Tag: Maria

Halloween with the Superheroes

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Superheroes!

Maria and Mario love Halloween as much as their mama loved Halloween as a kid.  Our Halloween was held on Sunday, the 31st.  Most other neighborhoods held their Halloween on Thursday, the 28th.  When I realized this, I immediately came up with a plan to stroller to the adjacent neighborhood and hit a few homes on Thursday.  Jon stopped that nonsense.  “Mary, give me a break – they will get too much candy on Halloween night – you do not need to go out Thursday, too.”  In my heart, I knew that.  However, in my competitive head, I didn’t care.  It wasn’t that I thought we really needed the candy (that is the farthest thing from what this family needs) or that I would eat it all up (which I would if in front of me – another farthest thing from what mom needs!) – it was simply that we had the opportunity to go out and collect free things (candy in this instance, and an occasional set of fangs) and I wanted to take advantage of it!  I was the same way as a young girl dressed up in my crayola crayon costume or my ghost costume.  I would walk around the neighborhood until my legs felt like they were encased in cement – tired, heavy and slowwww.  But when I got home and flipped over my pillow case – heaven on earth.  Reese’s, Snickers, Heath, Milky Way, KitKat….

Ready for the Haunted Hayride and festivities...

Rather than head to the adjacent neighborhood, we went to our neighborhood park for a Haunted Hayride and Halloween goodies.  They had four large card tables full of chocolate candy, cookies, chips and cheetos, and hot dogs.  My children could not get enough.  Maria dived into the cookies like they were being discontinued, and Mario ripped into Kit Kat bars like he had never eaten in his life.  It was impossible to monitor the two of them, also, because each of them had me at different places at different times (part of their plan).  Of course, here I am spouting off about how much candy they are eating and telling them to stop as I rip open my third snickers and take a big bite.  Like mother like daughter and son.  Neither superhero won the costume contest.  My girlfriend’s daughter won as a pink flamingo and a boy we didn’t know won as a Mad

Returning from the hayride (Mario is still shaken by ax-wielding boys!)

Hatter.  Maria was upset – Mario could have cared less unless it meant he would be forbidden from the candy.  Maria could care less about winning in sports but when it comes to contests related to costumes, drawings, guessing games, she is serious.  We took a hayride around the park, which was not too scary (there were two little guys at the end holding fake axes that scared Mario a bit) but provided great entertainment for me because Maria sat next to her Kindergarten buddy, Jason, and bugged him the whole time by sitting close to him, getting in his face, and snuggling with him. 

Maria’s Halloween night left her with a basket full of treats and some good times with her friends and cousin.  In past years, I have held her hand and we have gone to a dozen houses before she looks at me and pleads “let’s go home and eat our candy, mom.” This year, a completely different girl emerged.  She walked over ten blocks, saw friends from school that she embraced and talked to, walked up to houses by herself and said “thank you” after getting a treat, and acted goofy with her cousin during the entire trick-or-treat event.  I even caught her looking at people differently than she has in the past.  She really studies them now.  Both girls and boys.  She will catch something on them or about them that fascinates her, and she will just stare.  She looks to be in deep thought processing why the person is acting a

Maria and her cousin

 certain way or looks a certain way.  It is much more penetrating and more sophisticated than her stares in the past.  I walked the last block home holding her hand and her cousin’s hand thinking about how lucky I am to be able to experience the excitement and raw pleasure that these two five-year-old girls have for this holiday. 

Mario just wanted to eat his candy.  We went to about ten houses before he looked at me and demanded to eat a piece of candy.  I told him he had to wait until we got home and without hesitation, he was ready for home.  It was as if he knew that after he ate his candy that night, he would likely never see his basket again (Jon wants it out of the house so I stash t in secret hiding places for me and to calm the kiddies when I need to do so).  He got just the amount

Spiderman playing it cool

 he could eat that night with a few extras for the grandparents (he knew his mom and dad would require him to give a few away to family).  Calculated little fella.

So, another Halloween over.  Maria brought home a craft from Daisies this afternoon.  It was a paper turkey for Thanksgiving.  Hard to believe that it is only three weeks away.  I catch myself saying that every year but every year it seems even harder to believe how the time flies.

M&M getting ready for bed after a night of Halloween fun!

Boo at the Zoo

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Maria and her goat

I had heard from a few friends that the zoo has a fun “Boo at the Zoo” event in honor of the Halloween season.  I thought Maria and Mario would enjoy it since we had not been to the zoo for a year and they would be able to not only see the animals but gather treats at all of the treat stations.  I was right. 

Mario and his goat

We got to the zoo at 10:30 in the morning thinking that we would leave by 1 or so in order to get a nap later in the afternoon.  We left at 5:30 pm.  The kids had a blast in their costumes (especially Mario who strutted up to anyone who glanced at him and shouted “Spiderman!”).  The weather could not have been nicer.  We got the treat of seeing a polar bear dive into the water right in front of us.  A mama and baby elephant fed on hay together.  A huge rhino walked by us.  The kids petted a snake (they could not wait to come home and describe the event to dad who is not fond of snakes)!  We even found the barn and petting zoo.  The petting zoo had a score of baby goats for the kids to pet and comb.  Maria loved combing and brushing the babes.  She has got the most gentle demeanor around babies – human or animal.  Mario liked their tiny poop pebbles thinking they “looked cool.”

Maria and her baby elephant

We watched the bats being fed in the bat cage (bananas and apples) and my observant Maria noticed three little white bats at the corner of the room that looked like newborn babies (or it could have been a different species of bat).  Nonetheless, Maria again proves that she is like her father – able to see the tiniest of things that most people overlook in their hurried lives.  She makes me breathe and slow down.  Unfortunately, we went to the reptile house next so I slowed down to see the snakes and lizards. 

We ate a healthy lunch of zoo pizza, hot dog and french fries at the Zoo Eatery.  While we were eating, they played a clip about Africa and Mario perked up “That is where mom wants to go, Ria!”  I have dreamed of Africa since seeing “Out of Africa” with Meryl Streep and Robert Redford years ago.  The land reeks of beauty and depth and richness.  I love Alexandra Fuller’s books of her childhood in Africa.  Something about that country penetrates me.

Spiderman heading down the slide

After filling ourselves to the brim with grease, we headed off to the zoo playland, which both kids surprisingly enjoyed (usually one of them gets bored quickly).  Maria played mother hen to Mario watching his every step and guiding him in the correct direction when he veered awry.  At one point, some older boy began to push his way by Mario to get through a tunnel, and I saw Maria take the boy’s arm and thrust him back.  Little does Mario know how his sister protects him and has his back.  I have a feeling this protective sister will remain throughout his life (watch out girls). 

Super Girl heading down the slide

We ended our visit by petting a rat and hugging Biscuit and Gravy from Bob Evans (yes, the kids knew who they were – that is a bad sign!).   I allowed each of them to get something little from the gift shop – Maria got a stuffed animal penguin that we named Pipi and Mario got two plastic cheetahs.  On the drive home, Maria wrapped Pipi up in her Super Girl cape and told Pipi how happy she would be at her new home.  Mario smashed his new cheetahs together and made them kill each other the entire way home. 

I got home and sat on the couch.  M&M soon huddled over to me wanting to continue to play.  As I tickled their feet and smothered them with kisses, I thought to myself “this is a perfect day.”  I wish I could bottle that feeling up and open it up when I need it (like tonight when I am fighting a bunch of deadlines and trying to get everything together).   I am working hard on changing my thinking when I start to go down this path of worry and anxiousness.   This weekend, I could have been in a worried, anxious, irritable state based on some situations at work.  But I knew I needed to change my thinking from worried/anxious to grateful in order to keep me up on the mood elevator, and keep me enjoying the weekend with my family. 

Maria was not lcosing her eyes because she was scared of the snake!

There were times I slipped and started down the worrisome path, but each time I caught myself and guided my thinking back to grateful (look at these awesome kids of mine, look at my kind hubby, look at my great family and network of friends…).  When I can find grateful, I can find stability and peace.  And I can go to bed at night just a little more uplifted and hopeful of what is to come (which tomorrow is more Halloween candy so yippee!!!).

Mario braving it!

The tedious task of shaving

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I hate shaving. 

Enjoy being shave-free for now, girlie!

I am looking so forward to cold weather so I can get a break from shaving.  I am going to look like Grizzly Adams  when Spring hits this year because I have become so annoyed with the process and cannot wait for a reason to take a break.  My razor is always dull and I have to run it up and down my leg five times in order to get a smooth cut.  I think about the amount of time that I have spent shaving my legs throughout the years, and I am sure I could have built a tiny empire or traveled around the world a few times. 

And the armpits.  Ugh.  Why is it I tug and pull all over my underarm in order to get a good shave and yet when I put on that sleeveless shirt, I still find that one lone hair sticking out of my pit.  It’s as if it is giving me the middle finger and laughing hysterically – “You thought you got me, sucker, well I am a hard one to pluck, baby!”. 

Maria walked in to the bathroom tonight while I was in the shower.  She saw me shaving my leg, and sat on the toilet to watch.  Finally, she spoke up and  questioned “When will I get to shave my legs?”  I sighed and responded, “believe me, Ri, you do not want to have to shave.” 

“Yes, I do mom, that will mean I am becoming a woman.”

Yeah, believe me Ri, I felt that way too at age 10.  I remember looking at my pits in the full-length mirror situated in my bedroom at my old house and seeing a busy jungle planted in both of them.  I waited for mid-size game to jump out onto my floor screaming in delight at finally escaping captivity.  I had to actually use gardening shears to trim the hair and then move on to a razor.  Now I realize that my mom and dad were protecting me for as long as they could from that awful, inevitable process – the shave.  I will undoubtedly do the same for my daughter (although I may break down and give her the razor when I see hair poking out of all sides of her precious arms).

Thinking fo those kids again….

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One of Mario's dress decisions

Mario enjoys dressing himself.  Actually, I think it is more accurate to state that Mario hates others to dress him.  He knows what works for him (which lately has been an old pair of black sweats and some plain colored long-sleeved shirt) and he wants to hear no different from a mom who wants him to wear a trendy, new short-sleeved polo shirt that she bought him months ago and he still has not worn (summer is over soon, buddy!).  Mario is 3. 

One of Maria's more "conservative" outfits

If Maria had a choice, Maria would allow her mom to dress her everyday.  She wants to have the right to overrule any clothes selection made by me, but she wants me to ultimately put the clothes on her body.  All the way down to her socks and undies.  Maria is 5. 

Maria enjoys being pampered.  If we were living in 18th century France, she would surely be the Queen.  She has no qualms demanding things from me, her father, her grandparents, her brother (to her credit, she will typically put a “please” on the end of a demand if that makes it any better).  She likes massages.  She loves fancy dinners.  She wants a stroller to pick her up when she steps outside the house. 

Yet, Maria is also gritty and bombastic and attentive.  She senses emotions and feelings in people before most adults.  She acts hawkish with her family always ready to protect them by any means.  If Mario is crying, she will search all over the house to find his binkie and if she cannot locate it, she will think about what else would calm him down (“give him candy, mom, now!”).  If Jon is having a stressful day, she will sit him on the couch and massage his shoulders (“It’s ok, dad, calmmm down.”).  If I get hurt (typically by Mario’s kick in the face or punch in the gut), she swoops me up and immediately applies a band-aid (bleeding or not) while asking me how I feel every ten seconds and rubbing my head. 

Maria and Mario at the pumpkin fest "corn swim" - Maria did not take her eyes off of Mario and pushed anyone who got close away

She cleans like a wild woman when in the mood.  I can put her in charge of washing the floors, scrubbing the cabinets, beautifying the windows – she will do it all (except her own room).  However, there is always one prerequisite – we have to play Cinderella while she is cleaning.

“Mom, act like you are my stepmother and you are making me clean – but you are a nice stepmother.”

“Cinderella, you better be cleaning so you can get to the ball and dance your tail off!”

“No, mom, so I can get to the ball and meet my prince.”

“You can meet a prince, darlin’ but you also need to have fun on your own and not be dependent on a man.”

“Oh, mom, just say it!”

Yeah, as much as I try to take the “fairy tale” out of the “fairy tale”, it does not work too well.  “It is her age”, other mothers tell me, “she will have no desire to talk about boys in a few years.”   Yeah, and I will turn 20 next year.  We’ll see.

Maria is also one heck of a singer.  We learned this fact during my sister’s reception at my parents’ farm in September.  My uncle Jack played with his band for a couple of hours while people ate and hung out.  After about a half of an hour, Maria walked over to the band, grabbed the microphone, and started singing.  No inhibitions.  Her cousin, Alana, stood by her side, a little shy and overwhelmed.  And Maria not only sang, she sang with such passion and force.  She held that microphone and swayed, moved it around her mouth, switched hands while continuing her tribute – a little budding Beyonce.   

Mario posing after taking 20 minutes to put his socks on "correctly"

And then there is Mario – the second born.  The “crazy little monkey” as we call him because it fits so well.  He is a typical second born child – trying to get all the attention and spoiled (although as I think about it, Maria is just as spoiled being the first-born – I guess we are equal opportunity spoilers!).  He will talk over Maria while she is trying to sing just to irritate her and have the audience focus on him rather than her.  He will cry and flail is arms and scream with the hope of getting his way (typically done when he wants chocolate or candy before dinner and is told no).  In addition to being a crazy little monkey, he  is also an independent little stubborn mule.  If he cannot get his sock on the way he likes it (he inherited from his Aunt Sarah an obsession for making the line on his sock lay directly over all of his toes) then he continues to try and try and try for however long it takes to get it right.  On the weekends, so be it.  Gives Jon and I more time to read the paper.  But on weekdays it is maddening as we are trying to get out the door for Kindergarten and work. 

He is the child that will go outside for an hour and find things to keep him busy without ever needing us to go out and play (Maria would not last five minutes).  He loves to dig and play any kind of ball (he could throw a baseball or shoot baskets for hours) and throw plastic toys around the yard.  He loves his golf but you cannot ever try to put a tee in the ground for him; you will have thought that you just encountered the Incredible Hulk with his explosive reaction.  He wants to do it all himself.  The same applies to breakfast.  He wants to take the waffle out of the package, put it in the toaster, and put the syrup on it.  He will only let me cut it and that is because I scared him by telling him if I don’t cut it he will choke to death from the huge pieces. 

M&M in the fall leaves

But, as much as Mario loves his independence, he still needs his family around him.  He hates the thought of anyone but mommy taking him out of the car, putting him to bed, finding his bink, getting his food (although he did ask for dad to get his cereal the other morning which may be a minor breakthrough), sleeping with him.  Maria left the other week for a couple of days and he continued to ask “Where is Ria? I miss her.”  When she is home, he watches her like a hawk and repeats almost all she does and says (she used to always whine that she did not want to talk about what she did at preschool and when I ask him at dinner what he did, he responds: “I don’t want to talk about that right now, mom!”).  When Jon went out of town for a few days, he cried on the way home one night for his daddy to come home.  Both he and Maria are like pack dogs – they like to see the entire pack together.

Hopefully, that desire will stick around when they are 17 years old.  However, somehow I see Maria dashing out the door to sing at the local bar and Mario darting out to play his fourth game of basketball for the day.

Pups, Hamsters, and Guinea Pigs, Oh My…

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Maria with her "duster" pup

The other night Maria and Mario and I were brainstorming on what to do for the evening since it was raining and chilly.

“Let’s go to the zoo, mommy” Mario pleaded.

The zoo is closed and it’s raining, nut-ball” I joked back to him.  That led to ten minutes of pummeling from the two monsters who laughed as they tackled me for call ing Mario a “nut-ball.”  They will find any excuse to tackle me or Jon.  They have our rambunctious genes. 

“How about the pet store?” I ask (knowing that the strip mall with the pet store had a Halloween store and bike store – two places I had to get to in order to get costumes for the kids and get my bike geared up to ride them around before winter strikes). 

They were all over it especially because this pet store holds pets in open-aired cages so that you can easily pick them up and hold them.  Hamsters, mice, guinea pigs, rabbits, and even rats (which we are told by the pet store supervisor are actually very sweet animals who like to be held – yeah, and Attila the Hun was really a darling sweet guy).  Maria darted straight to the pups when we arrived.  And, oh, were there pups!  Some fluffy and round, others pointy-eared and hyper.  Maria found one that was tiny, fluffy, and white like a little duster, and she cradled that pup in her arms like she was its long-lost momma.  Little did Ri know how much I wanted to take him home – he was about the cutest little pumpkin ever but I knew that Cy (our 12-year-old Chesapeake) would not be too excited about that little pumpkin coming into his abode. 

Mario and his hamster

Mario found a furry, light brown mutt who was just as hyper as Mario, and who dragged him around the entire store.   Mario quickly lost interest in the pup when he saw all of the hamsters scurrying around their cage.  He became fascinated with the little plastic “homes” that the hamsters slept under in their cages.  He tortured these poor hamsters by lifting the plastic home constantly – making the hamsters scurry to the next home – and then lifting that home up.  He begged to take home one of the hamsters.  I firmly believe the hamster would have firmly protested against such an idea because whenever Mario picked one up, he squeezed its belly so tight that I thought the hamster’s eyes may pop out. 

The rabbits were another favorite of Maria’s – she enjoyed trying to pick them up and petting their soft, long ears.  Mario also liked the birds and finally got up the courage to feed one some bird seed.  He beamed with pride as the bird nibbled away from his palm.

So, there you go folks, an inexpensive fun night for the entire family (although you do smell like a combination of rodent waste and dog dander when you walk out of the store….).

Another save by Anne Lamott

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Maria and Mario enjoying the slide on one of our routine park trips!

Anne Lamott deserves eternal grace and love.  She continues to pull me through rough times and ground me on this Earth, feet flat, eyes ahead, mouth situated upwards.  Not even my hubby or my kids can take me to the place she leads me where I feel a deep comfort and appreciation for all I have and who I am.  No matter if I just had a wreck of work day, a blowout with my kids, a frantic eating frenzy of chocolate and pizza – her stories penetrate. 

I read her story about her friend David Roche tonight ( http://www.davidroche.com/anne-lamott/).  I have read it at least ten times before but I specifically hunted it down on the internet tonight because I knew it would lift me up.  David is a humorist.  He happens to have a facial deformity, too.  He uses it to lift people out of their house of fear and to open up their mind to the beauty in their world.  He talks about the fleeting moments of true happiness and bliss. 

…[E]veryone has come to understand that unconditional love is a reality, but with a shelf life of about eight to ten seconds. Instead of beating yourself up because you feel it only fleetingly, you should savor those moments when it appears. As David puts it, “We might say to our beloved, ‘Honey, I’ve been having these feelings of unconditional love for you for the last eight to ten seconds.’ Or, ‘Darling, I’ll love you till the very end of dinner.'”

Mario's tenth silly face

Oh, how true.  I have been beating myself up lately because of my irritation with not feeling more of these incredible, awe-inspiring moments on a routine basis but this brings me back to reality.  Stop wishing for more of these moments and instead relish in the moments that do come my way.  I am quite sure that Maria’s raucous laugh or Mario’s silly faces or Jon’s adoring comments could produce an unconditional love-filled moment or two but I often brush it aside as I try to plan for the next day or the upcoming meal or bath time.  I will try to let it wash over me from now on and live in that moment of bliss. 

Maria laughing it up after diving in the pool with her clothes on!

I took Maria and Mario to the park tonight to play in the sand volley ball court and run around the jungle gym.  A group of parents were in the park with their kids watching them play soccer.  I stood talking with another mom who was holding one of her newborn twins.  As I stood with her, I occasionally glanced over at M&M who were skipping through the sand and dragging sticks behind them.  I watched them as they ran together to the jungle gym and Maria teased Mario all the way up the stairs to the slide and then helped him situate himself to go down feet first.  They giggled together and yelled for each other.  I look back on those moments this evening as I sit at this computer and I smile.  What more to wish for at this time in life than a pair of kids who find humor in each other and enjoy the outdoors and nature and fresh air and fall nights.  We are blessed by someone or something to be able to take in all of the smells of Fall, all of the energy of young kids, all of the beauty of a falling sun. 

M&M hanging tight on the ride home

Thanks, Anne, for letting me mediate on this tonight.

Let ’em fight!

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My superhero

Ok, parents – go ahead and let your son tackle the neighbor kid.  Let him get out that toy uzi and act like he is shooting up the world.  If you don’t, he may have problems when he gets older.  Yeah, that is the latest news about boys… http://www.msnbc.msn.com/id/38882665/ns/health-kids_and_parenting/

They need to exert that aggressive behavior in order to learn more appropriate behavior like controlling impulses and considering the perspectives of others.  Kinda like saying you need to shoot somebody in order to learn empathy. 

I am so glad that when Mario tackles me or stabs me with his plastic sword that I am promoting these appropriate behaviors in him.  Maybe in 25 years his live-in girlfriend will thank me when she reaps the benefits of my stiff necks and stab wounds? 

The article did not surprise me and I understand where numerous of the quoted authors are coming from and preaching.  However, I was taken aback by one of the quoted authors, Michael Thompson (a psychologist who wrote a book about raising boys) who asserted that “boys are innately wired for dominance and that is going to affect the kinds of stories they like and the kind of games they play.” 

Not sure I agree with that assertion.  Does that mean that if a boy is not aggressive and dominant that something is innately wrong with him?  And does it infer that girls are innately wired for submissiveness and house work?  Now, that being said, I have known a few boys who have grown up with parents who were adamant about no guns in the house, no aggressive play, no violence.  Yet, those boys found someway to create a gun or a sword or a club.  And all of those boys went through a phase where they were destructive and played aggressively with each other or their older female siblings (who certainly seemed to be innately wired for dominance when they pushed them down on the ground with one hand and laughed hysterically). 

Maria giving "the look" - boys, you better run!

When I was young, I loved to show aggression with my girlfriends – we still harbor the scars on our arms from our scratching fights and they still remember with fond disdain me dragging them across my attic floor.  I am now an attorney who loves a good fight so maybe “innate” dominance is not in boys or girls anymore than it is in genes you inherit from your parents and their parents and their parents.  Both sets of my grandparents could get scrappy.  And on the theme of “scrappy.”  Ms. Maria could take most adults down.  She is a scrapper and regularly “dominates” her little brother with her aggression.

It was Maria this weekend who wrapped toilet paper around her feet and taped the paper firmly so it would not fall off when she walked.  She had heard that girls in China wrap their feet in paper when they go off to fight (never found out where that fact came from).  It was Maria that dared me to a karate fight downstairs.  It was Maria that came after me with a karate chop to the arm and the stomach and the thigh.  All the while, Mario was in the corner with the play kitchen set making soup for me and Maria.

Bike rides, Kindergarten, and temper tantrums

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Jon and I shipped Maria and Mario up to Mama Ionno’s house on Friday last week in order for us to celebrate our 8th wedding anniversary.  We celebrated with Mitchell’s steak and lobster and a trip to the bike store to gather some last-minute items for my bike race on Saturday morning.  We got home at 7:30 pm and I was in bed by 9.  Poor Jon – he is such a trooper with these escapades. 

I woke up at 5:45 and got ready for the 100 mile bike race called the Pelotonia (www.pelotonia.org/ride). 

Feeling good on the mountain bike!

The Pelotonia is an annual bike race wherein riders can ride 23 miles, 43 miles, 100 miles, or 180 miles in support of cancer research.  There are respective cash goals you have to meet based on the number of miles you ride.   The 100 mile route runs from Columbus to Athens.  I got to the starting location at 6:15 am and we were off and riding at 7:30 am.  I made the crazy choice to ride my mountain bike (with at least smaller tires than the big ol’ mountain bike tires but still nowhere near the small width of road tires)  but I really didn’t hurt throughout the ride except in one ten-mile stretch from miles 82 to 92.  I had not stopped at the 75 mile rest stop because I was feeling good and I thought there was a rest stop at mile 87.  Unfortunately, there was no rest stop there 87 – it was moved to 92.  Now, you’d think that 5 miles on a bike is nothing to overcome but when you are going up and down rolling hills, have not eaten any breakfast, and have the sun beaming on you, it feels like 1000 miles.  I felt like I have felt when running a race – like time was at a complete standstill.  I finally reached the rest stop at 92 and it was like walking through the gates of heaven.  I chowed on a granola bars, fruit and pretzels.  My body rebounded and pushed me through the last 15 miles with no aches and pains.  I rode through the finish line to see Jon standing toward the side sopping wet (there was a massive downpour for my last 12 miles).  It felt great to have my supporter so close.   

When we got home, Jon pampered me (as all good hubbies should do).  We laid around and fell asleep early.  We were so excited about getting to sleep in since M&M were still with Mama Ionno.  Yet, to my demise, I twisted and turned all night.  It was as if someone kept shooting electrical waves through my body.  I was restless.  Finally, at 7:30 am, I got out of bed and decided to go for a run.  Yeah, a run.  I felt like Atalanta.  I was one with the wind – unstoppable.  It was unreal.  I could have run for 100 miles that morning.  My legs felt strong.  My lungs felt awesome.  Indescribable.

When I got home, I could have cleaned the entire house in 20 minutes.  My body was just charged up ready for the next feat.  Jon’s sole reaction consisted of these words: “You are a freak.”  This “high” lasted until Tuesday when I completely crashed and could not keep my eyes open past 9 pm.  And Wednesday and Thursday and Friday.  It was wonderful while it lasted.

Thumbs Up for K!

Fortunately, I was still on the high on Tuesday morning when Maria had her first day of Kindergarten.  We woke up at 7 am and as soon as she woke up, she popped up out of bed and exclaimed “We go to get ready, mom – NOW!” She got dressed in record time and even brushed her hair after I asked her the very first time.  I planned a big breakfast for her – waffles, cereal, eggs but her excitement would not allow her to sit down so she opted for a cereal bar instead.  We sat on the porch for what was “forever” to Ri (ten minutes) waiting for Aunt Sarah to arrive and we all walked down to K together.  

What mixed emotions that day.  Walking into her classroom and seeing all the kids at the tables, eyes glued down at their desk or up at the new teacher.  Worried, excited, scared.  Some talking with others; some keeping to themselves.  I found myself continuously asking kids that passed us what their names were and pushing Maria towards them stating “Maria, this is Joey. Maria, her name is Hailey.”  I think back to it now and I see how obnoxious that is!  Just let her move into it at her pace.  But there is that pesky mama gene that just wants it all to at least “look” easy and simple and warm and friendly.  Maria twirling around the wildflowers, laughing and loving life.  Yeah, that ain’t what school was always like for me so it will not be for her either.  She will come home sobbing one day and sad that some girl would not talk to her or some boy said something incredibly rude to her.  I did the same to my mom and stepmom and dad when I was in school.  Somehow they pulled me through and I will do the same with Ri.  But, man, it is hard to think about.  She has been sheltered for five years from all of this crazy stuff. 

He just seeps mischievousness!

Mario, on the other hand, will likely have to be peeled off the walls once he hits Kindergarten.  He is so hyper.  He climbs anything.  He runs everywhere.  He screeches.  His teacher is going to say his name way too many times during the day.  IN seriousness, he is a hyper son-of-a-gun but he also can sit still when he wants to (or is required to) and can listen.  It is just if he has the choice he would rather jump, climb, and run all around.  He turns three in a week and he has been exhibiting those lovely age three temper tantrums for the last few months.  They make you want to pack up a small bag and just go far away for a long time.  He kicks and screams and yells at the top of his lungs.  And will not stop.  I left the other morning for a run and when he awoke and I was not there, Jon said he sat on the steps screaming hysterically for 20 minutes.  Maria used to get mad by going to her room and not talking to us.  Mario will never go that route.  He knows that screaming is much more irritating and hard to ignore.  I hope when he turns three next Saturday that there will be a miraculous shift in that behavior and when he does not get his way he will look up at me and whisper “Mom, that upsets me, may we talk about it?”  Someday.

Graduation

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My oldest child graduated. 

Maria celebrating her "diploma"

No, not from high school or college.  From pre-school.  Yes, you heard it right.  Pre-school. Other mothers are shaking their heads thinking about the time that Georgie or Mandy graduated from pre-school and how silly they felt making such a big deal over it but how they could not stop themselves either.  Women who are not mothers are shaking their heads and laughing hysterically at the insanity of hosting a graduation for a pre-schooler. 

I remember reading a passage out of Laurie Moore’s novel where the lead woman character was discussing her

Maria and one of her teachers

 wedding day.  She surmised that it is not the actual marriage that is so important – it is the memories and milestones you take from the event that mark your life and allow you to remember important times.  That is how I feel about Ri’s graduation.  It is not so much the graduation certificate but the memories of the event itself with Grandma and Grandpas there; Mario running around wanting to snatch a cookie; Maria excited and anxious to get her certificate and hug her teachers.   

Maria was radiant wearing her shimmery green dress and egyptian silver sandals.  She smiled and waved to us as she stood waiting for her graduation certificate.  All I could think about was “Is she really going to get taller, grow hair under her arms, get breasts, and eventually become an adult like me?  It seems impossible. Kindergarten is going to be a whirlwind for her at first – she tends to have a lot of her dad in her and one area that she really has him in her is when it comes to meeting new people.  She likes her small “posse” of friends and becomes very shy when others enter the mix.  If not shy, she becomes stand-offish and even rude.  So, kindergarten should be interesting.  She does have one friend from pre-school in her class so that will help.

Go Maria!

I gotta face the fact that she is starting school and with school comes cliques and heartbreaks and hurt feelings.  As my friend says to me when her daughter tells her that someone hurt her feelings at school “I just want to go up to that kid and tell her that if she hurts my little girl’s feelings, I am going to have to hurt her!”   But with school comes friendships and sisterhood and learning and interests, also.  Here’s to kindergarten and Maria finding a lot more in the latter category than in the former.  Go Maria!    

Swimmin’ in Cincinnati

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The family takes a trip to Cincy while dad is out of town

I decided late in the day on Thursday that I was going to head to Cincy with the kids to spend the night with my mom and visit my grandma.  We were supposed to pick her up on Friday afternoon for a Friday evening bridal shower for my little sis but her world turned inside out with immigration lines, visas, broken down cars.  There was no way she was making it back to Cincy by Friday night from El Paso Texas.  So, I felt like I should get down there anyway to see grandma as she is 90 years old and thoroughly enjoys seeing me and her great-grandchildren (she is a sucker for punishment!).  Besides, Jon got to head to Baltimore for a Baltimore Ravens football game (down on the field before the game and box seats during it – the bum!) so I needed family to sop up my jealous tears!

When we arrived on Thursday night, we headed straight for mom’s pool.  Mom brought some cheese its and apple juice boxes in order to avoid the wrath of Mario (last time Grandma Lolo came to visit Mario asked “did you bring cheese its and juice boxes?” Mom answered no, and he looked very distraught “But, but why?”).  Maria loves the “neighborhood” pool so much more than the big Blue Ash community pool.  She likes to keep it tight and close rather than deal with everyone and their mother.  She swam and jumped around.  Mario sat on the first step of the pool and dipped his head in every five minutes or so.  He played with his noodle (blowing in one end and seeing the water squirt out the other end).  He ate his cheese-its.  

Maria and her noodle

We played hard at the pool for an hour or so and then ravaged some spaghetti, bread and m&ms when we got home.  We decided to head to Aunt Julie’s for some dessert and much to our surprise, for a kitten/possum adventure.  Julie and Ron put out food for stray kittens and a stray baby possum every night.  The critters arrived once dark hit like clockwork – first the kittens and then the possum.  The kids sat at the door watching them for 20 minutes.  When we left to go back to my mom’s house, Mario’s eyes were like hawk eyes watching out for that baby possum.  

We all ended up sleeping in my mom’s full size bed.  I tried to move one of the two of them to the floor but neither of them would have it.  Needless to say, I had cramps and twitches throughout my entire body when I woke on Friday morning from trying to twist my body into a needle to avoid hitting one of them.  In order to stretch my body out, we took a morning stroller ride to Marx Hot Bagels.  I used to go to this bagel store when I was a kid with my mom and dad.  The poignant smell of bagels never leaves you.  I walked in with M&M and immediately felt like I had been blasted back to age 10.  We ordered a sunflower, pumpernickel/onion and a wheat raisin bagel with a mountain of cream cheese and went to town.  Yum!  I could eat one of those every morning.  

We hit Grandma Lolo’s park on the way home and M&M got up on the amphitheatre stage to perform for me.  Mario sang “I like to Move it, Move it” and took a bow.  Maria sang one of her love songs, which went something like this “I wish we could be together but you are not for me.”  I kid you not! Her songs are all about lost love and boys not being good enough for her.  At age 5!  Ahhh! 

As soon as we got home, we headed back out to visit Grandma M.  Ahh, it is always so stress-free and calm 

Mario writing with Grandma M.

 when we head to her assisted living facility.  Ha.  The chaos ensues from the beginning with Maria and Mario having to show off for the residents, sign their name on the visitor sheet, punch the elevator buttons.  That is all in the 1o minutes before we hit grandma’s apartment.  Once we are in the apartment, it is a more enclosed space and ten times more chaotic because the kids can’t touch half of the things she has in the apartment even though they are within kids’ reach and they are so tempting to touch (kittens, dolls, statues, glass – I mean come on!!!).  

How is it that I always played with the same toys over and over again every time I visited grandma, and seemed to enjoy my time but these kids cannot play with a game for five minutes without wanting something different?  Could it be the parents are to blame?  Probably, just a little…  hehehe.  What can I say?  My biggest goal in parenting when Maria was born was to give her the freedom to do what she wanted and learn from her actions.  I did not want to stifle her.  But I see now that there is a limit; they are going to be seeing that limit a lot more from me!    

 

Maria in her grandma "get-up"!

However, they have gotten better at grandma’s through the multitude of times we have gone over to see her.  They played in her bedroom writing with her pencils and punching her calculator.  Maria put on her sweater and a bag on her head and acted like her.  Grandma stays very calm through it all – she only gets worried when they get near her pills.  I think that may be a valid concern.  

She took us down to her pool, which is perfect for the kids.  It is 3 feet high in most places.  Mario plays on the steps and Maria floats around the pool.  Maria got brave and even dove off the edge by herself.  She reminded me of Anna Quindlen’s little girl, Maria, who is my Maria’s namesake.  Quindlen wrote a Newsweek article about her daughter at age 16 – so intrepid and filled with adventure.  That was my girl yesterday – embracing something new and a little scary.  After an hour swim, we headed back to the room for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, vanilla wafers, butter cookies, and hershey kisses.  Who could ask for a better feast?!  

Mario loving the pool

We took grandma to Kroger’s to get her weekly stash of food (it is a 45 minute ordeal for about six food items but at age 90, I am still impressed), and then we headed to Blue Ash pool for some more swimming.  Mario LOVES Blue Ash pool with all of the fountains and slide and cushion bottom.  Maria, as I stated earlier, would rather stay in the confines of her own neighborhood but she agreed to come if there was pizza and popcorn at the pool.  After an hour and a half, I thought I may pass out from exhaustion so we packed up and traveled back to Grandma Lolo’s to pack up.  A bath, treadmill walk, popsicle, and golf game later, we were in the car waving goodbye to grandma and grandpa and accelerating the Volvo north to Columbus.  

We ended the trip with songs from Free to Be You and Me.  Maria has fallen in love with the CD much to my pleasure.  She loves the song about friends and the talking babies.  When the song “Parents are People” comes on, she yells “Mom, this is for you!”  

I was so exhausted when we walked in the door at 6:30 Friday night.  I could barely drag myself upstairs to lay down.   Luckily, Mario stayed asleep during the transfer from the car to the crib.  A little blessing from above.  Of course, he was up at 1 am standing next to my bed crying “Mommy, I sleep with you.”  The rest of the night I might as well have been doing laundry, cleaning the house, finishing up work, because he kept me wide awake between complaining that his leg hurt or he needed water or he wanted to watch tv.  At about 2:45 am, I thought I might jump out the window just to be able to sleep in the bushes below – broken legs/arms and all – it would be better than sleep deprivation.  But, we survived as always and were up and playing airplane on the bed at 7 am.  

Ahh, did I really ever sleep in until 8 am?