This is the face

Of a 'Parent's Day Out' dropout.

Since the separation trauma that was Turks and Caicos, Ben's tenuous acceptance of his Thursday mornings with miss Carole was blown.  To smithereens.

So Thursdays, like all the other days, are now spent together! I remind myself that someday he'll be over this intense, tender, slightly stalkerish adoration for me.  And then i'll be FREE! But also sad that this 'stage' is over as his independence grows.

So when I'm doing my 'Thursday errands' with my little partner, and they take ten times as long, and are frought with tantrums, tears and arguments...I try to remember that doing errands alone didn't include any hugs and kisses from someone who thinks I'm a rock star.

But man, a little cooperation and obedience wouldn't be a bad thing...still waiting for that to kick in (though if he like his brother, it might be a long wait...)

More from the Desk Cleanup Front

A few days ago, I found a bunch of sticky notes.  They read as follows...

aiprool foolsdai praingcs

Poot drt in bens dipr

chainj momus hedband into my hedband

Poot popcarn undr momus peloe

This explains a lot of giggling heard behind the couch after Molly and Jack made off with my sticky notes!  What a hilarious window into the mind of a five year old trying to be 'tricky'.

A blast from Preschool Past

As part of my 40 bags committment (also so that I can function without needing to BE committed) it was high time to clean out my desk.  The drawers were so jam packed that the current filing was stacking up so high it was falling all over!  One of the key offenders to jamming up my filing drawer was Jack's school mementos from preschool all the way to today.  I keep a file for each child, for each year.  But after five years in the system, Jack's stack is about 7 inches thick! 

Today I started the project of weeding through each year's keepsake work and filing it in a handy new tote with 24 legal-sized sleeves.  It should last through college! 

One surprise was that a page of his preschool memories was covered in oil from a snow globe project that exploded in his bag that day.  It had degraded to the point that it's barely legible now, and was starting to bleed through to the other papers.  So it's got to get tossed.  But I wanted to record it here so it wouldn't  be lost completely.

ALL ABOUT ME AT PIED PIPER PRESCHOOL

At school, I liked to play with the blocks

My friends at school were Heather and Joseph

When I went outside I liked to do everything!

My favorite stories were about Miss Spider's Tea Party

My teachers were

Mrs. Pigeon, Mrs. Isenor and Mrs. Braddock.

Farewell to a Dear Friend

It was only a year ago when this happened at our house...

When we began our adventure, one of the best things about Chicago was that I already had a fantastic friend here.  She and her little family had been relocated to Chicagoland the year before (from Japan no less!) and she was a wealth of information, not to mention support, during our move.

Not too long ago, they got the call again.  It was time to move, this time back to where they started - the lonestar state!  Ever so happy for them that they can return to family and friends, but ever so sad for us that we can't just call them up and meet at the Children's museum, or the Land of Nod outlet, or a girls' night out at Francesca's.

The one thing that is for sure in life - nothing stays the same!  You have to enjoy each season, each blessing as it comes, because time stands still for no one and soon it can all change!  I'm happy that we did enjoy our time in the same state for all it was worth, and that we had a fun day together before it was time to go, along with some of our other favorite Illinois friends.

Smiley J. 

Princess A.

The Mr.

And his sister!

We had as much fun as a barrel of toddler/preschoolers can have

Playing in the school room with the windows of light that make me want to take pictures all day

'Borrowing' electronics from our friends

(by borrowing we of course mean pitching a Jupiter-sized fit until we got what we wanted and then refusing to give it back until our mom pried it out of our greedy, little, three-year-old hands. 
You know, "borrowing")

We enjoyed a delicious lunch
(like Mel had nothing better to do than cook for a crowd six days from moving day?  I'm kicking myself for not suggesting pizza delivery!)

Talk about service with a smile!

Some of us had trouble staying in our seats...

...and made heart-melting frowney faces in response to being made to eat a proper lunch.

Others would have eaten a proper lunch no problem....if only teeth weren't a requirement!

And if all that wasn't fun enough, then there was GYMBOREE!!!

We sat mesmerized as Miss Brittany sang us songs....

...rode the air log like a pro

Climbed UP

Slid DOWN

Crawled THROUGH

Acted SILLY

Smiled BIG

Peeked IN

And then it was time for bubbles

And Gymbo hugs

And Gymbo stamps

And a few indulgences, leading to an impromptu jam session

Are those blue eyes or WHAT?

And finally, teddy bear ears and pink cheeks, because no day of fun is complete without those!

Oh, and there was this too....

But this is NOT a "goodbye" photo! (sniff)  It is simply a photo of  dear friends tied together by a thread that will keep them connected whether they are in Akasaka, Massachusetts, Illinois, Texas, or anywhere in between. 

Potty Training is not for Sissies

I knew I hated potty training.  I just forgot all the reasons.  After four days of me, Ben and his turtle potty hanging out together, I remember!

The little guy was keeping himself dry all night, and could hold it during the day like a camel.  So really, it was just me holding him back.  I had to suck it up and do the right thing.

And just like I expected, he took to it like a duck to water!  Of course he knew how to go.  He's watched the rest of us file in and out of the loo for the last 3 years, he's no dummy.  But ask him if he wants to use the potty and the answer was always "NOPE!".  So I didn't ask this time.  I just told him, and everyone else "On Monday, Ben's going to learn to use the potty!"

I used my neighbor Kris' suggestion of a 3 day potty bootcamp.  Just Ben, me and loads of pretzels and salty snacks followed up by buckets of watered down apple juice.  By the time the kids got off the bus on the first day, he'd already had 7 hits!  The only 'miss' was when we were coming back from picking the kids up - he was wearing pants and they threw him off.

So pee?  Pee we've got covered.  But #2 is a different matter entirely.

He decided he wasn't going to go.  Ever.  I'm not into tough potty love, so I told him since we wear diapers when we sleep, and since it was naptime, he could wear one.  And then when he didn't nap, I let him roam in it for a while.  I figured it would give him an 'out'.

He didn't want an out though.  He just didn't want to poop!  So for three and a half looooooooooong days, he didn't.  We've been here before - it's a control issue.  I knew he wasn't constipated, so it was only a matter of time before the castle walls were breached.  But the WAITING, and the WHINING, and the

"Help me Mommy!"

"Hold me!"

"I need to sit on your lap, Mommy!"

"MommyMommyMommyMommyyyyyyyyyyyyeeeeeee!"

That, plus the fact Ben's poop-avoidance protocol is to jog around incessantly in circles, only stopping to put a death grip on my leg (face, neck, back, really whatever he can grab fastest)...was enough to drive me to the edge.

It's the constant state of red alert that a potty training parent has to be on during daylight hours.  It's like living with a bomb that could go off at any time.  And as the domestic goddess of the household, it's my job to make sure that NOTHING HITS THE UPHOLSTERY OR CARPET!!! 

So he jogs around, I jog behind him.  All.   Day.  Long.

Finally today, the end of the battle was imminent.   He insisted on having to hold me, so I stood there and let him tree-hug my leg.  For twenty minutes.  Thank goodness for Iphones, that's all I'm saying.

And still....NOTHING!

Finally I just gave up.  I logged on to check email for ten minutes and just let him go.  He was jogging all around the house, up the stairs, down the stairs, through the kitchen, over the couch, in the front hall, through the dining room and back again. 

"Let it fall where it may" I figured.  I was too exhausted to care!

And then a miracle happened.  He jogged over, plunked down beside me, and...

this

space

is

an

escape

hatch

for

those

with

a

weak

stomach

because

YES,

I'm

about

to

go

there...

PAYDIRT!

He apparently was even more exhausted from the ordeal than I was, and was in bed, asleep, before sunset.  It's 8:30pm and I am not far behind.

Tomorrow is our first diaper free car ride and play date.  Prayers would be gratefully appreciated!

Tenderhearted things you can learn from a dead slug.

You know it's really easy to label people.  Our spouses, our kids.  Even ourselves.  You get it stuck in your head that someone is one way, and then even though they are many other things as well, that one thing overshadows the others not because it's true (though it may well be) but because you mentally labeled it so.

I spend so much time some days/months/years dealing with the persistent/precocious/persnickety side of Jack's personality, that sometimes I miss the many nuances of his spirit.

The other day in the car we were reminiscing about Sluggo, our little slug friend that we found in our backyard last spring.  The friend that Ben and Molly refused to leave alone and kept sneaking into the house inside all sorts of habitats they created for him; a bowl with leaves, a watering can with water, a pocket...you get the picture.  Slugs just aren't that fast, so he never did manage to escape his suitors.

Eventually, poor Sluggo was loved to an early grave.  And to this day we all sigh and say "Remember Sluggo?" when we need to remind ourselves that sometimes the best way to love nature is to leave it ALONE.

So we were having that talk in the car the other day on the way back from who knows where, and Jack suddenly BURST into great big heaving sobs. 

"Poor little Sluggo!  He deserved to LIVE!!  I feel so AWFUL, so terrible.  He's DEAD!  Because of US!!  What a horrible horrible way to die.  Poor Sluggo!"

Of course this eventually wound it's way to vicious finger-pointing at the perpetrator of the murder, who was in fact, only two at the time and couldn't really be charged with a crime because of his ignorance of the ramifications of squooshing a slug....but I digress...

The point here is that I've got a brilliant, tenderhearted son who also happens to be many other things.  But for one moment I just wanted to preserve that facet of him. 

And maybe if I can seal it into my mind properly, then THAT is what I will see when the many other parts of his personality present themselves to me.  Not my challenging child that is also tenderhearted, but my tenderhearted child that is also challenging.

And maybe it will help me be more tender to him.

Erin Go Bragh!

I've always been enamored with all things Gaelic, Celtic and Irish.  In my twenties when I had free time, I took adult Irish dancing lessons, went to Irish festivals, listened to Irish music and when Marc and I got married we decided on simple gold bands with spirals etched into them to represent the neolithic carvings at Newgrange in Ireland.

And then I had kids....and kind of forgot about all that Irish stuff.  Molly attempted Irish dancing lessons last year but they were so boring the child was in tears.  I mean, there's only so much skipping a 5 year old can do before she falls asleep from the monotony, you know?

But Saint Patrick's day!  Now THERE'S a day when I can indulge and truly enjoy my Irish heritage!  Especially out here in Chicagoland, where the river runs green and Irish pride runs almost as deep as it does in Southie and Dot.

Naperville has a HUGE Saint Patrick's Day parade and I was so excited to go with Marc and the kids.  We didn't count on 30 degree weather and gale force winds though.  Or a rare Mega-Molly-Meltdown that caused us to be 45 minutes late and park a half mile away.  We got thisclose to the parade before the shrieking, whining, grimacing and kvetching finally made us turn back.

See?  THISCLOSE!!

So we went out for pancakes instead.  Whatcha gonna do?

At least we looked Irish.  Cornrows and Cableknits - it's all over Dublin runways these days.

On the actual St. Paddy's Day, we were able to celebrate in style with Auntie Trecie, who was visiting on her Spring Break from nursing school.  We also got to celebrate baby Cam's first St. Patty's Day too - he's quite the celebrity around here - even a diaper change requires supervision by all three Mallett kids with exclamations of "He's sooooo cuuuuuute!" and "CanIholdhim?CanIholdhim?CanIholdhim?CanIholdhim?".

I brutally overcooked the corned beef, but Uncle Paul poured a delicious black and tan that more than made up for it.  And because nobody really enjoys the cabbagey potatoes from the pot, I also made sure to have mashed potatoes and baked potatoes on hand.  Next year I think I'll skip the boiled veggies altogether in favor of baked or braised ones and cook the meat in the crockpot alone. 

All pf our decorations are courtesy of Dollar Tree, my favorite place for good stuff, cheap (there's no Building 19 in Chicagoland, so I'm safe with the copyright infringement I think).

We had some leprechauns too.  They were after the cupcakes!

These two below are the SWEET Leprechauns.

Just happy little sweet things they are.



Expand the picture and you can see the LOONEY Leprechauns that surround them...

Seriously?  All I said was SMILE, I swear. 

And then when you thought it couldn't get any crazier...

Why yes, that IS the new baby Skyping with his  Havanese furcousin.  Because it wouldn't be a holiday without dogSkyping.

Millie eventually let Nana talk too, she's not a diva like that.  Well, yes actually she is, but she's small enough that she can't reach the buttons without help ;o) 

Nana was looking great and we were all so happy to see her!

She had to get a close look at Cam's big toe because he clearly takes after her in the realm of wierd illnesses and foibles that happen to otherwise healthy people.

Cam's bandaged toenail, where a brewing infection had to be lanced.  Seriously?  Only three weeks on the planet and his poor teeny toe has to be assaulted?  Lucky for him and his parents, he's so good-natured that he didn't even wake up for the procedure.  Or when his awesome Aunt Beth went to kiss his "good" toe and instead kissed his "boo-boo" toe.  (he had socks on - I swear I thought it was his good toe!)

Poor baby, with a family full of screwballs.  Luckily, he's one of us, so hopefully he won't notice!

Happy Saint Patty's Day to everyone

 and Cead Mile Failte to the family Cameron!