Be it ever so humble

"We sleeped over two times at the motel. There wasn't a frigerator, there was just breakfast at the motel."

So goes Boy Wonder's summary of what we did on (part of) our Easter vacation. I'll elaborate a bit, though.

As previously mentioned, my paternal grandparents live in Illinois. They used to drive up frequently for visits, but as they are now in their mid-eighties and have assorted health issues, they do not so much make the long drives anymore. So we miss them, and my parents and uncle's family try to make the drive at least a few times a year. As I had a couple of vacation days to use up, the boys and I went along this time.

We stayed in the aforementioned motel, so my grandparents would not need to go to the trouble of readying the guest bedrooms, and also because my mother thought it would be fun to stay in a hotel with a pool and take the boys swimming. She went to great lengths to find a hotel with a pool, and located the one that the local college swim team practiced at. There was great excitement in the ranks--surely this would be a nice, well-maintained pool, if a swim team practiced there!

Well. The message must have gotten garbled somewhere along the line, because as it turns out, 1) it wasn't the local swim team that used the pool, it was the water aerobics class, and 2) they don't use it anymore anyway. Unfortunately for us, this meant that the pool was heated in a rather odd manner, with the heating mechanism turned on at 8:00 a.m., when the pool opened, and off at 10:00 p.m., when the pool closed. So if one were to, say, wish to use the pool in the morning, one would have a very cold pool indeed. And a very chilly Boy Wonder, who kept insisting that he WAS NOT COLD even as his teeth chattered inside purplish lips and he was bundled in towels and taken back to the room to stand directly in front of the heater for twenty minutes. (Action Hero, perhaps because he was perched on my hip during all of our water adventures, was not as chilled.)

Oh, and the hotel was a DUMP. If you're ever in Rantoul, don't stay at the Days Inn. Unless you like the type of atmosphere that makes you wonder when and why the CSIs will be showing up to gather evidence.

But, as it served our purposes well enough, I shall complain no more, and shall now relate pleasant things. It was very nice indeed to see my grandparents, along with my aunt and uncle. Pre-Easter dinner on Saturday was very nice, as was Easter dinner on Sunday; the boys ate chicken and turkey with wild abandon. Grandparents were very impressed by Boy Wonder's coloring skills and verbal acuity, and Action Hero very charmingly sang his versions of the alphabet song and "Twinkle Twinkle Little Star." A good time was had by all.

And boy, are we ever happy to be home. (Home, with some ice for scraping; home, where my iPod's playing; home, where the Advil's waiting silently for me...)

Infernal equinox

Happy Spring, everyone!

Except if you live here, that is. We were just wrapping up a pleasant week of lovely spring weather, in which the 40+ temperatures melted the two feet of dirty-looking snow covering just about every road in the city. Our alley suddenly seemed huge, since the snowbanks on each side of it had departed; driving was suddenly much, much easier; and we finally saw all of the grass in our backyard, most of which we haven't seen since November.

However, despite Spring's official arrival, Winter is not quite ready to quit partying down and go crash somewhere, and is currently reminding us that, after all, we do live in Wisconsin, and should not exactly be surprised that it is snowing in March. This is a bit excessive, though; last time I went outside the drifts were up to my knees, and I just checked the local news online and discovered that we are having an official Snow Emergency. (Less impressive than it sounds; mostly it just means that your car will get towed if you park on certain streets. Also that the airport is full of stranded and pissed-off travelers.)

So yeah, more snow. It is prettier than the last batch, having not gotten all grungy yet. But Dragon is tired of shoveling it, various sets of my neighbors are very likely tired of helping me dig out my car when it gets stuck in the alley, and I am tired of having to make sure that our selection of snowpants, hats, and mittens is always clean and available. Boy Wonder, predictably, is delighted, and said, "Mommy! Look, it snowed again! Yay!" Action Hero, on the other hand, is not, and said mournfully, "Oh, no. Is nowing. Colda all wet. Oh, no."

Colda all wet, man. Oh, no.

Book drop

Today's post is for my father-in-law, who recently returned a book he borrowed and left a couple more along with it.

Last night, I got home from class around 10:00, as is par for the course on Tuesdays, and surveyed the living room in dismay. The piles of clean laundry had not only not magically folded themselves and trotted themselves upstairs, they had actually multiplied. And more junk had arrived, too, and for some reason there was a small stack of books on the couch.

"Dragon! What's with the books...oh, wait, here's I Am Legend and Assorted Other Creepy Tales That Will Send You Running for the Brain Bleach, Including the One About the Zuni Fetish.* Did your dad stop by?"

"I guess; when I opened the door to check the mail those were behind the screen door."

"Hey, he brought the new Ken Follett one! Awesome! But what's he doing reading Alice Sebold?"

"Who?"

Anyway. Three cheers for new books, and I'll get started on those directly. World Without End, amen.

*Part of this title MIGHT be a slight exaggeration.

Name game

"Mom? My name is Stormin' Stripes."

"Uh-huh, that's ni...wait, what?"

"My name is Stormin' Stripes. He is a superhero. He wears stripes and has storm powers!"

"Oh. He's not on TV, is he?"

"No. I made him up in my head."

(pause)

"Actually, my name is Axel Thunderstorm."

"What! Um, okay. Well, that's not a bad superhero name either."

(pause for stop at Golden Arches drive-through)

"What kind of toys did we get in our Happy Meals?"

"I don't know. Maybe a pirate toy? The boxes have pirates on them."

"Oh. Like in Pirates of the Carambeamam?"*

"Just like."

(pause)

"Mom? My name is Captain Thunderstorm."

"Boyboy. Capin Funtorm."**

*Not that we have let him watch these movies. One of his school friends has, though, and is a big fan.

**In which Action Hero shares his opinion, which is that of the Tiny Echo.

The congested concertgoer

Not only was I not kidding about Action Hero's love for cars, I was not kidding about the clogged sinuses either. Good grief. Totally not fair, considering the round of sinus infections that hit Charming Bungalow in late January/early February. But, since this time my ears are not plugged (at least not yet), I decided to deal with my sinus congestion by...going to a concert. Should you ever experience severe sinus congestion, please consider doing the same. You will not actually feel any better (and may, in fact, decide to give up and go visit the doctor already the following morning), but at least you'll feel lousy while listening to one of your favorite bands. And, at a concert, no one can hear you blow your nose (which, after a day or two spent self-consciously honking away in my cubicle, seems like paradise on Earth).

Following are some tips for the congested concertgoer, should you undertake such in the future. You, too, can blow your nose vigorously while enjoying Irish drinking songs!

1. Before leaving, imbibe a glass or two of your favorite alcoholic beverage. (Public Service Announcement: Only complete this step if someone else is providing transport to the concert. Thank you.) This temporarily clears the sinuses, and has the added bonus of getting you to giggle at the whole situation. Frequently, and with vigor.

2. Attend with older relatives. They may complain about not being able to see the band once people in front of you stand up, but they carry cough drops, and one of them will magically produce a bottle of Afrin (purses are amazing things), quite handy for when the temporary wine treatment fails to clear the sinuses.

3. Try to ensure that the people sitting near you have also imbibed their favorite alcoholic beverages (or, in the case of the college students behind us, whatever alcoholic beverages they can afford). They will provide stimulating and distracting conversation to overhear before and after the opening act, and their enthusiasm will be contagious.

4. Wear a warm coat and a sweater. This may seem counterintuitive considering that large, full theaters are not generally cold, but when your fever kicks in again, you will be quite cozy with the extra clothing.

5. Look scruffy and miserable. I swear I did not do this intentionally, but my mother bought me a drink and had to pay $9 for it, while the same vendor charged me $6 for the same drink not 45 minutes later. Something must have inspired that, and I doubt it was because the vendor was bowled over by my beauty and charm.

Cars. No, seriously.

So, the other day I posted about Action Hero's love for cars. Just in case you didn't believe that (there's no reason why you woulnd't have, because, "Gosh, but my almost-two-year-old boy loves to play with cars," isn't that suspicious of a statement), I now have photographic evidence. Today I was doing dishes in the kitchen as Action Hero raced around finding cars, and I noticed he wasn't saying, "Vroom vroom!" to the usual degree. And I turned around to see what he might be up to. Here is what I found*:



He was so intent that I was able to run for the camera. As soon as he heard it click, he looked up and said, "Cars, Mommy! LOTSIE cars!" I agreed; yes, there sure were a lot of cars. Then he said, "Lotsie cars. Need MORE cars!" and raced off, presumably to canvas the neighborhood to see if any of the neighbors had additional toy vehicles in need of lining up on our kitchen floor.

*You may not be able to tell from here, but in just in case you can, the pink thing is a dreidel. Yes, a dreidel. Long story. But Action Hero means no disrespect by adding it to the car lineup, I assure you.

Progress report

May I present Happy and Grumpy? (Guess which is which.)




Actually, "Grumpy" is not all that accurate. More like, "May I present Happy and Too Cool to Smile and Wave at Camera?" Or perhaps, "May I present Happy and Wears Crayon in Hat, Which is Not Really Supposed to be Worn Indoors Anyway?"

Nah, "Grumpy" is shorter. And Happy is pretty accurate.

So, yay! Kids! This blog is supposed to be about them, after all. And they are doing all sorts of fascinating things lately.

Action Hero is a little star, and is generally as happy as he appears in the photo above. Unless I leave the room, and then he looks serious, pops his thumb in his mouth, and follows me. He has recently become quite enamored of toy cars. Hot Wheels, Matchbox, toy from Happy Meal, whatever. This also means that we watch the movie Cars a lot, and he runs around talking about Acqueena (Lightning McQueen, in toddler-ese) quite a lot. He is getting better at communicating overall; last Saturday morning, he said, "Car pay for carcar go vroomvroom shicken!" and instead of being utterly confused, I said, "Oh, you want to play with your cars and make them go vroom on the kitchen floor? Go for it, man." (The kitchen floor is the best place to make cars go vroom, as it turns out; they don't work so well on carpeting. Unfortunately, they often vroom right under the stove; it's like a little parking structure under there. I will have to retrieve them soon, lest we end up with Matchbox Melt on the linoleum.) He is also very interested in being a Big Boy lately. His daycare teacher mentioned that he had been asking to use the potty, and I thought, Yeah, whatever...he's not even two. He's just asking because he sees other kids doing it and wants to pretend he can. So naturally, last night, he said, "Potty," did a little dance, and then used his little training potty. Twice. I suppose we must work on this now.

Boy Wonder is still voicing every thought that floats through his head, and then some. His questions are getting more complicated, though; the latest was, "If a shark ate a crab and then the crab pinched the shark's throat, what would happen" Dude, I don't know. And what is it with the questions about crabs, anyway? He can recite the full names of everyone in our household, knows our address, and is working on my phone number. He likes school, and says that his favorite class is gym. Oh, and music. Oh, and art. And computer too. Mostly, he is nice to his littel brother, and always introduces him proudly. Recent variations include, "This is my baby brother Action Hero and he is just like me! He is just the same as me!" (one girl said, "Oh my God, it's a mini-Boy Wonder!") and "Look who my mom brought with her to pick me up! This is my baby brother! Action Hero, come say hi to everyone!" Boy Wonder, though very accomplished and smart, is not always in a fine mood; he is four and often likes to see what happens when he casually says, "No," when instructed to get dressed for school, brush his teeth, or do anything that requires tearing himself away from toys or a cartoon. I suppose we must work on this now. There may be a sticker chart involved; stay tuned.

As for me (hey, it says "and their mom" up there too), I feel rather like a hamster running on a wheel. There are children, home, work, overtime, and school. There is a bathtub that won't drain, a basement that needs a good scrubbing, an attic that may need a mousetrap or two (at first I thought it was a squirrel, but reliable sources inform me that one or two mice can sound like the Charge of the Light Brigade if the house is quiet), and a backyard with a lot of melting snow that will hopefully not all trickle into the basement. There are closets that need reorganizing and household items to be obtained, and there are always, ALWAYS, dishes that need washing.* There is handsome overtime pay, but there are also clogged sinuses, homework that really needs doing, and a nap to be taken.

Did someone say nap? Excuse me.

*The management would like to announce that most of the dishes were clean this evening, courtesy of Dragon. Thanks, dear.

iFinally bought one

'Tis March, which means that 'tis the season for tax refunds. (Well, not for everyone, but as parents and homeowners, Dragon and I get a good-sized refund; thus, we get our taxes done ASAP and are now the proud recipients of two direct deposits from the federal government and the State of Wisconsin.) Much of the money has gone, or will go, to various practical applications. However, Dragon did suggest that I purchase a prize or two, entirely for myself, and after some consideration I decided that this was a good idea.

So I bought an iPod. Well, not really an iPod. Actually, not even an iPod nano. I didn't feel THAT much of a prize would be prudent. And really, those things hold like 1,000 songs, and as I've always been more book- than music-oriented, I don't know if I can even think of 1,000 songs. My small and shiny prize is the iPod shuffle, which holds about 240 songs and can be clipped nicely to a pocket, sleeve, or lapel. It comes in blue, silver, purple, and green, and has the added bonus of having recently dropped $30 in price, as it is about to be eclipsed by the newer model of shuffle, which can hold about 500 songs. It also comes in a shiny dark red, and I almost considered waiting for that one based strictly on color reasons. But the small and shiny blue shuffle was calling to me, so I purchased it and took it home.

And I like it very, very much, and have spent quite some time with it since purchasing it on Thursday night. I have put many songs from my CD library on it, and have even purchased a few from iTunes. I took it grocery shopping, and rather enjoyed doing the shopping in a pleasant haze of Moby and Muse. I wore it tonight while doing dishes and folding laundry. I have even taken it for daily walks.* Dragon is quite amused, but he is, after all, the one who told me to buy myself a prize, and he should be quite happy that I did not decide to take my "prize" money to the bookstore and buy another shelf's worth of books.

I am somewhat behind the techological times (the shuffle was introduced in 2005), but I am very happy with my small and shiny shuffle.

*Granted, that last goes above and beyond the instructions in the small and shiny user's manual, and is based entirely on my need to lose a few pounds. However, the iPod shuffle does make a fine exercise companion.