Tag: Kids

More soccer in the family

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Mario played soccer at school recess after he broke his arm on New Year’s Eve. He used to only care for football at recess but with a bum arm, that’s impossible. So soccer it was for 6 weeks straight. 

He enjoyed it. 

A few times over dinners, he asked if he could play on Spring soccer. I told him I’d look into it. It so happened that I was picking him up at school one evening after a Kids Night Out function and one of the dads there asked me if Mario played soccer. I told him he had never played but was interested. And voila! The next day I got a Facebook message from a Kiwanis coach asking Mario to join them for practice. 

When I told Mario, he was charged up. 

When I told Ri, she cried.

Soccer has always been her sport. She’s worked her way up from Kiwanis to OCL and she’s proud. She loves the game. She does not want to share it with her brother. She worries that Mario will excel in it and become the “soccer star.” She broke my heart as she relayed all these emotions to me while getting ready for bed.

A part of me thought I should take Mario out of soccer. After all, he’s also playing flag football this Spring. But that’s not fair. And Ri needed to understand that we’d always love watching her play and it would always be her sport. 

Jon was out of town this week when Mario had his first practice. I took him up to it and dropped him off. Ri did not want to go. I went back home after walking Rocco and told Ri that I wanted her to walk up to Mario’s practice with me to pick him up. I bribed her with ice cream.

We arrived with ten minutes left to practice. They were scrimmaging. Ri and I watched Mario run the field. Ri didn’t say much for the first couple of minutes. Then, as Mario stopped the ball mid-field, she shouted:

“Go Mario! Get that ball and score!”

I melted. My girl – although not too happy about Mario’s choice to play “her sport” – still rooted on her brother to victory. Her heart is as big as the cosmos. And I know Mario heard her and ran harder to impress his big sis.

I told Ri that a reason he wanted to play was because he had seen her enjoy playing the sport so much. She has an influence on him as his big sis. She liked that thought. 

After practice, she begged me to take them to Target to buy him shin guards and a ball so that he’d beprepared for their next practice. The girl takes care of her little bro, no matter what.

   

Fried ham and pancakes and joy

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If only every night could be as delightful as last Wednesday evening. I came home from work and both kids had finished their homework. They asked if we could make pancakes and eggs for dinner. Ri wanted to make the eggs and Mario, the pancakes. Right out of the bat, no fighting over who makes what. Yes!

Ri found some ham in the refrigerator drawer and asked if we could fry up some ham with her eggs. She started frying the ham, and the smell emanated throughout the kitchen. Mario looked over at her as he poured the pancake mix and said “that ham smells great Maria!”

She thanked him and brought a slice over for him to eat. “You need your protein”, she said. He laughed and gobbled it down.   Ri asked how he wanted his eggs cooked. They debated on which would be better – sunny side up or over medium. Mario left it to Maria to decide. Maria then asked if he wanted cheese on his eggs and he replied “whatever you want to give me Maria!” Was I dropped in a fantasy world?!

Mario continued to stir his pancake batter, and was anxious to put the batter on the skillet.  We got the chocolate chips, the cornflakes, and the bananas. Maria likes corn flakes, Mario likes chocolate chips, and I like bananas. Mario asked me to pour the batter on the skillet but he wanted to flip the pancakes. It took a while for them to cook. He kept placing his spatula under a pancake trying to flip it but it was still not cooked enough to flip over. I turned away to wash a dish in the sink and I heard a yell of “Mom!” Mario flipped the pancake when it was still raw and the batter fell halfway off the skillet onto the stove. He was mad at himself. Maria quickly jumped in and provided her pancake war story. 

“Mario,  the first time I made pancakes I flipped the pancakes so hard the batter hit the top of the ceiling and then some came back down and landed all over the floor. So you are doing so much better than I did my first time, little brother!”

He smiled, shook his head in comraderie with Ri, and continued on with his next pancake.    

 The next batch he made were flipped perfectly. He got a plate for Ri and asked her to try one he made for her with a bold combination of chocolate chips and corn flakes. 

“This is superb! It’s ten times better than mom’s pancakes!”

Yes, she gave me a huge grin right after she muttered those words. Then she blurted out a back-handed compliment to me: “It’s ok mom, you are much better with food that’s cooked in the microwave.” Obnoxious… but I couldn’t argue with that observation.  

Mario finished up his pancakes and Ri scraped out her final egg from the skillet. We sat at the table and talked about school work, teachers, and spring break.   Then, to top off the fabulous meal, Mario found the last episode of blackish on demand. He’d been checking every night for me since I had mentioned wanting to see it after hearing how great it was on the topic of race in America. We all sat down in the family room and watched the show together. And to make Mario’s night complete, we  wrestled during the commercials. 

Flu shot, please!

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This crazy girl has been begging me for months to get her a flu shot. I’ve been procrastinating, as always. This morning she got up and the first thing she asked is if we could go to CVS and get a shot. What the heck?! 

Mario, on the other hand, was not ready to get a shot. He’s scared half to death of them like his dad. Maria was trying to convince him it was no big deal – it was actually fun – but he was not convinced. However, he did want to go with us so he could watch Ri. 

Ri walked into Walgreens (CVS was too busy) and hurried to the Pharmacy. I asked the pharmacist if he had time to give a flu shot and he replied he did. Ri squealed in delight. Again, she’s a nut. She took Mario behind the three-fold partition and talked with him about how easy it is to get a shot. They looked at brochures (picking out two “How to Quit Smoking” brochures for relatives who smoke) and Mario asked Ri a ton of questions about how bad the shot would feel in her arm. 

The pharmacist opened the door and came out with the shot. Ri asked me to leave but allowed Mario to watch. Within ten seconds, it was over. No gasp, no scream, no tears. I heard her say to Mario “see, piece of cake; I didn’t even feel it.” Mario came out from behind the wall and pronounced that he would get a shot. He was very proud of himself for braving it. Ri was so excited he was getting one. 

Yes, this is our life. 
Mario wanted me and Ri with him during the two second procedure. When the pharmacist brought out the shot,Mario  hesitated. Ri and I told him he could do it and dad would be so proud, and Mario shook his head giving the ok to the pharmacist. What a brave soldier. He watched it go into his arm and chirped “this doesn’t even hurt.”

  
A little competition from Ri goes a long way. And I am gonna head back to that pharmacist every year; he was a rock star with the kids. Maybe Mario’s fear of shots will subside now. 

Ok, we won’t leap that far; I will just be thankful for no tears today. 

  

Buddy, the leopard gecko joins the family. 

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This little guy joined our family on Sunday afternoon. Mario has been begging for a gecko for months. We considered one as a Christmas present but then decided against it because Mario didn’t plead and beg for it the week before Christmas. But then Mario broke his arm on New Year’s Eve; and he had nothing better to do than to dream about getting a new pet. 

He’d been talking about killing off his two fish for a year (we had told him in the past that he didn’t need a new pet because he had pet fish). Ri finally had heard enough and adopted his fish so she didn’t have to fret for their lives any longer. Now she has four fish swimming around in her room (Jon is known to pull up a chair in her room and watch them). 

So between the broken arm, the fish adoption into Ri’s room, and Jon and mine’s inability to say “no”, we ended up at the Captive Bred Pets Store after Maria’s basketball game on Sunday. The store is tucked away off Morse Road and houses a ton of reptiles, mostly big ol’ snakes. The dude (and yes, he was all “dude”) working at the front desk got peppered by questions from Mario. 

“Where’s your leopard geckos? Do you have their supplies? How many do you have?”

The dude shook his head and mumbled “we don’t have any of those geckos right now.”

Mario was devastated and holding back the tears. Maria immediately turned to me and fought for her brother.

“We need to find another store to buy Mario’s gecko. We can’t go home until he has one.”

I, on the other hand, felt blessed. Oh well, we tried, Mario. Now let’s head home and stare at the fish and be content with Rocco…. Well, not exactly. Jon and I both looked at Mario’s sweet face and knew we’d need to go someplace else.

So we hit Petland. Others had warned us not to go there to buy a gecko. But desperate times call for desperate measures. Mario ran to the gecko aquarium and Ri got a manager to help us. Mario picked up a few of them and then landed on his favorite. He affirmed that the one he was holding so gently was the one he wanted. 

We bought all the accessories and the live crickets and mealworms (not as gross as you’d think) and we’re off to the house to introduce the gecko to Grandview. Mario still had not chosen a name when we arrived home. I had fought for Clem after my grandpa but he nixed it. Ri mentioned a few but he didn’t like hers either.

Jon had to go back to the pet store because we had gotten the wrong size heat pad. This caused severe worry with Mario who was worried that his gecko would get too cold. Maria ran around to get blankets to wrap his box in while we waited for Jon. I went downstairs to get some water and when I returned, I learned our gecko’s name was Buddy. Maria informed me that Mario kept calling it “little buddy” when he picked it up or petted it so she suggested he just call it “Buddy.” Mario liked the idea and hence Buddy was its name. 

Jon arrived home and got the heating pad under the aquarium. He and Mario prepared the sand and vermiculite and housing quarters for Buddy. When they were finished, I was beckoned to Mario’s room. There stood Mario proud as a new papa letting Buddy climb all over him.

   
   
I couldn’t get over how personable Buddy was with us. He just climbed all over Mario and then sat in Mario’s palm and let Mario pet him. Maria begged to hold him and Mario finally relented. Buddy was just as good with her. He climbed up her leg and chilled on her arm while she stroked his skin. He won over our hearts by night’s end. Jon and I find ourselves checking in on Buddy as well as the kids before we go to bed at night.

  
And Mario is just precious watching over him in the morning and evening. He talks to him every morning before school and gets him out to play. He runs home from school to fetch him and say hello. We had to tell him that he still needed to pay attention to Rocco who felt a bit left out last night when the kids pushed him out of Mario’s room so they could get Buddy out. But Mario quickly explained to Rocco that he loves him just as much as he always has, it’s just that “he has to welcome Buddy to our house since he’s so new.”

Rocco understood, we are sure.

Sunday Stauf’s day

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 I mean, seriously, can these two get any cuter? I haven’t gotten a Sunday walk to Stauf’s with these munchballs in months so when they agreed to go with me yesterday, I was so excited. We had the added bonus of being able to wear shorts since it was 55 degrees out!

Ri tried a raspberry, white mocha coffee, which was gorgeously made. But much to my glee, she did not like the taste of coffee. Mario was upset that they did not have chocolate muffins but he finally agreed to try a chocolate chip coffee cake muffin and he devoured it. We played cards and laughed. Jon visited us on his way home from a coffee run and the kids shrieked with joy when they saw him walk across the street. 

Mario got tired on the walk home and asked to get on my back. He’s still my boy.

  
Ri rubbed his leg as we walked home and purred about how happy she was that he was her baby brother.  Then she attempted to kiss him. So much for the piggy back ride and the warm, touching ambiance. He jumped off my back and ran towards Ri warning that he was going to tackle her. They wrestled on the grass in front of the funeral home until I said cool it. Then they hopped up and came running after me. I dodged them though. They continued right past me, and I watched them race home to see dad. 

You’re fired (not really)!

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I had to be at work today by 7:45 so I had to drop the kids off at 7:30 at my friend’s house so she could take them to school. Maria dutifully woke up at 6:45 am to get dressed and I took Rocco for a quick stroll. I returned at 7 am to Mario still lying in bed. 

“Dude, you gotta wake up and get dressed and eat. I have to be at work at 7:45.”

He laid motionless.

After a couple more tries, I pulled out the big guns.

“Mom is going to lose her job if I’m late. And then there will be no house to live in, no vacations, no possibility of a gecko….”

He started to rise. 

I went downstairs to pack snacks for the kids and Mario came tumbling down to the kitchen. Ri was eating cereal.

“Maria, hurry up!” Mario yelled. “Mom is going to lose her job if we don’t get out of here!”

Maria, my no-nonsense daughter, stood up from the table and grabbed her book bag and Mario’s book bag. “Mom, stop making snacks and put on your coat. We gotta go. You can’t lose your job!”

She watched over my every move and scolded me to hurry up. When we were all in the car, the tale grew more ominous.

“If mom doesn’t get to work and gets fired, we will have to get rid of Rocco because we wouldn’t be able to afford food.”

“Yea, or he’d have to eat scraps off the sidewalk. And we wouldn’t ever go on vacation again. And….” All the way to the friend’s house.

Note to self: maybe don’t go so extreme next time. Nonetheless, I guess it shows they understand the importance of a job and not being able to lay around in your pjs all day!

  

Under one roof

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So, I guess the holidays are officially over. We had the Menkedick crew over yesterday and the last of the gifts were ripped open by the kids. 

Time to put away the glittery centerpiece – the only remaining holiday item out of storage. All the other items were packed up and stored away within 48 hours after Christmas. Except for the lights strung around the trees in the front yard; they remained hanging until a few days ago due to the lack of desire to stand in the cold and try to flip the lights off the top branches without success. 

This holiday felt a little off to me. I still haven’t figured out what made it feel this way. It could be the kids being older.I believe Ri officially knows there is no Santa Claus. She doesn’t readily admit it but I can tell. She knows the Easter Bunny and Tooth Fairy are not real so why would Santa? I try to give her a condensed version of the precious articles I read on line by mothers who explained to their dis-believing children that Santa is simply a symbol of the season of giving and kindness. She nods and listens half-heartedly. She’s always been my old soul; she probably has always known there is no Santa but has kept it secret in order not to disappoint Jon and me. On the other hand, Mario seems to still believe. I don’t think he ponders it too much as long as he has gifts on Christmas morning. And when I put Elfie in his room with his Legos, he ran into our bedroom the next morning and was excited that Elfie liked his Lego men. The magic is somewhat still there, at least. 

It took 12 minutes to open presents Christmas morning. It was 7:17 am when we finished. You know you are in for a long day. You think “I just want to sleep for an entire day” but then the kids leave to hang out with grandma and you wonder “what should I do now they are gone?!” 

Or maybe it was the quick in and out with so many different family members. Christmas Eve at my mom’s for an hour ripping through presents and then to Aunt Susie’s with aunts and uncles and cousins and spouses and dogs (the cousins have chosen to own dogs prior to having kids). Talk to an aunt for five minutes, a cousin for ten. Sing caroles. Open presents. On Christmas Day, host my dad and Meg and then Jon’s mom and brothers. Everyone in for a few hours and then off to another home. Again, part of me is exhausted and ready for five minutes alone and another part of me wants a deep, long conversation with my family member. 

Maybe it’s all that yin and yang that leads me to find myself in a state of flux the week between Christmas and New Year’s.  What are my goals for 2016? What do I want for Jon and I? What do I want the kids to accomplish? I want to cook more. I want the kids to engage in more service and not whine when they have to do homework. I want Jon and I to hike. I want to sit still for an entire two hours. I wish Christmas could have lasted longer. I didn’t get to talk to Aunt Julie or Laura….

Step back. 

Take a breath. 

Try for one manageable feat at a time.  I am so bad about thinking of 20 different things to accomplish that I get overwhelmed and accomplish none. 

On New Year’s Eve, we went over to a friend’s house. A couple of Mario’s friends were there and a friend of Maria’s was there. The kids played upstairs and Jon and I hung in the kitchen talking to the adults and catching up with old friends. It was around 11:30 pm and Ri was knocked out upstairs. Jon and I agreed we should hit the road so we could be home at midnight. We were making the rounds saying goodbye when Mario flew into the kitchen crying in pain. 

“It’s broke! I heard it crack!” 

He held his arm. The way he was cradling it and the tears in his eyes had me nervous. A resident doctor was at the party and came over to look at it. She asked some questions and turned and probed it, and then told us we should take him to the ER. Lovely. She made a homemade sling for him and we were off. 

It was broken. 

We got home at 2 am drunk with fatigue. The rest of the weekend was long and tiresome and chill. I looked at Christmas pictures with Ri and reviewed FB posts of family. I cracked up thinking about Mario stealing the white elephant gift from Michael and Susie and Kenny leading us in caroles. I smiled remembering Ri open up her Molly baby from Grandma Lolo and Mario playing checkers with my dad. Alana and Gio excited to give me a box of chocolates. My aunt Julie and I exchanging duplicate pictures of each other in DC.  The girls opening American Girl dolls from Patty. Ri and Grandma Meg playing dolls together. Ben drawing random pieces of food on white papers, rolling them up, and giving them out to everyone. Maria and Anna taking Rocco on a walk together.

I love family. I actually get excited when I know there’s a get-together coming up. Nothing pleased me more than to have both my sis and brother in town a few years ago to share Christmas. This isn’t a new realization by any means. I’ve always been family-oriented. I could never leave Ohio because my parents and family live here. I wouldn’t want to not be close to them. And that’s one of the traits that attracted me to Jon right away. He loves family just as much. 

But I do realize how my expectations on what the holidays will bring need to be adjusted. I am not gonna get 30 minutes to sit down with my cousin to talk about the insanity of politics or to talk with my brother about the meaning of life. There’s too much chaos and revelry and excitement and people to see. So I just get to ask my cousin about her new house or my aunt about her classroom and move on to the next conversation. That’s fine. If you want a longer time, go out to dinner in January. The holidays are not structured for long-winded dialogue but for hugs and brief updates and cooing over new babies. 

So, here’s to my crazy, amazing family and all the fabulous times we have together – mostly over the holidays now since we are all doing our thangs, ya know…. Christmas 2015 will be appreciated for reminding me that the simple act of being together under one roof is a gift for which to be grateful. 

   
    
    
    
    
    
 

Putting up the tree

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I can’t believe we got our Christmas tree up the Sunday after Thanksgiving. That is a record for us procrastinating folks.

Sundays have been deemed “mom-not-allowed-to-run” days by the kids. Sunday morning, Mario hopped on our bed with a huge smile on his face and announced “mom, no running today!” Maria jolted into our room 30 seconds later and we all laid together (thank god for a king size bed). These moments are some of the best. Inevitably, Mario will say something that makes us laugh hysterically and Ri will follow up with some witty response. Then there’s lots of hugging and squeezing … and wrestling. It all makes me so pleased.

After Jon had enough of Mario’s jackknifes into his side, he got up to get his coffee. The kids and I decided to head to Stauf’s for breakfast (actually I begged and they gave in). I made them both walk with me rather than scooter or bike. Lots of whining at first but then they realized that it wasn’t so bad, especially when you play 20 questions. The kids picked a bar table and chairs for us to sit at Stauf’s. We got our bagels and cream cheese (all three of us got the same Black Russian bagel but three different cream cheeses) and started in on Go Fish. Mario whooped on us. Usually it’s Ri. We moved on to War and when Mario started killing us in that, we had to shut it down (Ms. Maria gets a bit competitive nowadays). 

   

 On our walk home, we played Pac Man on the brick enclosure in front of the real estate office. It was all fun and games until Mario tripped into the middle of the flower bed and fell on a Thanksgiving wire ornament. Ri and Mario died laughing while I reoriented the ornament. 

About two blocks from home, Ri announced “we should put up the Christmas tree!” Mario agreed. We’d never put up the tree this early but we had nothing planned for the day so I thought we better crank it out. We use the tree my Grandma Menkedick gave us when Ri was  a baby. She used it for years before handing it down to us. It is about eight feet tall and looks kinda real…. The kids love putting the branches on and could not fathom a “real” tree. 

Mario lost interest as we started on the ornaments. Ri tried to entice him by putting on Christmas music. It helped for a bit. He just wanted to find the pickle ornament. He loves to hide that ornament every year and dare people to find it. Ri got out some old, precious ornaments that I had bought my grandma in the 1970s. We found some of Jon’s when he was little, too. The kids loved to hear stories of our childhood.  

I see all these pictures of friends’ trees – they are so organized with matching gold ornaments and icicles sprinkled throughout the fir. Our tree is a hodge podge of randomness. An old 1970s ornament alongside a handmade paper ornament along side a plastic M&M guy alongside a plastic dog. But I wouldn’t change it at all. 

It was Ri’s turn to place the “blue star” on the tree. It is more like a North Star compass- every year we talk about getting new tree topper and every year we fail to do so. Mario begged to put it on instead of Ri but for once Ri didn’t give in to him.    

He didn’t get upset though (he really is getting so much better at letting things go)  and we all posed for a picture by dad. Rocco even joined us (after his tail knocked over two ornaments – a warning Jon had given us three seconds prior to it happening).

 After Jon took the picture, we begged him to get in one with us. It took the kids’ longing eyes to convince him (he has no problem saying no to me!). Of course, none of them turned out Christmas card worthy but at least he’s in one. I keep telling him he will appreciate that I made him get in these pictures when he’s old and can’t remember these times – these pictures will help him out….

  

So here’s to Christmas 2015 and a holiday filled with family and laughter and gratitude for those who have left us – Grandma would have just adored our little tree.

Chili contest 

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Last Friday, one of my colleagues announced that we needed more people to enter the chili cook-off the following Monday. I have never participated in the cook-off. Why? Real simple. I don’t cook.

As Maria and Mario attest “dad is a good cook with the grill and mom is a good cook with the microwave.”

I agreed that I’d submit a chili because I figured I could make extra to feed the family for a couple of days. On Sunday, I dropped Ri off at basketball. Mario and I hopped in the car to head to Kroger’s to purchase a gift card for Mario’s friend’s birthday. 

“I volunteered to make chili for a cook-off at work, Mario. We need to get some ingredients when we are at Kroger’s.”

“What’s a cook off, mom?”

I explained to him that three OSU football players come in and taste all the chilis and choose a winner. The winner gets a football (I embellished the story a bit – it’s two former players and an athletics outreach director and the football stays in the office, but hey, I had to capture his attention). 

“Mom, we have to win!”

He asked for my phone and typed in “world’s greatest chili recipe ever.” He handed me my phone with the first recipe that came up. I made him help me get all the ingredients, which he merrily did. 

“We are gonna win, mom.”

I made the chili later in the evening while Mario was at his party. He came home and saw the skillet and smelled the goodness. I gave him a bite and he smiled. “That’s gonna win.”

And sure enough, Stan Jefferson and the two young men he brought with him chose our chili as the winner. I squealed when they called out my chili as the winner like I had won a trip to the Bahamas. I was so excited to tell Mario (it had to be the salsa addition to the chili mix). 

  
I walked in the door with the football in my book bag. Mario was looking at his iPad. I whipped out the football and broke the news. Mario jumped up and fist bumped me. I knew we’d win, mom!”

It helped that I used two pounds of ground beef – double the amount called for – knowing my audience would appreciate that call. But I believe it was Mario’s optimism that ultimately pushed us to victory. He tasted victory all along.