Guitar Hero. After the boys were in bed, we spent hours in rock star showdowns. I finally had to admit defeat to Chris as he moved on to the intermediate level, while I stayed behind as a beginner guitar rocker. (Of course, my cousins wowed us all with their expert level maneuvers. Oh to be thirteen again!)

On day two of vacation, the sun and warmth returned with the Gulf of Mexico as clear and glassy as a aqua blue lake. The waves were barely ripples across the surface of the water. We spent the morning hunting sand dollars. Liam bested us all with the seven he uncovered on the ocean floor. I was proud of my one discovery! Aidan and Brennan found pieces of coral and clams – all saved to bring home to show their friends at school.

We spent every day digging a giant ditch close to the waves where the boys would play and build. The ditch would become a man made tidal pool as the incoming waves filled it up with water. Griffin would plant himself into this pool for hours, content to splash and run his fingers through the sand. Aidan and Brennan amused themselves by surfing the softer waves. They ran to and from the water trying to jump over the edge of the tide. Brennan even came up with quite a spectacular routine for the water’s edge involving spins and jumps and sideways somersaults all capped off with a dramatic kick and punch at the water. His routine was appropriately named the: Mr. Incredible Routine. I asked him to perform his dance for us again and again. It only got funnier each time he did it. (Trust me: you have to see it to believe it.)

We enjoyed quality time with my grandparents and my mother (Grandma JoJo), who joined us for a few days. Aidan and my grandfather may be made for each other. Aidan can ask any question and my grandfather will always come up with a thoughtful and factual answer. I had tears in my eyes to see Griffin cuddled up with both of my grandparents so readily and easily. My grandmother spoiled us all with her homemade sauce and meatballs. (We begged to eat leftovers for two nights straight.) And the boys loved the chance to torture Grandma JoJo with some quality time amongst the waves.

The only thing we didn’t get to enjoy all that much? Sleep. The five of us shared one room, rotating Aidan and Brennan from an air mattress on the floor to the middle of the bed with Chris and me. Aidan is a kicker, a snorer and a teeth grinder. On the nights he was in bed with us, I barely slept a wink. Brennan, on the other hand, is great – once he manages to sleep. He kept the other two boys awake each night with his singing and playing and story telling. That boy does. not. sleep. Griffin did his part to encourage the sleep boycott by waking us all up at 5 a.m. every morning. I never knew that a vacation with children meant I would need a vacation to recover from the vacation.

The travels home were long. We remembered to keep a sense of humor when Griffin got a little car sick in the back seat and threw up on the way to the airport. We laughed when Brennan spent twenty minutes yelling his stomach hurt and he had to go poopie in the car, only to let out the most giant man-sized burp. (Brennan’s response after the burp? “Huh, now I feel better. Momma, I guess I don’t have to go poopie at all.”) We managed to keep good cheer as we ran from the end of one terminal to the end of another terminal trying to make our tight connection. (Okay, okay, I may have threatened the boys to pick up their pace or else we were going to have to sleep at the airport.) But my personal favorite of the trip home was turning to Aidan during the safety demonstration on the airplane and seeing him reading the airline safety card. At my inquisitive look, he said, “What? They told us to review it. I’m reviewing it. Would you like to review it with me?” (My second favorite moment of the trip home was Brennan watching Scooby Doo with headphones on and singing along to the theme song, not realizing that the whole plane could hear him.)

But now, it is back to reality. Chris and I worked today, the boys were back at school and there are buckets of dirty, sandy clothes strewn around the house. At least, I have the pictures of vacation to comfort me.

Googling

The last two people who happened upon my blog via the search super powers of Google were searching the terms "boogers in swimming pool" and/or "holding pee during school." This makes me feel like my life is truly fabulous.

Nothing to see here people but boogers and pee. Nothing at all.

Meet the Incredibles

Brennan is a little addicted to the movie The Incredibles. I am ashamed to say he can now recite the movie by heart and often you will find him whispering the lines right along with the characters as he watches the movie with rapt attention. His obsession has spread to his requiring us to refer to him not as Brennan, but as Mr. Incredible. He not only goes by the name Mr. Incredible, but he really, truly believes he has become Mr. Incredible. In fact, he spends a lot of time going around the house trying to prove how strong he is – just like Mr. Incredible - by lifting up a lot of our furniture. This means I spend a lot of time begging Brennan to “please put down the ottoman already Brennan okay?”

As part of the Incredibles obsession, we have all been assigned parts. Aidan is Fro-Zone, or as Aidan likes to call him, “Mr. Freeze Man.” Griffin has been assigned the role of “Dash.” I am told I am “ElastiGirl.” (My assigned character led to a long drawn out discussion among me and my sons because they were concerned that, perhaps, I would prefer to be Violet, because, you know, Violet can disappear and that is very cool. But ElastiGirl can stretch very, very far and that is cool too and she is the mom, so it was determined I must be ElastiGirl.)

When Chris returned from his business trip last week, the boys informed him he must also be a character from the Incredibles. (The family that pretends together stays together, right?).

After thinking about it for a moment, Chris said, “I’ll be Mr. Incredible!”

The boys shook their heads in unison as Brennan scoffed at Chris and said with fervor, “I am Mr. Incredible, Daddy.”

“Oh, well, then I’ll be Fro-Zone!”

“No, no, no – Aidan is Fro-Zone, Daddy!” Brennan exclaimed.

“Dash?”

“Nope, that’s Griffin.” Aidan said pointing to Griffin.

Chris looks over to me for some assistance. I laugh and shake my head.

“How about the baby Dad? Do you want to be the Baby?” Aidan asks with seriousness.

Chris looks mildly offended. “No, I don’t want to be the baby!”

Brennan looks thoughtful and then yells, “I know! You can be the thwreat.”

“Who?” We all ask.

“The Thwreat! The Thwreat!” Brennan yells back.

No matter how many times he repeats it, we still had no idea what he was talking about.

The next day Brennan and I are (once again) watching the Incredibles. The movie’s antagonist/ bad guy “Buddy” appears on the screen. Immediately, Brennan points to the television and yells to me, “There! There’s Daddy! The thwreat! He’s the thwreat. See, mommy? The thwreat!”

Oh, the Threat. I laugh so hard tears pour from my eyes.