Just like Mommy

"I'm sure this is how I saw Mommy do it. First you smear this stuff around your mouth..."

"And then you rub your lips together."

"I'm not sure why you do this, but if that's what Mommy does, then that's what I'm going to do."

Sydney certainly loves Chapstick. I finally gave in and let her have one of my tubes. Mostly because she had soaked it with so much slobber that I didn't really feel like touching it to my lips ever again.

And if you think that's cute, you should see the little copycat trying to lift her shirt in an attempt to apply deoderant. I don't have pictures of that yet, because I've been too busy trying to stop her from smearing the supposedly non-whitening formula all over her shirt.

It's easy to tell when my attempts are unsuccessful. Not only does she leave lovely white marks on her clothes, but she also emits a faint "fresh summer breeze" scent the rest of the day.

It's all a blur...

I'm too tired to blog today, and so am again falling back on that lovely rule in TV journalism: good pictures can salvage even the weakest of stories.

So consider the above photo to represent Sydney swinging in to save the day.

As someone who's taken photography classes in the past, it's cool to upload my photos into the computer and discover one like this in the mix. Admittedly, it'd be more impressive if I knew exactly what I had done to achieve this effect: Sydney, in motion, remains in focus, while the background is a blur. I think I was unintentionally moving the camera at the same pace she was swinging. It seems to me that was a technique I learned in a class long ago.

If that's not it, then I will have to fall back on TV journalism rule #2: It's better to be lucky than good.

August Halloween

Jeff's and my honeymoon in Hawaii took place during the third week in October. That meant we saw lots of spooky Halloween decorations hanging amidst the palm trees. I remember thinking how odd, and nice, it must be to trick-or-treat in a tropical setting.

Last night, the kids and I had a chance to find out.

Auntie Barbie's campground in Sturgeon Lake has a Halloween party every summer, and she invited us to join the fun. I'm thinking the above photo is the only one I'll ever take of my kids in costume in which you'll see green grass in the background. (Unless she invites us back next year, which she's already promised to do.)

The weather didn't completely cooperate. It rained quite a bit. But it was a warm rain, and let's be honest, there was candy involved so none of the kids seemed to mind. Sydney wasn't too thrilled with the rain drops at first, burying her head in my shoulder. But after about the second or third stop, she figured out the candy haul potential and was rarin' to go.

AJ, along with Barb's other nephew DJ, plus two kids from the neighboring camper, happily ran through the mud. Quite often I would hear one of them shout out to the others when they found a camper with lights on, "Hey! There's candy over here!"

The timing of this couldn't have been better. It was the perfect distraction from missing Daddy. And it came just one day after AJ got his new Transformer costume.

The only downside, if you don't count my mud splattered legs, was the ensuing sugar rush on a certain little fairy princess. Watching her repeatedly body slam herself against Barb's couch and then giggle hysterically should have been a clue that she'd had enough Tootsie Rolls. But I still went ahead and changed her diaper before we left the campground (a little before 9 p.m.) thinking she'd fall asleep for the night during the drive home.

Silly, overly hopeful me.

AJ, who has never been overly affected by sugar, fell asleep soon after we got home. But Tinkerbell was still running on pixie dust until almost 11 p.m. (I'm really not complaining too much about this fact, because right now it's 8:30 a.m. and they're both still asleep.)

By the way, I should mention that, when combined with what we got at parades this summer, we now have enough candy to last until Halloween 2010!

Super what?

Every so often, AJ's imagination leaves even me asking, "huh?"

Such was the case when he appeared at the breakfast table in his Superman pajamas, with an army helmet on his head and a pillow case on each arm.

He was being Batman, of course. That's what he told me. I understand the wings. And he probably didn't remember what pajamas he had on. (The pants of which were inside out, so the reverse view, complete with tag hanging out, is even more charming.) But I still don't get what the helmet has to do with anything. Oh well... he was happy.

A little later, after switching into knight mode, he requested an orange for breakfast. I thought that a little odd, but am always happy to oblige when he asks for something other than sugar cereal.

Interestingly, he asked me to not break all the pieces apart. And that's when I figured out what he was planning. Yes, he wanted to use his sword to cut the orange.

The countdown to Halloween has begun. With less than three months to go, AJ's costume wishlist is growing longer by the day. And some days by the minute.

During a car ride yesterday, AJ announced he wants to be "a flying dinosaur. A robot one. A green flying robot dinosaur."

Thankfully, before I had a chance to fully think about how a needle and thread-challenged person such as myself could possibly create a costume like that, he changed his mind again.

"Or a knight. I think I want to be a knight."

An hour later, as we were touring the toy section at Target, AJ transformed his mind again after spotting an Optimus Prime costume. And it was only $9.99. Bonus! I'm not kidding myself into thinking there's any chance the Transformer costume will still be in trick-or-treat condition come Halloween night. But for a little boy who's missing his Daddy very much, I think $9.99 is a small price to pay for a fun distraction.

Race ya!

I wasn't brave enough to take AJ to the kids race in Esko last weekend. It's a full lap around the track, and last year he needed Jeff to run it with him. There's no way I could have done that with Sydney in tow.

So when a friend suggested that our play date group go to the Wednesday Night at the Races this week, I thought great idea!

Yeah. Let's just file this one under the category of "what were we thinking?"

Hundreds of kids. Just as many parents. It was a zoo. For most kids in AJ's group, (boys, age 4 and under) a parent ran right along with them. But with Sydney, that wasn't possible. Thankfully, our friend Paula and her son Cameron were running, too, so AJ lined up with them.

And then they were off. Did I mention the race is an eighth mile long? I thought it'd be a short dash similar to the Whipper Snapper Races, which is put on by the same organization. No. This race had the kids weaving through a park to a finish line way on the other side.

So as soon as the crush of runners passed, Sydney and I started a dash of our own, catching up to him shortly after he crossed the finish line. Apparently he did quite well. My friend Michelle figures he finished about sixth. Of course all the kids get a ribbon at this age.


Talking with my friends afterward, we've decided we are willing to try this again. We'll just know better than to call it a play date. Because when you have to keep an eye on kids with that many people around, there's just no chance for adult conversation.

Long distance bedtime story

So what could possibly be on the computer screen that these two find so interesting?

It's a video showing Daddy reading the book that AJ is holding in his lap.

Both kids LOVE the Sesame Street classic There's a Monster at the end of this Book. So much so, that on a recent evening, Sydney picked it as a bedtime story. Then, when it was AJ's turn to pick, he chose to have us read it again. How wonderful is that?!?

A few days before Jeff left for Ripley, big surprise here, the kids chose "the Grover book" at bedtime. Jeff gets quite animated as he attempts to imitate the lovable, furry ol' guy; so I videotaped him with the kids as he was reading it.

Last night, big surprise here, the kids wanted the story again, so I set them up in front of the computer and started the video. AJ knows the book so well that he had no problem turning the pages at the appropriate time. Sydney, meanwhile, just kept pointing at the screen, alternating her squeals between, "Daddy!" and "That's Sydney Bean."

I've heard of military wives using this storytelling technique as a way to keep kids connected to Dad during deployments. And let me just say, I am again reminded of the incredible strength of these women to keep their families going during such lengthy separations. We're just on day six of Jeff being gone, and I've already had to deal with tears from AJ twice, along with comments that bring tears to my eyes like, "I don't want to talk to him on the phone. I just want to give him a hug."

For his part, Jeff's been doing a great job finding time to call home daily. Last night, he lined up a group of soldiers in the background who shouted on cue, "Good night AJ!" (Had I been thinking, I'd have coached AJ to respond, "Hoo-ah!")

One last note about the videotaped story. There's a particular bonus in this technique for me, as well. After five straight nights of reading this blessed book in my best Grover voice, it was nice to get a break and let Daddy take a turn.

He's got it!

Three games into the season, and the best way to sum up AJ's performance is to simply say, "Wow!"

Of course I think he's doing a great job and is trying so hard and is showing remarkable improvement. I'd be a pretty sad excuse for a mom to not think that. But maternal biases aside, let me just say, "Wow!"

AJ has figured out what it means to go after the ball and to stay with the ball. He doesn't just kick it, he then runs after it. And if another player intercepts it, he goes after it some more. The first time he came off the field tonight, I gave him a high-5 and told him that was the best he'd ever played. The smile on his face was just about the sweetest I've ever seen. And he followed that up by giving me an equally sincere hug. It sure is fun being a soccer mom!

I'm savoring every moment that he's not embarassed by my praise. I did my best to cheer for all the kids. And clearly my voice is loud enough that they hear me. When it was AJ's buddy Gino's turn to play, Gino ran halfway out onto the field, then turned around and ran to me and requested, "Will you say 'Go Gino!' ?" Of course I would, and did.

Did I mention all this happened during an extremely lopsided game that could better be described as a rout? That made AJ's enthusiasm all the more impressive. Nobody keeps score at this level (thank goodness), but if I had to guess, I'd say the final count was somewhere in the ballpark of Cloquet: 92, Esko: 6.

And AJ scored half our team's points.

We suspected we were in for a rough game as the kids lined up for the first kick. We could hear the opposing coach direct, "Natalie, you play defense."

Defense? Their kids know what defense means?

It would have been ugly, except mercifully at this stage, our kids are too innocent to realize they were the victims of a blowout at the hands (or feet) of a group of 5-year-olds. And AJ was having fun. So much fun that when his teammates on the other line got tired, hot, bored or whatever other reason they gave for needing to rest, AJ stood on the sidelines and waved to his coach that he would take their place. Coach Rod looked to me to make sure it was okay for AJ to play so much. I knew he was drinking plenty of water so I said sure. Rod smiled and said, "he's got enough energy for all of them."

When Jeff called from Ripley to say goodnight, AJ's version of the game went something like this, "I scored four goals," (slight exaggeration) "and Mommy said, 'Go AJ!' and I knocked a girl down, and then I tackled Gino."

It's nice to know which parts stood out as highlights for him.