There's A Name For This Piece Of Art

And it's called, "Yet Another Way To Drive Your Mama Crazy."

What are they? Oh, just the laces from one of those kits by Melissa and Doug.

But who wants to use a toy for its actual purpose, anyway?

Certainly not my kids.

There's a Ma to be bugged, and they'll search high and low for just the right tools for the job.

Campers and Ziggy will sit inside the cabinets, and pull the connected doors open and shut.

All while I'm fixing lunch, or washing dishes.

Why, why, why??!?!? It must be their deep abiding love for me, and sheer marveling in my presence. THAT must be why.

What A Ham

Finally watched the movie Charlotte's Web, after having read the book a while back. We had to clean the cobwebs from our mind, so to speak, so that we could remember the story. That's what happens when you wait in line to borrow the DVD from the library. Seems there was a city-wide interest in pigs and spiders.

But back to the movie. Our dear Charlotte, blessed Charlotte, bit the dust. Kinda hard to forget that part. Fortunately, Campers hasn't learned how to make fun of his Ma while she sits and sniffles on the couch, grieving the loss of a make-believe spider.

And you thought YOU had problems.

Speaking of cheap entertainment and problems, I asked Campers if I could have a picture of him with the DVD case, so that we could remember our happy book reading and sappy movie watching.

And while he hasn't learned to poke fun at my sappy-movie tears, he has discovered how to have fun with a photo shoot.

"Fun" being a subjective word meaning "fun" to him and "fume" to me.

What a ham.

At least it wasn't Wilbur.

Fun With Chinglish

Went to my neighborhood Asian market the other day. Was looking for a mangosteen to give to my lived-in-Thailand-but-is-quite-Caucasian friend for her birthday.

Decided to stop and ask the cashier who is a friendly gal of course, but does speak a good amount of Chinglish.

Conversation:

Ma: "Yes...I'm looking for a 'mangosteen.' Do you have any of those?"

Her: "Uhhh...What ees it?"

Ma: "It's a fruit."

Her: "Flesh?"

[Big pause as I look at her in confusion, wondering why she is asking me about 'flesh.' Have we moved on to meat? Does she think I'm asking about a cut of meat?? Oh dear. This is not good.]

And then, after an "aha" moment, using my best "shouting" voice, as is necessary when speaking to someone with a different native tongue, I say:

Ma: "OH!!!! FRESH!!!!!!! Yes, it's a fresh fruit."

Her: "No, no, we done haf enny ting like dat."

Oh, I love me some Asians, and some good conversations in Chinglish.

15 Seconds Of Fame - In Print

Sister Susie is already using up her Fame Allotment.

No, that's not her on the cover.

Just wanted to let you know which magazine she appears in. Adoptive Families, February 2008 edition.

Here she is! On the family album page. Right page, middle of the bottom.

See her?

Props to Pa for the groovy shot. (Not the one you see in this post. The one in the magazine.)

Kudos to Ma for sending it in. (Thank me. Thank me very much.)

And three cheers to Susie for being so cute.

Oboe Night At The Library

Pa had to impress the kids at Symphony Story Time at the library.

He was the only one who could get his straw-meets-dixie-cup to sound like an instrument.

Kinda helps that he was a music major in college.

Cheater.

But beyond his skills as an instrumentalist, he is also a Wise Daddy. Seems the oboe player from the symphony was passing the instrument around for each of the kids to try.

Oh...oh...OH!!

That Pa kept the germs at bay and whisked our sweet boys off to home.

Where the kids just passed around their "oboes."

And germs. Can't forget the germs.

Introducing The Newest Member Of Our Household

For those of you who saw the title and thought "pet," "pregnancy," or "pretty Taiwanese baby*," you're wrong.

A friend of ours moved "back home again (doot doot doot doo) to Indiana" and willed us her TV.

Someone is enjoying this new addition a little too much.

He says he watches TV now so that he can get his Vitamin D.

(From the glow, if you're wondering what that last line was about.)

So this TV is Large. It commands a presence over the whole downstairs.

Great. Now I have competition.

But our PBS. It comes in clear, that it does.

And the neighbors are enjoying the show as well.

*Our adopted baby girl from Taiwan will be the last and final and total completion to our family. A REAL addition. Coming in 2009. We think.

Well Wouldya Lookat That!

Some snow appeared this morning, showing its face the second time since we've moved here three months ago. Natives tell me that It Does Not Snow Around Here, at least not enough to talk about.

But talk about it these city folk do! This light dusting had lips-a-flappin', schools closed, and CHAINS on the bus tires.

Amusement Galore.

And it melted by early afternoon. Now that's what I call, "perfect snow."

That's The Most Expensive Car Wash THIS Van's Ever Had

My baby is back! I had to part with her for a miserable 72 hours, while she went to the shop for some fixing.

You might remember the little van-meets-parking-garage-pole incident, or maybe you don't.

But now her front left fender is back to new, and she looks better than ever. You cannot imagine my delight when I saw that the body shop had given my van a wash. A wash!!! The thought of it!

However, the inside was still a trash heap, but I wouldn't have recognized it otherwise.

Happy "Van Is Fixed Day" to me.

All Good Things Must Come To An End

[Backtrack blogging a bit.]

Here is Pa Senior, testing the limits of his lap and the stamina of his voice. The kids showcase their perfect cute voices when they ask, "Another book? Can we read another book, Grandpa?"

And if you ask me what Campers is doing, I don't know. I never know with these kids. He's just eating some dumb toy.

But like any good story, Ma and Pa Senior's visit to see us has come to an end.

And I have word from the airline that they have officially run out of Kleenex.

Thanks, Mom.

I Want Him To Learn To Read, But...

Ziggy (3) can "read" four words now. The following vocabulary list will showcase the joys of having a second-born child with a smarty-pants brother (6).

Mom
Dad
Poop
Butt

I'm not sure if I should be offended, horrified, or amused.

A little bit of each, I think.

Numismatics

Numismatics may sound like people with breathing issues, but alas, it just refers to coin collectors.

There. There's your 25 cent word for the day.

Who said blogging can't be educational??

Anyhoo, speaking of 25 cents, we've been collecting the state quarters ever since they started printing the buggers way back in 1999. And aren't we an original bunch, considering that half the population is doing the same thing.

But anyway, I discovered that coin collecting is a great way to get the grandparents to pitch in a pile of quarters every few months or so. I just send them the list of quarters we are still missing, and "voila!" Several appear at my doorstep--delivered personally by Ma Senior.

(There's always a catch!)

(Now Mother. You KNOW I kid.)

But you have to give her credit. She traveled from the Midwest to the Pacific Northwest just to give us those coins.

Oh, and maybe to see the grandkids. Pfft. Side benefit.

So here is Ma Senior, learning a lesson in patience as she sorts through the pile and lets the boys smash them into place. Because even though "numismatics" might be a word they know, "delicateness" is not.

Here's the Zig, thinking long and hard about which coin he is going to pluck out first. Because for every coin-in-the-right-spot action, there is an equal and opposite reaction. There. Vocab words AND science, all in the same post.

And the Campers, loving the organization and obsessive compulsiveness of it all:

And if any of you want to contribute to the Ma and Pa collection, I will happily list the needed coins here.***

Because I know that some of you were thinking just that. You numismatic supporters, you.

***
Texas 2004 D
Kansas 2005 D
West Virginia 2005 D
Colorado 2006 P
Nevada 2006 D
Nebraska 2006 D
Montana 2007 D
Washington 2007 P
Idaho 2007 D & P
Wyoming 2007 D & P
Utah 2007 D
Oklahoma 2008 D & P
New Mexico 2008 D & P
Arizona 2008 D & P
Alaska 2008 D & P
Hawaii 2008 D & P

Hi Ho, Hi Ho, It's Up The Walls We Go

There's nothing like family photos to send the nerves right through the roof.

But we do it anyway. Because no day would be complete if we didn't tease those nerves just like we 80s gals used to tease our bangs.

[Had myself a little Aqua Net memory, right there.]

But where was I.

Here are Ma and Pa Senior with Sister Susie, Ziggy, and Campers.

All gussied up for church.

Looks like the gang is having fun in this picture.

But then the hooligans have to sit with the Mean and Dreadful Ma and Pa. Oh, the frowns, the scowls.

Maybe it's because Ma and Pa are snarking through gritted teeth "smile.or.else" kinds of threats, whereas (we find out after the pictures are taken) Ma Senior was promising the kids a dollar each if they smiled.

Hey. Where were those dollars when *I* was growing up. Huh? Huh?!? HUNH?!?!?

Look, Ma! I'm smiling! I'm smiling! Give me my stinkin' dollar!

Oh, excuse me. What I meant to say was, "Give me my stinkin' dollar, please."

[smile]

Where A Kid Can Be A Kid

Here at Chuck E Cheese, we see who the "kids" really are:

Campers was offering to walk up the skee ball machine to put the balls in the high-scoring holes. That's my boy. Always-a-thinkin' how to win. Now we just need to tweak the integrity issue a bit...

Meanwhile, Susie is saying "FEED ME" and Ma Senior is saying "OKAY!"

And then Pa Senior had to impress us all at the pinball machine.

Which reminds me of the infamous pinball game story.

Take note: I didn't say interesting story, just infamous.

So when I was a kid, my dad (Pa Senior) would take my brother and me to pick my mom (Ma Senior) up from work on Friday nights. Then we'd go to Pool's Pizza (please, anyone, someone tell me you remember that place) for dinner and eat, well, you know, pizza.

It was there that they had a pinball game, where my brother and I learned to revere our dad as The King Of The Machine.

One night, someone had left the pinball machine with a quarter already in it, so we started to play. And we kept playing and playing and playing and playing (said like Forrest Gump) and winning and winning and winning and it became The Pinball Game That Would Not Stop.

Great for the ego, that game was. Maybe not so good for the waistline, as we also happened to be eating in between all this winning. And because I have such a great memory for details, I don't remember how the night ended. Did we finally lose? Or were there more balls to be played when we left the pizza shop?

Oh, my family will have to bail me out again. I've got the memories! Just not the details.

Fun times, fun times.

So anyhoo, here's the beloved machine, and everyone looking on with awe:

Course, any mistakes Pa Senior might have made could have been due to the three-person fan club he had hanging from his every limb.

But it's the stuff that (sketchy and scattered) memories are made of, yessirree.

The Flinstones Go To Town

While the Ma and Pa Senior were in town, our local community center held a family night. This just meant that the kids blew off some steam in the gym (or pool or skating rink) and the parents collapsed on the side.

Sounded like a marvelous adventure to me.

But let's take a look at the little Flinstone kids, who were doing an admirable job of hogging the Cozy Coupe toys:

And look! Sister Susie is coordinated enough now to play in one herself!

Okay, so she fell through the hole a few times. And could only go backwards.

But we're making progress, that we are.

And if you look carefully in the top right of this photo, you will see three of us lounging around on the sidelines: Ma and Pa Senior, and me.

Germs? What germs?

And just for the record, I would like Sister Susie to know that she did get to use a walker toy during her toddler-hood. Here's proof:

Granted, she can already walk and the toy belongs to the community center.

Details, schmee-tails.

(Blessed third child.)

But anyway, we took the Flinstone kiddios home and put them to bed, only to be followed shortly by the worn-out-from-all-the-spectating old folks.

Why? Because there's more fun to come.

Aerial Tram

It's a bird...it's a plane...no, it's the Aerial Tram!

This space-age beauty transports folks back and forth between two medical buildings, traveling 22 mph and rising 500 feet above the ground. Touristy folks like Ma and Pa Senior and their overly-ambitious daughter can ride, for a small fee of eight-gazillion dollars a head.

Or maybe just four.

But still. It is fun to have the grandparents in town. Especially when they offer to pay.

And here are a couple of the hoodlums, looking out the window at the beautiful scenery below.

Or maybe just traffic and the tops of houses.

Oh! And the overcast sky!

And here comes the other tram from the opposite direction.

And, hey! That view isn't so bad after all.

The trees, the skyscrapers, the infamous bridges.

Rock on, my city. Rock on.

We All Live In A Yellow Streetcar-ine

Ma and Pa Senior in town, part whatever of whatever. (Doing a little backtrack blogging.)

So we rode the MAX (train) downtown to catch the streetcar. Now, those two routes do intersect, and thanks to my excellent map-reading skills and planning abilities, I realized this much too late, and made the Seniors and the kids walk out of the way, in the cold, unnecessarily, for a half-hour or longer.

I am all love and compassion, that's for sure.

If this Ma would have been in her right mind, I would have added things like "gloves" and "hats" to the pile. But the tote bag was already eighty-seven pounds and We Were In A Hurry To Get Out And Have Some Fun.

Eventually we did make it to the stop, and loaded our popsicle selves onto this warm mode of public transportation.

And *I* spent the better part of the ride figuring out the ticket machine, buying our tickets and validating our tickets, all the while falling all over myself as the streetcar skerked its way through town.

("Skerk" may not be a word in your dictionary, but it perfectly describes the ride. Smooth enough, of course, but those stops and starts are not at all kind to a 30-something standin' uppenest Ma who had nothing to hold onto but the cash in her hand.)

Thank goodness for Ma and Pa Senior, who did an admirable job of keeping the children upright and entertained:

And what you don't see is Pa Senior talking to a lady even more senior, who happened to say that her daughter was dragging her all through the city to see the sights.

And Pa Senior said in return, "I know how you feel."

Oh, there's a comedian born every minute.

And most of them ended up in my family.

But that wasn't the end of that chatting, as Pa Senior informed this elderly lady his beloved daughter was dragging them to ALL the sights in one weekend so that they would not have a reason to return to the city again.

Oh, he likes to kid.

But the Seniors, they have caught on to me already.

More stories to come.

The MAX, And A Whole Lot Of Other Rambling

So the Ma and Pa Senior were in town this past weekend, and by "Senior" I mean "the parents of the Ma," and not necessarily the gray-haired 55-plus type of crowd.

Though that would apply too, but we don't need to get all into that, as this Ma herself has a good handful of those gray hairs herself, of which she is a bit self-conscious.

Ahem.

Now, back to our regularly scheduled rambling.

So, it's cold, really cold, here in our city. So cold that we all (meaning "I") decided to get outdoors and soak up a little bit of that overcast sky this past weekend.

Let's start with the MAX. I mean, you caint have country come to town and miss out on this snazzy piece of public transportation.

Here Pa Senior is with the Suz, waiting patiently for the train to arrive. We had just missed the previous train, mostly because the Campers was shouting at his Ma: "Mom!!! We are NOT going to RUN to catch that train!!! Do you HEAR ME????!?!?"

Well.

Someone in this family sure is getting to be high-n-mighty-boss-of-the-world.

Wonder where he learns that from?

But the MAX! The MAX!!!

Speaking of the train, Pa had his 15 seconds of fame as HE WAS ON THE LOCAL NEWS last week, giving his Highly Informed Opinions on the future of the MAX. He happened to be at the right place at the right time when the news crew showed up to film. (Read: He was the ONLY one AROUND when the news crew showed up to film.) The boys and I caught the footage on the noon news and were just speechless at seeing a 30-second close-up of the Pa, rambling all the way to nowhere about the light rail and fares and all that jazz.

(I regret to say that there is not a recording of this interview available anywhere.)

(Once I got over the shock of seeing Pa on TV, I called him up, and in a fit of great chuckling, told him that his interview reminded me of Kathleen Kelly's (Meg Ryan) interview (forward to 9:44 and play until 9:56) on You've Got Mail. And we've been shifting our eyes and talking in short spurts at each other ever since.)

But that's just our zany sense of humor, one that is admired by at least two people each day, primarily the Pa and the Ma.

But weren't there some visitors here in town???

Oh yes.

Say "hi" to Ma Senior, who might look like she is hugging the Zig, but mostly she is keeping him from running straight onto the train tracks. Ahhhhh, a Grandmother's love, it knows no end.

And Pa Senior and the Suz again, ON the actual train, which was much much warmer than standing outside in the cold.

And that sign you see in background? ("Priority Seating Area. You are required to move for seniors and people with disabilities.") My eldest son, the Campers, recited those words at the dinner table one night when I happened to use the word "priority."

Now, if we could just get our memory verses learned with such ease, we'd really be getting somewhere.

Speaking of getting somewhere, I will now close out this post and save the next pile of Highly Important Stories for another time.

Country Come To Town!

The boys insisted on parking on the highest level of the airport's parking garage. I nearly hurled my breakfast driving up the seven circular ramps to the top.

But from there, we got a great view of the elevator that wasn't working (not shown) and of all sorts of manly construction equipment. Very important.

And here are the kids, giving TSA just one more reason to make us look suspicious. Ma with oversized camera, screaming baby, little boy in scary pumpkin shirt...the list goes on.

Princess High-N-Mighty-Told-Ya-So-Boss-Of-The-World got her way and ended up out of the stroller.

(Where she basically became a speed bump for oncoming travelers.)

But who were we waiting for, you ask?

Grandpa and Grandma!!

Of course!!

The kids were so excited to see them that they completely shut down from the emotional overload. Too cute.

And now we are having fun to the max, dontcha know.

Whistle While You Work

Got me some goooood child labor going today.

Course, we ended up with dust balls in places where there weren't dust balls before, but hey. We were "cleaning."

Why all the effort, you ask??

I mean, it isn't every month that we scrub the toilets.

Because company is coming!

(Why else?!?!)

And for the two of the eight thousand readers who haven't heard who, I'll just let that be a little surprise for tomorrow.

A person has to have something to look forward to.

Meanwhile, you can gaze at my glove, and pretend you can hear me saying to the Zig (age 3), "No! Get my head in the picture. My HEAD!!!"

And The Reason We Read The Book Is...

We live in Beverly Cleary's hometown! Where many of her stories take place!

[And in case you need a refresher course, think "Ramona the Pest," "Beezus and Ramona," and "Henry Huggins," the book we just read.]

Oh sakes alive was I excited when I found that out. And that there is a park in town with Ramona, Henry Huggins, and Ribsy statues to honor Ms. Cleary.

And that Klickitat Street? It is real.

I KNOW!!!

HOW COOL IS THAT?!?!?!

And here are my boys, checking out the statue of Ramona Quimby:

They were showing their excitement on the inside.

And Campers cozying up to Henry Huggins:

And it took some convincing, but I got the Pa to sit on Ribsy:

When we read through the book, it was a real treat to recognize the names of streets and rivers and parks. Well, at least it was for me.

Thanks for playing along and humoring the Ma.

Bright Sunshiny Day

Some days, my need for Vitamin D is so huge I can feel it.

Ahhhhhhhhhh...

I actually had to squint when we went outside. Yikes! Haven't done that in months.

Reminds me of the ol' Midwest, where "snow blindness" is an everyday ordinary kind of thing.

Can't say as if I miss that too much.

But the sunshine. That I miss.

It was a bright (bright), bright (bright) sunshiny day.