"That's Not Food!"

Success!  Andy earned all 130 of his stars . . That means that Andy displayed at least 130 moments in which he behaved well, had good manners, or begrudgingly stopped hitting another small child in exchange for moving one step closer to his prize of choice. An airplane with his name on it that flies. Chris found what seemed like a pretty good airplane on Amazon.com.  It had a battery powered launcher that promised to shoot the plane off 100 feet into the distance.  The plane would charge and then soar off to the heavens, or at least to the edge of the parking lot.  Chris was very excited about this plane. "Well, you said you wanted your name on it," Chris said to Andy, getting out the marker.  "So let's write your name on it.  A-N-D-Y."  Pause, turning to me.  "Do you think we should write your phone number on it in case it flies off really far and we can't find it?" "Good God no," I replied.  "Please do not writ...

I was recently sent a copy of Brad Berger's "Unplug & Play!  50 Games That Don't Need Charging."    While it's definitely a few years ahead of Andy and Alex's time, I thumbed through the thin, glossy book and immediately had a vision of a fun weekend in Lake Geneva with a couple of drunken friends- a Dan, a Mike, two Megs, and me and Chris.  The first night, in our rented condo by good old Lake Whatsitsname (not Geneva, possibly Delavan or maybe it was just a large puddle; my mind is start to fade), we had strong drinks, good food, excellent music, and a spontaneous dance party that may or may not have involved pretending bananas were telephones and/or cowboy guns.  We also sat around and played games for most of the night, laughing hard and having a blast.  This was before I was even pregnant with Andy, about five years ago at this point, and I am struck with many feelings when I remember this fun weekend. 1.  We should have had more weekends l...

First Easter Egg Hunt.  Location, Park District.   Here's the deal with the Park District egg hunt.  You get there, you meander around for twenty minutes wondering what you're supposed to do, and then you shove your child to the front of an increasingly disorderly line simply because you fear your child will not get a single egg. You've seen the bags of available eggs, you've done a rough count of the crowd, and the odds are simply not in your favor.  Would there be anything more heartbreaking than getting your kid all fired up about going on an egg hunt only to come home empty handed?  Anything sadder than optimistically selecting an egg carrying sack at home and then not being able to stick a single egg in it?  I think not. Alex's age group went first.  The Park District people dumped a bunch of plastic eggs out of a couple of garbage bags, very slowly yelled GO, and Alex and I were off.  Alex walked forwards, slowly selected two eggs of...

Lately, I've been wanting another baby.  Before we get all worked up, let me just say that I am not pregnant, not planning on getting pregnant, and Chris, upon hearing these whimsical thoughts, promptly drove out to get a vasectomy and salami sandwich.  When I said, "Wow, we should have discussed this first," Chris was quick to defend himself.  "We HAVE discussed this.  You know how much I like salami." Anyway, at this point, I'm pretty sure our family is complete.  When Chris and I talk about having a third baby, we can only come up with negatives.  We've always agreed on two children, and the world is seemingly built for families of four.  From spaces in a car, restaurant booth, players in most board games, and number of people most Groupons cater to, four seems to be that magic number.  And then there are the more reasonable concerns.  We have a small house.  Another baby would be a huge expense.  Being pregnant is miserable. ...

Lately, Andy has been stingy with his love, declaring that he loves only Mommy, Daddy, and Alex (sometimes) but not anybody else.  He has stated, matter-of-factly, that he does not love his grandparents or aunts or uncles, and his feelings for his two baby cousins are rather lukewarm.  These are not the words of a boy who is trying to be mean, malicious, or hurtful.  This is just a three year old speaking the truth as he knows it.  The intensity of feelings one might have for the best mother on Earth and a decent enough father and a booger-ish little brother are beyond compare to those he has for the extended family on the outer rings of his little planet. His grandfather told him a month or so ago that he loved him, and Andy blinked back at him and shook his head.  "I don't love you," he replied, seemingly confused on why the conversation needed to occur in the first place.  When pressed, Andy admitted, "I like you a lot... but I only love my family." ...

And so we rode the indoor merry-go-round at Jumps 'n' Jiggles no less than sixty-three times that day. Included in the boys' admission price of $4.00 each was UNLIMITED merry-go-round rides, which sounds like the deal of a century but is actually a quite hilarious joke on the parents if you really stop and think about it. This is what we looked like the first time we rode the merry-go-round.  And this is what we looked like three hours later. Clearly, this isn't accurate.  There was no alcohol involved and the pumpkins portraying Andy and Alex show signs of queasiness, which was not the case.  They could have ridden that merry-go-round forever and ever, off into the sunset and forward into puberty.  I might have been okay with this for Andy, since he's old enough to ride alone... but even with me holding onto Alex, my little one still almost slipped off his pony a couple of times (oops).  Just call me Butter Fingers! But the unending merr...