Sweet!

I see this picture and several questions come to mind:

1. Everyone is wearing jackets and long sleeves. Is this really a photo from a parade in August? (Answer: yes)
2. Considering these kids still have massive amounts of candy left from the July 4 parade, and their systems are still digesting breakfast, which consisted of a sugar-cereal trifecta (a mix of Cocoa Puffs, Trix and the Cub version of Lucky Charms), why on earth would I not only allow, but in fact enable them to gather more sugar treats? (Answer: I apparently hate myself.)
3. If they still haven't finished their candy stash by October, would it be tacky to hand out what's left at Halloween? (Answer: Don't say anything. I know.)

As small as it is, I love our town's parade. You can arrive at the last second, or even a few minutes late, and you'll always find a place to park and sit. And chances are, you'll see people you know both on the sidelines and in the parade. I didn't even have my chair set up before I heard an excited voice yell, "Hey, AJ!" So we sat with AJ's buddy Jace and family. It's so nice how my kids are helping me expand my circle of friends.

And AJ got to turn one of his favorite parts of last year's parade into a tradition: giving high-5s to the football players from the local community college.

Last year we battled rain. This year we battled cold. Surely next year's weather on parade day has to be nice. Doesn't it?

This is the life - II

A few weeks back I shared the ironies of how reality compares with youthful visions of what adult life would be like. I had another of those moments Friday morning.

Sydney wanted "Pay-doh", so I dragged out our monstrous bin of Playdoh, along with the buzzillion cutters, presses, molds and other fun tools that accumulate in a home where the mommy is as big of a fan of the squishy stuff as the kids.

The size of our collection, most of which is AJ's, really is a bit of overkill for Sydney at this age. She's happy to simply bang the containers on the table in hopes the Playdoh will drop out for her. To do anything else, she needs help.

And so I sat at the table with her, providing help when needed. During the brief and precious moments when she was happily occupied, I skimmed through my recently received Murphy Reporter (the alumni newsletter from the U of M's Journalism School). I read that Dr. Fang, my journalism advisor, just published another book. At age 80. I, meanwhile, am sitting at a kitchen table helping Sydney create a dolphin out of pink Playdoh.

I remember in Dr. Fang's office, he proudly displayed a photo of himself with one of the (now deceased) 60 Minutes guys, whom he had helped receive a diploma based on his impressive life experience. I don't think I've quite achieved that level of professional success that would earn me a spot on his wall of fame. Though I will forever credit him for making me a better writer.

"Mommy, I cwoc-dile!"

Back to reality. Sydney now needs help cutting out a pink crocodile.

Breakfast time rolled around soon afterward, so we pushed the Playdoh to the side as AJ joined us at the table for a meal that included hashbrowns (the shaped kind, similar to what you'd order at McDonalds. AJ gobbled his down, then asked for another.

"Can I have more hashbrowns?

"No, you don't need another one."

"But I still have ketchup left."

Definitely not what the 22-year-old me imagined the 39-year-old me would be doing. But I wouldn't want it any other way. And come to think of it, by the time I'm 80, my kids will be in their 40s. They probably won't need as much supervision at that point in their lives. So I just might have time to publish a book of my own.

Who's not tired?

For years we've been told that laughter is the best medicine. Turns out it's also a pretty good stall technique.

Thursday evening at bedtime, I told Sydney to go and crawl up on the couch while I finished typing something on the computer. Of course it took me longer than I'd expected to wrap things up, and so a few minutes later, Sydney came wandering in looking for me. With mock severity, I told her go and get back up on the couch. She squealed, and then turned around and ran.

Game on.

Less than a minute later she was back, daring me to chase her.

"Up on the couch!" I ordered, as she again turned with a giggle and ran from the room.

We did this two or three few more times. The expression on her face was so comical there was no way I could yell at her. Instead, I grabbed the camera, so that the next time she came bursting into the room, I was ready for her.

Ohhh... the giggles. I'm wishing I'd grabbed the video camera instead, just so I could have captured the sound.

There are very few stages of my children's lives that I miss once they've outgrown them. Probably because so far I've enjoyed each new stage and level of ability more than the previous one. But I know I'm going to miss the high-pitched laugh that accompanies the toddler stage. There's no faking it. It's the sound of sincerity and pure joy, and I do believe one of the most beautiful sounds our ears will ever here.

AJ no longer laughs like that. I'm vowing to savor every second of it with Sydney. I think she's figured that out.

The multi-generational joust

Come on Grandpa Bill. Why the surprised look? Surely you have to know that donning a silly plastic helmet at my house is pretty much a guarantee that you become blog fodder.

Grandpa and Grandma came over for dinner tonight. AJ was relatively quiet throughout the meal, until he casually informed us that he was planning a game that seemed to be a cross between jousting and pillow fighting .

Even better, AJ was able to convince his grandpa to play along. Boy... the things this kid can talk his grandpa into doing. First it was hockey in the drive way, and now jousting.

What's the goal here?

Not to stereotype my children based on gender, but Sydney is showing great cheerleader potential.

On Monday night, I'd taught her to say, "Go Esko!" That didn't work so well tonight because our opponent also was from Esko. That meant both teams were wearing the same t-shirts, so our kids wore red jerseys over their t-shirts to help avoid confusion. I tried to get Sydney to cheer, "Go Red!", but she wasn't changing loyalties. Throughout the game, I continued to hear her call out, "Go Esko!"

I think Sydney saw more action on the sideline than AJ saw on the field. She greeted the 2-year-old brother of one of our other players with a kiss. Her newest technique for flirting: charm the guy by admiring his pirate hat. A little later she set her sights on an even younger guy, announcing, "I go see Derek." (Hanna's 1-year-old brother) Though, it turns out she really wanted to visit Derek's mom, who had a bag of Cheese Nips.


AJ got a lot of playing time tonight. Unfortunately, it took three shifts before he figured out how to play. He seemed very hesitant to chase the ball if other kids were crowding around it. He instead would head to the goal in hopes the ball would come his way.

It was the "you need to help your team mates get the ball" explanation that finally got through to him. Suddenly he was all over the field, inserting himself in the middle of the action. And a funny thing happened. He started getting the ball and scoring. That's him in the red in the photo above, kicking his second goal of the night.

What a kid!

Doing time

For some reason, I'm exhausted by the time I get the kids to bed each night. I can't imagine why.

"What doing?"
"I'm looking for the remote. Did you pick out a bedtime story yet?"
"What doing?"
"Mommy's looking for the remote. Go get up on the couch."
"Oh. What doing Mommy?"
"I'm trying to find the remote."
By now, I'm pulling up couch cushions. The sound of separating velcro catches AJ's attention. He points to the coffee table. "Silly Mommy. It's right here."
"No. That's the remote for changing channels. I need the other one that adjusts the volume."
"What doing Mommy?"
Stuffing the cushions back into place, I answered her question with a question. "Do you suppose I might be... looking for the remote?"
Sydney grins, but again asks, "What doing?"
"What do you think Mommy's doing?"
Another grin. "Wa-mote."
"Right. Now go get back on the couch."
From across the room, I can hear the garage door opening. AJ jumps to his feet, "Daddy's home!"
"Daddy! Daddy!" Sydney squeals in delight.
Jeff walks into the living room after working a late shift.
"Hi Daddy. What doing?"

Sydney and AJ are now asleep. The remote remains missing. It's not that I mind having to walk over to the TV to adjust the volume. It's just that the TV is wedged so tightly into the entertainment center, that it's a blind process to try and squeeze a couple fingers in, and then it's a best guess to remember which button will quiet the shouting, versus which one will make the shouter suddenly turn green or purple.

And the timing is grossly unfair. After the hours I spent last weekend packing away toys that were cluttering the living room, there should be nowhere for that little sucker to hide.

Game on!

It was Esko versus Cloquet, in an intense game that was too close to call (because no one was keeping score.) Cloquet had the home field advantage and, seemingly, more 5-year-olds than we did, but that didn't dampen the enthusiasm of these kids to chase the ball pretty much anywhere it went. Even if it was 20+ feet out of bounds.

After a non-existent attention span at Sunday's practice, AJ did a pretty good job staying focused during his first game. And he scored three goals! Never mind that the first one came while the other team was in the midst of a line change. After all, no one was keeping score. The photo below was taken about two seconds before he scored his next goal.

AJ was so excited he stood in the goal and grinned, savoring the applause and the knowledge that he'd scored. Now, this is not to be confused with what he's doing in the next photo. Either he had supreme confidence in his teammates' ability to recover the ball, or else he was getting tired. Because as the rest of the team chased the ball down the field, AJ waited back by the goal in hopes someone would pass the ball back to him.

I could fib a little and pretend this game was the start of what will surely be an intense rivalry between these neighboring schools that will last until the day these kids graduate. But in reality, AJ was cheering for at least two of the players on the opposing team: Noah and Nate, his friends from Kids Korner.

I can say in all honesty that this season has marked the beginning of AJ's school pride. He loves to tell people he's an Eskomo. And during one of the breaks in the game, he gathered a couple of his friends to repeat the cheer the coach had them do at the beginning of the game. Standing in a circle they put their hands in the middle, then raised them in the air, shouting, "Goooooo Esko!"