Sweet Child O' Mine

Wordless Wednesday

(great idea taken from Jennifer and others)

Among Other Things, Winter Is Now A Stalker

It's snowing.
It's April 28th and it's snowing.
It's snowing huge flakes of snow.
This is not ok.
It appears that my letters to winter have done nothing but piss him off to an unprecedented level, that now apparently involves following me from state to state. For that Wisconsin, I am sorry.

The one silver lining to this is... well it is sort of funny. (ducking from the rotten tomatoes being thrown at her by readers)
These are some emails I got today after I emailed my friends: "Please look outside. Then give Mother Nature the finger."
Shelly responded with "I’m already out of my chair, bent over with my pants down and my butt pressed against the window! Take that you little @#$%!"
and Richelle said "I called my mom and she says she prayed that I would have the worst winter ever so I would want to move to Texas, she didn't think God would take her so seriously."

Hang in there folks. It should stop snowing by June. OK maybe July. Then again this might be the first year ever that the 4th of July fireworks are snowed out.
"Mommy, can we go to the pool today?"
"Sure honey! Don't forget your mittens and your new sled!"

Maybe then my office mate would finally believe in Global Warming. Yeah I'm not holding my breath either.

The Land of 10,000 Lakes and a REALLY Good Time

This past weekend, Ben and I traveled up to Minneapolis to see some of my college friends. My friends Jen and Clay have a son Jake who is exactly 2 months older than Ben. And he has SUCH cool stuff.
It was great fun, despite the rocky beginning. Translation: the Road-Trip-From-HELL. I won't give you the play by play because trust me, there are parts you are better off not knowing. I will tell you it included, in no particular order:

• torrential downpours
• the child saying after just ONE hour of the 4 1/2 hour car ride "Are we there yet?" and when he was told him we had another 3 hours to go, I thought the guy was going to puke.
• massive traffic jams in the middle of nowhere that made the once 4 1/2 hour trip, close to 6 hours
• roads that we needed to take being closed
• a visit to a ghetto Walgreen's
• and yet more traffic jams.
  

The next morning, good ole Minnesota welcomed us to her fair state with this wonder of nature:

Clearly Winter and Spring still haven't figured out whose turn it is to control the remote.

Please keep in mind that when we left Madison it was 71 degrees. PMS much Spring? Therefore my child had no coat, was wearing shorts and I only brought these shoes.


So yeah. That was fun.

Since doing anything outside was out of the question, we made the GREAT decision to take the boys to The Mall of America. Ah, MOA. Such a place of serenity. Of calm. Of happy parents, quiet children and such reasonable prices. The Mall has this power that as soon as I stepped through those magical doors, the spirit of "Kmart Mom" came rushing over me. Suddenly I grew bad frizzy bleached hair, was wearing green eye shadow, smacking on my gum, carrying my coupons while wearing uncomfortable pumps and tights jeans. All the while screaming at my kid that if he didn't "SHUT UP HE WAS GONNA BE HEARIN' ABOUT IT IN THE PARKIN' LOT REAL SOON!"


We did manage to get through the Nickelodeon Universe park without injury. The boys drove the bumper cars and later Ben and I went on the Log Chute. I don't care how old that ride it, it still rocks!

Finally, when I thought I was the only one that was having sensory overload issues, Jen said through clenched teeth "If we don't get the hell out of here soon I'm going to scream!"

Then there was Saturday night. I soon realized, you can take the girl out of the sorority but you can't take the sorority out of the girl.

Fifteen years may have gone by since our hey days at Kappa Alpha Theta, but you wouldn't have known it by looking at our moves on the dance floor that night. It was as if a time machine took us back to 1993 and we were lookin' goooood. Although I blew my 21 year old cover when I muttered to Anne "I'm going to be so sore tomorrow..."

There is something about being around friends that have known you for such a long time to make you feel centered. Plus, those are the only group of people who call me solely by my last name and still ask if I'm a vegetarian.

We will be back up there soon but first a written legal contract needs to be drawn up between Jen, Clay and I that states they will NEVER again subject us to the horrors of The Mall and my liver needs to do some serious recovering.

A Letter To Ben's Future Wife

Dear Future Daughter In Law or Little Becky as we like to call you,
(Oh I know you think that it's really weird but Ben and I think it's so cute!!!)

Hi! How's it going with my kid? Good huh? Sorry about his really crooked teeth but when he was little it was either buy gas at $4 a gallon or orthodontia and well, I had to get to the mall and my pedicure appointments!

But he's a great husband, isn't he? Wanna know why? Because I shaped him up good!

*When he wanted to eat his granola bar while going to the bathroom, I said "ah, no."

*When he wanted to get a tattoo of a panther playing a guitar with the words "ROCK ON!" on his bicep, did I rush him to the nearest tattoo parlor? Noooo! I said "Um, maybe wait until you are 20. You might change your mind about the design."

*When he would just dropped his dirty underwear on the floor, I would make him pick it up and put it in the laundry room.

*When he would leave his dishes out, I would make him put them into the sink.

*When he put the ice cream in the sink instead of the freezer, well then I didn't actually say anything because hey, life is hard and confusing.

*The one time that he didn't hold the door open for me, I pitched such a fit, he did it EVERY TIME since then. With a smile.

*The guy actually likes to clean the toilet. So whatever he might tell you, don't let him get away with not doing it.

Really. You are welcome. There is no need to thank me. I'll just take 3 grandchildren. Preferably at least one girl. Oh and could you name her Anna after my grandmother? Thanks!
You know, I think me living with you guys is really working out well. Don't you?

Much Love,
Ma

Oh and p.s. we are out of Diet Coke and Ben and Jerry's S'mores ice cream. You know how I can't go to sleep without that stuff. Oh and for some reason my TIVO isn't recording Rock of Love Season 20. Can you fix it? Um soon?! That poor Brett Michaels still hasn't found his love. It's just so sad. Thanks lovey!

My Salute to Earth Day

If you do anything in the next 30 days, please watch this movie!

I watched it last night and to say I was effected would be putting it mildly. After I turned off all the lights in the house, planned my move to a "Off The Grind" community, wrote a stern letter to Exxon/Mobil and professed my new love for Leonardo DiCaprio, I texted a friend of mine and said "Oh my god this movie! I'm going to sell my car and plant 100 trees. Tomorrow!"

OK maybe selling my car is a little drastic but I'm definitely reinstating "No Drive Sundays". This is something Ben and I came up with last summer where we didn't use the car at all on Sundays. Winter put a wrinkle in that one but now that the weather is better, there is no excuse.

So please dear readers, I don't ask you for much. Actually I have never asked you for anything! But I am now. Please. On Earth Day, go watch The 11th Hour and then go plant a tree. Or two. And then make someone else watch this movie. Mother Earth, and my future great great grandchildren thank you.

"Global warming is not only the number one environmental challenge we face today, but one of the most important issues facing all of humanity ... We all have to do our part to raise awareness about global warming and the problems we as a people face in promoting a sustainable environmental future for our planet.”
—Leonardo DiCaprio.

In Another Country Just 2 1/2 Hours Away

*I know this post is long overdue. But between chronicling my amazingly ugly days and destroying my son's childhood fantasies, I haven't had time.

Last week my mother and I went to Chicago where we celebrated my nephew Mendel's Upshernish and OY! What a time! It was full of nakhes and mitsve and mishigas! (translation for all you goyim out there) It was full of joy and good deeds and craziness!

I'll save you all the Google search. An Upshernish is when an orthodox Jewish boy reaches the age of 3, his hair is cut for the first time. This symbolizes the start of his formal Jewish education and the change from no longer being a baby but now a boy. In celebration of this great event, a big party is held where everyone gets a chance to cut a piece of the boy's hair.

This was Mendel's hair, three years in the making.

As many said "G-d must have been mistaken when he gave a boy this hair." Mendel's hair was truly amazing! Many of us were mourning the cutting of such beautiful locks.



(I don't know how he got the cut on his forehead. Neither does his mother. Hey, he's #5 out of 7, with the oldest child being 9. Give the woman a break.)

It was truly amazing to me that we were in downtown Chicago. Just blocks from Lake Michigan and Michigan Ave. You would have thought we were in Eastern Europe with all the men in their long beards, black hats and suits.

The celebration even continued the next morning as Mendel, with his cute new haircut, began his Jewish education, starting with the Hebrew alphabet.


It was a very joyous time and Mendel did great! We were all somewhat worried that he might freak out and not want to take part in any of this. But he surprised us all as he took to all this attention like peanut butter takes to Matzoh. (just a little nod to Passover...) Mendel was always a quiet shy child. It's almost like he was waiting for this time to come, to break out of his shell. I have a new found respect for little Mendel.

My sister and her family live in such a different culture, much of it I don't even pretend to understand. But one thing that I do understand is this is my family. My sister and brother-in-law have been blessed with 7 beautiful children and a community where they feel very supported and happy. So for that I am grateful. I will continue to support them all and be there for all my cutie nieces and nephews and their wonderful events to come.

The Tooth And The Truth Both Came Out

Last night after a very fun time at the UW Varsity Band concert (Thank you again Katie for the extra tickets!) Ben and I got home very late. We were both exhausted. But apparently not tired enough for Ben to pull his loose tooth out.

Keep in mind this is tooth number 8. For teeth 1-4 we made a pretty big deal out of it. Lots of cheering, lots of examining the new hole in his head, and lots of "WOW! What will the Tooth Fairy bring you?!?!"

For number 8 it went like this:

"Mom, my tooth came out!"
"Cool."
"Yeah, and it's bleeding."
"Yeah, that will happen."
"We need to get a bag for the tooth fairy."

Just the thought of doing the do the whole Tooth Fairy business was too much for this tired old mom. I was so not in the mood to have to wait for him to go to sleep, rummage around to find a dollar, stick it under his pillow, take the tooth, etc. And I thought to myself, "you know, this kid is almost eight..."

"Hey Ben? Do you REALLY believe in the tooth fairy?"
He smiles a HUGE GRIN.
"Yeah. I mean she does give me a dollar each time I lose a tooth."
More smiling from the kid.
"Ben? Can I tell you something?"
Now a chuckle from both of us. "Sure!" he says.
"I'd like you to meet the Tooth Fairy!" and I stuck out my hand for a handshake and we both laugh.
He says "I sort of knew it. But where are all my teeth Mom?"
"My top dresser drawer."

So he runs over, digs and starts to pull out little baggies of tiny teeth.

"WOW Mom! That's sorta gross."
"Tell me about it! So I guess the truth is now out."
"How did you get the tooth out from under my pillow and the dollar in?"
"Well, I'm just that good. Oh and hey, don't let this secret out to any of your friends. They might still believe."
He thinks. Then smiles again and says "I won't. So... where's my buck?"

I told my mother this story today and she laughed and said "Pretty soon you are going to be too lazy to do stocking on Christmas and there goes Santa!"

Well the kid IS technically Jewish...

If You See Me on the Street Today Don't Give Me Your Spare Change

I got to work this morning and innocently went into the bathroom. Just to look in the mirror and realize there was a 50 year old homeless bag lady looking back at me. Which is SO weird because when I left the house this morning I could have sworn I was a GOOOOOD lookin' 30 something hip mama.

What happened from the confides of my loving bedroom and my kind bathroom mirror to now? Are the lights really that bad in the bathroom at work? Or is it that now I'm awake (Thank you Mr. Coffee!) and can see the harsh reality that is me on this fine Friday morning.

When I got dressed this morning and let myself out of the house, was I sober? Was I sane? Was I of sound mind and body? I think not. Although I'm 99.5% sure I'm sober. How did I think that this baggy sweater, went with the t-shirt underneath? And where did these pants fit into the equation? How did I make sense of the necklace that has NOTHING to do with anything I'm wearing. and DO NOT get me started on my choice of socks and shoes. WTF! I'm so What Not To Wear's wet dream today!

The sad thing is, Josh isn't even here today so I truly feel like the Homeless Bag Lady who is not of sound mind and body as I sit in this office all alone talking to my inanimate object friends. "Mr. Coffee Maker? Do you think I'm pretty? How about YOU Mr. Fax Machine. Do these earring go with this necklace? What do you think of my shoes?"

What happened to me this morning? Usually I am fairly well put together. Maybe the earthquake in Southern Illinois DID effect me!

Well at least I know what I'm doing over lunch, now. REDO!

The Rude Awakening

Spring is here and with it comes reality. All that winter has masked, Spring unveils.
The snow melts and all the sudden you find that mitten you lost in January.
On come the t-shirts and lo and behold there is all that fat above your elbows you conveniently covered with the winter sweaters and forgot about.
The car that you didn't think sounded that bad, well the windows are now open and the sound coming from below could wake the dead.
Now that the windows are open you remember that you live right by a hospital and wow, those sirens are loud! Not to mention your neighbors. Were they always that loud and do they live OUTSIDE?!

Spring should be called what is really is. The season of Time To Deal With Your Shit. There is Summer and Fall and Winter and Dealing With Your Shit.

I love Spring. I do. But sometimes I realize I'm not ready for this level of truth and reality.
When did my toes and heels get that ugly?
Why won't these crop pants fit me now?
Is my floor really that bad? In the bright spring sunlight it looks like I haven't cleaned all winter.

And perhaps I haven't. Such is the glory of winter. Yes I know. I do hate The Winter. BUT the one solace that winter has is that everything can easily be covered up. Even the most productive person can be truly lazy and it's 100% acceptable. It's even recommended at times.

Eh, we have no groceries. But I'm not going out. Did you see it's raining ice? Better order a pizza!
I can't possibly go to the gym! The weather man told me NOT TO LEAVE MY HOUSE! He's almost a scientist. He knows what he's talking about.
All this snow and cold makes me want to eat. Lots of warm fatty food. It's OK. It's winter. My turtleneck sweaters and sweat pants will cover it all.

But this behavior is finite. It ends. It ends when the birds start to chirp, the grass turns green, cute little flowers are poking their heads out of the ground. And then, everything is out in the open.

It's like we are these half Homer Simpson, half bear creatures emerging from our winter hybernations, yawning while scratching our big bellies. We lumber out of the cave of winter, into the bright light of spring. We wait for our eyes to adjust to the sun as we take in all the wonders that come with the new season. Until spring, who has taken on the form of Cher from Moonstuck comes up to us and slaps us square in the face and yells, "SNAP OUT OF IT!"

You heard her! Get those pedicures! Get to the gym! Fix those loud cars! And tell those neighbors to SHUT. UP!

Get going! Summer will be here before we know it.

Lost 4 pounds and 2 sizes

My little guy has some serious hair. You would have thought I mated with a horse, as his hair is almost the consistency of a mane. It is crazy thick. I could bet all the money I had that every time we get his hair cut, the stylist will say something to the effect of "wow, he has a lot of hair" Yep. He does. Thanks for pointing that out. Would you also like to point out that Brett Favre retired or that the sun is shining?

Ben hates to have his hair cut because he so badly wants to look like this guy. In case you aren't familiar with the stud muffin below, this is Anakin Skywalker

The thing is, Ben's hair grows UP not DOWN. And it's just so massive who knows what creatures might be living in there. Also I think it almost starts to distort his head. Makes it look like he has this HUGE mushroom head. And trust me, his head is big enough that he doesn't need any help of the hair.

It had finally gotten to the point that something needed to be done.

This is the BEFORE shot:

And this is after:

(he's pointing at his hair in this picture, not the ghost like thing that showed up. CREEPY!)

He looks less than pleased. But trust me, I'm thrilled. I have my kid back.

Speaking of hair cuts, my mom and I are off to Chicago today to partake in my nephew Mendel's 3 year old haircutting ceremony or Upshernish as it's called. This is one of those times that I love Google because instead of me trying to explain it, you can read about it here!

Does He Know Something I Don't Know...

When picking up Ben from my parents house today he came running at me full speed ahead and gave me the biggest hug the little guy could muster.
"MOMMY!"
"Hi Cutie!"
"MOMMY! You are leaving tomorrow!!" he said while still hugging.
"Honey, I'm just going for one night. I'll be back on Wednesday. I'll even be back in time to take you to soccer practice."
"But I'm going to miss you soooo much!"

[In the car on the way home]

"What do you want for dinner? Mac and cheese and green beans or mini corn dogs?"
"Um, what's the other choice?"
"There is no other choice"
and then mustering up his best dramatic voice "But Moooom, this is out last night together. Let's go out to eat!"
"Honey, I just got back from the gym. I'm all sweaty and gross"
"But we need to make this night SPECIAL. Please!"
"Wow, really? Honey, it's ONE night. It's like having a sleep over at Grandma and Grandpa's house."
"But it's longer than that. It's like 1 1/2 days!!!"
"Fine, how about Subway?" (Trainer Bob would be so proud)
"and then Dairy Queen, Mommy?"
DOH! Scooby Doo hypnotized eyes. Did someone say DQ?!!?
"OK!"
"Then we will go home and snuggle."
"Dude! We are SO getting DQ!"
"You're kinda weird Mom."

You might be thinking to yourself, "Wow that kid just played her like a fiddle."
Oh no Grasshopper. I don't have to cook dinner, therefore there are no dishes to do, AND I'm getting me some DQ! Who wins NOW!?

Google THIS!

When I was a kid, WAAAAY back in the day, and I asked my parents a question they didn't know, they would simply say "I don't know" or worse "Look it up in the dictionary." And pluheeez, what kid actually did that? I know! The smarty pants who developed GOOGLE!

Now don't get me wrong. I love me some Google. I use it like an addict every day. Even if I know the website, eh, it's easier just to Google it. (Plus they have cute employees!)

However as a mother, Google is my nemesis.

First off, now when Ben asks me a question that I don't know, I can't simply pass it off as "Don't know kiddo..." or "Look it up in your set of encyclopedias that Aunt June gave you..." For one, he doesn't have an Aunt June and secondly we don't even own a dictionary not to mention any encyclopedias. So I'm stuck with the response from him of "Well, Google it!"

Case and point, the other evening I was IM'ing with my cousin Amy when Ben asked "What's a Nova?"
"Ah, a star sort of"
"Well is it a star or not?"
"Oh Honey I really don't know."
"Well, Google it!"
"But I'm chatting with Amy"
"Just open another tab and Google it quick"
"Are you 17 or 7?"
"Mom!!"
"Fine. A Nova 'is a cataclysmic nuclear explosion caused by the accretion of hydrogen onto the surface of a white dwarf star.'"
"OK now what is a Nova Dragon?"
"A what?? Oh. My. God! are you serious? I have no idea what a Nova Dragon is."
"GOOGLE IT MOM!"

You see where this is going.

Secondly, you can no longer pass things off as if they don't exist. When your child asks "Let's find a computer game where you can create your own pirate."
Before the Google days I could say "Oh young ignorant child. No such things exist."
Now it's "Mom, I'm going to Google 'Create Your Own Pirate.'" I'm sure you are SHOCKED to find out I recently had to take my computer in for a huge virus clean up. Now freelance Googling is not allowed - which brings us back up to the first point.

You see, Google? You may make life easier for some but for me, you're a pain in the tush.
Maybe I should sue them for Mental Anguish just like these folks did.

Then again, Google isn't a company I would want to piss off. Can you imagine making THEM mad?

"I'm going to Google where the nearest Macy's is. WHAT!? The closest one is in Tallahassee? Weird. I could have sworn there was one in Madison. Well what about Crate and Barrel? Why is it taking me to www.yousuck.com?"

On second thought. Hi Google. Not really mad. Have you lost weight? You look SO SKINNY!

Hippo Bird-Day to Ewe, Pop!

Happy Birthday Professor!

Thank you for being the BEST father...

And the best Grandpa anyone could ever hope for.

I love you wider than the ocean
and deeper than the sea
and more than tongue can tell.

We Gave Back

Last night I got suckered into watching American Idol Gives Back. Trust me. This show had some serious SUCK YOU IN abilities. It's one of those evil things where you say all cocky like "I'm just going to watch it while I pick up the living room." 2 hours later you are still sitting there, on the couch sucking your thumb and muttering things in a monotone voice like "But Bono is going to be on and he's in AFRICA!"

There we were, Mother and Son sharing some quality time in front of the boob tube. At one point, while tearing up watching these children in Africa dying of Malaria because they didn't have mosquito nets to keep the bugs away, I looked over at Ben. There he was, freshly bathed in his highness's Bath and Body Works bubble bath, wearing his clean and cozy Land's End pajamas while playing his Nintendo DS. To say I had a pang of massive guilt would be putting it mildly. So I said "Hey, I want you to put that down and watch some of this with me. We are VERY fortunate. Look at those poor poor people." So he did. And soon he too got that Scooby Doo hypnotized look, until he snapped out of it and said "MOM! We have to call and give them some money!"

Now normally I'm the "I don't give money just time and blood" type. Really, I am the Red Crosses dream come true. I have 0 neg, and I'm lousy with the stuff. Plus needles don't bother me so every time there is a blood drive at work, I'm one of the first to sign up.
Unfortunately American Idol didn't want my blood. They just wanted my cold hard cash. Or rather my credit card number. And how could I possibly say no since I was getting it from both sides. My own flesh and blood looking up at me with THOSE EYES and then from those darling kids thousands of miles away. They were also giving me The Eyes. My Super Powers don't stand a chance when there are kid's big eyes involved.
Plus the idea of calling and possibly getting to talk to one of the top 12 American Idols was WAY worth the money. I wanted nothing more than to get Brooke White on the phone and say "Look sister, I'm going to give you some cash but first you are going to listen to me and LISTEN GOOD! Get a stylist who isn't on crack and do it soon. oh and p.s. STOP CRYING ALL THE FRICKIN' TIME!"
Well much to our annoyance the lines were busy. All the time! Nice planning Fox. Next time you get Myle Cyrus asking you to call in, get more LINES!
Have no fear! Ryan Seacrest to the rescue! "Folks, if you can't get through on the phone lines you can go to http://www.americanidol.com/"

So we did. And we gave. Not a lot (as I'm not Simon Cowell for god's sake) but enough for a mosquito net in Kenya. And you know what? It felt really good.

Gettin' His (ice cream) Fix, Any Way He Can

Sunday night after dinner with friends, Ben and I were supposed to go to the grocery store as all we had in the house was popcorn, green olives and mustard. "Ben darling! Dinner is ready! We are having your favorite tonight! Mustard olive popcorn casserole. Or MOP as Aunt Shelly calls it"

But since both of us loathe going to the grocery store - hence the dire straights we were in - we chose to go to Dairy Queen instead. I do really like this kid.

On our way home with our ice creams clenched in our paws, Ben said "Grandpa and I used to come to Dairy Queen every time I had a sleep-over. We haven't done that in awhile."

I smiled and replied "Well you should remind him of that honey."

Ben thought and said "Yeah, I will do that tomorrow. We would go get a video and then go to Dairy Queen and get vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce and then go home and eat our ice cream while watching the video."

Even typing this now, it makes me smile. Among many other wonderful things, my Dad is the definition of consistency.

I said "You know what? When I was little and Aunt Debby was at her piano lessons, Grandpa would take me to what is now Macy's but was then Gimbel's and they had a restaurant where the boys clothes are now. Grandpa and I would sit at the counter and have the exact same sundae. Vanilla ice cream with chocolate sauce."

Then it dawned on me and I exclaimed "Hey! I think Grandpa is USING us to get his ice cream fix!!!"
Ben laughed and said "Yeah! He's scared to eat ice cream alone so he has to take us with him."

Whatever the reason, thanks Pop for the sundaes and the memories. For both Ben and I.

Puppy or Boy?

I have never been one to segregate boys from girls. Ben could always play with whatever he wanted. In fact there was one point, much to my father's chagrin, where Ben fell in love with "My Pretty Pony". So my mom and I got him a big pink and purple horse. The kid loved it. And why shouldn't he?
I have, however, found there is one profound way in which girls and boys are different. Their energy. My sister has 7 kids (that's a post for another time) 5 are girls and 2 are boys. Her oldest boy is now 4. For the longest time, she couldn't figure out why after a Sunday of being inside the house all day he would go up and attack an innocent younger sibling or just walk over to his sister and throw down her artwork. The kid was purposely trying to pick a fight. Why? Just because he was bored and his boy juices were taking over. My mom finally told her "Debby, you need to run him!"

Not all boys are like this. My guess is that it's about 70% of the population of young boys need to have this energy in them worked out. Some are content just reading, watching TV, drawing all day. Ben isn't one of those. There were times this winter when I couldn't handle the caged animal that was in my house who was literally jumping off the walls.

So I would take him to the park across the street with one instruction. "Child. Run! and RUN HARD!" After 20 minutes of running and flopping and tackling the snow, he would be sane again. All his little nerve endings happily tucked in once more.

While in Seattle, my cousin Dan's wife Kate understood this phenomenon... as she has two puppies of her own. One day while we were there, we had a lovely lunch and then afterwards she asked "What do you guys want to do now?" I looked at her longingly and said "Um, I really need to run Ben." Luckily, she not only didn't think I needed to be committed. Instead she looked at me and smiled and said "I understand completely." So we off we went to this great park with the puppies tucked in their car seats in the back, panting for their soon to be freedom. We got to the park and they were off.
At one point Kate said "Hey Ben! How fast can you run to that tree way over there?" He replied "SUPER FAST!" "OK, let's see... we'll time you!" When he ran and then came back, I said "40 seconds! Good job!" Kate, being the very smart mom that she is said "WHAT? That wasn't fast! I think you can do that faster!" Sigh. Kate. She is a Wild Boy Whisperer. After five races to the far off tree and back, Ben was finally winded. And I hugged Kate.
This is Ben and his friend Joe who came over to play on Sunday. I ran them. And when they wanted to come inside to play Nintendo I said "Nope, not yet. Your tongues aren't hanging out and you aren't grasping at your chests desperatly trying to get some air." Joe looked at Ben and said "Your mom is weird."

So dear readers, for the love of everything in your home, including the sibling that doesn't want to get hit in the face because she breathed wrong, or the family pet who doesn't want to be ridden like a wild bull or even for the new antique dresser that you just bought who doesn't want to be climbed on like Mount Everest, RUN YOUR BOYS! And when you think they are tired, RUN THEM AGAIN!

A Letter To The Streets of Madison

Dear Streets,
Hi. How are you? No really, how ARE you?

I know it's been a really hard winter. It has for all of us. I understand it has been especially difficult for you with all the salt and sand and those heavy snow plows running on you day after day. Not to mention the ice that was just stuck on you for months at a time. It was bad. I know. Try not to think about it.
But um, well this is awkward but, Streets, honey, you are falling apart and I'm worried. Truly worried.
Today on the way to work, I hit a pot hole the likes of the Grand Canyon. When I hit it, it sounded like a gun shot hit the car. I don't really need to tell you how Blade is in a very fragile state these days and he doesn't need this added stress.
I guess I'm just asking and pleading for you to hang on. You are strong! You are CONCRETE for God's sake! Don't you forget that! Don't wither away before those handsome worker men can get out there and repair you. Hold on to what you got! You can do it. I know you can.

Sincerely,
A Believer In the Strength of the Streets!

*Constantly counseling the inanimate objects in my life is getting to be exhausting. I'm like the Dr. Phil of all things not real.

The First Chapter of Ben and Stella

Ben and Stella met in 2002 when they both attended the same preschool. Stella's mom and I become fast friends as we were both doing this motherhood thing on our own and therefore had a lot in common. Not to mention, she had the cutest 2 year old girl I had ever seen.

It also took Ben and Stella maybe 5 minutes to become good friends. Right from the beginning they were laughing together, getting into all sorts of mischief together and just being babies together. (anyone under the age of 4 is a baby to me)

From an early age, Emily and I would take turns having the little punks over to each other's homes so the other single mom could get a breather.

One of the things I loved about Ben and Stella's friendship from early on was that they never had the boy/girl gap. They were just best friends. And since neither of them had siblings, they played that role for each other as well.

There were never questions of "Where is your Dad?" or "Why do you just have a mom?" and for that I was always grateful. It was just so easy for the two of them. Effortless.

Birthdays were always celebrated together. Camps were attended together. They stayed in the same class together all through preschool and then stayed friends after preschool. Through it all Ben and Stella were thick.
Unfortunately, sometimes adults don't play as nice as kids. Emily and had a "break up" for reasons so ridiculous we can easily laugh at it now. We weren't in touch for over a year. Recently we reconnected and at first I was worried that perhaps, now that they were older and had their own sets of friends, Ben and Stella might have a harder time getting their special connection back. I was clearly very wrong as just like the first time they met, it took about 5 minutes for these two to pick up where they left off. During their time apart, they both grew taller, skinnier, have lots less teeth and have moved from loving Barney to Soulja Boy. But other than those superficial differences, they are exactly the same.
Watching them recently pick up as if no time as passed has reminded me that good friendship's are such a gift. I truly hope that these two understand that notion when they are older and never forget these precious times. Something tells me they won't as they have a pretty good start.

“Piglet sidled up to Pooh from behind.

'Pooh,' he whispered. 'Yes, Piglet?'

'Nothing,' said Piglet, taking Pooh's paw, 'I just wanted to be sure of you.'”

My Baby Done All Growed Up

Ben is growing up before my eyes. Last night I looked over the dinner table at my boy as we were talking about the next National Holiday - his 8th Birthday - and I almost got sick. He's going to be EIGHT! That's so close to TEN! He's so big! Where did my baby go?
Just the other day he asked my parents to measure him. They have a wall in their kitchen with every one's heights on it. Sadly mine from childhood has been painted over. I see how I rate. But on there now are all the Madison grandsons.
My mom went into the kitchen to measure Ben while my dad and I were hanging out in the dining room. Soon after we heard my mom exclaim "Oh my god Ben! You have grown so much since August!" Proud Grandpa and I went in to see that indeed young Master Sewell has grown almost 3 inches since August 10th 2007! No wonder all his pants look like Capri's. I said "Wow guy! Did that hurt?!"


The major event that spurred the "I NEED TO BE MEASURED" episode was… dun dun dun… Ben got TIE SHOES! Yes I realize in back in my day there was no other alternative to tie shoes as Velcro wasn't even invented. We had a horse and buggy and I had to walk up hill BOTH ways to school in the freezing rain and snow. Everyday! But these days, ties shoes are for the elite children. Also known as kids whose parents aren't painfully lazy and can't take time away from their blogs and Oprah to teach their kids how to tie their darn shoes.

Things had gotten so desperate that on his 6th birthday, his friend Stella had to tie his bowling shoes for him. Clearly she has one of those "good" mom's.

Finally the whining and pleading from Ben to get tie shoes won over. Also the fact that the little dude is almost 8 and if I didn't teach him to tie shoes, Social Services would be knocking at my door saying "Ma'am, we have a complaint that there is an almost 8 year old boy in this house who reportedly can't ride a two-wheeler bike, doesn't like grilled cheese, won't drink or even taste soda and he CAN'T TIE HIS SHOES! He'll have to come with us."

So again being the very involved supportive and UN-LAZY mother that I am, my parents took him shopping on Friday night while I was out and about on the town. They bought him the coolest TIE SHOES EVER and even taught him to tie his shoes. (Thanks Dad!!!) If you want to stop here and go nominate me for Mother Of The Year Award, please do. I'll be here. Waiting.
Although, hey! I am the one who has documented this major occasion and published it on The Internets for all the world to see. So take that!

Check out that technique?!?!
And nope. You aren't seeing things. You are really witnessing the coolest second grader on the planet.

But Ben? Could you just stop now? Stop growing up. Right now!
OK?
Please?
I'll buy you a pony!

Thanks.
Love Mom.

The Tortoise and The Hare

Amy has inspired me to get in shape. She just recently started running and when I was in Seattle I saw how much she loves it and how great she feels. Therefore, I will emulate her. I have started a hearty exercise routine. 3 days a week I'm going to the gym, 3 days a week I'll walk and soon to be run. And once I actually get to all those days of continuous exercise, I will definitely let you know.
Yesterday I got to my parents house after work to see if my mom wanted to walk with me. Since she already walked, I was ready to go alone. Until my spry little child said "I'll go with you Mommy!"
"OK great but you have to really move honey. This is Mommy's exercise. No dawdling… OK?"
"OK!"
Out we go. Again I have to remind him to not trail behind. "Remember honey, I really want to get some- "
and he was already off! He ran up to the corner and waited for me.
"Sometimes when I think I'm going to get cold I run!"
I'm all, well this won't last for the whole walk.
Wrong.
Oh so very wrong.
Early on I realized, I am the Tortoise. He is the Hare. Except I wasn't going to win this race.

At the bottom of this huge hill, I prepared myself for the haul up. Ben took off RUNNING. UP. THE. HILL! and again waited for his Tortoise of a mother to huff and puff her way to the top.
Once up there, and onto the next block he called "Race ya to the corner" To which I replied, "OK, I'm coming to get-" And just like that he was already AT the corner, playing with a stick he found and digging up worms.

The child hopped, skipped, ran, twirled and TALKED the whole way of the 45 minute walk. Never ONCE out of breath.
At one point when we were on the bike path and the wind was blowing it's Gail forced winds directly at us. I leaned in, head down, determined to keep going. Stupidly I thought Ben would be behind me doing the same. All the sudden out of the corner of my left eye I see this blur of a 57 lb boy come flying by me arms outstretched shouting something about being the "King of the Wind!" As I muttered to myself "You have GOT to be kidding me. What did this kid eat for lunch?"
When we finally got back to my parents house, he exclaimed "That was fun Mommy! Let's do that again!"

"Hey. How many recesses do you guys have at school?"
"Three! Why?"
"No reason."

Old goal: work out 5-6 times a week, lose 20-30 lbs, feel great, look great, blah blah blah.
New goal: Just keep up with the kid.

A Letter To The WORST MOST STUPID DAY EVER!

Dear April Fools,
You suck.
You are seriously. not. funny. In fact you are painfully annoying. I would rather have 12 Valentines Day's in a row than one of you (and trust me A.F.D that's saying A LOT!) My new favorite day of the year isn't Halloween (sorry Halloween if you are reading this… I really REALLY love you… Miss you!) it's April 2nd. Why? Because then I don't have to deal with April 1st for 364 more days!

I think I have a fairly good sense of humor but I can honestly say, you aren't funny. Being on edge and not trusting your friends and family ALL DAY because they might pull a prank on you?!? How is that funny? What happened to you as a young Holiday? Were you overweight with bad acne and the uncool jeans? Did you not have a date to the school dances? Were you never picked first for gym class so this is how you get repay us for the rest of eternity?

I have had to deal with you for 36 years and I'm telling you, it's not getting any better.
Maybe my true disdain for you started when I was 7 or 8. Getting ready for school, minding my own business when I heard my beloved father scream from the kitchen. I flew down the steps, three at a time, to see what was wrong. Only to find my father standing in the kitchen holding his bloody finger in a box and screaming "OH MY GOD! I CUT IT OFF!!!!!!!" After I passed out and came to there was my sweet dad looking down on me smiling and saying "April Fools Honey!" I'm not sure I ever truly forgave him for this act and I blame it on you, A.F.D.

I also blame you for today:
*my kid telling me his favorite and most expensive pair of jeans ripped this morning. APRIL FOOLS!
*my child and I chasing down the bus through the streets of Madison, said child wearing the NON RIPPED jeans.
*me not wearing a coat today thinking it would be 50 when, no, that's tomorrow, the high will only be 32 today.
*the receptionist telling me on my way to my office - had I heard? Barack Obama dropped out of the race! APRIL FOOLS!
*my friend Emily calling me and leaving a message "oh too bad you aren't there, Stella and I were going to play an April Fools joke on you…" Thank god I was in the bathroom and couldn't get to my phone.
And this is ALL BEFORE 10 AM!

Why can't you be more like other firsts of the month? New Year's Day? Lovely. May Day? Sigh, enough said. Why must you insist on being a pain in the ass?

I truly can not wait to see what else you have in store for me today you Useless-Excuse-for-a Mock-Oliday.

Signed,
Not A Fan