My baby girl turns 6

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Maria Grace turned 6 yesterday at 2:41 pm.  I still remember her birth like it happened this afternoon. I remember how nervous but excited I was to have her through natural childbirth, aka, no drugs.  Mom had me that way, Meg had Jackson that way.  I wanted to follow in their giant footsteps.  Actually, the thought of getting a needle as long as a pencil shot into my back and losing all sensation from the waist down terrified me 10 times as much as the thought of foregoing drugs.  

I got pretty cocky in the delivery room for a while after they broke my water.  The contractions were uncomfortable but tolerable.  I remember looking at my mom and Jon and bragging “this isn’t too bad.”  And within minutes after that brash declaration, the universe shifted in ways only a momma in childbirth can understand.  Excruciating pain.  Sharp wrenching cramps.  Uncontrollable urges to bear down with nurses chanting “do not push yet.” I kept thinking to myself “if I have to tolerate this for 30 minutes, I will die.”  Luckily, within fifteen minutes, the nurses told me I could lay down and start pushing.  I can only liken this to having a huge dresser laid on your pubic area; having someone remove it for a few seconds; and then throw it back on with a few more clothes and knick knacks in it.  I was relieved after hearing the nurses tell me to start pushing but only for a few seconds until I realized that the actual pushing was just as painful as the restraint from pushing.  And then to look up in the mirror on the ceiling and see that there really was a tiny human that was poking her “little” head out of my body.  Holy cr–! 

“Little” being the extremely relative word in this instance.  “Little” is what the head was an hour after birth when I had been stitched up and regained some of my senses.  “Little” is not what the head was when it was trying to poke through my body and see the outside world.  It was HUGE and OBNOXIOUS and CAUSING IMMENSE PAIN!  But the body is an amazing thing because as much as I hurt and wanted to stop pushing, I also pulsated with joy and anxiety in meeting my daughter who I had nourished and cared for the last nine months in her safe cocoon.  When I saw her head crowning, that joy drove me to push harder and harder until I heard the shrills of excitement from the bystanders announcing that a baby was on its way out! 

Maria, Alana and Mario rockin' it out on Ri's b-day!

 

And then she was bundled up in that hospital blanket and placed in my arms.  Jon stood by me looking down at us.  There she was with her dark eyes and her black hair and warm skin.  A little Maria Grace ready to dominate the world.  And 6 years later she is well on her way.  

Her style can be commanding “Uncle Jack, come stand HERE!”, or gentle “It’s ok, Baby Gracie, I got you.”  Her attitude can be sassy “Ok, dad, I get it – you don’t have to repeat it.” or sweet “Mom, you are the best mommy ever!”  

Maria makes her presence known wherever she travels through that loud booming voice of hers.  She has the Heile/Menkedick vocal chords.  Her favorite pastime is yelling just like she used to do as a baby in her crib every two hours of every night.  How Jon and I survived the first 15 months is beyond me (yes, 15 months before she slept through the night – we really need to be sainted).   Maria loves to take care of younger kids – the mother hen is alive and well in her.  No matter if it’s Gracie or Lucy or Maggie or Maura, she sits with them and shows them books or toys, she holds their hand when they try to walk across the room, she makes funny faces at them and makes them laugh, she pats their backs when they start to whimper.  She is a natural. 

Maria and her family

Maria and her family

Maria also loves to be around family.  She adores her grandparents who all bring something special to her life; she worships her uncles who even break down and play barbies with her; she frolics with all of her aunts and cousins who treat her like one of them and let her join in all of the festivities.  She especially loves her little brother who can be a pain in the butt at times between hitting her, pinching her, pulling her hair, waking her up, and sitting on her.  Nonetheless, she is always ready to squeeze and hug him when he allows, and she will protect him at all costs (we can never forget when Mario and her were in the bounce house and a boy tried to push Mario – Maria stepped in and pushed him back warning “Don’t hurt my brother!”).  She received the nickname “The Muscle” in daycare and  the name lives on as she gets older.  Her hugs can be lethal but always well-intentioned.

Trying out her new bike

She is observant like her daddy recognizing people’s goofy mannerisms or certain things in books or places that I would never have noticed.  She is wild like her momma running around and being loud whether it is at parties or at the house.  She likes to live life large.  She loves food and drink.  She is always ready for a loaf of garlic bread and pasta and meatballs, and could go without anything else if she had that plate at her side 24 hours a day.  Maria loves to help cook (which is a fascinating phenomena since her mama embarrassingly rarely cooks).  When we make pancakes or cookies or macaroni, she wants to read the box and add the ingredients and stir the food.  She looks forward to setting the table and having all of us eat together.  However, she is less fond of making a lot of conversation at the dinner table.  She is like her dad – there to eat and not to chat. She enjoys pretty dresses and beaded sandals but is still not hesitant to put her knees on the ground and dig for worms.  She loves to put on make-up but detests brushing her hair and wails at the thought of anyone else brushing it.  

Maria celebrating her b-day at school

She still climbs into bed at 6 am and snuggles her body up against mine; many times she lifts her head and places my arm under it (I always hated sleeping this way with boyfriends but with my daughter it is a joy!).  She adores her daddy and goes through serious withdraw when he leaves town for more than a couple of days.  He stands up for him when he is getting grief from me or another family member but quickly turns on him when Grandma Ionno is around demanding that she “take care of Dad because she is the boss and he is her son!”  She loves her mama as much as she loves her daddy but as it tends to be with mothers and daughters, it is much more emotional in nature.  She either thinks I am the greatest thing to hit this Earth or the most evil person to walk into her life.  I can only imagine how much more pronounced this will be as she gets older – teenage years are thankfully seven years away.

Ri giving me the bear hug

Maria exudes a spirit that few kids her age possess.  She is free and spontaneous and relaxed and aware and empathetic and magical.  I think she is the coolest girl on the planet, and I want to give her mondo kisses and lovin’ every time I lay eyes on her.  Luckily, I can still get away with doing that; I am certainly going to live it up while I am able.

Continuing the Madness…

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Easter morning

We stuffed ourselves on Saturday.  Absolutely stuffed between the corn casserole, the brownies, the potato salad.  So, what else is there to do but continue the gluttony on Easter Sunday?  The kids woke up in a bit of a stupor from our long day on Saturday but within about eight minutes, the day hit them. 

“Is it Easter?  Did the Easter Bunny come here? Are there eggs downstairs?”

It had rained all night so the back yard was soaked.  Jon kept the kids in bed while I ran downstairs to hide the eggs and put out their baskets.  I had done the baskets Friday night knowing that I would be exhausted Saturday night.  As I was placing the last few eggs on the bookcase and piano, the kids started shuffling downstairs asking if they could begin the hunt.  They found their baskets in the corner of the dining room – Maria screamed when she saw Justin Bieber stickers and Mario jumped around the room when he discovered mini transformers.  Maria moved onto the “hidden” eggs (not so hidden when you are talking about three rooms downstairs with very little furniture) and found all of her eggs within two minutes.  Mario took his time on the eggs front because those new transformers were way too enticing.  

After the hunt came the best part – opening each egg to eat up the contents.  I had packed Maria’s eggs full of skittles, gumballs and NERDS (she enjoys those sweet candies like her Aunt Sarah).  I packed Mario all chocolate – M&M’s, snickers, and reese’s (he is his mother’s child).  Everytime Mario looked away, I snatched another chocolate.   

Jon’s parents and brothers came over at 11 am and we headed to brunch at Bravo’s restaurant.  The kids hung on their  cousin Peter, the entire time.  They were fascinated with him (age 16) just like they are with their Heile boy cousins(age 16 and 17).  Luckily, Peter is about as low-key as the Heile boys so he allowed them to climb on him, lead him through our house, and show him their toys.  When we returned home, Mario begged to play Peter in a game of b-ball on Wii.  While they played, the gals (Maria, Patty, Debbie and me) walked to Giant Eagle to grab a bag of ice.  We talked about Jon’s dad, about moving to Columbus, about kids.  It was nice to break away and have that alone time together.  Maria did a good job walking with us and listening to us talk – she is getting more mature in that arena lately.  She used to butt in every two seconds in the past but now she enjoys listening and adding in her two cents when she sees fit. 

When we got home from the store, Mario had moved the men to the outside to play “live” basketball. He showed us his dunks while Maria came out and showed us her new sandals.  I had taken her there to get me a pair of gym shoes.  When we walked in, however, Maria immediately dragged me over to the high heels section.  She selected about three different heels that were over an inch high and that I have only seen in the movies on prostitutes.  She loved them.  To her despair, I moved directly to the gym shoe area.  I led her to the girls’ shoes and soon she returned with a pair of black heels on her feet.  They almost fit her perfectly, and she begged to purchase them (I am so hoping that this a phase that ends by the time she is 7).  She chose about 4 other shoes before she came out with the turquoise sandals, which we finally agreed upon. 

After chowing down on Patty’s awesome chocolate chip cookies and turtles, we hit the road for the Heile soiree, aka the Madhouse.  Poor Jon is still not used to the ruckus that inevitably occurs when us Heile women get together but he continues to hang in there be the good sport that he is (typically sitting off in the corner with my uncle to talk about hunting).  My darlin’ girl cousins love on Maria and Mario picking them up, squeezing them, kissing them and giving them raspberries all over those round bellies – just like the treatment I received from my aunts when I was little.  Maria relishes in the time that she gets with her second cousins (who we call aunts just because second cousins seems way too distant).  They include her in anything they do which included this holiday sitting on the back of my uncle’s truck listening to music and chatting about boys, clothes, friends, and shoes – right up Maria’s alley.  Mario has made the conscious choice to turn his attention to the boy cousins because they spend their time playing basketball.  He hangs in there with ’em trying to make a shot even if the net is ten times his size.  One day he will show them all up. 

We chowed down on more ham, more potato salad, more deviled eggs, and a new twist – baked beans (a Heile tradition)!  Dairy Queen ice cream cake for dessert, too.  Pure heaven.  We had our traditional easter egg hunt that used to be at least 9 kids strong but that was before all of the cousins grew up and turned into 20 somethings.  Now we only have four kids participating – Maria and Mario, Baby Grace, and Konner.  Everyone wants to get the $5.o0 egg each year, and although all the kids get the same amount of eggs each year, it is still a race to get your number the quickest.  Maria got all nine of hers and Mario only had 8.  Konner had 7 and Grace was finished.  Everyone was helping Konner and Mario find the remaining eggs.  One of the cousins found one and called for Mario to race over.  Konner started heading that way, and Maria tackled him to the ground in order to help her baby brother (the reason she gives at least).  When it comes to eggs, they go to no lengths to help each other.  Baby Grace ended up with the $5.00 egg for a second year in a row much to Maria’s disappointment.  Maria had a major breakdown last year when Grace got the egg; this year we had a talk about how to act if Grace won (be graceful and grateful that she won because she is a baby and needs diapers!) and indeed, she took the $5.00 “loss” like a champ. 

The rain started to grow heavy after the hunt, and the party moved indoors except for Mario and the boys who continued to shoot in the steady downpour.  Mario walked in the house fifteen minutes later sopping wet and completely uncomfortable.  “Mom, take off my shoes and my clothes.  I am all wet and need to be dry.”  He could not stand being wet, and refused to put his shoes back on throughout the night.  He did enjoy running around the living room in only his undies.  Maria again used her tackling skills to get him under control and move him back into the bedroom to get dressed. 

We left the Heile house with cousin Maggie in the car (hitchhiking a ride back to Columbus) and Madagascar on the movie screen.  Maria lasted about 30 minutes before crashing.  Mario and Maggie hung in throughout the trip home.  We unloaded all of the easter treats in the house and I spent 20 minutes picking through easter candies to eat promising myself that the candy remaining on Monday morning would be given away at work.  Of course, I sit here tonight eating a reese cup and a chocolate bunny swearing that I will get rid of the candy tomorrow.  Yeah….

Family, Ham and Chocolate

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Mario’s game face
M & M getting ready for the hunt!

I love Easter.  It is my favorite holiday for two reasons: (1) I adore chocolate and there is a ton of it between the easter egg hunts, the grandparents, and me splurging on it “for the kids’ baskets;” and (2) people seem to be more relaxed on Easter – less frantic about presents, meals, attire.  Easter comes right at the time of a new season – winter cold is gone and grass is turning green.  People are excited about being outside again. 

We celebrated Easter today out at the farm.  The forecast called for rain all weekend with strong thunderstorms at times.  When we woke up this morning, the sky was grey and dreary but had promise to it.  Patches of yellow and blue broke through in the sky, and I had a feeling during my morning run that we would be spared.  I was right.  The Grandview Easter Egg Hunt began at 10 am with soggy grass underfoot but no rain showers.  Maria’s nightmare came true when she heard that 5-7 year olds were grouped together (“I will never get as many eggs as 7 years olds).  However, she perked back up when she met up with her friend Anna and her grandma.  I stood with Mario in the 2-4 year old group coaching him about how to engage in the hunt (“pick up the eggs first – not the bags of oreos and cookies”).  He put his game face on after my speech, and anxiously awaited for the announcer to yell “GO!”  What comes over me and other parents at these easter egg hunts?  We are so competitive following our kids around the area pointing frantically at eggs that we see.  When the kid is looking in the opposite direction, we yell “Mario, look!  Mario!  Mario, over here!  Mario!!!”  Mario ended up with more eggs than Maria, which led to Maria frowning and complaining that she did not get “any” eggs even though she had three in her basket.  Her friend gave her two of her eggs, which led to 180 degree change in Maria who smiled from ear to ear.  the kids sat down to open their eggs, and Mario promptly gave me the first chocolate candy piece he opened.  What a doll.  I had told him how much I loved easter chocolate and he had told me that he would share his with me.  However, I was not going to believe it until I saw it.  And there it was.  He does love his mama!  Maria, on the other hand, gave me a stern look when I grabbed a chocolate chip cookie from her basket.  “Mom, this is my food.”  She is so generous when it comes to other things but not her food!

We rushed home after the hunt and hopped in the car to the farm.  Within five minutes of walking in the door, Maria and Mario and their cousins found the baby chicks.  Tiny and precious and so delicate.  Just what three and five-year olds need to handle.  But Grandma Meg managed to let all of the kids hold them without incident.  Mario chanted “Calm, calm” to the chick while he held it.  Maria acted like she was a vet while she held one asking me what was wrong with my baby chick.  They were infatuated at first sight.  Maria and Anneliese, her 8 year old cousin, played beautifully together.  Surprisingly, Mario and his three-year old cousin, Ben, also played together for the first time ever.  In the past, they were into their own things (and still at that young age where you don’t play much with other kids) but this time they were by each others’ sides for most of the day.  Ben would yell for Mario and Mario would run to him.  Mario would ask Ben to get something for him and Ben would get it.  They threw stones in the stream for 30 minutes and talked about being in the army while they rode the rocking horses.  They used croquet clubs as hammers and swords.  Boys.  Maria and Anneliese held the chicks a lot and walked Rosie and played in the stream.  Tomgirls – yeah! 

We ate yummy ham and potato salad and deviled eggs and corn casserole and butter rolls.  Patty’s potato salad won everyone over with people going up for thirds!  I swear I am going to enter her p. salad into a contest – it will undoubtedly take first place.  Desserts made my stomach larger just looking at them – brownies, cookies, shortcake, chocolate cake, lemon bars in addition to all of the Easter candy!  Oh, how I love this holiday! But, oh, how I wish I had some sort of will power.  I get on Maria about eating too much but then I stand around the table eating 3 brownies, cake, candy and cookies.  I blame those Menkedick genes that cannot resist chocolate (unless you are supernatural like my father).  My 91 year-old grandmother devoured the desserts just like me so I think I am doomed.  

The kids got to ride the horses towards the end of the day and then got treated to a stellar easter egg hunt.  There is part of me that still wants to participate in those hunts – I see an egg hiding in the fence post and I get so excited.  I was a damn good egg finder back in my day….  We finished up the afternoon holding the chicks some more and chatting with family that we don’t see as often as we would like.  Maria would love to have Anneliese closer and Mario and Ben would have a blast together now that they are the ripe old age of three.  Grandma M. is strong as ever, carrying on conversation and watching the kids play.  I wish I lived closer to her so we could see her more often even though she even states that having M&M over any more often would seriously wear her out.  She has got to be kidding – my kids are little angels…! 

In sum, a great start to a holiday weekend.  The farm is a gem, and Meg did an awesome job hosting us all.  Dad did an awesome job entertaining the kids (even though he allowed Mario to fall in the stream!).  And the rest of us just soaked in the beauty of a wet Spring day.

Mario’s great concerns – clothes and hair!

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Mario and his stylish hair and outfit.

Mario loves to weigh himself.  Nearly every night he scoots out the scale and steps on it waiting for Jon or I to call out his weight. 

“Thirty three point 6 pounds, Mario.” 

“Am I bigger than Maria yet, mom?” 

“Almost, Mario, almost.”  Maria glances over at me from her perch in the other room and rolls her eyes at me – she knows I say this to him because he does not want to hear the “no.”  He loves to run around without his shirt flexing his “muscles” – he has such a small frame that even a tiny thread of muscle bulges out because of the lack of fat on the boy.  I have never met a boy who is so worried about his appearance.  Every morning he continues to fret about the length of his pants, the tightness of his shirts, the length of his socks.  He wears the same three shirts and same three pairs of sweats throughout the week.  Every once in a while I can get him to wear a pair of jeans or a pair of overalls because I can remind him that Peter Parker wore them in one of the shows we watched but it only lasts a day and then he is back to his sweats and three shirts.  He likes the sweats because the elastic fits his waist perfectly.  Jeans are too big around his waist and belts don’t fit right because he hates how the strap hangs down from the loop, if only a little bit.  

Mario is also fanatic about his hair (like his daddy).  For months, he refused to allow anyone to “mess” with his hair.  It had to be smoothed down on his head at all times, and if anyone tousled it, he would let you know how he felt.  A few days ago, he was playing Wii (his favorite indoor activity), and he decided that he wanted a different “guy” on Wii.  I had not known that you could change your character on Wii – you can set his eyes, his hair, his mouth, and even his nose.  He created a guy who could be described as nothing other than a mad Chinese lunatic with spiked hair.  He thought he was the coolest lookin’ guy ever.  This morning, he woke up and we played around upstairs.  He loves to wrestle as soon as he gets up and every once in a while I have the energy to do it at 6:45 am.  Today was one of those days and he was charged up.  I finally wore him out and he agreed to get dressed.  As he was getting dressed, he asked if I could spike his hair like the guy on the Wii game.  I about fell over on the floor.  I grabbed some gel and the hair dryer and we went to town.  He loved his new “do” and exclaimed “Mom, I look so cool!”  When we got downstairs, he stopped in the middle of the kitchen and shouted “Mom, I need sunglasses with this hair!”  

We got him the sunglasses and strolled out the door lookin’ like Hollywood movie stars (well, at least one of us…).  After I put him in his car seat, he touched the top of his head.  “Is my hair standing up still” he asked.  I replied that not only was it standing up but it looked fantastically cool.  He flashed a long, proud smile at me.  When we walked in to school, he held his head up in case people could not see him.  Teachers made comments about how awesome he looked, and he simply walked by them with a coy grin plastered on his face.  When we made it down the hall to his room, he turned back to me and confessed “I am getting big mom, I have spiked hair.”  I agreed with him but gave my usual response: “You are getting big and I won’t let you turn 4!”  He gave me his typical response: “Even when I am 4, you can still call me your baby.”  With that, I scooped him up in my arms and walked him into his classroom.

Out on the town with Ri

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My girl

I rushed home tonight to get ready for a fund-raising event on behalf of the New Directions Career Center, a local non-profit agency that helps individuals get back on their feet and pursue careers.  I decided to bring Maria with me for two reasons: none of my girlfriends were available and I continue to try to open Maria’s eyes up to giving back to the community.  When I opened the back door to the house, Maria came running into the kitchen commanding me to get upstairs and get ready!  She wore a plaid dress with two beaded necklaces, multi-colored flower leggings, a purple ring, and silver sandals.  Her hair was loosely tied back in a ponytail with a black headband.  My hippy girl. 

However, as much as she dresses herself in flowy, hippy, non-traditional clothes, she does not enjoy the same for me.  She wanted to pick out my clothes for me, and since we were going to a fund-raiser where I would not know too many people, I thought “what the heck.”  She chose a short orange dress with leaf prints on it that I had bought for Cancun with Jon and a pair of black open-toed heels.  I felt ridiculous.  I am just not meant to wear such clothes.  My body yearns for a pair of sweats and a T.  But I did it for Maria because she loves getting dressed up and this was her night with her mama.  On our way to the car, Maria yelled to the father two houses down “Andy, do you know where we are going?” He asked where and she replied matter-of-factly “to the bar.”  What a nut.

We got to the event, and she held my little red purse as she strolled into the event like she was one of the guests of honor.  We ate a White Castle hamburger (she hated it; I devoured it) and then moved onto the buffet bar.  She needed to get her tummy full before we moved to the silent auction.  She grabbed a large plate and a small (asking me to hold onto the small one until she was ready for it).  Christmas came early for her this year because low and behold on the buffet bar was meatballs!  I was 99% sure there would not be such creatures at this event but had not told her this for fear she would have declined my invite.  She poured four meatballs and sauce on her large plate.  Next came a ladle of ranch dip with two broccoli heads and 5 crackers (dipping crackers in ranch – to die for!).  I made her get some fruit, and she obediently grabbed a grape and a small piece of pineapple in the shape of a football on a stick.  We sat and ate and people-watched. 

Maria caught with more ranch dip and veggies

After our meal, we began our way around the rooms to look at the silent auction items.  Maria found a cupcake gift box with cupcake mix, aprons, a cookbook, sprinkles, cupcake stuffed animal, and cupcake holders.  She wanted to buy it.  I explained the bidding process and told her that the gift retailed at $100 and the last bid was $40.  She wanted to put down $120.  Oh, does she remind me of Jon more and more.  Her reasoning was the same as Jon’s too: “I want this gift and I will pay what I need to pay to get it.”  She innately understood that if she put $45  she would probably not have a chance.  An antique shopper in the works.  When I told her she could go to $60, she shook her head and mumbled under her breath, “we won’t get this one.”  She loved the thrill of putting the money number down on the sheet.  Every time I told her the price we’d offer, she put a higher number.  The girl likes to spend.  By the end, we bid on eight items, three of which I think we have a strong chance of winning (we ended up returning to the cupcake gift and putting down $120 since it had gone to $100). Hey, it goes to a great cause. 

We stopped for one last round of veggies and crackers and dip and headed out as they were doing a live auction for a trip to South Africa.  Oh, what I would have given to bid on that trip.  I should have just gone for it (Maria raised her hands numerous times, and thank goodness the auctioneer could not see them (even though I should have just let her overpower my risk-averseness )).   As we walked back to the car, a director we had seen in the beginning of the night asked Maria if she wanted to volunteer for the organization, like become a guest speaker.  Maria nodded her head “no.”  She stated “I have a play date tomorrow so I can’t.”  The director laughed and got in her car.  I asked Maria if she would volunteer when she did not have a play date.  “Mom, I will do it when I am 20,” she replied.  I retorted “you will volunteer a lot earlier than that, Ms. Thing.”  She threw the “Oh, mom, whatever” look at me to which I promptly turned around and tickled her until she begged me to stop.  

As we drove home, Maria asked when we would “win” our prizes from the event and I explained that they would have to review the sheets to see who had the highest bid. Maria immediately warned me “We better have bid high enough for those cupcakes, mom….” 

 

 

 

Peace and quiet by adding more kids to the house?

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Jon and I stood at the kitchen island on Friday night with those looks of dread that come over our faces when we know we have an entire weekend with the kids with nothing planned.  How sad, I know.  I am used to running down to Cincy or heading up to Marion or Dover or trucking it out to the farm.  But strapping into the car seats every weekend has to tire the kids out and it also takes a chunk of change out of my wallet with the price of gas these days.  What happened to the $1.49 gas prices from my childhood (or was it $1.99? Whatever it was, it was a world of difference compared to today.).  What is worse is that the weathermen had predicted rain for all of Saturday.  One of my worst nightmares is not being able to go outside all day. 

The threesome at the pool

Luckily, we had sporadic showers on Saturday but a decent amount of sun and almost a full day of sun today.  Saturday, Dad and Mario went on “boy errands” which ironically consisted of dropping clothes off at the dry cleaner.  This activity was tempered by a trip to Home Depot.  Maria and I stayed put around the house reading her school books and playing the ice cream game and Fancy Nancy Go Fish card game.  We ate popsicles.  When the boys arrived home, I bargained with Jon – if he let me go to Stauf’s for a couple of hours, I would take the kids to the indoor pool.  Deal. 

Every time I take the kids to the pool, I develop a huge headache from the pull of Maria and Mario throughout our entire time we are at the facility.  Mario wants me to watch him “swim” and go down the slide; Maria wants me to play beauty shop or hold her and go under the “waterfall.”  So, I had the bright idea this time around to invite a friend for Maria.  Genius – no headache and lots of fun for Maria.  We brought Maria’s friend, Anna, another boisterous and daring girl like Ri.  Mario likes Anna, too.  He always has something to tell her (“Anna, do you want to see my power ranger…” “Anna, I like your bathing suit…”). 

Maria and Anna playing catch (with Maria "catching" Anna the first round!

Maria and Anna played the entire two hours together – I was only needed to take them to the lazy river and the whirlpool, which I did twice until Mario turned blue from the cold water in that area.  He rightly refused to go back a third time.  Mario enjoyed Anna’s presence, too, because I got almost all of his attention (he just wanted to me to fight the fountains with him by using my hands as swords and cutting through the shooting water – I am convinced he can take any object and find a way to fight it). 

Mario and his fountain

Maria and Anna went over to their friend’s house, Zach, after swimming.  Zach’s mom (who I adore!) made them tacos and they played hide-n-seek.  Maria came home at 8 pm zonked.  Beautiful.  Anna came over again today and the girls played at the park and up in Maria’s room with her barbies for two hours.  Peace and quiet for Jon and I to finish seeding the lawn (Mario played an hour of Wii basketball). 

Maria has always wanted me to do everything with her.  If I have to run errands, she wants to come.  If I want to take a run, she wants to come.  If I am going out with friends, she wants to be there.  So this very recent phenomena of playing with friends and not being attached to my hip is strange yet oh, so wonderful.  She needs her distance from me, and it has been challenging for me to nudge her away because I feel like I should be with her every waking moment since I work 40 hours a week.  These friendships allow her to see life without me by her side assisting her, and allow her to learn that she can do things on her own and with friends.  It also pushes me to work harder to distance myself from her to allow her to learn and grow.  One regret I have as a parent is that I did (and still do) too much for the kids.  It doesn’t keep me up at night – in the end I know they will be fine and they will know that I love them to infinity and back – but it is something that I would re-think if I did it all again.  They now rely on me for everything (“Mom, will you get me some water…” “Mom, will you find me a shirt to wear?” Mom, will you sleep near me until I go to sleep….”).  And as many times as I try to not do these things, I always end up doing them.  It is a hard habit to break.  So, I am grateful to Maria’s little friends for helping to push her towards more freedom from her momma. 

My girl playing in the sand

That being said, I pray to a higher power that Maria does not cease looking to her momma for love and support and hugs and kisses.  I can’t imagine the day that she looks at me as I lean over to kiss her and snaps “Mom, please stop!”  Those kisses and hugs bring way too much joy to my life to end them already.  There are some days that I long to get home just to squeeze her and Mario in my arms and plant 100 kisses all over their soft baby skin.  The moral of the story is that sometimes adding to the clan can be better – adding Anna this weekend allowed me more time to myself and more time with Mario.  Of course, Mario only wants me around to have a basketball opponent.  I am sure in a couple of years, he will have his boy friends over just like Maria has her girlfriends over, and then I will be staring at the walls as I sit in my dining room wondering what the heck to do with all of the time.  Ahh, I am sure I will figure out something even if it is simply staring at the walls as I sit in my dining room….

Seriously, non-fat??

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Chowing on yogurt

Grandview got a new addition to the neighborhood – a frozen yogurt shoppe called Orange Leaf.  The sign had been placed in the store window for months before it opened and Maria and I continuously eyeballed it every time we walked past to go to Giant Eagle.  After months or anticipation, the shoppe opened without much fanfare on a weekday night.  The walls are a bright lime and the seats and tables are white and orange.  They have a pinball machine that is free.  Mario’s favorite.  They have over ten different flavors to choose from but why anyone would get anything other than Brownie Batter and Peanut Butter is beyond me.  I am still appalled that my own daughter gets vanilla out of all the flavors to choose from!  And, all of the yogurt is either non-fat or low-fat. 

Marios yogurt dish

What else can that remind you of but the Seinfeld episode from back in the early 90’s where Elaine and Jerry fall in love with frozen non-fat yogurt until they notice that they are gaining weight.  They test the content of the yogurt after Elaine’s boyfriend notices that she is gaining weight, and discover that it has loads of fat in it.  This has got to be the case with the yogurt at Orange Leaf – it is just too good.  Or maybe the fat enters the picture when you dump a pound of Butterfinger and crushed Snickers into your yogurt dish.  Just maybe….  

Our favorites: Maria gets vanilla wafers and graham crackers on her vanilla yogurt; I get M&M’s, butterfinger, oreos and/or snickers; and Mario gets plain chocolate yogurt with no toppings.  All I can say is that this Orange Leaf shoppe is going to be very dangerous this Summer.  It is only a few blocks from our house.  The only deterrent is that it can be costly.  Maria inevitably puts a load of yogurt in her cup (the other down side is they only have one 16 ounce size which is huge for a five-year old kid), and, I can’t help but load mine up because I always seem to go there after a hectic day (which is more or less everyday!). 

The gals being silly

It has already become the “after school” place for kids to go.  When we visited yesterday with Alana (I picked the girls up from school and left work early), there were 20 middle school kids in the shoppe spending their parents’ moolah on gummy bears, coconut yogurt, sprinkles and skittles.  The owner had a big ol’ grin on his face thinking about this profitable trend.  I can just picture Maria in that shoppe after middle school making her yogurt sundaewith her girlfriends talking about her teachers, boys, and oh, who I am kidding, more boys…!  Mario, on the other hand, may hit the place after the last of his three ball games.

Mario ready for the season

Skipping

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Maria and Mario skipping on the street

I had a crazy, busy, erratic, hectic, irritating day yesterday at work.  I ate way too much sugar, drank way too many diet colas, and moved way too little.  I got in my car to pick up Mario at 5 pm and on the way to the daycare, I stewed about all of the crappy things said and done throughout my day.  I walked into the daycare to find Mario lined up ready to go outside.  He didn’t notice me at first but when he heard me question “Where is my little Mario?” he immediately turned his head and ran to me while exclaiming “Mommy!” 

The brain is a marvelous, fascinating organ.  Upon seeing his eyes widen and hearing the words “Mommy!” come from his tiny mouth, all of the anger and irritation I had stored up from my day washed away.  I could have just woken up from a night of deep sleep or just gone on a refreshing run.  The pleasure and serenity of holding my child in my arms blew my entire crappy day to pieces.  If only Mario would not flip out whenever I came to his daycare to simply say “hi” throughout the day – I could recharge my body and mind by dashing over to the daycare and getting that warm reception from him every three hours.  The same is true for my Maria.  When I walk in the door from a long day at work, she almost always greets me with an emphatic “Mom!” and comes running in the kitchen to embrace me with her strong Maria-hug .  Whoosh – all the absurdity and madness of the day carried away with that 5 second squeeze. 

Giving each other hugs

Tonight, the kids and I took a walk up to the new yogurt store.  The night air brought a chill so we bundled up in our jackets (which I had almost stored away after having a full weekend of 70 degree days) and made our way out the door.  Maria darted off up the street, which is Mario’s new irritation.  He detests when she runs in front of him.  She is usually pretty good about stopping and waiting for him if he yells “Wait Sissy.”  Something about the word “sissy” grabs her heart.  He yelled the magic name as she ran up the street and she stopped.  He caught up to her (those little arms and legs pumping away!) and tugged at her jacket. 

“Maria, I know what we can do.  Let’s skip.”  And then, there it was – Maria and Mario skipping up the street.  I could not have ripped a more beautiful scene from the pages of the Evening Post magazine.  My heart expanded twenty-fold and if it exploded, it would have strewn multi-colored confetti everywhere.  Weirdo, heh?  I mean, really?  Who has not seen kids skip down the street?  Ahh, well, there is no control of the heart, and mine chose to fall in love with the sight of my daughter and son skipping.  The peach sunset and white blossoms didn’t hurt to set the scene either.  Those moments I am so grateful for because they keep me grounded and focused on what matters in life.  Skipping.

127 Hours

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Maria and Mario post-mulching (Mario was proud of his dirty face and hands!

I had both kids in bed by 9:50 on Thursday night.  Amazing, and quite early for Mr. Mario who typically refuses to go to bed unless I lay down with him (especially when Jon is out of town).  I had to shower in the evening due to fingernails filled with dirt and mulch in my hair.  The kids and I hit up the flower store earlier and bought 10 bags of mulch – we got through 4 of them before the kids were ready to move on to better things, namely, dinner for Maria and basketball for Mario.  While I was soaking in the shower, Mario fell asleep in my bed (and Maria hit the hay as soon as her head fell on her pillow).  What a gift of time! 

Maria biking and Mario running

I think the mulching and the run up the street to the pizza store helped wear the boy out. Lately, Maria has been all about her bike and Mario has been all about walking/running.  He can make it a mile without stopping to take a breath or rest.  He has got his mom’s lungs.  Maria keeps us truckin’ because she zooms on her bike – the same bike she has had since she was three with training wheels wobbling, rust growing and princess stickers falling off.  I think a new bike may be in order for her 6th b-day.

Back to my evening.  I got downstairs at 10:15, cleaned up the living room and kitchen, and flipped through the movies on pay-per-view.  One of my favorite past times is hitting up the movie theatre with popcorn and pop in tow (and usually a box of whoopers or goobers).  Since I could not leave the children alone (oh, how tempting!), I had to be content with the tv, chips and dip, and a diet 7Up.  I flipped through the new releases and it came down to Black Swan and 127 Hours.   My brother gave 127 Hours rave reviews and it was only one and a half hours long.  It won. 

I’d give it a 5 out of 10.  It kept my interest for the most part but there were times in it that I grew impatient watching James Franco make videos of himself.  I know the director wanted the audience to get as accurate and real a picture of this climber being stuck in this crevice – his arm wedged into the rock by another rock – but I thought it dragged out a little too long.  However, Franco did an excellent job recreating the absolute horror and intensity of cutting off his arm.  The detail of that scene itself sticks to my bones.  The ending failed to meet my expectations, too.  I didn’t feel an ultimate connection with Franco at the end, which is something I look forward to in watching a movie (Annette Benning wowed me in The Kids Are Alright).  

There was one scene right before Franco cut off his arm where Franco was beginning to give up and he had a vision of himself with his future son.  That part struck me because I remembered back when I had a minor health scare.  There were about two weeks where I waited to hear back from my doctor.  Maria and Mario were both born, and the only thing that kept me up at night was the thought of leaving them at such a young age and not being able to watch them grow.  When I was pregnant with Maria, I still remember thinking that I could never love her as much as I loved our pup, Cy.  Sad but true (and it did take about 3 months to love her as much because she was such a fussy baby)!  But now I cannot imagine not being a part of their lives and the amount of love that I have for them feels limitless.

Maria and Mario in a loving state before school!

The next morning I paid for my “crazy movie night” when Maria and Mario woke me up at 6:45 am.  I felt like I had slept 2 hours.  It reaffirmed the fact that I need to go to bed by 10:30.  The kids knew I was tired and took care of me by getting dressed in a reasonable amount of time and walking the entire way to school.  When we arrived, Maria began to pout and complain that she did not want to be in school.  She did not want me to leave.  She has been getting like this lately, especially on the weeks that Jon is gone.  I hugged her and told her that she would have a great day, and without prompting, Mario also hugged and her and said “Don’t worry, Ri, school will be fun and I will play with you this afternoon.”  She planted a long, hard smooch on his cheek, and we walked home. 

I told Mario I was proud of him for helping out his sister, and he looked at me and replied “I love my sissy.”  Watching their relationship continue to grow is a gift for Jon and I.  Jon returned that night, and the kids were ecstatic to see him walk through the door. Echos of “DADDY” still ring through my head.  Later that evening, Jon and I relaxed in our normal fashion – Jon with some tv and me with my computer, and I was fast asleep by 10:30.

You are so Smart!

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Never tell your kids they are smart.  Never ever ever.

At least that is what the experts say.

The kiddies after being praised for knowing that the dinosaur behind them was the T Rex.

In a study outlined in How Not To Talk to Your Kids, simply telling children that they are smart may hinder the chances of truly excelling because they have less incentive to try new things.  They are too concerned about winning their parents’ praise and worried about failing.  To the contrary, the more you focus on a child’s effort, the better off they may be.  For example, if you have a child that worked for an hour and spelled all of her words correctly, you should say to her “You worked really hard on that project and look at what you achieved.”  Studies show that such praise has a direct effect of getting kids to work harder because they hear praise about their effort and therefore increase their effort the next time to get further praise. 

Great. 

I have showered my kids with unsolicited “smart” praise since their birth.  “Oh, you are the smartest baby ever” after Maria looked at me while nursing the first night after her birth. After her first step, I exclaimed “You are the smartest girl ever!”  Mario did not escape this type of praise either.  When he crawled across the room, I boasted “You are the smartest infant ever!”  When he wrote  the letter “a” a few months ago, I replied “You are the smartest boy ever!”    

M & M doing their nightly reading

And all that time, I was actually screwing them up!  Ahh, tis the insanity of life.  

Now, when Maria or Mario pronounce a word in their book correctly, I respond with “You worked really hard to pronounce that word correctly – great job.  You are so smart!”  For some reason, I just can’t drop that express “smart” praise.  I am the same way with the words “hun” and “darlin'”.  I have that Perkins pancake waitress twang in me from 7 years waitressing through high school and college and I still find myself calling people “hun” in a meeting with top administrators.  It is hard to break a habit.  So, I am taking baby steps…  I am working on mixing praise of intelligence with praise of effort with the hopes that I will at least help nourish grade “C” children in the future!  Heck, I am sure I will read next month from another  journal that praise of intelligence is the best form of praise….