Hooligans on Halloween

Superman, Buzzy Bee, and Spiderman:

Campers:

Ziggy:

Here Zig, Campers, and Pa are at the local Halloween party, where Pa and I "helped", as much as two people with three squidgy kids dosed up on decorated cookies can "help":

The boys each came home with a big bag of candy, which Pa and I are happily using as leverage for all kinds of good behavior. ("Oh, so you want to throw a screaming fit? Okay, we'll take out one piece of candy and put it in the trash.") I LOVE IT, THIS EVILNESS!!! I think Pa should have dressed up as the Demon Daddy Incarnate. And I went as myself, the Disgruntled Irritable Housewife and Mother of Three. I was very convincing.

The Bees Are A Bit Buskity This Year

Lovin' the Bee Suit:

A whole lot:

And here's Sister Susie's Cowardly Lion impersonation:

Well at least she could chew on the costume, if nothing else:

We Try Not To Laugh, But It's Hard

So the three boyz were playing Go Fish tonight, and when it was Ziggy's turn to let Campers know that he wasn't holding the matching card he'd requested, he shouted out:

"GOLD FISH!!!"

I don't know what is wrong with Campers and me, but we must have giggled like a couple of school kids for about five minutes. Poor Zig was so distraught over our (ongoing) laughter at his accidental antics that he stopped playing the game. And then Pa, the Glue That Binds Everyone Together And Keeps The Peace, gave us a nice three-point sermon about how we shouldn't embarrass the dear child by laughing at his three-year-old speech-isms.

But that Zig, he's a funny guy. He just doesn't know it yet.

Welcome-een

Pa, in his infinite Creative Wisdom, decided that we needed to Meet The Neighbors. So he came up with the idea to do Reverse Trick-Or-Treating, where instead of knocking on doors and asking for spaz-and-cavity-inducing candy, we delivered bags of chocolate to them. All in all we handed out 16 bags, and talked (and talked and talked) to a lot of neat people [see below for the full list from Pa].

It was nice to connect with such a diverse group of people, who--once they realized we were not Solicitors of either wrapping paper or religion--were happy to talk with us as well.

Here's the Poetic Part of the bag of goodies, again hats off to Pa:

We're your neighbors just down the street
Just stopped by to trick-or-treat.
There's no trick--the treat's for you,
Our little way of saying "Hellooo!"

This was the Top Secret Project that Campers and I were working on yesterday, counting the number of houses on our block. It was good to get out of the house again tonight and figure out just exactly Who Are The People In Our Neighborhood.

And now that we have had enough social interaction to last us a month, we will hibernate until we gear up some more nerve to make the rounds again.

See, just look at how good the City Life is for us! We left the house! And talked to people!


[Here's a quick glimpse of the people on our block, for those who like the details: the 81-year-old talkative, lonely guy in the wheelchair… the enthusiastic heavily tattooed and funky hippie rock band couple… the prim upper middle class lady who lives next to her kind elderly mother… the disheveled, cigarette infused caretaker of the woman in the wheelchair who rides up and down the block all the time… the single white adoptive mom with the howling dog and three rambunctious African American boys--one who gave both Campers and Zig a big hug… the kind Hispanic family who relies on their 7-year-old daughter to translate our conversation… the middle age couple who’ve been wanting to get to know the neighbors… the hip young couple who’d like to do a block party barbecue…]

So I Like Me Those African Traditions

So I picked up a copy of I Lost My Tooth In Africa, a book we read once or twice back in the Midwest. Well it seemed more appropriate since we now have a boy with a loose tooth, and I was especially delighted with the Tooth Fairy tradition in Africa: the child is given a live chicken in exchange for the tooth.

Now that's my kind of fun! We so need a chicken in our three square yards of grass! Just think of the eggs! The meat!

Oh, but I was talking about teeth, yes I was.

So Campers' tooth is getting wobblier, but it hasn't hit the gross-me-out stage.

Oh, and the best part of I Lost My Tooth In Africa is that the author and illustrator are from our city. Campers thought that was pretty cool. In a get-a-chicken-for-a-tooth kind of way.

Oh, and when I explained the Tooth Fairy to Campers today, he laughed at the idea and then asked me: "So does anyone actually believe the Tooth Fairy exists?" [That's my boy. The realist.]

Yes I Know It's Just A Pan But I'm Still Going To Sulk

It's been 10 years since the Pa and I got the mother-load of wedding gifts, so all of our current pots and pans are good for nothing better than banging on with a wooden spoon. That is, if I actually LET my kids do that, but you see, that would send me up the Crazy Hill and back, and I'm already hanging out near the top anyway.

So when it came time to replace one of my larger pots, I Chose Well. I Chose Calphalon. I practically buckled that saucier in a car seat the day I brought it home from the mall.

So tonight, I was steaming an Enormously Large Quantity of broccoli, which is one of the reasons I Loved Me That Pot, and got a wee bit sidetracked by the stir fry in another pan and a youngin' on my leg and a husband yakkin' and the boys a runnin'. And even when I smelled something burning, it didn't dawn on me that maybe, just maybe, I should look into that.

So when it came time to heap onto the plates the gorgeous, perfectly steamed organic broccoli, that's when I located the smell.

I peeked inside my New Saucier [OH GOOD GRAVY I GASPED] and saw lots of black burnt stuff on the bottom. So I said to Pa, "Ummmmmm...there was only water in the bottom of this pot...what's the Black Stuff?"

And in his Infinite Scientific Wisdom, proudly proclaimed: "That, my dear, is your non-stick coating."

Oh.........I...........about..............passed..............out.

[Well first let me tell you that yes, I DID throw out a BIG pile of broccoli, which was probably a good thing, since it reeked of chemicals and other nasty things.]

And then I sat down to sulk. And doom. And gloom. All through dinner.

Pa felt it necessary to ask if I'd "remember this when I was 80" [YES] or if this was worth "ruining a whole day over" [YES] and if it "could be replaced" [NOT WITHOUT SELLING MY KIDNEYS TO SCIENCE].

I'm telling you; there are not many things I get attached to, but my Quality Kitchen Cookware lands high on the list.

So while I scrubbed dishes and grieved the loss of my pan, I noticed that Campers had quietly slipped away to "work on a secret project."

About 15 minutes later, he came downstairs with this:

[Well, it's done on the computer, of course, because he is Our Son, after all.]

So I hugged his stick-straight body (because that is how he 'hugs') and kissed his little head and said, "Campers, you love your Mama even when she gets all upset over a Dumb Pan?"

And then he said, "That's why I made you the note."

[Now will someone please run to Tar-zhey and pick up a caseload of Kleenex, because my Sensitive Boy broke through the hard-anodized aluminum of my heart and Made It All Better.]

And now I will stare at the Wonderful Goodness of All Things Calphalon, and wonder if the Tooth Fairy is into Cookware.

I Just Watch The Story Unfold

See, Sister Susie? This is how you make a mess. Very easy.

And Oh! My Goodness! This Kleenex! Must! Be Eaten!

Oh, but never fear! Big Brother is here! To contort your body and stick his grubby little germ-filled hands right into your mouth to pull out the wad.

And now isn't she a thing of beauty? (Yes, yes, get the hose.)

Hippo-huh?

Ziggy and I have been reading through Animal Alphabet: Learn with Me the ABCs. We take turns saying the letters or the animals. When he sees an animal that he doesn't recognize ("newt" for example), he pauses and then frantically cries out, "I CAN'T KNOW WHAT IT IS!!!"

Well, today we got to the "Hh" page, and after a short pause, Ziggy shouted out:

"Hippo-ra-nocerous!"

Campers and I snorted and snuffed quite riotously over that. I howled for so long I could hardly get the correct pronunciation out of my mouth.

Wur doin' some good lurnin', dats rite.

Prickly Pine Cones

More Pacific Northwest novelties--pine cones lying all along the city streets. Kids had to pick these up too, but quickly threw them down again as they were prickly.

This is one of the few items that didn't get hauled home to be put on top of the dining room table. Or the living room floor. Or stuck in the van. Those boys like their Nature Stuff.

The Falling Leaves...Right In The Roadway

We found some Holy Honkin' Tree Leaves out on our walk today. Of course, the kids had to run right out and capture them in the [VERY QUIET AND TRAFFIC-LESS] street.

A Bit Overdressed, I Think

We walked around the neighborhood this afternoon, bundled up for winter. Okay, so it was really nice outside and the kids probably didn't need jackets at all, let alone snow suits. (Thomas, Put On Your Snowsuit!)

So we blew off some steam and Campers did some "school" by writing down house numbers to practice his numerals. We're working on a Top Secret Family Project that will show up On The Big Screen (or internet, as the case may be). I am certain the neighbors must think we are spies, with all the peering we did at their houses and the shouting (the kids!) we did of their addresses. What can I say, the Pa and Ma Crew have Moved To The City. "Discreet" is not in our dictionary.

Backwards Man

Ziggy dressed himself this morning, as I usually ask him to do. Of course my "asking" and his "following through" do not always happen in the same 24 hour period. But I bribed him with a snack, so Wonder Boy dressed in no time flat. This picture shows his pants on backwards (which he wore this way all day) but the initial outfit had the shirt on backwards as well. He quickly changed it around after Campers and I hooted and pointed for five minutes flat.

It's a wonder that my children have any self-esteem at all.

I Love Me Some Wiggle Car!

Here's our Sister Susie, on a Wiggle Racer Car, just asking to be catered to by Big Brother Campers. We were at a friend's house, the folks we met at church who have adopted two little girls from China, roughly the same age as C & Z. We had a good time chatting and sharing a meal and keeping up with five hooligans.

And now that I look at this picture, I see that Campers' jeans have moved from being "cool" to being "cold". Who is his mother, anyway??

Quintessential Zig

Undies sticking out, socks off, squidging up next to someone. That's our Zig.

Just Chillin'

And chilly she is, that Sister Susie. Here she is with her protector, Campers. Looks like what she really needs is someone to dress her!

And if Campers is looking a little, well, "sick", he is. Got the creepin' crud, hackin' up a lung and complaining about how when he keeps his mouth open, he has the urge to cough. Well, I solved that problem real quick, being the Super Mama that I am. Just keep your mouth shut, honey!!!

Multnomah Falls

Our little drive into the "country" today led us to Multnomah Falls, the second tallest year-round waterfall in the nation.

On the drive there, Ziggy thought Pa said we were going to see a Really Big "Marble" (instead of "waterfall").

Here we are at the entrance to the falls:

And a nice overview of the two-tiered falls:

And our happy smiley children, who are trying not to smirk at the Crazy Stranger Trying To Get Them To Smile (because you see, Ma and Pa are Too Old and Too Tired to do the Smile For The Picture Gymnastics anymore):

And here's Campers, who crossed the high bridge with Pa, while Ma and the Babes found the potty and the gift shop. Because, after you have experienced a good deal of Natural Beauty, Nature calls and so does that blasted Materialism.

This Land Was Made For You And Me

Here's another reason we chose our city, or as Pa says, "Our City Chose Us". Less than 20 minutes outside the city limits are hills and valleys and rivers and mountains and everything good and right in the world. We took a scenic drive today, and the boys were particularly excited about the "big huge trees" and the "curvy durvy road".

One of the great things about our city is that there are laws preventing "urban sprawl" which maintains the beauty of the surrounding area. The natives love their city, but they also love their hikes and their bikes and so do we.

So now wasn't it just refreshing to see some lovely scenery today, fall splendor and all.

Urban Chic

The Boyz wait for the city bus. They are Too Cool For School. All they need now is a skateboard.

Waiting To Smile

Here's our Happy Peppy People Person, delighted to have the camera pointed at her:

I think I see another tooth coming in...might explain the Buckets-O-Drool:

I don't know, but I think there might be enough hair there for a ponytail...out the top:

Oh, are you taking another picture of me?? Okay, if you insist:

Because You HAVE To Use The Umbrella

Even when the chair is inside, the umbrella must be up. This was Ziggy's reading place of choice today. Of course he wanted me to sit next to him, on the floor, where my Badonkadonk soon got sore, so my reading sped up.

But he's a fast listener, so we're all good.

There is No End to my Mothering Skillz and Instinks.

Yep, Math Is Fun

Ziggy gets in on the Math Homework.

Who says I don't know how to have fun??? Huh??!? Who??

Okay, so it was Ziggy's idea to put those blocks on his fingers. But at least I laughed. And then I went on with my Great Monologue about Units and Counting and Now It's Time To Put Those Blocks Away So You Can Do Something Educational, Like Watch TV.

Units, Tens, Hundreds...Or...We'll Just Build Stuff

It's a good thing I spent good money on these math blocks. Because when you really want to avoid thinking about things like "place value" and "decimal street" (Let's hear it for Math-U-See!), there are always buildings to be built.

Workbook? What workbook??!?!

What's The Going Rate For A Tooth These Days?

While inhaling his dinner the other night, Campers complained that his tooth was "weird" when he actually took the time to bite down. I mean, most of the time, it's like there's a shop vac sitting across the table from me, racing to see who can suction the most solids and liquids in the least amount of time.

Sometimes I win, and that feels good.

I have yet to figure out where Campers gets his competitive spirit, or that internal drive that says, We Must Do This Quickly and We Must Do This NOW.

But I digress.

So I finally put two and two together and realized that yes indeedy, my Baby Boy, my Firstborn, has a Loose Tooth. Truly I thought he'd have his baby teeth until his teen years. But alas, one of his lower teeth is wobbling back and forth a bit ("wobbly bits" for you Bridget Jones fans) and I estimate it will be out in two weeks or less. Let's hear your guesses! Winner gets the tooth in the mail! [Buw wa ha ha!]

If you are wondering which tooth it is exactly, it is right behind where his finger is pointing, and yes you can see two tiny teeth behind that finger, but it's the one on our right. And if you're wondering what Campers thinks about all of this, he is Over-The-Top-Excited, well, as excited as he can get.

And thanks to advice from my friend who shall remain nameless but her dog's name is "Pearl", we are seriously considering skipping the visit from the You Know Who.

I know, I am LOADS of fun.

But I cannot keep up with 85 teeth x 4 children x 15 years of my life. This Tooth Fairy Gal cuts into my Finances too severely.

Happy Loose Tooth, Son. Here's your lump of coal.

High Heels, Leg Cramps, And Crabby Chickens

It's been a long time since I've finished a meal where I didn't have to crawl under the table with a shovel to clean up the worst of the mess. That wouldn't have been very ladylike, anyway, especially in my Power Suit, which hasn't seen the light of day in quite some time. Oh, and the Blasted High Heels, which may look great but do nothing more than add leg cramps to what could have been a peaceful night of sleep.

But enough about me, maybe I'll mention important details like where we were and such.

Last night was the mission's annual fund raising event, complete with a full meal and Starbucks coffee. Our server asked me, "Chicken or crab?", and once I realized she was not asking for my Mood-Of-The-Day, I requested the chicken. (Same as Pa. Because you want to know that detail I am just sure of it.)

There were tear-jerker stories and oh yes, Dave Dravecky spoke too, which was inspirational and fun and where is that cloth napkin again to wipe up the tears. He did use a lot of baseball speak though, which even for us Supremely-Athletic Sports-Minded Folks, was a bit tough to follow.

(Oh, I like to kid.)

We were seated with a handful of the guests of honor, namely, men who have graduated from the "total life recovery" program. Dressed in tuxedos and faced with a table setting with more forks than you could shake a knife (or two) at, these guys surely must have felt a bit intimidated. But, it was an honor to see them treated so respectfully (you know, like "people") and at the end of the evening I realized, Yes, These Are Just Ordinary Folk, No Weirder Than Pa Or Me. (Well, I guess that may not be saying much.)

But I will say, it was a new experience carrying on a conversation with such folks. For starters, they were men, single ones at that, so out the window went all Mom Stories and all other kinds of Intelligent Things [sarcasm] I have to add to every discussion. And no kidding, I'll bet we were the only table to share a good deal of our plates of food (and the meal was not family style) all the while having a good laugh about Big Macs and the perennial favorite, the Dollar Menu.

You thought our jokes were bad before. Well, now you can just add Homeless Humor to the shtick.

But enough of my nonsense, on to Pa. He dove head first into his first week of work, and helped get the banquet off the ground. He has walked to Kinkos in the rain, transitioned to a Mac computer, and collected enough public transportation stories to delight us all.

So here's a nice Red Eye shot of the two of us, dressed for success:

And a bird's eye view of the banquet, which was all-in-all a nice way to kick-start Pa's first week of work:

And yes, the men in tuxedos on the stage were singing, a nice Chris Tomlin ditty--Amazing Grace--which was a humbling song for us all. Because whether we have a roof over our heads or not, we're all chained up in some way, but can be set free.

"Amazing Grace (My Chains Are Gone)"

Amazing grace
How sweet the sound
That saved a wretch like me
I once was lost, but now I'm found
Was blind, but now I see
'Twas grace that taught my heart to fear
And grace my fears relieved
How precious did that grace appear
The hour I first believed

My chains are gone
I've been set free
My God, my Savior has ransomed me
And like a flood His mercy reigns
Unending love, Amazing grace

The Lord has promised good to me
His word my hope secures
He will my shield and portion be
As long as life endures

The earth shall soon dissolve like snow
The sun forbid to shine
But God, Who called me here below
Will be forever mine
Will be forever mine
You are forever mine

Campers On Skates

Once Campers saw what "fun" his brother was having on skates, he decided he could try too. I must say, he was far more balanced than Zig. It might have something to do with the different energy levels. Campers intuitively knew to "play it safe" and keep his skates on the ground, whereas I think Zig was try to fly with them on.

Here he is on the carpet. Now, doesn't he look very Scotty Hamiltonish?

And lest you wonder what Sister Susie was busy doing during the skating fun, here she is, packing on some more Cheerio pounds:

Rag Doll Roller Skating

No words fully convey Ziggy on roller skates. "Rag Doll" is a good start. "Octopus" might be another.

(If you've remember that scene in "While You Were Sleeping" where Sandra Bullock is slipping all over the ice, THAT comes close to Zig on Skates.)

So here we are, at the home school play time at the local community center. During part of the time, the kids can skate on the rink. Well, neither of the boys have done such a feat, mostly because it always sounds like a lot of work and not a lot of fun for Pa and me. But TODAY, I must have taken my Crazy Pills, because I said "Hey, you boys wanna skate??"

Mmm-hmmmm. One mama. Two boys on roller skates. YOU calculate the potential emergency room bill.

Ziggy was the first to say "yes" to trying it out. As we swam, er skated one round, he kept hollering "I can't skate!! I'm no good at skating! I HATE skating! I wanna be done with skating!!"

All the while I was giggling like a school girl, because you haven't seen "funny" until you've seen Goof On Skates. I never knew the kid had so many legs.

So once I sat him down to be done with the whole skating routine, he said "I want to play skate some more!" Of course.

Here he is, just getting his skates on:

And here is the crazy mama in a rare, sane moment (and NO, I didn't push that other boy down, and YES, that is Sister Susie off to the side there, feeding her Boredom Addiction):

And now having a good laugh, with Poor Ziggy consistently holding on for dear life:

And then a less stressful skating moment for us all, practicing on the carpet:

It was a fun first skate. All we needed was some 80s music, some puffballs at the end of the skates (right, mom?), a limbo stick, and we'd be all set.

Oh, Is This Not A Toy?

Cheap thrills, folks. Cheap thrills.

And exactly the reason why "toys" rarely come out at our house. We've been in the house two weeks now, and most of the toys are still in the closet, in boxes. Who needs toys when there are "ba-dooooiiiinnnngggssss" to play with?