the daydreamers

christmas

2012-01-05T19:31:00.000-08:00

Blame the ipad.

I've been doing most of my blogging from there, and for some reason, the application won't work anymore. Since I can't bring the laptop to bed, the blogging has been falling behind.

With that out of the way . . . .

Christmas was wonderful.

We had a great time creating gifts for everyone. There were homemade cheeseballs, chocolate pretzels, an ABC photo album, a giant canvas covered with 100-year-old love notes, recycled wallets, a hand-sculpted charm, and lots of love.

Today

2011-12-18T21:47:00.001-08:00

Today Kooka was the "angel candle reader" in the church Christmas program. She was so beautiful, and the way she smiled and waved to Yoda when she heard her calling for big sister, was my favorite moment of the whole thing.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

spin doctors

2011-12-14T10:30:00.000-08:00

It sounded like a snake oil sales pitch -

"Ten spins on our amazing spin board and your baby will be walking the line better than Johnny Cash . . ."

Whatever. I didn't think it would work.

I am surprised (and a little weirded out) to say - it did.

Yoda's gross motor skills have always been a little slow. It wasn't concerning me much, because she has a decent vocabulary, can identify half of the alphabet, and understands almost everything we say to her, but still the not walking was getting old.

At her 15 month check up, Dr. M, suggested we see a physical therapist for an assessment.

I had been, and knew that it had value for me, but I couldn't help wondering, how they intended to get Yoda on a treadmill, or working resistance bands, or doing anything at all for that matter. So it was with some reluctance that I packed our toddler up for her "not covered by our insurance" meeting with the therapist.

Walking into the pediatric clinic was not reassuring - it was nearly an exact replica of our basement: fold-out gym mats, a giant exercise ball, scooters, stuffed animals. What did this place have that we didn't?

Knowledge.

Yoda's therapist massaged her little toes to loosen the muscles, spun her this way and that, goaded her through tunnels, and helped her push a shopping cart so she could get food for her baby doll. That night she called with an assessment.

She was up to 4 months behind in her physical development. Not off the charts - she was still in the "normal range" - but barely. We were given a high powered sit and spin, instructions for daily massages, and permission to wrestle until she turned green.

So we did.

Every day I spin her. She loves it. We massage baby toes - and her baby feet are starting to loosen up. She walks now - all over the place. She rights herself, and gets up on her own. She lets go of our hands and explores the store aisles, and the windows at the zoo.

She is so happy and much less frustrated.

I still don't know exactly why this worked - but it did. She still has flat arches, which will not benefit her ballet career, but I figure we'll just focus on honing her tap dance skills instead.

quick update

2011-12-04T18:18:00.001-08:00

It feels like eons since I posted - and it probably has been.

Here are some quick updates:

* pro: after only 6 months Kooka got her braces off, and her teeth look amazing. con: she needs to have baby teeth pulled to make room for the new ones, or we may have to start all over.

* While Punk and Kooka spent Thanksgiving weekend with their dad, Rico Yoda and I flew to New York for our first holiday with Rico's family. They were welcoming, and sweet. Yoda was most thankful for the bling bestowed upon her by her aunt - she's been wearing it for nearly a week straight. *The next day was spent in Connecticut, where we hung out with Yoda's biggest sister Leah. Rico also took me to Cheshire, which is where he lived when we first met. We checked out his house, met a few friends, took a walk on his favorite path, and ate some amazing bagels. * We had one more stop, before we headed back to MN - a stop at Rico's boyhood home. We met up with two of our favorite people - Eric and Stef, for a tour of Flushing, NY. Rico had a chance to sit on his old stoop with one of his best friends, we tried two NY pizzas (tastes like Sabbarro to me), and three Italian ices (which were absolutely, hands down, the best thing I have eaten in years).
*The ride home was uneventful, except for the fact that the pilot kept pointing out the fact that the radar was predicting bumpy weather. he was right - but being a nervous flier, I don't want to think about radar, or instrument panels, or anything like that. I want to imagine that somebody is below my plane shouting "wingardium levi-o-sa" at teh top of their lungs, until we are safely back in MN - home of Pizza Hut - which is (don't tell Rico) the way pizza is SUPPOSED to taste.

all i want for Christmas

2011-11-20T20:54:00.001-08:00

We started our Christmas season the same way we always do: a trip to the mall for a picture with Santa, followed by a few hours of red-kettle bell ringing for the Salvation Army.

As soon as the Christmas season starts, the planning and questions do too:

"When will we get the tree?"
"What part will I have in the Sunday School program?"
"When can we make cheese balls?"
"What are you wishing for?"

This year, I was pretty clear with the big kids.

What I really want this year is for them to do something nice for somebody - anybody at all, write it down on a piece of paper, wrap it up, and put it underneath the tree. What I really want this year is to know that I am raising, thoughtful, well-intentioned people, who will help the world be a better place.

I think I am.
I hope I am.
But having the proof wrapped up in a little box, sure would be nice.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

seriously?

2011-11-17T07:47:00.001-08:00

I am pretty sickened that stores are opening on Thanksgiving day. I do not intend to partake. I hope you won't either.

savannah

2011-11-15T20:48:00.000-08:00

I always meant to post this little snippet from our summer roadtrip. I love Kooka's commentary, but it's pretty tough to take my eyes off of the background.

physical therapy

2011-11-15T20:18:00.000-08:00

Today Yoda went to physical therapy. She has what doctors like to call "delayed gross motor skills" and what her mother likes to call "a case of spoiled-rotten-itis".

Actually "rotten" isn't quite fair - she's a sweet kid, full of hugs, kisses and giggles. She'll give you a bite of her cookie, wait her turn for the slide, and shares better than any other kid in her mom-n-me class. So, I'll recant the "rotten" - but not the rest.

According to the professionals, she just has slightly low muscle tone in her quads, but is still completely in the realm of normal for her age (especially since the PT estimated she could have been born as much as 3 weeks premature). I still contend that our family's "always on the go" lifestyle, means this kid gets picked up and carried way too much.

Regardless, at the end of physical therapy today (I didn't even know it was possible to get a baby to do squats - let alone 3 reps of 5), she pulled off this astounding feat, and the whole family was there to help her celebrate:

why i love halloween

2011-11-05T18:16:00.001-07:00

Halloween has always been a big family event. Costumes are planned months in advance, the front yard decked out with gravestones and lights, fog machines rolling, hot cider and guests until 10 even on a school night - it's a big deal.

This year, as I rambled through the neighborhood with the girls (Punk was out with his own posse), I started wondering why I love this holiday. I couldn't come up with one good reason, but I can up with a list why this year's was particularly fantastic.

1) The weather was amazing. October in Minnesota is unpredictable, but this year, the weather was perfect. Chilly enough to be autumn, but not so cold the kids had to wear jackets over their killer costumes.

2) The bazillion kids that come to our house. Rainman Rico did the math - we passed out over a thousand pieces of candy (and we only gave 1 or two per kid!)

3) Our good friend Alisa was here. She had "just stopped by for a bit" but ended up staying for the mad rush of trick or treaters. She cracks us up and makes everything more fun.

4) Bonfire in the backyard.

5) My new secret cider recipe.

6) the best part for Punk and Kooka was having both of their parents and step-dad here with them. Dad airbrushing Punk's face, Rico cooking, Mom doing makeup and hair. Everybody having cider. It meant the world to the kids.

7) Savoring the last of the neighborhood hoopla, before the snow packs us in for the winter.

8) Yoda keeping her spider suit on most of the night.

9) White-chocolate-ghosty pretzel sticks.

10) AFTERPARTY!

scared

2011-10-28T19:48:00.000-07:00

We allow ourselves about 2 nights of junky TV a month. Last week, it was Kooka and I snuggled on the couch, when we ran across an episode of Ghost Hunters.

The three guys and two mediums were exploring the Lizzie Borden house, at 2am.

I told Kooka we should turn the channel. She begged me not to, and instead got me talking about the history of the place, and the trial, and before I knew it, 15 minutes had passed, and there was no way for me to take back what she'd already seen.

It was some scary-@$$ stuff. Drawers moving, unearthly voices that were clearly screaming "Tell her about the girl." "Lizzie did it."

Nevermind that after Blairwitch, nobody believes any of this documentary style stuff anyway. Still, I told her it was time to shut this off. It was NOT appropriate bedtime viewing. What kind of mom lets her 9 year old watch this freak show this late at night? She rolled her eyes and assured me she was fine. (Punk on the other hand, took one look at the screen, looked disgusted at both of us, and bolted back upstairs).

So the show ends, Kooka goes into her dark room to sleep alone, calls out "goodnight mom."

WTH?!

I spent the entire night with a light on, holding Rico's hand and swearing there was somebody (or something) in my closet.

I TOLD her it was inappropriate bedtime viewing.

new game

2011-10-28T17:23:00.000-07:00

Yoda loves this new game. Sort of makes all of us giggle.

truth

2011-10-25T05:32:00.000-07:00

As Punk prepares to go on a three day camping trip with the entire 7th grade, I say to him.

"I expect that you will behave exceptionally, and that I will not get any phone calls telling me you've done something you shouldn't."

Him: "Of course you won't Mom. . . . they don't have phones up there."

Thorncrest farm

2011-10-24T20:11:00.001-07:00

We love to go to Thorncrest farm to pick our pumpkins. Kooka is the pickiest pumpkin picker. Punk loves the animals. Rico loves the novelty of it all. I love the family that owns the place. And Yoda, loved it all.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

stuff

2011-10-13T19:51:00.000-07:00

I often think about the amount of stuff in our house.

I hate stuff.

Wait - I take that back. I love stuff, everybody loves stuff. BUT, I hate too much stuff; I hate unnecessary stuff; I hate stuff that comes wrapped in three layers of plastic and two layers of cardboard; I hate stuff that clutters the closets and the counters and the foot of the bed.

I am constantly trying to get rid of things - which is funny, because people are constantly trying to give me things. This is tricky for me, because try as I might, I can't seem to find the right words to say, "Listen honey, I have trouble enough organizing the 4 mixing bowls that I allow myself to own, so while I appreciate you thinking of me while at the Kohl's 17-hour sale, I really don't need any beaded throw pillows, tangerine/musk ox shower gel, or 8 mint-in-the-box monogrammed handkercheifs." (Especially when the monogram is an F.)

I must look like some sort of "crap" magnet - because I seem to attract more stuff than I know what to do with. And lest you think I sound ungrateful, I assure you - I'm not. It's just that too much stuff in the house stresses me out. We love the generosity of our friends and family, but I'm just not getting why somebody buys pomegranate/goat-urine hand lotion in the first place - and why they think I need a bottle.

But I digress.

I make monthly trips to the Goodwill in an attempt to divest myself of the suffocating mound of clothes these kids seem to outgrow. Usually, I buy new things there as well - shirts for Yoda, snow boots for the big kids, jeans, sweatshirts - whatever. And the other day, as I was looking around the house, I realized that Rico and I have furnished this entire house with almost entirely used stuff. Everything from Craigslist, to Goodwill, to random things the old landlord said we could keep. Even our new bedroom is almost 100% totally, completely recycled - which feels really good. I sleep a little better knowing I didn't dump a bunch of packaging into a landfill, or import even more crud from a Chinese sweatshop. I'm not sure how environmentally sound the paint is . . . but seriously, we all have our limits.

before

after

one more time (and this time I mean it)

2011-10-13T10:59:00.000-07:00

We really do have a life.

It doesn't seem like it from these lame blog postings - but it's true. I intend to write about the reading hour and breathing room, and the things we inherited . . . but not until I finish this stupid logo.

Obviously I just was not happy with the purple one, or I would have posted it on the art in motion website. So I retooled it a bit - and I think this is finally, really, truly, probably it.

Input?

PLEASE!

grandmas

2011-10-07T06:18:00.000-07:00

Yoda lost both of her grandmothers last night. One 34 years ago, and the other has been gone just hours.

It would be easy to sit here and ruminate - to be upset for everything that she will never have, so instead, while Rico is in Florida (he made it just in time to say goodbye), Yoda and I will go celebrate Grandmas. I will take her to the library and read her as many books as she wants, let her eat extra cookies, rock her a little longer at naptime, play peek-a-boo instead of folding the laundry.

Today I will love her in all of the ways they want to - and never could.

one more time

2011-10-03T20:48:00.000-07:00

OK - I think this is close . . . the guy is heads up, and the color is different. Please tell me what you think, so I can finish this and get back to my life . . . .

more help

2011-09-27T20:03:00.000-07:00

Thanks for the input on the logo. I've rearranged it - but haven't had time to put it up yet (class is going well, but keeps us busy). Next question is color - Kooka likes purple, but says we could also leave it red. Punk likes red. Rico is color blind. Yoda licks the screen. And I am convinced taht my opinion does not matter nearly as much as the people who will keep seeing it.

What do you guys think - options on the table are: red, turquoise, purple, and possibly a very vibrant yellow.

new logo

2011-09-22T09:56:00.001-07:00

New logo for the new studio is on the right.

Like it?
Loathe it?
Please tell me before I spent any money actually using it.

newsflash

2011-09-16T19:29:00.000-07:00

It's been strictly madness since school started . . .

- My new dance studio opens this week.
- Rico started his new job teaching at the college.
- Kooka is keeping up with 4th grade homework, dance and piano lessons.
- Punk has joined the school news team, where he anchored the morning announcements and actually signed off today in his best Porky Pig voice - "That's all folks."
- Yoda started ECFE classes, is doling out kisses like crazy, and can say "more" "water" "dada" "up" "woof" and "yeah, yeah yeah". My left bicep is a testament to the fact that she still hasn't figured out to walk.

I wish there was more time to write. But there is barely time to think. Yoda is a needy kid, and when she naps, it is time for homework with Punk and Kooka. By the time we climb into bed, I have hardly seen Rico and we are both exhausted. I hope it gets better soon.

grrrr

2011-09-14T14:45:00.000-07:00

In Punk's school planner, it says that every child is entitled to a free public education.

Why then, have I dropped over $400 in school and field trip fees in under a week?

WTH is free about that?

Homeschooling was a notebook, a pencil, and a library card. Total cost 86 cents. If we splurged for annual memberships to the zoo, and science museum, as well as art class - it was still under 200 bucks. Grrrrrrr.

first day

2011-09-07T08:39:00.001-07:00

I hate the first day of school. Hate the way that the whole neighborhood goes deadly silent from 8 to 3; hate the 6 am wake-up call; hate that Punk and Kooka all but disappear from my daily routine.

One child was very much looking forward to the first day. The other not so much. Bet you can't tell from the picture who's who - but if you've ever met them, you know.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

home again, home again, jiggety jig

2011-08-31T08:50:00.000-07:00

We're home again - safe and sound (well, safe at least). And no, I didn't write anything about the last day, because after 4 long road trips, I have surmised that there is nothing to write about between here and Cedar Rapids, Iowa. That is not an exaggeration - it is fact. The only thing that kept me from throwing myself out of the moving vehicle was the knowledge that Punk would eat the last of the licorice and Rico would have to deal with the ramifications of that all on his own.

I think the rest of our road trips will necessitate flying over the "corn basket" and parachuting directly into a rental car.

the great american road trip take 3 - owensboro to st. louis

2011-08-27T19:56:00.000-07:00

Rico and I ate fried chicken in Kentucky last night - we had to - it just seemed like the right thing to do. Of course, we pulled into the hotel late, it was from a chain (Zaxby's) and it was dipped in so much butter that we probably took a few months off of our lives. Then again, road-tripping like this has probably done the same thing.

We left Owensboro, Kentucky and made for St. Louis again. We had promised a stop at the City Museum. Yoda Nika's godfather, Bob told us about it, and her godsister told Punk that it was "the coolest thing he'd ever do." So of course, it was all we heard about from the minute we set off.

Alison knows her stuff. This place is like a giant, hand-sculpted, fully recycled, super-dangerous, how-the-hell-did-they-get-insurance, Chuck-E-Cheese. There were climbing tubes in the ceiling (with lead pipes right at forehead level), a 10-story-slide with nothing but a rickety fire escape to get you up all 10-stories, tunnels that led to god-knows-where and wire contraptions hanging over the balconies so you can climb down three floors if you feel like it - or simply slide your leg right through and FALL down three floors if you feel like it.

The museum is the work of an artist who purchased a warehouse, and used nearly 100% recycled materials to create the world's coolest jungle gym. The wristband says "use common sense - City Museum takes no responsibility for injuries you may incur." No kidding. Punk took a lead pipe to the head, Yoda fell through a hole under a tree (and I mean Riki-Tiki-Tembo fell - she was IN the hole - thank god there was a way out and she found it), Kooka flat out refused to go down some of the slides, but had no trouble scaling up a three story slinky.

Having said all of that - we hated to leave. It was the world's largest playground, and there simply isn't enough time to write about it tonight - but you really should check it out.

the great american road trip take 3 - charleston, knoxville, mammoth cave, owensboro

2011-08-25T20:15:00.000-07:00

A day late and a dollar short - that's how today feels.

I missed yesterday - mostly because we spent so much time on the road. (It took us 2 hours to get through a 20 mile section of the Smokey Mountains, because we were following a triple-long semi carrying a long-range-ballistic missile - yeah we saw it, and yeah we all freaked out.)

Despite the long drive (and the 'holy crap' feeling of following a nuclear warhead down a winding mountain road) there were some nice stops along the way:
*A roadside peach shop, where we ate fresh South Carolina peaches, cider, bread and salsa. The kids were amazed to discover what a real peach tastes like.
* A sidetrip to Asheville, North Carolina, which I loved nearly as much as Savannah, Georgia. We stopped at the Woolworth's Walk - which had been converted into a funky artesian shop. The old soda fountain was still in full swing, and we stopped at the counter to share a chocolate egg cream.
* We camped at a Red Roof Inn outside of Knoxville, Tennesse, where we had our 5th pizza of this trip.

Today was more eventful.

After a 3 hour drive in the backwoods of Tennessee and Kentucky, we arrived at Mammoth Caves National Park. We all agreed that the short tour would be plenty for us (especially since no strollers are allowed, and we knew we'd have to trade off carrying Yoda the entire hike). After our tour, we all agreed that it wasn't enough (despite the fact that Yoda fell asleep in her carrier and I had to carry her myself the whole time). The portion of the cave we saw was unbelievably HUGE. The tour was peppered with just enough cool history and creepy facts to keep everyone wanting more. But the best part was when the guide turned off all of the walking trail lights and we were immersed in complete darkness and total silence. It was one of the strangest sensations we'd ever experienced.

Almost three hours later, we pulled into our hotel in Owensboro, Kentucky.

Tomorrow we head back to St. Louis and The City Museum. the kids have been waiting for this museum since the day we embarked on this journey. We better catch some Zzzzs.

the great american road trip take 3 - charleston

2011-08-24T15:31:00.001-07:00

Soaking up a bit of the old South was on our list, so we decided to spent 2 days in Charleston, South Carolina. We had breakfast at the hotel, before heading to Boone Hall plantation in nearby Mount Pleasant.

After touring the mansion (the same one used in the movies The Notebook and The North and The South), we toured the slave cabins, where up up 16 people lived at once. Kooka seemed to be the most taken with this side trip, wondering how people could live in such opulence, at the expense of others. She noticed the receipt for a bag of sugar, a teapot and one Negro girl. We were all quietly scanning the advertisements for slave sales which listed the name, age and attributes of each human being. (Jane, age 14, house girl, bad leg).

Punk got up to leave shortly after the Gullah speaker gave a pointed look at both kids and announced that most people wanted to buy slaves between the ages of 9 and 14, because children were easier to break. Kooka listened to the rest of the talk, while Punk headed down to the cotton docks to be alone with his thoughts, and about a thousand crabs scuttling across the rocks.

Nobody could shake the deep sense of history after this, so after a quick lunch at Chik-fil-a for lunch, and a walk through the City Market, we pressed on.

We drove past the Slave Mart - a sobering visit to one of the only places left in the U.S. where slaves were actually bought and sold. We were all pretty quiet as we pulled away.

Next we headed to the Old Provost and Dungeon, which held pirates before they swung from the gallows. The animatronic pirates looked Disney-esque (circa 1964), and were more distracting than informative. And while the dungeon was creepy the third floor was beautiful, and we all had fun dancing on the exact same floor that George Washington waltzed upon during a visit to Charleston.

Dinnertime was spent at the Early Bird Diner. Homemade meatloaf, fried-green-tomato sandwiches, cheesy mashed potatoes, buckwheat pancakes and home style mac and cheese.

A swim in the pool, packing up for tomorrow, and bedtime for everyone.
- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

the great american road trip take 3 - savannah to charleston

2011-08-22T20:24:00.001-07:00

There were so many good things that happened today. There is really no time to write - but here is the top ten list:

1) Waking up to giant pretzels for breakfast. Punk slept with his so the rest of us wouldn't eat it.

2) A trip to Savannah's Candy Kitchen, where the choices were astounding: candied apples as big as Yoda's head, fresh pralines, gellato, fudge, and warm saltwater taffy - delivered to the barrel in some rube-golbric/willy wonka like contraption, that not only pulled the taffy, but twisted it, wrapped it, lifted it to the ceiling, and sent it over our heads into the next room, where it dropped neatly into a little tin bucket ala ever-lasting-gobstoppers.

3) Another stop at Ellis Park Fountains, where the four big kids got drenched.

4) A walk around Mercer house. (read Midnight in the Garden of Good and Evil - just do it).

5) A slow drive through Bonaventure cemetery. Even punk declared it "beautiful" - and he has a tendency to call things like this "creepy".

6) A drive on the backroads heading to Charleston, including stop at the sweetest little roadside shop, where they gave free samples of everything, including Georgia Peach cider, deep fried peanuts, bene cakes, glazed pecans, pickled garlic, and fresh blueberry jam. We bought a small pecan pie and shared it in the car.

7) An afternoon dip in the pool at our hotel - the Best Western Sweetgrass Inn. Surprisingly charming, with wonderful hospitality.

8) Dinner at Andolini's pizzeria. The pie was gigantic, and even Rico (who's incredibly picky about his pizza), proclaimed it to be "good". Punk and Kooka loved it as well, but christened Rico a blasphemer when he told them it was better than Casey's.

9) A short drive through Charleston at night.

10) A stop at the Piggly Wiggly, where of course there is a pig photo-op as you walk in the door.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

the great american road trip take 3 - vero beach to st. augustine to savannah

2011-08-21T20:44:00.001-07:00

I think I'm in love.

Vero Beach was gorgeous, St. Augustine was quaint, but Savannah, Georgia is everything I imagined it would be. I could stay here for weeks and never run out of places to wander and things to wonder.

Saying goodbye to Rico's friends in Vero was bitersweet. It was wonderful to meet them, to hear Rico laugh and reminisce. But the kids were sun-soaked, Yoda was clingy, and it was time to move on.

We made a short stop in St. Augustine, at the Castillo de San Marcos fortress. Punk loved it, because the entire place was like an incredibly authentic set from Pirates of the Carribean. We watched the cannons fire, and even saw a pirate ship sailing into the bay. But the heat was unbearable, and it was not long before we headed to St. George Street for ice creams.

It's a bucket list thing for me - to see the deep south, and Savannah is exceeding my expectations in every way imaginable. The streets are lined with great oaks, dripping with spanish moss. Homes pre-dating the civil war surround our hotel. Rico's brother Paul lives here, and after treating us to heaping plates of soul food (fried chicken, spicy collard greens, mashed potatoes, candied yams, yellow rice, smothered shrimp and cornbread) at Sisters of the New South restaurant, he took us on a mini-tour of his hometown.

We saw the Mercer house (the lights were on inside which sort of creeped me out). He pointed out the candy shop, where we plan to stop tomorrow. Punk and Kooka had a blast navigating the rainbow fountains in Ellis Square (both kids say it was one of the most memorable moments of the entire trip - completely unplanned, and completely wonderful - they were soaked head to toe and happily walked back to the hotel that way.) We watched the horse drawn carriages, listened to live music, and soaked up as much Southern life as we could in one night. Tomorrow we are off to Charleston, but I really wish we weren't.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

the great american road trip take 3 - vero beach again

2011-08-20T15:54:00.000-07:00

Rico had another early morning swim, and after that we met up with the gang at Mulligans for breakfast. Punk had the french toast, Kooka and I had giant pancakes, Rico had the bagels, and Yoda had - some of everything.

After breakfast, it was more of the beach. Punk took the boogie board and followed schools of fish in the surf. Kooka and I surfed the waves, and Rico's friend Stephanie, watched Yoda for a bit, so we could all swim together for a while.

We met up at the pool, where Kooka swam for another three hours, while Punk and Yoda took naps.

Rico and crew hosted a beach-side pizza party. Punk managed to coax a wild bunny into eating romaine lettuce right from his hand. Kooka nursed a wicked sunburn - despite reapplying the sunscreen several times, and everyone fell asleep full of good food, and warm memories.

Tomorrow we are off to Savannah, GA. There is so much to do, I hope we'll remember it all.

the great american road trip take 3 - vero beach

2011-08-20T15:48:00.000-07:00

Rico woke me up with a half gallon of fresh-squeezed Florida orange juice - icing on the cake is that Yoda didn't wake me up at all. All three kids enjoyed sleeping in, while I sipped OJ and Rico went for an early morning ocean swim with his buddies.

After croissants at a local sweet shop, we walked back to our resort, and headed to the beach. It was only steps from our door, and we spent most of the day there. Punk spent hours rolling in the turquoise surf. Kooka was his willing accomplice for most of the day, but the big waves coaxed her to shore where she spent some time building sand castles.

While Yoda napped, Punk, Kooka and I, took a stroll to Kilwin's chocolate shop, where Punk and I had chocolate covered pretzels (white chocolate for him, salted milk chocolate for me), and Kooka had caramel covered, chocolate drizzled marshmallows.

At 6, we were off to dinner at Frank and Sharon's house - which is the whole reason we took this trip in the first place. Frank lives here in Vero Beach and is one of Rico's oldest friends (as well as one of Yoda's godfathers). He invited over a dozen of his childhood friends for a reunion dinner. There is not much that can rival Frank's Italian cooking, (ask Yoda - she ate half a pound of pasta, and Kooka would eat a dozen meatballs if we let her), except seeing Rico re-connect with his friends.

Punk and Kooka spent the evening in Frank and Sharon's pool - only stopping for macaroni and meatballs, eggplant parm, and cake - which Frank had specially made to look like the stoop in Flushing NY, where all of the kids used to play.

We fell asleep late (after one more moonlit walk on the beach).

(Sorry about the writing - it is disjointed and I know it. Blogging and roadtripping with a toddler is a daunting task - one that doesn't leave me much time to process my thoughts, let alone my sentences.)

the great american road trip take 3 - tallahassee to vero beach

2011-08-19T09:25:00.001-07:00

Driving through the panhandle of Florida is exactly what a road trip should be - hand painted billboards for fresh pecans and boiled peanuts, businesses we'd never see in Minneapolis, like the combination snack shack/church (Dairy King/House of Prayer). It's too bad we didn't have a free minute to stop.

Aside from a quick visit in Cross City with Uncle Marty and Aunt Elaine, we travelled at a breakneck pace to make sure we rolled into Vero Beach in time for dinner.

The adventures for the day included:
*Punk, Kooka and Yoda getting to meet Uncle Marty and Aunt Elaine.
*Punk getting to drive the 4 wheeler.
*Rico rescuing the baby, but getting attacked by an army of red ants.
*Meeting Rico's friends
*Dinner on top of the ocean at Squid Lips restaurant, where the kids fed handfulls of fish food to disgustingly large schools of catfish, and Rico ordered a giant maple soaked sweet potato.
*A moonlit stroll on the beach with Rico.
*Punk eating calamari
*Sleep.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

the great american road trip take 3 - new orleans to tallahassee

2011-08-17T10:36:00.001-07:00

After last night's excursion, we were ready for some family-friendly entertainment. What better way to appreciate the south, than to take the two kids and the gator-bait on a New Orleans swamp tour?

We hooked up with Cajun Encounters, just 45 minutes down the road. Our guide, Bishop, led our boat through the bayou, feeding raccoons, goading gators into jumping for hot dogs, and showing us the Katrina ravaged section of swamp settlements. Punk loved the gators, Kooka loved all of the animals, while Rico and I loved the experience of being in a real-live swamp, and checking out the houses.

The swamp-side structures were straight out of a movie - it was almost unfathomable that people could live there - but they did - they sat on their porches and waved to the passing boats (the one I photographed was by far the most stable of them all). None of these things looked like they were sturdy BEFORE the hurricane, not sure how they managed to stay upright at all.

Anyway . . .we just climbed into the van for a 6 hour drive toTallahassee, where we will spend the night before heading to Vero Beach. I am hoping that by the time we get to the coast I'll have a chance to catch up and write properly, but for now, enjoy the pictures:

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

the great american road trip take 3 - memphis to new orleans

2011-08-17T06:24:00.001-07:00

A road trip with Rico and I, is nothing like a vacation - it's a non-stop, whirlwind, you-better-sleep-in-the-car-because-you-won't-get-a-chance-once-we-get-there, kind of adventure.

But I'll give credit where it is due - Punk and Kooka are amazing travelers and even baby Yoda has been surprisingly good. But we've just come in from dinner and dessert on Burbon Street, so the rest of the evening will be spent washing my older children's eyeballs and psyche's. Therefore, I need to make this quick.

* Punk and I could not leave Memphis without a tour of the Graceland Mansion. Rico and Kooka had no desire to see it, so they went in search of Krispy Kremes, while Noah and I stood awestruck in the hallowed halls of rock and roll. (and wow does Yoda look like baby Lisa Marie).

* After Tenesse, we spent a long and dreary drive through Mississippi. There isn't much to see on the interstate, but we did find a sweet little rest stop where we made pb&j for lunch before we pressed on.

* A stop at Baskin Robbins in Jackson, where we also picked up some boiled peanuts (you don't need to try them), and a Bach of fried chicken skin. Punk asked us to buy them, so we did. He thought it was tasty until he noticed the minuscule hair and feathers still attached. He promptly gagged and threw them out.

* Dinner in New Orleans. Cajun peel and eat shrimp for Rico and Kooka, crab meat pizza for Punk and steak for me. We watched street performers who were better than any dancers I've ever seen - including a kid Punk's age, who was crazy tap dancing with smashed soda cans taped to the bottom of his shoes. The bikini-clad topless dancers leaned out of their doorways to wave to Yoda, who clapped her hands appreciatively (hey mom look at all the milkshakes!) Kooka pretended not to notice, and Punk shielded his eyes - and begged to go back to the hotel. So we ducked into a very safe jazz garden for sugary beignets and ice water. We walked back at a pretty good clip and are finally getting to sleep.

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

The great american road trip take 3 - st. louis to memphis

2011-08-16T09:39:00.001-07:00

After a quick hotel breakfast, it was off to the Gateway Arch. We all loved the animatronic characters in the arch museum. They were detailed, fairly realistic and informative, but the best part was Punk beat boxing and singing C&C Music Factory over the top of the audio, so Lewis and Clark seemed to be breakdancing for Red Cloud.

Kooka wanted to ride to the top of the arch, but time was short. Besides, after testing the exhibit of the minuscule, airless capsule that transports visitors to the peak, I knew she'd be riding alone. As Punk said when we took our turn in the little orb, "I'm freaked out NOW, and I'm just sitting on the ground." Maybe I'll work up the courage
for our return trip, but there was no time today.

Highway 55 led us to our next stop - Cape Splash in Cape Girardeau, MO. For five dollars we swam, splashed and soaked for over two hours. Kook says it was the best part of her trip so far. Yoda was in love with the splash zone and riding with Punk on the lazy river. Everyone was worn out and ready to ride when we hopped back into Turk, ready to roll into Memphis.

We stopped at Topps BBQ in Marion, AR for ribs and a smoked pork sandwich. Forty minutes later we arrived at our hotel just in time for a quick swim. I rushed the kids out of the pool, because it was getting late, and I had something to cross off of my bucket
list : Graceland.

By sheer coincidence, we arrived in Memphis on the 34th anniversary of Elvis' death. Thousands of people surrounded the gates of Graceland, as a candle-bearing procession strolled through the gates. We didn't take the walk ourselves, we still had Beale Street to hit, and a vey sleepy baby in tow, but we made time to hit the gift shops and pass our baby off to an Elvis impersonator for a quick pick.

A walk down Beale St. And then bed. Tomorrow we head for New Orleans. (ps - I hate blogging on an iPad)

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the great american road trip take 3 - mm to missouri

2011-08-15T15:01:00.001-07:00

Go ahead, say it. I know you're thinking it, so we might as well get it over with. What else would you say about cramming ourselves, one pre-teen, a fourth grader and a wiggly one year old into our van for a 14 day road trip? "You guys are morons."

You could be right.

Punk and Kooka are seasoned travelers, but Yoda may give us a run for our money.

We kicked off the adventure with a 6:30 am wake-up call. After a drive-thru breakfast, we were headed south. If you don't count the stop for gas in Waterloo (and who would?), our first stop was a tail-gated lunch in the parking lot of the Planet X in Cedar Rapids, Iowa.

If you're not familiar with Planet X, you're not missing much, except possibly a case of gangrene. The duckpin bowling machine, arcade games and bouncy castle are circa 1987. All of the above are held together with copious amounts of duct tape and chewing gum. Thankfully, none of our kids have ever let the threat of lockjaw get in the way of adventure, so a good time was had by all.

Another few hours landed us in Troy, Missouri, home of the Luxury Inn. And yes we know - the name should have been a dead giveaway, sort of like buying shampoo at the dollar store when the label says, "this shampoo make beautiful hairs for you" - but whatever - after 8 hours in the car, we were ready to get out. Tomorrow we head to St. Louis and Memphis.

We're trying to blog from the iPad during this trip. It's new for us, so it. Could be tricky, but we'll do our best to keep you posted!

- Posted using BlogPress from my iPad

real

2011-08-08T21:38:00.000-07:00

This woman is my friend. She has been for years. And the truth is this: Sheila is an amazing human being, who always listens to her constituents - I've seen her stop eating lunch and stand for half an hour just to listen to some old guy complaining about property taxes. She listens, she cares - and Shelley Moore's ad campaign is painting her as someone who doesn't. It is sort making me vomit. I don't know Shelley Moore, or claim to have any idea of who she is as a person. All I know, is that if she is the kind of person who is attempting to win votes - not by touting her own attributes, but by running a negative campaign against someone who has done her best as a faithful public servant, then Ms Moore is probably not someone I want to know. So please watch this ad instead. or visit this link. (link). And if you live in Wisconsin - please vote. I wish I could.

good times

2011-08-08T09:57:00.001-07:00

Less than a week until the road trip begins. We're hoping for more wonderful family memories, like this 2009 gem . . . (check out how little Punk looks):

minnesota nice vs new york state of mind

2011-08-06T14:38:00.000-07:00

     I preface this story by saying "Rico is the man of my dreams." However, there are moments when I realize how completely different some of our social mores are - moments when we both look at each other and think "did you really just do that?" He claims it is his East Coast upbringing.
    I'm not so sure. I grew up on both the West Coast and the center of the country. I don't think ideology, or cultural norms can be that different - especially in this case . . .
    It's last Tuesday. Rico, Yoda and I are out running errands in Minneapolis. It's been a long day, we're hot, we're hungry, and Rico has a coupon for a free gourmet burger at a restaurant we've been wanting to try. We pull into Red Robin, plop Yoda into a highchair, place our orders and relax for half an hour. The burger is tasty, Yoda loves the sweet potato fries, the spinach wrap is excellent - it was worth the detour we took to get there.
   Rico prepares to pay the bill, while I take the little darling to the restroom for a diaper change. She stinks horrifically - but hey, she's a baby, I'm the mom - that's my lot in life. So I place her on the changing table, wondering why, if she's laying there, my arm feels warm and pasty.   I know before I look, that she has pooped spectacularly all over me. It is on my clothes, covering my entire forearm, in my hair (don't ask) - it is a masterpiece of Picasso proportions. Ironically, there is not much left in the diaper (thanks Huggies). I spend the next five minutes simultaneously wretching, wiping, rinsing, holding my breath, digging for a new diaper, balancing Yoda in one arm while literally scrapping the crap off of my other. It was bad.
   It was the bad that bad thinks is bad.
   So I manage to quell the gagging, and carry a clean and beatifically smiling Yoda out to her father. When I step out of the restroom, he is facing us, and as I gaze over his shoulder, I see that there is still a massive pile of steaming turd in the highchair.
Huge pile.
Tremendous pile.
Not even remotely hideable pile.
It's gross.
At this point, I don't even think he is aware of the problem. So I thrust Yoda towards him and say, "You need to hold her while I get some paper towels."
   There is panic in his eyes. He shakes his head and barely moves his lips when he whispers, "No - we've got to get out of here quick. She just crapped in the high chair and it's disgusting."
   What . . . the . . . hell? Is this really how his brain works?
   What he can't see are the two bus boys standing behind him attempting to clean our table. One is covering his mouth - the other looks positively appalled, and Rico is standing there, ashen-faced, tugging on his beard and nodding towards the door. Either he wants me to steal second, or still thinks we can make a break for it.
    I don't even know what to say at this point. Is he really attempting to make an escape here? Is this man, whom I look up to and respect with all of my heart, really attempting to leave a pile of our child's steaming feces in a restaurant for somebody else to clean up - or worse yet, to set another child into. "Wait, we can't. . "
    But he cuts me off, "I saw it when you picked her up. I thought it was guacamole, and that's weird because we didn't order guacamole, and it was a big pile, so I stuck my finger in it and smelled it, and it's NOT guacamole!!"
   I tell him about the "not guacamole" on my arm as well, and convince him that we have to offer to take care of this. Finally, he does ask the waiter for a wet rag so we can clean up - but the waiter says he'll take care of it, that he has a baby too. There is no argument from Rico as he bolts out the door. I apologize again to the waiter and follow sheepishly behind, secretly hoping that "take care of it" means "bonfire" or "hazmat", because no other family should have to endure that kind of contamination.
   Back in the car, the aroma lingers like a cloud of shame. But neither one of us can stop laughing. "I can't believe you would try to ditch out on that," I say to him."
   "I grew up in New York," he says, "and I am telling you that every single one of my friends would have done the same thing."
   "God - remind me never to use the high chairs in New York. I mean you complain when a dog takes a dump on our lawn - and you'd leave that at a dinner table?"
    "I'm serious," he says, "my friends would have left."
    "No, Frank wouldn't have. And remind me never to eat with your friends. "
   "OK - you're right, not Frank, but still . . ."

And that's where it ends - so now I'm dying to know - what would you do? It's like a pungent John Quinones special, and I have to know the answer, where do you stand - MN nice or NY state of mind? Take the quiz on the upper right corner and let us know.

summer

2011-08-05T08:26:00.000-07:00

This is actually for Aunt T - who said and I quote "Wow - you are really slacking off on that blog."

I KNOW - but it won't always be like this, but while I pack for a trip to the bayou - enjoy this video of Punk in 13, this pic of Gram and Yoda blowing out birthday candles, and Kooka playing Aloutte on a city piano in downtown St. Paul. Random I know - but less slacker than nothing at all . . .

soon

2011-08-03T19:56:00.000-07:00

It's been busy here - but with three kids, I don't see the cycle breaking anytime soon. Punk and I finished 13, Kooka and I finished theater camp, Gram celebrated her 95th birthday with Dani (that's what she calls Yoda). In 10 days we are headed on an epic road trip to the deep south. That's what's up with us . . .details will follow - I promise.

yoda's birthday song

2011-07-22T09:35:00.000-07:00

It doesn't seem possible, but somehow it is . . .

Yoda celebrated her first birthday yesterday. The festivities included a trip to the Children's Museum, coconut cupcakes, lunch at Mickey's Diner, a walk through St. Paul, a few presents, and a Happy Birthday serenade from the entire cast of 13 The Musical. (which coincidentally included both her big brother and her godsister)

More pictures are on the way, but for now, enjoy the best birthday serenade a one-year-old could hope for:

punk's little league

2011-07-14T09:45:00.000-07:00

Punk has never been a sports kind of guy. He loves to play, loves gym class, but has never been into competitive sports. He swims like a fish, can ride a bike, took Karate, can hit a pitched ball, and could probably outrun a middle-aged dog if his life depended on it. He likes to toss a frisbee, is pretty agile with a Razor scooter, and knows all of the retro dance moves . . . so who cares if he's never been in little league - right?

Apparently lots of people do.

Lately it seems as though he's had to defend the fact that he doesn't play sports - not to kids - but to adults. They're not entirely wrong - team activities are good for kids - good for everyone, but Punk has made his choice, and it seems to be a great one for him.

Punk's little league is theater.

I told him that he needed to take some activities this year, and asked what he'd like to do. Without even waiting for the options, he said - "I think I'm a theater kid, and I really just want to continue with that. It's my thing." Not that this was a surprise - Punk has been acting since he was 18 months old - throwing blankets over his head and stumbling around like a drunken midget, trying to get a laugh out of his family. But this was the first time he really seemed to give it some thought and make a statement about it.

And I am totally down with it. I don't think there is a single thing he'd learn from Pop Warner football, that he doesn't learn from theater: Be on time; work as a team; respect your coaches, your teammates and your audience; pull your own weight; encourage each other; work hard; make sacrifices; do your best; have fun; wash your uniform; and don't smear your eyeliner.

I think he's got it all down - except for maybe the last part.

If you want to check him out in his latest venture - get your tickets here:

PUNK in 13 the MUSICAL

13

2011-07-05T12:17:00.000-07:00

If you don't have tickets yet - get some. The music is great, the entire cast is absolutely charming, and you will be appalled at the things Punk's mother lets him do onstage.

weird

2011-07-03T08:33:00.000-07:00

It's been a weird week. And even though these things are coming at you completely out of context - there is really no good explanation for any of them:

•I heard my oldest child say to an adult - "I can be sexy for a lollipop. I can do anything for a lollipop." And I let it go.

•My youngest child has become obsessed with this sparkly Olivia Newton John 1982 headband. She hands it to me and cries until I put it on her head, then she army crawls from room to room, nodding her head to whatever Hall and Oates tune happens to pop up on Pandora. It's like being stalked by miniature Solid Gold dancer - one who didn't actually make the cut.

•We went swimming at Katie's pool - which was not weird, except for the fact that nothing has changed in the past nine years. Katie and I hung out in the shallow end with a baby, and Kooka attempted to drown herself by piling every possible flotation device on top of her head.

• I bought eyeliner for my son. because his old one was the wrong color.

•The only song stuck in my head right now is 13. And oddly enough, I can still relate.

if it's not too much trouble . . .

2011-06-27T21:39:00.000-07:00

Take a minute and vote for my kid in the cute baby contest. I hate for her to get a complex. If she doesn't win I'm bettering her chances for the next one . . . she'll be getting her tooth zoom whitened, and we have a spray tan appointment set up for Thursday.

CLICK TO VOTE FOR YODA

punk's new comic

2011-06-24T08:17:00.000-07:00

He has several - but I am a big fan of this one:

my real-life parenting skills revealed

2011-06-17T20:39:00.000-07:00

I am pretty, absolutely, positively certain that Yoda is sneaking out to the computer when we sleep and ghost-writing this blog.

At the very least, she is reading it, and nodding vigorously.

Bedtime Is For Suckers

birthday season

2011-06-12T22:19:00.000-07:00

I had set the bar too high.

I know that is the case, and yet, I don't know how to stop.

It's birthday season here, and ever since Punk's first real party, I have been cursing myself. That was the year of hand-drawn invitations; tea-stained, hand-burned, sent in real glass bottles, filled with real sugar-white sand.

Then there was the seven dwarfs party, where we actually mined for gems, had a planned food fight, made individual character t-shirts for each guest . . . you get the picture . . . cowboy sleepover; real tea-party - with gram's 60-year old wedding china; spa-retreat . . .and on and on and on. These aren't expensive or extravagant parties - just exhausting. Not to mention the fact, that with two birthdays a week apart, each having a friend party and a small, family dinner celebration - it's like Mardi-Gras around here for the whole first half of June.

This year Kooka wanted a Survivor theme. Easy enough right? Throw in a few challenges, some teamwork, a couple of blindfolds, some diving, hand-sculpted fondant shaped to look like tiki-gods, four dozen water balloons, six bicycle locks, two yards of hemp, individually burned name tags on each straw, hand-made immunity idols . . . it's a memory she'll treasure forever, right?

RIGHT???!!!!

Actually, we all had a great time putting it together, but since Punk's birthday is only a week afterward, I was almost relieved when he asked to have his party at the local Brunswick Zone. Two rounds of lazer tag, a few pizzas, a fistful of arcade tokens, peanut butter brownies, and somebody else to pick up the mess. Of course we did stop home for a quick swim first - so there are is at least one swimsuit, three socks and a questionable pair of undies that still need to be picked up.

Only 5 more weeks until the little Hirschling turns one - and a week after that Gram will be 95. One week later it is Rico's turn. Hopefully, his friends will keep their underwear to themselves.

Part of Punk's posse.

Getting ready for laser tag.

The Survivor Tribe working on their shelter.

my two weddings

2011-06-09T15:06:00.000-07:00

I would love to post about our wedding day.

I would love to tell you that we were married in a secluded Japanese Garden, on a gorgeous summer day, surrounded by friends and family. I'd tell you all about how Kooka, dressed in a long white gown serenaded us with an accapella version of "Wherever the Trail May Lead." I'd probably mention how Punk pronounced us man and wife, and Kooka said, "You may now kiss the bride - but not for too long." I'd reminisce about how Uncle Ken delivered a beautiful service; how we both shared vows with 4 of our kids; the kids spoke vows they wrote themselves; how Punk promised to love and respect Rico just as he would his own dad; and how Kooka said, "I hope you like being in this family as much as we like having you here.

Then I'd go into all of the details about the afterparty. . . . how Kooka and Leah made us 2 cakes (coconut/ lemon and peach); how so many of our friends and neighbors showed up to help us celebrate; how all of the kids splashed in the pool - nevermind the hypothermia; how I finally got to kiss my husband goodnight - and how amazing it felt to say that word to him.

I would tell you this - but it would only be partly true - halfway true. Because while all of those things really did happen, they didn't happen on our wedding day. Due to circumstances beyond our control, our real wedding day was 7 days earlier . . . and that day went something like this:

In the ICU at United Hospital.

Gram - almost 95 years old and living on her own, has taken a tumble. She has a small brain bleed and is in need of a pacemaker - immediately. This woman, who has raised me since I was 6 years old, is telling the doctors that she can't stay here long. There's a wedding this this week she says, "and I am the matron of honor."

She is. But as we sit through two blood draws, three exams, and two very long heart stoppages, it becomes clear that Gram - the toughest woman I know, may not have a week - and if she does, she certainly won't be spending it at my wedding.

The nurses pull in a recliner chair for me, as I prepare to camp out for the night. Gram looks at me and says "What are we going to do? I have to get you through this wedding. Then everything will be ok - then I can die in peace."

"Well, I guess I'll have to put it off, so you won't die at all."

She leans back on her pillow, closes her eyes and says, "I'll die anyway, and then I'll haunt you."

She's not kidding, so I know I have to come up with a better plan.

Thankfully Rico and I had applied for our marriage license 6 days ago. It will be ready to pick up in the morning. Thankfully, my childhood friend Michelle is an ordained minister and has offered her services. Thankfully, we can make this happen - even if it isn't exactly how we planned.

I let the nurses know that the minister will be here at 10:30 in the morning, giving us enough time to legally get hitched before Gram goes into her surgery. But the night is long. The alarms go off constantly, the pacer pads restart her heart more than once. Still, she is lucid, and funny, even though the fact that she her heart is stopping about once every four hours is taking it's toll. I pray for her to get some sleep.

At 9:30 am Gram is on the phone with Rico - reminding him to bring a dress for me, and making sure he wears a nice shirt. She has barely hung up the phone, when she looks at me and says, "Now . . . .It's going to happen right now."

It takes a minute to register what she is saying. And then I get it.
She is dying.
Right this second.
Right in front of me.
Her heart stops beating.

I shout for the nurses - and by the time they get into the room, her heart has paused for 14 seconds. But the pacer pads have done their job, and no sooner have the nurses held her hands and said her name, then she is, totally, completely, fully awake asking when the minister will get here.

Not that it matters. The doctor has decided that the surgery cannot wait. Within 10 minutes they have prepped her and we are wheeling her down to surgery. I am right next to her bed, and the last thing she says to me is "I love you. Don't start without me."

Of course we won't.

Michelle arrives. Rico arrives. Uncle Ken and Loretta are there. My brother shows up. And we wait.

We wait for two hours, and finally breathe when the surgeon comes out to tell us, "She's doing great. She's amazing!"

There are happy tears in all of our eyes. But then he says:

"It was a bit more difficult - a bit more painful than most surgeries."

"Why?!" - this is both me and little brother. She asked us both if it would hurt and we both promised her that it would not.

"Well, she refused any form of medication."

"WHAT?!!"

"Her exact words were, 'I don't want any medicine, because I have a wedding after this and I want to have my wits about me.'"

"WHAT?! Wait - NONE? Like NO medication?"

"No. I finally convinced her to take a little shot of novicaine to at least dull the initial cut - but she refused anything else."

"Oh my GOD. Where is she now?"

"Well, she didn't have to come out of a fog, so we just wheeled her back to her room. She's probably waiting for you there."

So we bolt back to the 3rd floor, and there she is, sitting up in bed. Her first words are, "Wow, except for being sore - I feel great!" Then she looks at Rico in his clean white polo, and black pants and says "You look great." Giving me the once-over, she decides that my jeans and filthy, slept-in hoodie are less acceptable. "You don't," she says. "Go put on some wedding clothes."

So I do. And we get married right there in the cardio unit of United Hospital. It actually says that on our marriage certificate - United Hospital, St. Paul. The nurses have asked the hospital chef to bring a us a wedding cake and a carafe of coffee. There are champagne glasses filled with ice water, the hospital photographer shows up to capture the event, Yoda is exceptionally good, and once she's signed the papers, Gramma finally consents to taking a vicodin.

We kiss her goodbye, and I go home with my new husband.

So there you have it - our two weddings. And though she's recovering nicely at home, Gram couldn't quite make it to the second one. She did send her love, and a card that said, "Have a beautiful life together - WOW - we really did it huh!"

Yep. We did.

thank-you

2011-06-08T20:53:00.000-07:00

Punk wrote this thank-you to his homeroom teacher. I loved it. Thought you might too:

whew

2011-06-07T07:36:00.000-07:00

Two birthday parties down. One (or two depending on how you look at it) weddings finished. Just 5 more b-days to plan and 2 more musicals to choreograph, then we'll be able to rest - right?

We'll be back soon - with some good stories - but for now, we are up to our elbows in birthday cake batter.

may 30th

2011-05-30T19:06:00.000-07:00

It was a perfect day.

Although we legally did this a while ago, our wedding celebration was about as perfect as we could hope for - a small, intimate ceremony in the Japanese garden, followed by a pool party and barbecue at home.

It was humid and a little bit buggy, but Devin was there to give me away (probably would have booted me down the aisle if I'd given him the chance), Uncle Ken was there to perform the service, Kooka graced us with and acapella version of "Wherever The Trail May Lead", she and Leah baked two amazing wedding cakes, Punk put the finishing touches on the pool, Bob, Rachel and Alison took pictures (and Yoda)and so many of our friends and family showed up to help us celebrate.

We'll post more later, but for now - here are some of our favorite photos from the day . . . (thanks Bob)

Uncle Ken leading the service

Devin's crew, Aunt Loretta, and Us . . .I don't even know what to say about this one.

Leah, Punk, Kooka and Yoda

Kooka reciting her vows.

Littlest flower girl

lego expo

2011-05-21T21:19:00.000-07:00

It's been a whirlwind week - but not so busy that Rico and Punk couldn't hit the LEGO expo in Minneapolis. Punk was in heaven!

smarty pants

2011-05-17T11:20:00.000-07:00

This is Yoda's new favorite toy. I'm not positive, but I'm pretty sure she's looking for the word "prodigious." Since I interrupted, the world may never know.

Then again, she's also the only one in the family who eats both Cheetos found under the couch, and her own bath soap, so maybe she's just looking up "pica".

the bucket list

2011-05-17T11:10:00.000-07:00

Have you seen it? It's the one where Jack Nicholson and Morgan Freeman take off on an extended adventure to cross off everything on life's "to-do" list.

Against my better sensibilities, Rico and I watched it last week. Within two hours I was reduced to a puddle of emotional wreckage.

Most likely, it has something to do with my upbringing - or maybe everything to do with my upbringing, but movies like that - Steel Magnolias, Terms of Endearment, My Life - they all leave me with an overwhelming burden of desperate, urgency that lingers for days - sometimes weeks. I start to wonder what was on my Mom's bucket list - she was only 28. What was on my grandma's - she was barely 60. And what was on my own.

We talked about it as a family the other night - what we would do - how we would spend our time if we knew it was severely limited.

Rico would fly an ultralight plane.

Kooka would star in a movie or have a song on the radio.

Punk would want to ride in an old, abandoned mine like Indiana Jones.

And me?

Well, I sort of surprised myself. Because, I only had two biggies - one already accomplished, and the other will be in a few weeks.

I've wanted to be a mom for as long as I can remember. Even when MY mom asked me what I wanted to be when I grew up, I would say to her - "Stop asking me that! I just want to be a mommy OK!" And here I am, 3 kids later with my only real wish already crossed off the list. But Rico pushed the issue, until I finally realized the answer.

I would want to spend my time helping the four of them fill their buckets. Nothing makes me happier. So for now - here is my list:

- Watch Rico fly (and land) and ultralight plane
- Watch Kooka perform a song she's written (she's got quite a few)
- Hear Yoda say "mama" with some conviction
- Hold the Sunday paper with Punk's first comic published inside (as we plunged through an abandoned mine shaft)

I'm sure there will be more dreams, more wishes - but for now, my bucket's already pretty full.

first words

2011-05-10T18:55:00.001-07:00

I sort of hate to give him this one . . . especially since even he will admit that this child has been calling for me for a week (not by the right name - but by God, it's me she wants).

Still, I concede defeat - here's his proof:

game on

2011-05-08T20:14:00.000-07:00

Somebody has a new pink tennis racket, and freshly opened can of pink tennis balls, which goes quite nicely with her freshly opened can of whoop-ass.

Kooka has a pretty killer swing for a little kid.

Looks like she takes after Grandma Terry in that department.

She's signed up for tennis camp this spring, and will no doubt improve. Since Rico is a wonderful player, and my game hasn't changed much since 9th grade, it looks like I will be the first to get my butt handed to me. I'm sure she can't wait.

best thing

2011-05-06T20:44:00.000-07:00

Best thing this week:

Me - volunteering at Punk's school.

Other parent also volunteering.

She says, "Are you here to volunteer too?"

"Yes I am."

"Oh good. I wasn't sure if you were a student or parent. I thought you might be a little old for junior high, but just wasn't sure."

good stuff

2011-05-01T08:26:00.000-07:00

Since I was all too eager to share the mazzo pancake story, it is probably only fair that I give the guy his props as well.

Rico is a wonderful cook. There. I said it.
Much better than me. There. I said that too.

It's not that I am incapable of cooking. I have a few great dishes up my sleeve, and am perfectly capable of following a recipe. I make the best popcorn, and am the only family member who doesn't burn the chocolate chip cookies. But I have nothing on Rico.

He is making omlettes right now. I don't know what's in them, and don't particularly care. I am pretty picky about breakfast food, but he's just that good. He can make something out of anything - like those bums in Stone Soup - which is quite possibly what we are eating.

Last week, when our cupboards could rival Old Mother Hubbard's he made some sort of breakfast quesadilla that Yoda and I both scarfed down in short order. I have no idea what was in that either. In hindsight, I realize that there was nothing to make them with except a potato, a bag of pixie sticks and a few fabric softener sheets.

Like I said - he's that good.

prayers

2011-04-26T19:41:00.000-07:00

I stole this from Melanie, who in turn stole it from Tina Fey - so I guess it's all good.

TINA FEY - A PRAYER FOR MY DAUGHTER

"First, Lord: No tattoos. May neither Chinese symbol for truth nor Winnie-the-Pooh holding the FSU logo stain her tender haunches.

May she be Beautiful but not Damaged, for it’s the damage that draws the creepy soccer coach’s eye, not the beauty.

When the Crystal Meth is offered, may she remember the parents who cut her grapes in half and stick with beer.

Guide her, protect her when crossing the street, stepping onto boats, swimming in the ocean, swimming in pools, walking near pools, standing on the subway platform, crossing 86th Street, stepping off of boats, using mall restrooms, getting on and off escalators, driving on country roads while arguing, leaning on large windows, walking in parking lots, riding Ferris wheels, roller-coasters, log flumes, or anything called “Hell Drop,” “Tower of Torture,” or “The Death Spiral Rock ‘N Zero G Roll featuring Aerosmith,” and standing on any kind of balcony ever, anywhere, at any age.

Lead her away from Acting but not all the way to Finance. Something where she can make her own hours but still feel intellectually fulfilled and get outside sometimes, and not have to wear high heels. What would that be, Lord? Architecture? Midwifery? Golf course design? I’m asking You, because if I knew, I’d be doing it, damn it.

May she play the drums to the fiery rhythm of her own heart with the sinewy strength of her own arms, so she need not lie with drummers.

Grant her a rough patch from twelve to seventeen. Let her draw horses and be interested in Barbies for much too long, For childhood is short – a Tiger Flower blooming Magenta for one day – And adulthood is long and dry-humping in cars will wait.

O Lord, break the Internet forever, that she may be spared the misspelled invective of her peers And the online marketing campaign for Rape Hostel V: Girls Just Wanna Get Stabbed.

And when she one day turns on me and calls me a Bitch in front of Hollister, give me the strength, Lord, to yank her directly into a cab in front of her friends, for I will not have that shit. I will not have it.

And should she choose to be a Mother one day, be my eyes, Lord, that I may see her, lying on a blanket on the floor at 4:50 A.M., all-at-once exhausted, bored, and in love with the little creature whose poop is leaking up its back. “My mother did this for me once,” she will realize as she cleans feces off her baby’s neck. “My mother did this for me.” And the delayed gratitude will wash over her as it does each generation and she will make a mental note to call me. And she will forget. But I’ll know, because I peeped it with Your God eyes.

Amen."

brothers

2011-04-26T09:54:00.000-07:00

Yoda got to meet her biggest brother last week. It looked a little something like this. The picture where she is lying prone on a scooter being shot like a hockey puck across the basement floor by both of her brothers has been omitted - even though I suspect that's the one that you really want to see.

easter

2011-04-25T20:13:00.000-07:00

We were so busy sprinting to church and eating candy and making deviled eggs and visiting relatives that I sort of forgot to take pictures . . . but here's a glimpse:

not to brag but . . .

2011-04-22T18:51:00.000-07:00

. . . .well, actually, it's totally just to brag.

Guess who won "Best of Show" in the newspaper's "design an ad" contest. Not sure how many entries there were - but I know it was more than 300, because Punk's entry was part of a writing assignment. He walked out of school carrying this bad boy:

His ad will be featured in the newspaper (it's for a grocery store - you'll recognize his style, keen sense of detail and of course, signature sarcasm).

no accounting for taste

2011-04-17T09:27:00.000-07:00

No sooner did I post that little tidbit, then we decided to take Yoda out for Chinese food.

At 8 months old she is already completely refusing baby food, but had no problem holding her own at the Chinese buffet. Normally, they don't charge for anyone under the age of two, but the hostess kept coming over to "check" on us, as she watched our infant pack away 3 pot stickers, half a cup of lo-mein noodles, a cream cheese puff, broccoli chicken and 6 spoonfuls of tapioca pudding - whereupon she proceeded to lick the melamine plate clean and then try to devour it as well.

Not sure which portion of her ancestry is going to get credit for her attempting to clean the plate with her face - but my money's on one of her grandfathers.

traditions

2011-04-15T12:34:00.000-07:00

To commemorate passover, Rico decided to make matzo meal pancakes for breakfast this morning. Kooka managed to eat a couple. Punk (after declaring them to taste like oversalted eggs), poured half a cup of powdered sugar on on his plate and proceeded to eat all 5. I couldn't manage to swallow the one bite I took - even after Rico said, "they are supposed to remind you of suffering." (They did)

He was thrilled however that Yoda ate all three of hers without comment or complaint. He declared it a testament to her 32.4% Hebrew DNA that she was able to choke them down. I however, have a hard time crediting her gastronomical choices to her jewish ancestry. There was certainly no hispanic geneology helping her put away that whole burrito she ate last week - and I'm pretty sure it wouldn't explain the half carton of lo-mein she scarfed in one sitting either.

But I digress.

When Rico and I first decided to take the plunge and become a family, there was much talk about child-rearing, and traditions, and religion, and how those would play a part in all of our lives. And next week, for the first time ever, Rico will have all of his kids here - celebrating Easter together - building new memories and maybe even new traditions.

Let's hope those pancakes aren't one of them.

kooka's new thang

2011-04-13T21:03:00.000-07:00

When she was little, Dr. Becky would always comment on Kooka's perfect, china doll teeth. "They are flawless," she would tell us, "but what it means, is that when she's about 9 - there won't be room for the big ones."

She was right. After two consultations and some serious x-rays, there was no doubt that the child was in serious need of braces.

Thankfully Kooka was all for it. Apparently braces are a hipper fashion accessory for third graders than they are for sophomores. We were doubly thankful that Shelley is the one that has been working with Kooka. She was one of my very favorite dance moms, and Kooka says that she can see why.

Here's Kooka's new look. (And no, they did not have to remove her arms to take care of her teeth. Not sure why she chose to stand that way.)

BEFORE

AFTER

hollywood

2011-04-13T20:55:00.001-07:00

I've always liked the song - but the video is even better.

Just one of the many reasons Michael Buble is always on my list of favorite things.

HOLLYWOOD

day 8 (pass the xanax)

2011-04-10T14:12:00.000-07:00

We left early on Monday morning.

We neglected to tell the kids that the plane we had ridden to Florida was grounded. But we figured that 2 extra layovers in Providence, Rhode Island and Chicago were better than a giant hole ripping through our Southwest fuselage. Needless to say, I spent the better part of all three takeoffs trying to hide my absolute panic from Punk - who is also a nervous flyer.

Rico, who is not a nursing mother - took both a xanax and dramamine. He has absolutely no recollection of the fact that we even boarded a plane, let alone three. We landed at 4 - were home by 5, and were homesick for our condo by 7.

day 7 (perfect)

2011-04-10T14:03:00.000-07:00

There have been a handful of perfect days in my life and two of them have been spent on this beach.

Although the big kids were initially reluctant to take the extra drive to Fort DeSoto - begging to head straight to the Tampa hotel, so they could dive into the pool, afterward, we all agreed that it was one of the best days of our vacation.

We were met by friends of Rico's who had blankets, umbrellas, cold drinks and snacks. The sand was sugar-soft, and yes - the water really was that blue. The kids could wander out 50 yards and still only be waist-deep. The water was clear, the waves were soft, and there were plenty of shells to be found.

Within minutes the kids had christened the place "God's Swimmig Pool." And were literally praying as they swam - thankful for such a beautiful place. Eight hours later, I had to drag them from the surf - and even then, we didn't get to Tampa until 8:30 pm. Rico picked up vittles from his favorite chicken place Pollo Tropical, and we all sat poolside until 10:30 snacking on Jamaican chicken, corn pastries, Dr. Pepper, and potatoes. Rico and I let the kids swim and rocked a sleepy Yoda under the warm, starry sky.

It was as perfect as life can be.

Punk searching for crabs and conch shells


seconds before she fell backward into the surf

Kooka gets burried

day 6 (yoda meets the mouse, kooka meets a t-rex -mama meets a snake)

2011-04-08T10:00:00.000-07:00

There are half-a-dozen things that Punk loves more than breathing - and all of them are in Orlando: legos, rootbeer, cartoons, the Yeti Ride, the Dinosaur Ride, and Haunted Mansion. Since we'd already knocked the beverage and the spooks off of the list, we figured we'd hit the rest today.

We started out at Animal Kingdom, where Punk couldn't wait to take Rico and I on Expedition Everest (which we all agree is the most intense Disney ride there is). After that it was off to the Nemo show - a broadway-style extravaganza music and dancing and puppetry and bubbles (oh how Yoda loved the bubbles).

We couldn't leave the park without heading to Dinoland USA. It was here that Punk and Rico and I cruised back in time on the dinosaur ride, Yoda and Kooka and I took a few twirls on Triceratops spin, and everybody played in the Boneyard. Rico had (and I quote) "the best burger of his entire life" at Restaurantosaurus, and I completed my fear factor list for the week.

It's not enough that I'd already been mugged by a bush, and that Southwest airlines had blown a hole in one of the planes we were intending to ride home. There also had to be snakes.

Why does it always have to be snakes?

Kooka and I were checking out one of the gift shops, when not ten feet from us, there is a huge (almost three feet long), HUGE black snake slithering from the shelf to the floor. At first glance - it could have been a dropped toy, or some uber-realistic Disney prop. But no - it was real - and it had no fear.

Kooka, Yoda and I backed away slowly, but the stroller-pushing woman next to us screamed and bolted through the door, which only served to piss off snake. He raised his head like that cobra in Riki-Tiki-Tavi and licked his little snake lips before lunging on.

A salesman stepped forward to put some distance between the customers and the snake, while he shouted for somebody to call security. The saleswoman did pick up the phone, but not before shrugging and and commenting "Well, it's animal kingdom - what do they expect?"

What do I EXPECT?

I expect that when I am reaching for one of your $28 dollar t-shirts, that you will do everything in your power to make sure that I and my 8-month old baby (but especially I) am not ambushed by a slithering, venomous reptile. I expect, that a corporation who won't even let us see the trash being emptied, could at least sprinkle some sort of snake-b-gone around the perimeter. I expect - that somehow, via the magic of Disney, we could be spared this psychological trauma.

I couldn't wait to leave.

Hollywood studios is more my kind of place anyway. Not that the natural wonders in Animal Kingdom are lost on me - but I'll take a 10 story-free-fall over a stray possum any day.

Punk loves the animation station. Kooka loves the movie ride. The line at Rock-n-Rollercoaster is too long for Rico and I, so we all head to the Indiana Jones stunt show. We spend lots of time taking goofy pictures and Yoda finally gets to meet Mickey Mouse.

We stop at CiCi's for a pizza buffet (mac and cheese pizza and buffalo chicken are the hands-down faves), take a swim in the pool, and head to downtown Disney where Kooka tours the world's largest Disney Store, and Punk comes face to face with a lego sea-serpent (but decides that the hour long line at the lego store - just isn't worth it).

We take a boat back to the parking lot, make a stop for fresh Krispy Kremes and head for home. Tomorrow is a beach day - and I can't wait.

Kooka's ears/snake nest - same diff

Best burger he ever had - direct quote.

Punk's favorite dino - a pachycepholasaurus

singin' in the rain

lego nessie meets lego maniac

yoda meets the mouse

day 5 (patience, patience, patience)

2011-04-08T08:45:00.000-07:00

Since most of the state was under weather advisories the day before, we were not the only family who absolutely HAD to get to the Magic Kingdom today.

Thankfully, Frank and Sharon agreed to come with us - which was wonderful for many many reasons. a) four grownups to three kids is an excellent ratio; b) Sharon knows all of the short cuts and came equipped with an internal Disney GPS, so we were never wandering aimlessly; c) Yoda got to spend the day with one of her godfathers; d) we all love these two - they are incredibly sweet, and there was nobody we'd rather spend the day with.

We started out with a 10 minute wait for haunted mansion (the new walk-thru part is super cool - but the change in the hitchhiking ghosts part made us all slightly furious). By the time we left the mansion, the wait lines for everything - including Small World were 60-90 minutes. We did get to check out the Hall of Presidents and Thunder Mountain before our 1:30 lunch date at Liberty Tree Tavern - but our day was off to a rather slow start.

Even though this is their absolute favorite place in the world, the kids got cranky quickly. They both wanted to ride - but neither wanted to wait - which put us in a bit of a quandry, as there really was no choice. Rico and I are not big line waiters either. So after a spin on Buzz Lightyear, the People Mover, and Stitch's great escape, we snagged some fast passes and headed back to the condo for a swim. By this point, one of the children was furious that we had to leave, one was hot and cranky and one just wanted a nap. And it wasn't just us. By the time we rode the tram to the parking lot, it was 5:00, and when the super-perky Disney driver asked if everyone had a great time it was silent except for the sound of Yoda dumping cheerios onto the tram floor. Today it was sort of "The Stressiest Place on Earth."

However - after an hour in the pool, and a quick Burger King stop - everybody felt much better, and because we're us - and we just have to squeeze it all in, we headed back to the park.

With fast passes for Space Mountain and Peter Pan, the kids got to ride immediately. The weather was cooler, there were no lines for Haunted Mansion, Tomorrowland Speedway, Snow White or Small World (which Yoda LOVED). And of course, there were fireworks. Kooka, Yoda and I stood under the shadow of the castle while the boys rode Space Mountain (again). She sang me a song she wrote, we nibbled Swedish Fish, and watched Yoda sleeping in her stroller. We listened to the music and both of us commented out loud how very lucky we felt to be together right then, right there.

And there were still 2 and a half days to go . . .


Yoda getting (and eating) her "first visit"button

Punk's favorite view

It sort of felt like this after a while

Kooka shares small world with her sister

day 4 (a good day for nothing)

2011-04-06T19:24:00.000-07:00

I woke up on day 4 to find the kids room looking like this:

It is a complete testament to their personalities - you don't even have to guess which kid belongs to which bed.

We had nothing planned for day 4 - which was a good thing since there was incessant rain and three tornado warnings.

It was too bad for Kooka who had her heart set on lounging poolside all day. She did settle for a soak in the giant jacuzzi tub in the bathroom, and a game of bingo in the activities hall.

She somehow managed to win the blackout round, but not before the rabid bingo players next to her threatened to call management because the caller was not performing up to their standards (no joke). They were furious that she had not properly mixed the Ns, and started a ruckus. For the record - Kooka's grand prize was a keychain advertising the condos - hardly worth getting the poor bingo caller fired over.

Thankfully, Uncle Frank and Aunt Sharon showed up in the nick of time and we all took off to dinner at Bahama Breeze.

Kooka kicking some bingo booty.

day 3 (because spring break in orlando isn't humiliating enough)

2011-04-06T09:12:00.000-07:00

It's true.
There are few things more embarrassing than being in Orlando over spring break.

Day three found us at Universal Studios Islands of Adventure - the only place in the world that is actually designed to force you into confronting your own geekiness.

Apparently everyone under the age of 28 received some sort of exclusive manual on how not to look like an absolute fool at this place.

They are all dressed in tube tops and hot pants (not that they all should be if you know what I'm saying - but still, my quick-dry T-shirt and hiking sandals, practically scream Saturday Night Live skit).

And they all know exactly when to smile, or flash the peace sign, or moon the world or whatever when the camera goes off on those ride photos. I always look like a terrified Joan Rivers caught in a wind shear. I didn't pay $15 for those when I looked good in them - not gonna start now - no matter how much Punk begs.

Then there's the fact that I am a full-grown-adult headed to Harry Potter's Hogsmeade Village. If that don't make you shout "dork", then the fact that I'm wearing a green plastic poncho will. We were caught in a gale force storm, and had to huddle in the "owlry" with 200 other muggles until it blew over. Kooka was still young enough (and smart enough) to not care how she looked. Punk, on the other hand, immediately discarded his upon learning the threat of imminent hypothermia had passed.

And to add insult to injury - I got jumped by a dancing bush. But this time it wasn't just the park cameras that caught me in all of my glory - it was the video crew from the Ellen show. If you haven't seen it by now, I'll repost the link here. But suffice it to say - it was most hideous. This is how it went down: Rico had been talking up the Jurassic Park ride, and nobody but he and I wanted to go - everyone else was scared (smart kids). One of us had to stay with the kids, so he asks the attendant if there is a single rider line, so I won't have to wait for 80 minutes. The attendant directs me to his left, where I begin walking down a jungley path.

If you see the video, you'll notice that I am looking down. The reason for this, is because the last ride we went on had 5 lizards and one long-ass snake slithering across the path. So the whole time, all am thinking is that this walk is a thousand times scarier than anything that could possibly be on the ride.

I was right.

So I am minding my own, snake-searching business, when all of the sudden my worst nightmare becomes reality. There is a loud hiss from my right and the lower part of the hedge starts moving. My brain just keeps telling me "if that things on the ground, then you don't want to be" (hence the hysterical jumping). After about 4 jumps I realize it's a dude, and simultaneously realize how ridiculous I must have looked. Then I start thinking about what a cool gig that guy has - that somebody actually paid him to scare the crap out me - I want a job like that. So by this point I am equal parts terrified, laughing and jealous.

I am met at the end of the line by the film crew who asks me to sign a waiver (which I did - you're welcome). They said they had been filming all day and hadn't seen a reaction quite like mine - that mine was the most athletic. They asked if I could come to the show taping - but they couldn't let the kids on the set, so we didn't. Regardless - apparently 12 seconds of my 15 minutes of fame have been spent.

The rest of the day was wet - but wonderful. We spent time in Hogsmeade Village where we tasted pumpkin juice (much better than we imagined), treacle fudge, caldron cakes, shepherd's pie, roast turkey, and of course butterbeer (which was initially amazing, and soon turned into a tasteless version of overcarbonated cream soda - even Punk didn't finish his - which is saying something).

Yoda rode the Dr. Suess Carousel. We visited the Street of the Lifted Lorax (from one of Punk and Kooka's very favorite stories); rode the journey through Hogwarts (the lady escorted us right past the 90 minute wait line to the front thanks to Yoda); Punk and Rico rode Spiderman; Kooka choose a magic wand from Olivander's; we strolled through cartoon alley; ate dinner at The Three Broomsticks; went for a spin on Storm Force Acceleration - and finally headed home.

Day 4 was our day "off" and we were all looking forward to it.

Even Yoda had a butterbeer moustache.

cartoon alley

I've seen him walk a dog - it looks pretty much the same.

my killer green poncho

Kooka picks a wand, (She chose Neville's)

Punk at a Harry Potter shop

Moving walkway to the park was one of their favorite rides.

Kooka at the Lorax house.

Punk at the Street of the Lifted Lorax

days 1 and 2 (the adventures begin)

2011-04-05T19:24:00.000-07:00

I'm not sure what made us decide to head to Florida in the first place.
I think it was Rico - but it's not like he got any complaints from the rest of us.

The itinerary was carefully laid out . . . one day to fly, two days at Universal Studios, a day off, two days at Disney World, a day at the beach, and about 6 hours to fly home. And for the most part, things went just the way we planned - mostly. Unless you count that gale force storm that nearly blew us out of Hogsmeade, or the snakes, or the fact that Yoda decided to stay up until midnight, or the fact that Southwest blew a hole in one of the exact same planes that we were using to transport ourselves, or the fact that I got jumped by a dancing bush, or nearly getting run out of the game room by two rabid bingo players . . . if you don't count any of that, things went exactly as we planned.

After a rocky ride to St. Louis, and a two hour layover, we made a very turbulent descent into the Tampa airport, we picked up our rental car and we (along with the rest of the free world) headed to Orlando for spring break.

It was almost 11:30pm when we pulled into our condo, so after a bit of Cartoon Network, we all fell asleep. It had been a long day - and tomorrow would be even longer.

On Tuesday we headed to Universal Studios. The day went something like this:
Photos with Marilyn Monroe, and Lucy and Ricky
Men In Black ride (3 times for most of us - 8 times for Punk)
A few spins on the Simpsons
Jaws for Kooka and I
Three of us braved the Twister ride
The Beetlejuice show
The ball factory
Shrek 4D
A few more spins on Men In Black (just for good measure)
Back to the condo - then bed.

I know this is short . . . but for now, I'll let the pictures do the talking. I have plenty of days left.

Yoda meets Luuuuuuucy and Rick Ricardo

Punk's favorite ride

Yeah - we left our baby unattended in a clown's mouth.

So happy together.

The start of our adventures.

Dance Attack Hits Orlando! - The Ellen DeGeneres Show

2011-04-05T13:11:00.000-07:00

Dance Attack Hits Orlando! - The Ellen DeGeneres Show

getting it over with

2011-04-05T13:10:00.000-07:00

I was just going to wait until I got to blogging about it - but so many people have been asking to see it - I figured I should just post a link now and get it over with.

I was ambushed by a "dance attack" on the Ellen show. I am the very last person shown. I was walking onto the Jurrassic Park ride. What you don't see on this cut is Ellen mocking me and saying I was her "favorite."

They actually wanted me to come to the show. Probably so that guy could pretend to be my chair and pop out again.

Anyway - here it is. (and don't ask why I'm walking like George Jefferson - I have no idea).

Check it out: Me on Ellen.

juicy life

2011-04-04T18:45:00.000-07:00

The trouble with having Rico and I in the same family, is that we both always try to get the most out of life. We want to see more, do more, taste more, feel more. We stay out late, try some of everything, and will do almost anything once. We are always trying to live a juicier life.

So when our friends say that the thought of vacationing with us is exhausting, they are absolutely, completely correct. Which is one of the reasons I did not have time to update about our grand adventures (well that, and we forgot the laptop charger). But have no fear, we'll be back soon with plenty of tales, including:
Butterbeer, broken knees, an escaped snake, a dance assassin, a baby who stays up all night, Mummy Rides, God's swimming pool, shooting aliens, how some things never get old, and how good it feels to be together.

But for now, it is 7:30 on a Monday night and everyone is in bed (except for me - and I should be).

poor parenting skills

2011-03-22T11:07:00.000-07:00

When I announced I was pregnant with Punk, one of my junior high dancers shouted for the whole class to hear "WHAT?! You can't have a baby! How are YOU gonna know how to raise a kid?"

I thought for a minute, before answering her. "It can't be that hard - it's just like raising the dog. You tell it where to eat, where to poop, what it can chew on and make sure it learns the word 'no'."

I sort of meant it.

Which I think she figured out, because the look on her face was one of utter horror when she replied, "You should not be allowed to take that baby home." She's probably the one who brought snausages to the baby shower.

Maybe she was right. But the breeder had let me take the german shepherd home, and anyone who ever met that dog can tell you - she was impeccably trained. I just want to make sure the kids turn out half as well . . . but today, I may have taken it a step too far.

I was shopping in Target with Yoda. She'll be taking her very first flight soon, and I wanted to find some things to keep her busy on the plane. Nothing we found in the baby aisle garnered more than a raspberry and an immediate toss to the floor, so I resigned myself to the fact that I would just have to buy earplugs and Nyquil for myself and the 15 passengers sitting in the immediate vicinity

But then I saw it.

The kong.

A red, rubber, bouncy toy that the dog used to love. Was it possible? Could I get that lucky twice?

I took Yoda into the pet food aisle and handed her a puppy sized kong. She immediately stuffed it into her mouth and began to gnaw. I was thrilled and mortified all at the same time. I threw it into the cart and then took it out again. What if our pediatrician came walking down the aisle, or a PETA representative?

But Yoda didn't want to leave. She loved the meat-scented rubber chicken, and tug-of-war rope. She reached for the frisbees and the teething bone. I was almost disgusted with myself for even starting this - but then I looked at the prices. The fleecey-ropey-octopus toy she fell in love with was $2.99. They'd be selling this thing on Chinaberry for $24. She was also groovin' on the $2.50 wiggly fish. Pretty sure Babies-R-Us would charge me twelve bucks for it.

So I bought them both.

But if you see Yoda chomping on a milkbone, or Kooka pulling Beggin Strips out of her lunch box - stop me.

my ultimate demise

2011-03-17T01:58:00.000-07:00

I think the lack of sleep is going to kill me.
Seriously.
Not kidding.
Went to bed at 11.
Woke up at 1.
It's 4 am.

excuses

2011-03-09T19:26:00.000-08:00

I've been a bit behind on posting lately.

Here's why:

Sore throat for me.
Yoda does not sleep.
Kooka had the flu.
Lots of work coming up - which is good - but means even less sleep.
Date nights with Rico - which are more important than blogging.
Looking up art classes for Punk.
Planning a secret spring break trip - nobody knows where we're going except Rico and me. (Though I suspect Yoda may have overheard - let's hope she doesn't spill the beans.)

almost

2011-02-28T20:27:00.000-08:00

I almost cried today when she said this . . . almost.

I finished fixing Kooka's hair for dance class today and she gave me a big squeeze and this little speech:

"Mom, thanks for being such a good mom and doing all the mommy kinds of things like fixing my hair. And I know you never had anybody to do it for you when you were little, so thank you for taking time and learning how so you can do these things for me. It makes me really happy."

Which makes everything that happened to e since I was six years old, totally worth it.

punk's job

2011-02-24T18:55:00.000-08:00

Currently, he is the only one of my children bringing home a paycheck - but since he's double digits, I hold him to a higher standard anyway.

Today he recorded a national radio commercial for Target - he loves being in the sound booth. If we get a link - we'll post it here. If not - keep your ears open . . . it's the commercial about the mom buying movies, and Punk is the son.

dessert

2011-02-24T18:06:00.000-08:00

See . . . I wasn't kidding about the paper thing . . . .

trouble

2011-02-17T13:27:00.001-08:00

Half a dozen people have mentioned that at some point or another in the past month they have not been able to leave comments here. I think I fixed the problem - but am not sure, so if anybody would leave me a comment here, I would be so so grateful.

finding your bliss

2011-02-16T20:11:00.000-08:00

It's strange what these little people I call my children turn into.

It took over two years for Punk to even want to pick up a crayon - it's true. And though every milestone chart I was reading, claimed that by 18 months all toddlers love to scrawl on paper, doodle with chalk, or at least finger paint, child number one was having none of it. Despite my panicked attempts to force crayolas into his chubby little fists, he refused to draw . . . and instead spent his every free moment obsessing over trains - leading me to conclude that not only had he been switched at birth, but that I had inherited someone else's mentally (and artistically) deficient motorhead toddler.

But as anyone who knows him will tell you - it all worked out. Not only does he like to draw - but claims he needs it to live. It's his bliss.

Baby Yoda seems to have discovered a bliss of her own - paper. She loves it - the taste of it that is. Which I guess will work out well for Punk, since I am constantly on his case to recycle his leftover sketches. He'll probably just duct-tape Yoda to a wall, where she will live happily ever after in a continual state of paper-eating symbiosis. Bliss for both of them.

And then there is Kooka. For this kid, finding her bliss has been a difficult journey. She is hard on herself, and nothing less than perfection makes her happy. She's a gifted athlete but as she says, "doesn't see it in herself." She's a good dancer - but being the youngest in the class means her leaps are never the highest. She has a beautiful singing voice - but since Simon Cowell has not personally commented on her you tube clips, she's pretty sure that hobby is going nowhere fast.

Kooka is good at so many things - she's just that kind of kid. But there is one area where she stands out more than most, one place where she always excels, one subject where she trumps every other member of the family . . . cooking.

She's been baking on her own since she was 6. I have woken from a nap to find cherry cheesecake in the fridge and the entire kitchen clean. I have seen her unable to hide a cringe when she bakes brownies with a friend, because the pan was not properly greased, or the batter was too lumpy. I've watched her eyes glaze over as she watched 4 consecutive episodes of "Cake Boss," and explained, in great detail, how she was going to create her next confection. And she follows through - two weeks ago, she actually baked a double layer, vanilla/red-velvet swirl cake, with pink buttercream frosting, vanilla bean piping, and completely edible cell phone, lipstick and makeup case that she sculpted out of modeling chocolate (that she also made herself).

There is no denying that the girl is gifted in this area - and anyone who's ever watched me bring a 10-pack of White Castle sliders to a potluck, knows that my genes are not playing a part in her prodigious culinary skills.

But I do what I can.

Last week Rico and I took her to Kabuki Grill where she watched the master chef cook a meal right at our table. The food was decent, but the best part was watching her face as the chef created flaming onion volcanoes, dribbled unbroken eggs like ping pong balls, threw a splash of this, and a dash of that together, lit it on fire, and served it to Kooka - who proclaimed it all "amazing."

And sharing that experience with her, was my bliss. Because as long as those 3 find their meaning in life, I've found mine too.

live - one night only

2011-02-08T10:59:00.000-08:00

For those of you that missed it - here's Punk's first attempt at stand-up comedy.

He performed this humorous prose piece at his speech team banquet.

The camera work is a bit shaky (think one handed, with a baby on your lap), but other than the mild nausea this might create, we think you'll find it pretty amusing - especially for an 11 year-old.

busy

2011-02-02T08:39:00.000-08:00

I know it seems like we are on hiatus - but things rarely stop around here.

Big sister Leah just came for a visit. Punk and Kooka can't wait for her to come back - for many, many reasons . . . this is just one of them:

best sound ever

2011-01-23T17:03:00.001-08:00

expanding your horizons

2011-01-19T09:10:00.001-08:00

Punk, upon being served a hamburger with a side of cottage cheese: "What IS this? No seriously - what is this? It looks like a snowman just barfed on my plate."

Apparently I need to expand his culinary horizons.

maybe

2011-01-12T08:06:00.000-08:00

Allow me to channel my inner Rodney King for a moment.

Can't we all just get along?

We're all disgusted by the things that happened in Arizona this week. There is no excuse, no place to lay the blame except at the feet of the shooter. And the "mentally unstable" excuse really doesn't fly as far as I'm concerned, because "unstable" sort of goes without saying, and it doesn't pardon the actions.

What is really eating me up are the terrible things I've been reading on blogs, facebook posts, and editorials. Things like, "People are picketing that little girls funeral - we should gun them down. Sarah Palin made a map with crosshairs on it - wish she was in the crosshairs of my semi-automatic. This is Obama's fault and everyone knows it."

No - it's not his fault. It's not Sarah Palin's fault. And threatening to gun down more people isn't going to make things right.

I consider myself an independent - fiscally conservative, socially liberal - not that it matters, but I have a tendency to straddle both sides, and could fiercely debate my stance on any topic I am passionate about - but I can do it with respect for someone else's opinion. I don't need to call anyone else "uneducated" or "heartless" or "tree hugger" or "capitalist pig" to state my case.

Why does everyone feel the need to do that?

I know it is true, because back in the day I used to be a political consultant. I used to campaign for both sides - knock on doors, make phone calls, engage in informative discussions. And 15 years ago, I could hand someone a pamphlet on a democratic candidate, and people would ask what the guy stood for - they wouldn't slam the door in my face. I could make a phone call about a republican senator and have a democrat ask intelligent questions, and walk away from the conversation satisfied with the answers, instead of threatening to paintball my house.

It's out of hand.

Just last month I commented on a facebook post, something about how someone has misquoted a line from a political book. Having read a large portion of the book, I found the statement to be unfair, and my basic comment was "actually, you took that quote out of context, and maybe instead of of harping on each other, we should all just step up and try to do something positive to help the people we've elected to lead."

Holy hell fire and brimstone.

I got a facebook smackdown.

Truly.

The number of people who could not deal with that statement was sickening. And the one guy who agreed with me, had his butt handed to him as well. I guess everybody loves freedom of speech until it clashes with their own opinion.

And if everyone truly believes that this is Obama's fault, or Sarah Palin's or even Jerry Springer's, all I can ask, is that for the memory of that little girl - watch your OWN mouth. Be kinder on your OWN blogs. Wipe the smirk off of your OWN face - because maybe it's YOU that could make the world better. Maybe it's not always somebody else's fault.

woot woot

2011-01-10T14:15:00.000-08:00

Yeah - I know I said I would post that picture that Punk drew for the kids voting contest. And I would have - except I sort of forgot . . . until today, when Punk told us that he won second place in the whole state! Two hundred schools, and Punk still ranked in the 6-8th grade division! You can check it out here (punks poster) - we are pretty proud of him.

two songs

2011-01-06T20:57:00.000-08:00

I can't get either of them out of my head.
I have Yoda to thank for one of them, and Sarah Palin for the other. . .
Just listen - I promise you'll have one of them stuck in your head all day (and it won't be the good one):

valentines

2011-01-06T09:01:00.000-08:00

It's about that time again.

I've barely scraped the pine needles out of my socks, when it's time to start thinking about Valentine's day. It's always something around here, and for Valentines day, it's mailboxes and the wall of love.

The mailboxes started a few years ago, when it was just the three of us - Punk and Kooka and me. I bought three little tin mailboxes, and labeled one for each of us. It was always such a sweet surprise to see the little flag on my mailbox raised, and find a little note or drawing tucked inside.

Our second tradition began a few years prior - the wall of love. We plaster one whole wall with foamie hearts and write love notes to each other throughout the month of February. I save them every year. Some of y favorites are: I love kooka's inventions, I wish I could be with mom all of the time, I love how Punk treats animals like humans, I love momy's snuggels and kissis, I love how patient Punk and Kooka have been with me lately, I love Rico because he is tolerant. I love that we spend the whole month loving each other - I can't wait to get started.

train of thought

2011-01-04T18:57:00.000-08:00

Punk's train of thought: (while watching "Live To Dance") "Why don't they have a show called "So You Think You Can Draw? - 'No - wait Simon, don't look yet, I'm not finished . . . '

You know then again - all the really good artists are dead . . . except for me of course."

happy new year

2011-01-02T08:42:00.000-08:00

Happy New Year!

2011 is going to be our year. It has to be. It must be.
Because that's what we said LAST year, and aside from Yoda gracing us with her presence, absolutely nothing went the way we planned in 2010.

So this year, we've made a plan. Several plans actually.

Punk: to knock a few more states off the visited states list, visit Disney World, stay on the A-honor roll, and never have to go to school again (not sure how he'll accomplish the last two simultaneously.

Kooka: knock some more states off the list and earn $100. The latter of which she began promptly at 10 am New Year's Day, and has already begun filling in her flow chart.

Yoda: begin crawling, sleeping through the night, and finishing reading War and Peace.

Rico and I have several resolutions too - among the list are: finish the basement, make more date nights and also sleeping through the night.

Happy New Year everyone!

awkward christmas conversations

2010-12-29T21:34:00.000-08:00

Awkward conversation #1:

It's candlelight service on Christmas eve. Right behind us is a family with a baby girl just one month solder than Yoda. The conversation goes like this:
Dad: Wow. That is a really cute baby. How old is she?
Rico: 5 months. Yours is adorable too. How old is she?
Dad: 6 months. But, I mean yours is really cute.
Rico: Thanks.
Dad: No, I mean - she is just beautiful. Really - gorgeous. (turning to his own baby, perched in her mother's lap). Seriously - she's much cuter than you.
ummmmmmmmm

Awkward conversation #2:
Rico: I can't believe I ended up with somebody who was a bible camp counselor, when practically everyone I know went to jew camp.

christmas morning

2010-12-26T19:32:00.000-08:00

We had a most wonderful Christmas. It was filled with family and friends, and a candlelight service on Christmas Eve. I promise to post more pictures later, but for now - here is a little taste of Christmas morning. Kooka had picked out a very special present for Yoda's first Christmas - and it didn't get quite the reaction she hoped - but if nothing else, Kooka is an incredibly understanding big sister . . .

Merry Christmas

2010-12-22T20:48:00.000-08:00

It's not that we're lazy - just busy - hence the lack of posts.

Christmas is our favorite time of year, and there is so much to do, and so many little moments we want to savor. Moments like:

•Christmas book - our version of the advent calendar. Each day we unwrap one of 24 Christmas books and read them aloud. Even though some of them are getting a little juvenile for Punk (Winnie the Pooh's Christmas, a board book called Santa's Workshop), the kids insist on keeping and re-reading all of the originals.

•Cheeseballs!!! It's an annual tradition - the kids do all of the grating and mixing - which leaves me with the wrapping and clean up. This year, instead of Christmas carols we listened to the clean version of Cee-Lo's tune about 47 times (per Punk's request and Rico's absolute dismay). (Put on a Santa hat, turn your speakers up full blast and click here while licking a brick of cheddar, to get the full experience)

• Christmas shopping. We love it. Kooka and I love picking the perfect gifts. Punk loves the atmosphere of the mall. Yoda loves grabbing things. And Rico - loves humoring us all, and mostly tags along for the camaraderie and the promise of caramel corn.

• The fireplace. Our favorite place to hang out and watch the lights on the tree. Nevermind that Kooka has a mid-winter sunburn from tanning her little hide on the hearth one too many times.

• Sledding. We've only been once so far, but I'm sure we'll be back soon.

•Wrapping presents. Of course Yoda has developed a love for unwrapping presents, which makes things tricky. She can immediately recognize a wrapped gift. Her little face lights up and she reaches out for it. But try to pry that curly ribbon out of her tiny grasp or curious mouth, and you will hear about it - for hours.

• Visiting Santa. Punk is wishing for legos. Kooka really hopes she gets an Ipod. And Yoda would really like some more curly ribbon, a roll of nontoxic wrapping paper and world peace (in that order).

Merry Christmas!

birthdays

2010-12-11T09:12:00.000-08:00

It's my birthday today. A big one. A huge one. One so big that Punk threatened to decorate my cake with miniature grim reapers. And for somebody like me, this is a big deal.

As long as I can remember, I have hated getting older. I especially despised birthdays. After the age of six, birthdays became just a milestone - a passage of time. I was one year farther away from remembering my mom, and one year close to my own demise - which I was positive would happen in less than 30 years. (When paramedics came running into the house on the morning of my eighth birthday and declared my grandpa dead, it didn't exactly help the cause celebre' of birthdays. Neither did attempting to run away from home on my tenth. I don't have a great track record here.) I have cried on every birthday since age 16. It's been like watching the sand pour through a giant hourglass at an all too alarming rate.

So I'm pretty surprised to find, that although I've arrived at a significant milestone in my birthday career, I'm not the least bit upset. In fact, I'm feeling pretty groovy about it. It's not just the fact that I've kept a good ten years ahead of the grim reaper (though I must admit it's a bonus), it's not that I've accomplished several things I've always hoped I would, or that I know I'm having cake tonight. It's more that I am terribly, wonderfully, utterly content with the direction my life is taking. I have friends who are funny and kind, kids who are intelligent and healthy, work that is fun and challenging, and a man that I fall in love with all over again at least three times a day.

So today I am going to watch the blizzard outside. I'm going to plug in the Christmas tree, turn on the fireplace and snuggle my babies - all 4 of them. Today, this is exactly where I want to be.

sleep

2010-12-01T21:19:00.001-08:00

Yoda's first night in her new bedroom - alone! We will either get more than the usual 4 hours of sleep, or less. My bet is on the latter.