Christmas was good. The boys both participated in the Christmas Eve Mass. Bug was one of the Three Kings, and Boo was a shepherd. The church was filled to capacity, so I was wondering if Bug was going to get cold feet when it came time to sing his solo. He didn't, and it was beautiful.

We really cut down on presents this year, which was nice. Still, it felt like something was missing on Christmas day. I'm just not sure what. We've talked about working in a soup kitchen next year on Christmas day. One of the most important values I hope to instill in the boys is a sense of compassion. I want them to be aware of the suffering and hardships of others, and as they grow, hopefully they'll do their part to make the world a better place. I worry about them growing up spoiled, and feeling a sense of entitlement.

A few months ago, about an hour before dinner, Bug started seriously complaining that he was starving, and that it wasn't fair that he had to wait so long for me to finish cooking. This kind of whining makes me nuts. I always have fresh fruit and veggies in the house, and my kids are allowed to help themselves to these whenever they're hungry. After listening to him for about 5 minutes, I said "do you realize that there are kids right now who really are starving to death? Kids who haven't had a meal in days, and don't know when they'll eat again?" I turned on the computer and found a news clip about a little girl who lived in Africa, and had to dig through trash everyday to find food. Once in a while, she would find a rat, kill it, and bring it home to cook and share with the rest of her family. I made my son watch the video with me. Harsh? Maybe. But that 5 minute news clip taught him more than I could with any lecture.

Snowboy

Did I mention that Bug LOVES the snow? Last week when we had that huge snowstorm I asked my husband to make a big mountain of snow in the backyard with the snow blower. Bug had a blast digging out a cave. He had so much fun that he took a flashlight out and played in it at night. Brrrrr. Just looking at that picture makes me cold!

A Wee Bit O' Snow

We're in the midst of a big Nor'easter here. It's been coming down like mad for about 12 hours, and it's near white out conditions right now. We must have at least a foot and a half. Rich and the boys just went out to go sledding out back. Yeah, they're a little crazy. Bug can't get enough of the outside. He was out snowshoeing this morning before I was even dressed.

I think it's time to start counting down the days until our Florida vacation.

Hard Knock Life

This evening, Boo's toys were scattered all over the living room. He HATES picking up after himself, and usually works himself into a frenzy of tears when I ask him to clean up. It's not uncommon for him to spend 20 minutes fussing over a job that would take a couple minutes to complete.Tonight was no exception, and we had the usual crying and protests of "I'm just so, so tired Mommy!" and "It's too much for me to do!" Eventually, he gave in. As he was slowly putting away his action figures, he turned to me, still sobbing, and said very dramatically "I just don't understand how two such sweet parents can make me do such hard things!"

Thanks my love, I'll take that as a compliment.

Happy Birthday, Bug

Today after church Bug made me so proud. He and Boo decided that this year they would like to be a part of the children's choir for the Christmas Eve Mass. This is is big deal for Bug, because he has always struggled with shyness and feeling anxious around new people and in new situations. So, I was happy, but surprised that he wanted to sing in the choir. About halfway through practice, the choir director began assigning the solo parts. I was chatting in the back of the room with a friend, and didn't pay much attention because I knew that my kids wouldn't ever want to sing solo. So, I was shocked when I looked up few minutes later and saw Bug standing in the front, with the other soloists. My shy, anxious, easily embarrassed child had requested a solo. This is one of the things I love about him so much; his determination. He constantly pushes his boundaries and does not allow himself to be limited by what feels comfortable to him. I admire his resolve and I love his courage. I don't think anyone else in that room knew how nervous Bug must have been, or how hard it was for him to stand in front of all the other kids and sing. But I know. And I love him all the more for it.

His 7th birthday was Friday. When we first brought him home from the hospital, I was totally unprepared for how drastically my life would be changed. The feelings I had for him were so primal; I had never experienced that kind of raw emotion and vulnerability before. Every fiber of my being was madly in love with this little creature. I remember that there were times when just looking at him would cause my eyes to fill with tears. Being adopted, I had never before seen myself in another person. Looking at him, my first born, and seeing my features in him, was an incredibly powerful experience. Seven years later, it still is.

How is it that some days feel so long, but the years just fly by?

Snow Day!

Well, we finally got our first real snow storm of the season. All the schools in in the state were closed yesterday. It was a very fun day of sledding, cookie making, and tree decorating. Between all that and his birthday coming up on Friday, Bug was in "overdrive" all day long, over-the-top excited. He even wrapped gifts (some of his baseball cards from his collection) for everyone and put them under the tree. Then he insisted that we open them right away. Sadly, he had a meltdown at bedtime that resulted in him not being allowed to watch an episode of "Daniel Boone" that we rented. The poor little guy couldn't stop crying. It's so for me hard to stand firm when he cried, because he so rarely does. He has to be really, genuinely devastated before he cries. It breaks my heart. Boo, on the other hand, is our little drama man, and can cry at the drop of a hat. But I stayed strong, and after a while Bug calmed down and we had a nice snuggle and read a book together. Both boys were outside again by 7:30 this morning to do some more sledding before heading off to school.

I taught today for 3rd grade. For some reason, subbing this year has been so hard. I'm not sure if it's me or the kids. They've just been wild, and difficult to manage. I need to brush up on my classroom managemnent skills, I think.

I had a talk with the boys yesterday about gifts for Christmas. The last few years, The husband and I have been really discouraged by the material aspect of Christmas. Between ourselves and the grandparents, the kids end up with so many gifts that it takes them literally HOURS to open everything. Last year, I spent the entire morning trying to keep up with gathering up all the wrapping paper and packaging, while the boys ripped open present after present after present. That's when we decided, enough is enough. So this year, we're getting the kids each 3 gifts. We decided to do 3, to represent the gifts of frankincense, gold, and myrrh. We also told the grandparents that we'd like them to scale back. They were very understanding. Of course, Santa will bring them each a few nice things too. But I explained to them that we want to focus on about, being grateful, and enjoying the love that we share as a family. It might just be the best Christmas ever.

It's Beginning to Feel a Lot Like Christmas

Thank you all for the kind thoughts and prayers for our little friend, R. He is in a hospital in NYC right now, awaiting his transplant. From what I understand, his father will be donating part of his own liver. As hard as I know this is for his family and friends, I thank God that we live in a place where he is able to receive the medical attention that he needs to survive. So many people in other parts of the world are not as fortunate.

Yesterday was a big day for church bazaars in our little community. The Catholic, Baptist, and Federated churches all had festivities,as did the Masonic Lodge. For a small New England town, we have a lot of churches! Bug and Boo had loads of fun eating goodies, painting ornaments, and decorating cookies. We saw Santa at one of the bazaars, and my kids were hesitant to go over to him at first. Bug is really, really shy and anxious around strangers, so I wasn't surprised. Boo isn't so shy, and can usually strike up a conversation with anyone. Sure enough, Boo eventually ventured over to Santa on his own and started chatting.

When he was done, he came back to me and said "Mommy, I have to whisper something in your ear". I bent down and he very quietly said "I don't think that's the real Santa Claus."

"What makes you say that?" I asked

"His beard has a tag on it", he replied.

"Hmmm. Well, it's not quite Christmas yet, so he hasn't had time to grow it out fully."



A little while later, Boo was looking at all the "old lady crafts". You know the ones I'm talking about...crocheted dish rags, crocheted potholders, crocheted toilet paper covers. His eyes stopped on one particular item. It was made out of the bottom half of a laundry detergent bottle and had a crocheted Santa head fitted over it. He stared at it for a full minute, and I thought to myself, "Oh please don't ask me for that. It's tacky. It's useless. We already have too many decorations."

Then I heard his little voice "Mommy?" Here it comes, I thought. "I would really like to buy that for Santa. He's always the one who gives gifts. I think it would make him feel good to get a gift. Can I borrow two dollars please?"

I tried to hold back the tears that suddenly filled my eyes. My sweet, sweet boy. "Yes, honey, I will lend you the money to buy a gift for Santa."

My heart swelled with pride as I watched him slowly cross the room to Santa. My eyes filled with tears as his little paint stained hands lifted to present his gift. Santa smiled from ear to ear.

He gave a gift straight from his heart. And it filled both of us with joy.

I'm So Sad

I answered the door a little while ago to see a 20-ish young lady holding out a tin of Boy Scout popcorn. "I'm "R's" cousin" she said, handing me the popcorn. "His mom asked me to bring you the popcorn that you ordered."

R is our neighbor who lives a few houses down the road. He's in 6th grade. He's very kind and soft-spoken with a very gentle soul. He's a really special kid. My 4 year old really likes him, and about once a week, R will call and ask if he can come over to play. We live on a quiet country road in a very rural area, and there aren't any other kids who live right near us, so this is always a real treat for the boys. R doesn't have any siblings, and I think he gets lonely sometimes.

I thought it was odd that R wasn't delivering the popcorn himself, since he usually loves to come over and see the boys. "How's R doing?" I asked?

"Actually, he's not doing well. He's in the hospital and he's going to have to have a liver transplant" she answered.

I was stunned. He had told me once in conversation that he had a liver disease, and that he had to have blood transfusions. I listened, but I didn't push for details, knowing that if and when he wanted to tell me more about it, he would.

I am hoping and praying that everything will be okay for him, and he will pull through just fine. But I hate that he has to go through this.

R, hang in there buddy, be strong. This world doesn't have enough people like you in it. We need you.

Reason #3678 Why Not to Buy Toys Made in China

Yesterday Bug was playing with a little telescope/spyglass that Santa brought him last year. After quietly studying it for a minute, he asked "Mommy, I thought Santa brought me this toy."

"Yes, he did", I answered, while at the same time trying to predict what his next question would be, so that I could be ready with a good response.

"Well, how come it says Made in China on it?"

Have you ever had the feeling of going through a "mental Rolodex", looking for the right thing to say? There were a dozen clever answers I could have given him. It could have been my moment to shine as the creative, witty, thinking-on-her-feet kind of mom I wish I was.

Instead, I panicked. "Ummm, I'm not sure. Maybe his elves were in China when they made it." As soon as I said it I knew how ridiculous it sounded. "Ask Daddy when he gets home," I stammered. "He knows more about the elves and their toy-making"

Brilliant. Just brilliant.

Who taught this kid to read, anyway?

Give Me All Your Money and a...

Today, Boo and I were playing "Lone Ranger". The following conversation took place:

Boo(in a tough-guy voice): "I've got a weapon, and you have to do whatever I say!!"
Me("surrendering" with my hands in the air): "Okay, okay! What do you want?"
Boo:"I want all your money, your weapon....and a wig!"

Huh?

After I stopped my hysterical laughing he withdrew his request for the wig.

He cracks me up, that kid.

I Liked It, I Really Liked It!

We did end up going out for diner on Thanksgiving, and what a treat it was! No preparation, no grocery shopping, no cooking, and no dishes!! Woohoo! Apparently it is getting more and more common for folks to eat out on Thanksgiving, because the restaurant was PACKED. After dinner, my mother-in-law came to our house for a little while and Bug showed her how to make a really cool 3-D snowflake out of paper. Everyone was happy and full by the end of the evening.

Friday I took the boys to the movies and then bowling. It was lots of fun to just play with them all day. When I'm at home, I often get caught up in all the little things I need to do around the house, when I really should just take time to concentrate on playing with my boys. And playing with them is SO much more fun than working around the house!

Unfortunately, the rest of the weekend went downhill. I came down with a stomach bug Friday night and was sick all night and all the next day. Saturday night Boo woke up and yelled "Daddy!! I just threw up in my bed!!" Normally, he would call for me, but he knew I was sick too. He's such a thoughtful little fella!

Counting My Blessings

I recently read a blog about a family who lost their 4 year old little boy to cancer after a long and courageous battle. In thinking about their terrible and unimaginable loss, I've realized that I have no right to feel sad and complain about any aspect of my life. I am so incredibly lucky to have two healthy children. It's something I take for granted all too often, but tragically many others don't have that luxury. As I type this, the boys sit a few feet away, playing with their knights and castle. Every few minutes they quarrel over who has more weapons, who has more knights, etc... I know that many families who have lost children would give anything to have their children back, to hear them argue with their siblings, to hear them do or say anything at all. This Thanksgiving, I will focus on the many blessings I have, instead of feeling sad about the things and people I miss.

My Sharp-Dressed Guy

Yesterday Bug had to be picked up early from school because he had thrown up in his classroom. Poor kid. He embarrasses REALLY easily, so this must have been just awful for him. Boo was so cute and sweet to him when he got home. He told his brother that he would get a blanket for him, take care of him and even lay with him on the couch to keep him company. When Hubby commented that it was very sweet the way he was taking care of his older brother, Boo responded "C'mon Daddy, he's my brother, what do you expect?" I'm telling you , these two are so adorable together (when they're not trying to kill each other).

Over the weekend, we went to a musical at our local high school. Before we left, Bug and Boo disappeared in Bug's bedroom for quite a while. They emerged some time later, with Boo all dressed up in Bug's dress pants, dress shirt, and jacket (which were 2 sizes too big for him). Ummm, a little over-dressed for a high school show maybe? He clearly thought he he was lookin' good though, I could tell by the way he was strutting his stuff. Later, when we were out, he went up to a total stranger and said "Hey guy, am I lookin' good tonight?" "Why, yes, you are" answered the man. And I agree. You looked Mahhh-velous, my sweet boy.

Cranky

For the last few days I've been feeling really cranky, gloomy, unsettled. It happens every year right before the holidays begin. I see everyone around me making plans and talking about family gatherings, the radio is is playing Christmas music already. It's supposed to be the "most wonderful time of the year." I kind of feel like I'm outside peering in through a window, watching everyone else "sing" and "make merry", but I'm locked out. I want to share in the excitement, and I even go through the motions, but it always feels like something is missing.

My folks (my dad and step-mom) live in Florida for part of the year, they leave at the end of October, so they aren't around for Thanksgiving or Christmas. My mom died almost 20 years ago. My brother lives in California. Except for my elderly mother-in-law who is in the beginning stages of Alzheimer's, we don't live near any other family.

When I was little, my mom, dad, brother and I would make the hour drive to my grandparents house every Christmas Eve. All the aunts, uncles, and cousins would be there. It was a lot of fun, and I have many memories of driving back to our house at night, listening to Christmas carols on the radio, feeling so happy and warm and excited and content. No matter what other problems our family had, Christmas Eve always seemed perfect. On Christmas day, there was always church, and then the day was spent playing with new toys. The day after Christmas, relatives from my dad's side of the family would come to our house for the afternoon, and we got to see cousins from that side of the family.

Things are so different now. My mom is dead, my grandparents are all dead, and my cousins are all scattered all over the country. I haven't spoken to most of them in years. We were never really close anyway. But it sure was nice to pretend we were once a year.

This year, as is usually the case, my husband has to work at the hospital on Thanksgiving. Last year I spent the entire morning and afternoon in the kitchen(when I wasn't dealing with the kids, who were 3 and 5 at the time). I prepared a huge feast for us, that I served when hubby got home. The kids each took about 4 bites of food, declared they didn't like it, and were done. I was so tired and worn out by then, and dreading the clean-up, that I didn't have much of an appetite either. This year, I think we're just going to go out for dinner. I know it will be a lot easier this way, and I'll make the best of it. Still, it just doesn't feel "right".

Me and Bug

Today I went in to volunteer in Bug's class, as I do every Thursday. I really enjoy it and it gives my ego a big boost when all the kids run up to me and give me hugs as soon as they see me. The classroom teacher was out today so there was a sub. Now, I'm the first person to acknowledge that substitute teaching can be hard. Really hard. I've been subbing part time for a few years, since I left my regular teaching job, and I've had my share of classes from Hell. However, the scene that greeted me when I walked into my son's room today was like something out of Animal House. There were kids on desks, kids under desks, and quite frankly I'm surprised there weren't kids trying to cram themselves in desks. Another half dozen kids were chasing each other around the room. I looked around for the teacher, but she was nowhere to be found. For a fleeting moment, I wondered if the kids had her hog-tied in the bathroom. Finally I asked my son where she was and he pointed to a out of the way spot behind a bookcase. There she sat, chatting with another student, seemingly oblivious to what was going on around her. Thankfully, Bug was one of the few students actually sitting at his desk doing his work. NOT that he is a saint. Far from it. At times, he can be the class clown, and he has been reprimanded by his teacher more than once for it. Just last week, his teacher and I were chatting and she told me he had to take a "think time" twice that day. Once for running down the hallway and seeing how far he could slide on his knees(what can I say, he loves baseball) and once for daring another student to put pretzel sticks in his nose and pretend he was a walrus. How funny, oops, I mean, naughty, is that? Lucky for him, he is really, really bright and is very goal oriented. So, he likes to get his work done. Today I could tell that the classroom "environment" wouldn't really be conducive to his learning, so when my volunteer time was up, I took him home with me. I fibbed and told the teacher he wasn't feeling well. Which wasn't completely untrue, as he has up the last few nights coughing. Also, he had a really bad blister. Okay, so that's a lame excuse. But it's true!! Anyway, we had a lovely afternoon together. Just me and my Bug.

Names

Like most moms, I spend a lot of time thinking and talking about my kiddos. I've been trying to decide how to refer to them in this blog. Should I use their real names? First initials? Refer to them as the "older son" and the "younger son"? Well, in order to afford them some degree of anonymity and spare them the embarrassment that inevitably goes with stories that moms tell about their kids, I've opted not to use their real names. Calling them "older son" and "younger son" seems too anonymous, and quite frankly, takes too long to type. So, Henceforth, they shall be known as Bug (older)and Boo (younger). Cute, short, and easy to type.

This morning as I was driving Boo to preschool, he was uncharacteristically quiet. Right as we were turning into the preschool driveway, he let out a big sigh, and pronounced "Yep, the world is a pretty darn big place." Hmmm, was it the 3 mile drive from our house to his school that led him to this conclusion?

Early morning philosophizing from a 4 year old. I love it.

Hmm...where to begin?

Well, let's just jump right in, shall we? November in the Northeast can be oh-so-dreary. The leaves are gone, the sky is gray, the weather is chilly and damp. Blah. It doesn't help matters that I've got a nasty cold. Makes me want to just curl up under a blanket on the couch and sleep the day away. The wee ones are both at school... oh, it would be so nice! Just me, my blanket, and my thoughts. Ya know, maybe the bears are onto something with that whole hibernation thing.

Okay, time to stop day dreaming. A day on the couch is not meant to be for me today. I have to substitute teach this afternoon. And, hubby has taken the day off work to work on our new mudroom/garage addition. He was hinting in a not-so-subtle way that he could really use some help this morning. Maybe if I hid under a blanket on the couch he wouldn't be able to find me?

----------------------------------------------------------
So, I decided hiding under the blanket wasn't a very grown-up thing to do. Besides, I've tried it with my kids and they find me every time. I stoically lent my carpentry skills to hubby for a while even though I felt like crap. Okay, so I what I really did was hammer a few nails and whine to myself about about feeling crappy.
On the way home from preschool, my 4 year old, asked me "Mommy, is the Vampire State Building in New York City?" This elicited teasing and uncontrolled laughter from my almost 7 year old. But then I reminded him that a few months ago, while I was folding laundry, he held up my bra and said to his younger brother "This is for holding up Mommy's braces." "Uh, no honey,"I said, "they're called breasts." I know, it wasn't very nice of me to bring it up, but sometimes as a parent ya just have to level the playing field a little!

Testing...

Testing. Hello? Is this thing on??

Okay, first, an explanation of the title. It's from my favorite poem:

Reflections on a Gift of Watermelon Pickle Received from a Friend Called Felicity

During that summer
When unicorns were still possible;
When the purpose of knees
Was to be skinned;
When shiny horse chestnuts
(Hollowed out
Fitted with straws
Crammed with tobacco
Stolen from butts
In family ashtrays)
Were puffed in green lizard silence
While straddling thick branches
Far above and away
From the softening effects
Of civilization;
During that summer--
Which may never have been at all;
But which has become more real
Than the one that was--
Watermelons ruled.
Thick imperial slices
Melting frigidly on sun-parched tongues
Dribbling from chins;
Leaving the best part,
The black bullet seeds,
To be spit out in rapid fire
Against the wall
Against the wind
Against each other;
And when the ammunition was spent,
There was always another bite:
It was a summer of limitless bites,
Of hungers quickly felt
And quickly forgotten
With the next careless gorging.
The bites are fewer now.
Each one is savored lingeringly,
Swallowed reluctantly.
But in a jar put up by Felicity,
The summer which maybe never was
Has been captured and preserved.
And when we unscrew the lid
And slice off a piece
And let it linger on our tongue:
Unicorns become possible again.

-John Tobias

Jeez, I first read this 25 years ago, and it STILL gets to me when I read it.