Tag: Maria

Maria’s 5th B-day

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Maria opening her Leapster b-day present

Maria turned 5 on May 2. It was official at 2:41 pm – I still remember laying on that hospital bed five years ago,seeing her head crown in the mirror, and getting that last burst of energy to push her out. And then … swoosh!  There she was…my daughter with her black hair and pug nose and tiny, sweet, doll-baby body.  And now here I was looking at that little munchball turning five.  My heart skipped beats throughout  the day thinking about her getting a year closer to teenage-hood.  Or, in looking back at that day, it could have been skipping due to the 21 kids we had running through our tiny house that afternoon.
  
I had been planning Maria’s soiree since she had decided to have her party at our house.  She wanted to invite all of her school friends, prior school friends, cousins, and neighborhood friends.  I had hoped that she would want it at a gym (like last year) or a pool – anywhere other than our tiny house!  But she is a home body, and she wanted it nowhere other than her own home.  And, she wanted a “girl” party with make-overs and nail polish and hair-dos.  But she also wanted to invite boys.

Maria taking charge at her b-day party

 
I spent hours perusing the internet for games and ideas for an at-home party.  It did not hit me until that day at how insane it was for me to research “how to have a party” for a five-year old.  Some of the sites were so intense that they had the party routine down to 15 minute increments (play hot potato from 1 to 1:15 and then move onto crafts  from 1:15 to 1:30 but don’t go to far over 1:30 because you will want to have room for the princess dance from 1:30 to 1:50…).  My psyche knew when to slow me down and I ended up picking only one game from my review of different sites and kept myself from going crazy by not trying to plan out every second of the day.
 
The kiddies and their parents began to arrive right at 2 pm.  Our humble 1200 square foot home remained in good spirits as people continued to step inside.  The girls bolted up to the bedroom for make-up and nails and hair.  I felt a little awkward at first because some kids did not know the others and some mothers the same,  Also, Maria immediately glued herself to certain girls and not others.  
 
“Come on, Ri, pay attention to all your guests.”
 
“I am mom!”
 
Eventually, I had that talk with my neurotic inner self and let go of my anxiety around everyone talking and knowing one another.  I just let it all be, and god, was it refreshing.  I found that as soon as I let it all go, I saw all the girls chatting and laughing; I saw parents engaging in lively conversation.  It really can come down to what colored glasses you choose to wear.     

Mario trying to break open the pinata

The boys of the group enjoyed the bouncy house that we had rented at the last-minute (a godsend!).  The weather held out for the first hour so the kids got to enjoy bouncin’ and running around the yard and the parents were able to head outside rather than squeeze in our kitchen and living room.  We even got to use the pinata I got from my Aunt Christina!  Of course, my dad and Jon had to get out their pocket knives and rip into the poor pinata in order to get it to open but we did make the kids close their eyes during that part!

  
Mario was the ultimate clingy son (he had stayed a couple of days with grandma and grandpa i. so he was wanting his mommy non-stop when he came home).  But once he saw the princess make-up, nails, and hair-dos happening upstairs, he became intrigued and went all out in goth black nail and toe polish and red lipstick smeared all over his lips, chin, and sides of his face).  We had princess tattoos for the girls and batman ones for the fellows – that was a hit that I did not expect (Mario still has his on his right arm after eight days). 
 
Maria became a tad overwhelmed toward the end of the party while opening her presents.  There were way too many gifts to open due to the amount of kids who came.  Next year, I have resolved to find a way to limit the gifts – maybe have families donate to their favorite cause or Maria’s favorite cause?  Who knows – I just don’t want to see 25 gifts in the living room for one little girl! 

Proud owner of a Barbie!

 
 Nonetheless, Maria was her sweet self and opened all of the presents and gave hugs and kisses to all of her friends (and very much enjoyed all of the presents that she got since the majority centered around barbies or make-up or princesses).  Of course, that was tempered after the party when I told her that she could not open a particular present until later.  She glared at me and said “I didn’t like my party, mom, and I don’t like you!”  Yeah, she is only 5.  I am in for it. 
 
But within 15 minutes she was back in my arms showing me her new musical jewelry box with the tiny fairy dancer – very similar to the one I used to have as a young girl – and I took full advantage of that moment with her knowing that it was too precious to take for granted.     
 
 
 

Maria blowing out those five magical candles and wishing for???

Sunday Run

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Maria hammin' it up

It was 10 am Sunday and we had played barbies, read books, ate cereal, and played “boathouse” when I decided to take a run.  NPR’s “Wait Wait, Don’t Tell Me” is on at 10 am on Sundays and I look forward to a 45 minute run while listening to that show.  Unfortunately, my children wanted nothing of the sort.  They both completely broke down when they saw me changing into my running gear.  

“No, mommy, please don’t run.  Please take us, mommy.”  

Mario enjoying his "horsey"

 

Maria chimed in “You told us no running today, mom.” 

To her credit, she is correct.  I usually say that on Saturday morning when I get up for my Saturday morning workout – “don’t worry, guys, I will not go tomorrow.”  Typically, it works out that I don’t go on Sundays but this was one Sunday that I could get out.  

Within 45 seconds, both of them had huge, heartbreaking tears running down their faces and were clinging to me as if it was my last day with them on Earth.  Jon kept pushing me to go and I wanted to so badly but…  I just couldn’t.  Call me weak, call me a sucker, call me a push-over.  I am probably all of them.  But, I could not leave them.  

So, they asked for it.  They got bundled up, I threw them in the stroller, and we were off.  When we first took off, I was hesitant to go too far because I had not run with them in the stroller for a while and my left IT band is killing me.  But, next thing I know, we are on the bike trail, playing the ABC game and looking at birds chirping up in still bare trees.  We strolled up to Route 33, which I thought would make them yell “That is enough mom” (it is about 2 miles from home) but instead they wanted more so we kept trekking.  We landed at Bicentennial Park with the statues that we used to visit when I worked downtown and they went to school downtown.  

Mario's serious pose

 

Maria remembered all of the statues, she remembered the “Dora Boat” (Santa Maria boat)’ she remembered going on the boat with her dad and me years ago and seeing different zoo animals they were displaying at the same time.  Her memory is amazing, but then again I guess she is only four (almost five!) and does not have nearly as much crud sitting in there as I do!  We played around, climbed on the statues, talked about which animal we would be if we had a choice, met a police officer passing by, and watched the geese and ducks in the river.  Finally, it was time to head back and I just kept praying that my right leg would hold up and that M&M would not pitch a fit half way back screaming that they were hungry or wanted to walk or needed water.  

To my surprise, we all made it.  We were about two blocks away when a clap of lightning stuck and little rain droplets starting falling on our heads.  

“Hurry Mom, we have to get home!  The rain is coming! Go faster!” 

We made it to the porch without getting soaked.  I got a round of “high-fives” when I get M&M out of the stroller and we headed into the house ready for lunch and a long, rainy-day nap.

Kindergarten Round-Up and the Certainty of Uncertainty

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Kindergarten Round Up for Maria

My baby girl,pumpkin seed, doll baby, mama chicka enthusiastically walked through the kindergarten doors last week for Kindergarten Round-Up day.  I ate up her excitement because I had been worried that she would be nervous or frightened about heading somewhere “new.”  However, she has been talking about getting “older” for two years now and dreaming about wearing make-up, having girlfriends to talk about boyfriends, going out to the movies and to dinner, talking on the telephone – you name it.  Not as though these events will occur at kindergarten (or grade school for that matter) but it gets her one step closer to it all. 

As she let go of my hand and headed into the monstrous, overpowering kindergarten classroom, I wondered what she would get out of the year to come. What habits would be formed?  Who would her role models be?  Would she make good friends with some great girls?  When would she have her first slumber party?  Would she have an interest in science or math?  Would she continue to be close with me? 

I was awakened from my daydreaming by a cheerful lady who asked me to come downstairs with the rest of the parents for a parent orientation by the principal.  The principal was energetic and funny and warm and endearing and quickly made me feel at ease with taking Maria to the school everyday in the Fall.  But because of that, I started thinking about me.  What would I do when Maria was in “school” (not just daycare) everyday and meeting friends and branching out on her own and not “needing” me anymore?  What would I do when I went in and jumped on her bed to kiss her one morning and she yelled “Mom, stop!”  What would I do when she did not beg to go everywhere with me, when she was content with eating dinner on her own or going to the park without me by her side?

I attended a lecture by James Hollis last night.  His lecture grabbed me several times.  But at one point he spoke about the need to be comfortable with ambiguity.  The more you crave certainty, the more you will lead yourself down a path of disappointment, doubt, and frustration.  Fifteen years ago, I would have never imagined I would have married my husband – I swore the first time I met him that he was not the right one.  Two years later, I looked at his big “claw” hands that had turned me off when we first met, and I could not imagine being with a man who did not have those strong, powerful hands to hold me, lift our children, mow our yard.  Six years ago, I was certain that I would not get pregnant.  Fertility did not work, my periods were wacky and non-existent at times, we already had a dog that needed attention.  But then, there she was.  Ms. Maria Grace tumbling around in my belly, poking her feet at my side, making me nauseous at the thought or toothpaste or Tums.  And Mr. Mario, two years later, making me crave sushi (and not being able to eat it) and creating waves across my belly for his older sis to feel.   Thank god there is not certainty in this world. 

As for Maria, I told her the other day that I am not sure what class will be like, I am not sure how many people will be in her class, I am not sure about what they do for recess.  Her response was “that’s ok, mom, I will find out when I go there.”  There ya have it – another lesson from my almost 5-year-old!

Sleeping Beauties

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We can spend forty-five minutes trying to get them to bed, absolutely exhausted and irritated at their hyperactivity and zeal at 9 pm at night (and with little to no naps!).  There comes that tipping point, like in the movie Terms of Endearment, when Debra Winger’s sons are walking out to the car with her and her interested man.  The sons try to ask her a question and she politely asks them to go to the car and wait for her.  They do not listen and ask again, and with a little more irritation in her voice she responds “go wait at the car hunny.”  They ask yet again and she finally bursts out “GO WAIT AT THE CAR HUNNY!”   

I remember laughing so hard at that scene when I was a teenager not having any clue that such a scene would be my life in my thirties with two kids.   Actually, I guess that scene does not occur very often… I think back to Debra Winger’s acting and wonder if it was that hard for her to act that scene out or whether she just imagined her own kids doing that and nature took over. 

I pulled a Debra Winger the other night with M&M when I was trying to get them to go down to sleep.  Maria had chosen a book to read, which we did as Mario ran around the room pointing guns at us and threatening us with his plastic sword.  Then it was Mario’s turn. 

“Get a book Mario, and then it is bedtime.”

He  continued to play Ninja.  

“Ok, bedtime, then.”

“No, Mommy.  Book.”

“Get your book, then, Mario.”

He continued to run around chasing Maria with his sword.

“Get your book, Mario,” I pronounced a little more emphatically.

He stayed the course of chasing Maria with his sword.

“Mario, GET YOUR BOOK OR ELSE BEDTIME NOW!”

He placed the sword down on the chair and got Clifford.   Maybe I just need to start at that tone right away?

After reading and rocking, I finally got to head downstairs for some peace.  I wrote, ate some ice cream, and trekked back upstairs to call it a night.  And what did I find? 

Mario sleeping with his two obligatory binkies

 

Those boisterous, high-energy children sleeping like little fairies in their beds.  Maria had even changed into one of my old silk nighties (that I got for my wedding!), which made me just want to eat her up.  It is funny how your mind lets all the irritations and anger slip away in one quick second after seeing little babes resting like this.  I guess it is nature’s way of protecting the young.  Make sure they look sweet and angelic shortly after their tirades so mom and dad stick around another day. 

Smart move.

My little fairy

Easter Madness

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M & M hit the Easter Egg Hunt

 

We started our Easter weekend with a trip to Grandview’s Wyman Woods for the annual Easter Egg Hunt on Saturday at 10:00 am.  We had some friends ready to “take us on” in the hunt so we had to prep ourselves up beforehand with stretches and lunges and body jabs.  We will do anything for chocolate, after all.  Especially chocolate easter bunnies with their cute little faces that you can bite off.  There had to be two hundred kids there, some dressed up in bunny ears or tails, some still in their pjs, some in their “Sunday best” to have their picture taken with the freak mammoth bunny in the corner of the park all dressed up in pink and white and bouncing around waving at the kids (and surely cussing every other second about how hot the damn outfit was or how obnoxious the kids are).  

The kids were very patient waiting behind the line while staring at all of the Oreo packages, Reese Peanut Butter Egg packages, and brightly colored eggs with loads of candy inside of them. Finally, the whistle blew and they were off.  Well, the four-year olds were off.  The hunt was for 2 to 4 year olds.  The 2 year olds seemed loss in a daze or a stupor.  “Why are all of these kids running around like maniacs picking litter off the ground?”  But, that was taken care of in a few seconds as all of the parents of these 2 year olds (including moi) started yelling at them: “Over here. Get this one. Hurry!”  

Mario digging in

 

You would have thought that a check for college tuition was in the egg rather than a hershey kiss.  Mario 

Ri enjoying that chocolate

 

managed to get a few eggs, which he proceeded to open and devour every piece of chocolate he found in them.  Bill, one of our friends, gently approached Mario and asked him for a piece of chocolate.  

“NO!” Mario yelled at him.  “This is my candy.”  

Maria, on the other hand, took two whole packages of Oreo cookies and gave one to Bill and another to Heather who had mentioned that she loved those cookies.  What a sweetheart – hopefully, Mario will learn from her!  

Both M & M made the wise choice of not seeing the Easter Bunny.  We went home and showed off our candy to dad who just shook his head knowing that belly aches were surely to come (and not just to the kids!).  Later that night, we visited Grandma and Grandpa Ionno and Jon’s brother and sister-in-law and their two boys.  Maria has a complete crush on both the boys and hung on them all night (they, in turn, played with her as much as they did not want to at times – god love ’em).  Mario enjoyed playing with the older boy’s nerf gun and pretending he was being shot (lovely boys).  Grandma Ionno made her killer cookies, as always.  Why is it so hard to just eat a couple?  I devoured a dozen through the evening alongside Maria who has inherited my love for eating.    

Off to the Hunt

 

On Sunday, we woke up to another egg hunt but this one at our very own house.  I set out the eggs while Jon held the hunters at bay upstairs.  M&M ran out in their pjs just as I remember doing as a little girl and as I remember Sarah doing as a young girl.  The enthusiasm and excitement I felt as a little girl on Easter morning came back watching Maria and Mario hunt around for their eggs.  I loved seeing their face beam as they found an egg.  Oh, the memories!  

Maria finding "My Little Pony!"

 

Mario showing it off

 

We then took off for Cincy at 9:30 am.  We first went to my cousin Kerry’s house.  She lives in northern Cincy with her husband and two kids.  They are fairly close in age to M&M with Anneliese being 6 and Ben being 2.  Maria idolizes Anneliese, and loves to go to her house because she has a kickin’ toy room.  Mario enjoys Ben’s ball collection, and he loved the sticks and trees in the backyard.  My uncle made the most incredible coffee cake for brunch and pecan chocolate pie.  He has the Menkedick sweet tooth just like me.  We envied their house because it has so much open space and light and an awesome family room in the basement.  Oh, what I would give for a family room!  Dad and Meg brought Duke along (their new dog), which caused much glee in M&M who have been waiting to meet him for a whole week (“it felt like a year, mom!”).  

Maria and Anneliese enjoying the swing

 

After eating way too much food (including insanely gorgeous red velvet cupcakes with cream cheese icing ala Meg-pie), we hopped in the truck to head to Grandma Heile’s house (now owned by my cousin Laura since Grandma died last Summer).  Maria was all excited because she had on a gorgeous Easter dress that she knew all of her girl cousins were adore (she loves dressing up for them because they ogle over her all day!).  Mario was excited because Robert and Cy, our high school boy cousins, would be there and he could stand in awe of them playing basketball and toss the ball with them.   Maria got the attention she expected and she even scored some potato salad from Aunt Jane (her absolute favorite food after pasta and meatballs!).  Mario got to throw the volleyball to us after each play (although he would only throw it to Robert most times).  

We had yet another Easter Egg hunt in the big side yard and 

The chosen few for the egg hunt

 

Baby Grace (my cousin Liz’s sweet baby daughter) got the $5 egg (it is tradition to put out one egg with $5 in it).  When Maria found out, she plopped down on the grass and pouted “I wanted that egg.”  I explained to her that it is fun to see Baby Grace get it; besides, she needs diapers and that will help buy them.  Somehow, that explanation resonated with her and she agreed it was best for Baby Grace to get the $5.  Anyway, it meant more candy for her!   

Maria nabbing the eggs

 

Speaking of candy, that is simply all Mario cared about and frantically opened his eggs yelling “Candy Party” each time more candy fell out.  I am surprised that he was not constipated for five days from all the chocolate he devoured.  

We left Laura’s house at 8:30 pm and headed back to Columbus.  The kids were nearly comatose in the backseat staring at the tv. I was picking through the Easter baskets unwrapping random candies and plopping them in my mouth until my belly did start to ache.  Jon drove us all home safely.  It was a busy, magical weekend. 

Mario basking in the chocolate

My blossoming feminist

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Maria relaxing at the doctor's office waiting for her female doctor

We read a book tonight called “Baby Wanna Be”, which is geared towards little babies but Mario still enjoys reading it.  Actually, I think he just knows that I will read it even after I have said “no more books” because it is a short read and easy to understand (hence, not a trillion questions coming at me with every page).  We flipped past the Babby Wanna Be Firefighter and Policeman pages and moved onto Babby Wanna Be Doctor and Nurse pages.  The doctor was a boy baby and the nurse was a girl baby.  I asked what Maria and Mario wanted to be when they got older.  Mario ignored me (he was too busy twirling around like a spinning top and shouting craziness) but Maria answered.  “Why is the doctor a boy and the nurse a girl?  I want to act like the nurse is a doctor and I want to be her.” 

Having fun at school

There it is!  All my years of instilling that feminist spirit in her has paid off in droves.  I have talked with her for years about the Gloria Steinem autograph I got for her when she was a young girl, and what Gloria Steinem did for women’s rights.  I have made sure to point out that women can do anything men can do (and usually better) especially when a picture shows only men (typically seen in books about astronauts, cowboys, sports figures).  I have reinforced that she is brilliant and caring and feisty and strong.  Now, this must be balanced with the comment she made last night while at Panera.  She saw a newspaper advertisement for a strip club of a woman with huge breasts cupping her hands over them and wearing little rhinestone underwear (yes, I now have to monitor the newspaper basket at Panera).  She held it up giggling and commented “This girl’s boobs are really big, and I love her underwear!”  She appreciates working hard and being smart but also having fun, I guess….??!  Of course, Mario’s response was to yell throughout Panera “Ria, show me those boobs again!”  Thank goodness it was packed with twenty-something college kids who were rolling in their seats over these antics.  

So, there you have it.  A proud moment for a mama whose own mama and stepmom and mom-in-law and little sister have ingrained in her the importance of independence and strength and determination and self-empowerment.  It is flowing right along to the next generation, thank goodness.

Much More Than Attitude

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Maria sporting attitude

Maria and Mario have never been shy about their feelings.  If I upset Maria, she stomps away, sighing heavily, and usually blurting out some mean-spirited comment like “I don’t like you, Mom!”  If I upset Mario, he points his finger at me, crunches up his face until he looks like a 90-year-old man, and yells “No, mom, get away from me – I am mad!” 

I teeter on the edge with my response to these blow-ups.  Do I tell them that they may not yell at me when I sometimes yell at them and when they are, after all, part Italian (us Germans have no problem with anger management!)?  Do I allow them to yell but not make mean comments?  Do I let them get it all out and then ignore them until they calm down?  

 I err on the side of letting them vent but then I think about when they grow up and Maria is 30 years old in the corporate conference center yelling at the top of her lungs at her staff because they got her a coffee with three sugars instead of four or Mario playing in the finals of the World Cup and starting a  brawl with an opposing team member because he made a snide comment about Mario’s girlfriend while running down the field.  But is there a better result if I shut them up from the beginning? A heart attack from too much anger build-up? Fear of speaking their mind?  

 

Mario showing his attitude

I remember the “pre-kids” time of my life when I would be talking with friends who had their own children.  I spouted out all sorts of advice to their dilemmas: “I would smack their butt and put them in the corner; I would make them take a time-out for 15 minutes; I would take away a favorite toy: I would never let them talk to me that way.”  Oh yeah, that is a good one.  As if we have any control over that last one.  But what did I know?  It is not until those little munchballs arrive into your circle of life that you realize that all the advice and pre-conceived notions you had about motherhood and children was ridiculously naive. 

Just like I believe that it is impossible for me to understand the pain and exhilaration a triathlete must feel at the end of a competition, it is impossible to step into the shoes of a mom until you become one yourself.  You second guess all of the “sure-fire” advice you gave to your mom-friends in the past.  You worry about nearly every decision you make.    

So, in the end, I don’t think there is any “right” answer on how to deal with these “attitude” problems besides go with my intuition at the time of the incident and not doubt myself for the next five hours.  One thing I know for sure: Maria and Mario are happy kids.  They enjoy life.  They feel.  Surely, they get mad, sad, and disappointed, and they express it.  But they also, much more often, get excited, delirious, and captivated, and seeing them fully expressive in those states comforts me with the thought that I am doing something right.        

My Happy Girl

My Happy Boy

Four year old Hosts Baby Shower

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Maria "Wonder Woman" getting ready for the big event

Maria had been waiting for my mom’s stepdaughter’s baby shower for a month.  There was not five spare minutes that went by that she did not pose a question or a thought about it:

What games should we play?”

Papa Rod needs to ask his daughter, Kristen, what cake she likes to eat so we get the right kind.” 

“I think we should buy lotions and lipstick for the people who win the games.  I think we should buy “I love Cincinnati stickers, too, because they live in Cincinnati.”

She came home from school in the evening and made lists of the games we could play and the gifts we could buy.  She thought hard about what inscription should be on the cake. 

“I got it, mom” she exclaimed on afternoon.  “Happy Birth and Love Your Baby.”  Perfect. 

We had to drive down to Cincy on Saturday evening in order to ensure that we were there first thing Sunday morning to decorate and get the food together.  Unfortunately, both Maria and Mario slept horribly and we all looked like walking zombies at 7 am when we dragged ourselves out of bed.  Maria had thought of Sunday like Christmas and was simply too anxious to sleep.  Mario, on the other hand, just decided to be a rascal and move around all night restless and ornery.  Nonetheless, there was no time to rest – we had a party at 2 pm!  Maria was engaged and ready.  She reviewed all of the decorations and got us to work.  Task master at age four. 

Maria directing the troops as she guarded the "big" gift

“The streamers should go right there.  The centerpiece right there.  Give me the baby favors – I will put them over here.” 

After the decorating ended, she moved on to the food and drink. 

“What food did Grandma get? Did she get pop for everyone?  Where are the plates and cups?”

Martha Stewart had to have swept into her body for the last month and set up camp.  She was unreal.  When we finally got everything together, she made a run over to my Aunt Julie’s house for some last-minute “make-up” (blush and lipstick) and new hair-do.  She promptly returned to greet the guests and play an impeccable hostess.  Meanwhile, her brother acted insane as usual.  We thought he had gone out the door to play with marbles only to hear him coming down the stairs and see him at the foot of the stairs with no pants on, butt-naked.  Before we could blink, he darted to the middle of the room and yelled “Naked Party!”  Maria, playing the good hostess, immediately shooed him up the stairs and reprimanded him along the way: “Mario, you cannot come downstairs without any pants on little boy!” 

Mario "the Rascal" posing for the ladies

Maria helped me with all of the games – holding the string while people guessed the length of string to go around Kristen’s belly; yelling out the type of food in the baby jars; and passing out presents to the winners of the game. But Maria’s most impressive act was assisting me in passing out the cake and ice cream to ALL of the guests before she sat down to eat any herself.  A truly selfless act because she loves sheet cake as much as her mama!  Mario, meanwhile, continued to dart around the room shouting nonsense and flirting with the guests. 

The shower ended, the guests left.  We packed up our stuff and loaded our bodies into the car.  We were absolutely, undeniably exhausted.  We had managed to pack into a 24 hour period of time a trip to the outlet malls, two trips to parks (one to Blue Ash and one to Reading where I used to go as a kid); two trips to Aunt Laura’s house; a trip to Grandma Menkedick’s house; a trip to the store; and a baby shower! 

We are going to feel like we stepped into molasses this weekend because we have nothing planned.  Ahh, no complaints from us.

From Ecstatic to Miserable in less than 5 seconds

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I decided to take Maria out to lunch this afternoon.  She has been begging me to pick her up from school and take her out to lunch since allegedly all of her other friends at school have parents that pick them up for lunch all the time (yes, I found out when I picked her up tonight that rarely anyone gets picked up just for lunch – she is already working me!).  I walked into her room, and unfortunately, she had just finished lunch.  I had not promised her I would be able to get her and I had not told her teachers I Iwas coming because they usually eat at 12:30 and I had picked her up at noon. 

Of course, this was the only day that they decided to eat early.  Maria did not share in my distress about her already eating – when I asked her if we should do it another day, she looked at me strangely and stated “Mom, I can eat again, silly!” 

Jon joined us on our way out the school door, and we went to Bob Evans.  We sat at the counter where Maria and Jon sit when they have their father-daughter dinners.  Maria beamed.  We decided to split  pancakes.  When the waitress asked Maria is she wanted bacon or sausage with her pancakes, she responded “Both.”  God love her.  Then we asked her if she was happy to come out with Jon and I and she exclaimed “Yes, I get another lunch!” 

After lunch, I took her in the stroller to the pet store and Target.  She sported a smile the entire way over to the stores letting me know what a great day it was for her.  We said hello to all of the turtles, snakes, rats, ferrets, cats, and dogs and then made our way to Target.  

“Mom, can I get a toy since I have been good this week?”  (Earlier in the week I had got her a toy because she had to endure four shots in one outing as part of her physical for kindergarten).  I explained to her, as I always have to do, that we do not automatically get toys every time we go to Target.  She blew me off and headed to the toy section.  She looked at barbies and baby dolls, sporadically calling out “I want this one, mom” but then moving on to a new thing within two seconds.  I told her I would get her something small (Yes, I have to learn to say “no” to anything – I am a work in progress).   I knew there was nothing she truly “wanted” or “needed” so I tried to reason with her to hold off on a toy until next time so we could get something bigger and better.  Yeah, right. 

We turned the corner to look in the doll section and there it was….  The Leapster.  The beautiful, glowing Leapter that she has been wanting for a few weeks now, especially because her cousin has one and she got a taste of it last weekend when her cousin brought it over with her.  She looked at me with those pleading, droopy eyes and puckered lips and begged “Please mommy, please.”  I responded with an understanding look and gave her hope by telling her that dad and I were thinking about getting her a Leapster for her birthday. 

“I want one now, mom.”

“Maria, that is a lot of money.  You may get one for your birthday.”

“No, mom, it will be gone by then.  I need it now.” 

“No Maria.”

WIth that second affirmation of “no”, she stomped down the aisle huffing “ugh!” the entire way.  I tried to console her but she would have nothing of it. 

“Get away from me mom.” 

I knew I should have let it go, after all she is four and a half years old – what behavior do I expect?  Nonetheless, I couldn’t help but feel sad and disappointed by her behavior. Here she had been treated to an afternoon out of school, a yummy lunch, a trip to the pet store and now she was acting like I was an evil witch.  How is that fair?  And now what do we do?  Leave to head back to school mad and grumpy?  I was so irritated me that I had taken off two hours from work and she was going to end our time being angry and grumpy.  

I immediately fast forwarded time to her teenage years knowing that this was a harbinger of what was to come.  Indeed, I remember how I was with my folks at that age.  So, I am going to have to learn that this is part of having a kid – you do all you can for them, you give them your entire being at times, and they still treat you as if you have failed to do anything for them since the day they were born.  Shake it off and don’t take it personally.  Impossible but necessary.

We ended up finding an ice cream game that I thought would be fun for her and Mario to play.  She calmed down and we had an enjoyable walk back to school even spotting a hedgehog at the bank of the river.  We gave our good-bye kisses after reading a book and I was off back to work.  I convinced myself on the way to work that I needed to be strong and not try to be Maria’s best friend.  I needed to teach her that she did not “need” toys all the time, that she had to learn that everything was not at her fingertips, and that she needed to have an appreciation for all she had in life.  In doing so, it was inevitable that she snipped at me, got mad at me, told me things I did not want to hear.  I will just call my mom and stepmom during those times and have them remind me how horrible I was back in the day! 

When I came back to the daycare later that afternoon, Maria was happy and running around with her friends.  Mario was also in a pleasant mood (Fridays are great).  His teacher grabbed me as soon as I went outside to get him.  “You have to see this!”  She asked Mario to come over and she engaged in the following dialogue with him:

“Hey Mario”

“What?” he responds.

“Hey Mario”

“What?” he repeats.

“Shake you booty.”

“No way!” He shouts.

“Shake your botty!” 

“Ok!” he shouts and jumps up shaking his booty and dancing around.  

It was hilarious, and I was so bummed that my video would not work on my phone.  He is such a lively, crazy little thing.  He comes up with the most hilarious sayings and engages in the silliest antics.  Our little jokester.  But, I am quite sure he will be pouting in Target someday soon, and I will feel that same sadness I felt with Maria today.  But today built up some resistance, and I have a sneaking susupicion that I will have plenty of times to build up even more resistance in the near future.

The Muscle

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When Maria was at her old school, she had a girlfriend named Belle.  Belle and Maria met when they were infants together in the Infant Room and they moved from room to room together as they got older.  Belle was always, from infant through preschool years, as tiny as a sprite.  Maria, on the other hand, was always, from infant through preschool years, as thick and strong as a professional bodyguard.  She protected Belle as if it was her full-time profession.  If any kid approached Belle, they better be ready to let Maria know what they needed. Maria would make the call of whether the kid got what they needed or had to move on.  And Belle was absolutely fine with this arrangement.  If a kid picked on Belle, she knew Maria had her back and would either have strong words with the kid or toss the kid on his backside. 

Maria and Belle at Valentine's Day, 2007

When Belle had a birthday party at age 3, Maria happily came over to her house.  As we were watching them play, and we noticed Maria strong arming one of the kids so Belle could get a toy of her choice, Belle’s dad stated “That is Maria.  She is “The Muscle.” At first, I was offended.  All of these other little, tiny, frail children in the room with my strong, thick, athletic darling, and she gets called “The Muscle.” But after no time at all, I took it as a compliment.  She protects; she comforts; she is loyal.  

Maria has since left Belle and moved onto a new daycare where there is no “Belle” to protect.  However, she has moved on to a closer blood line.  Her brother.  You could describe him as a little sprite, also.  Or an “imp” as his grandma calls him.  No matter how you describe him, he could definitely use some “Muscle” and luckily, Maria is willing to provide it. 

When the daycare had a family fun night, they got a bouncy tent and the kids jumped in it five at a time.  Maria and Mario waited patiently for their turn, and when they got in, three other kids a little older than Maria got in with them.  One of the kids, a bigger boy, accidentally jumped into Mario as he lost his balance.  Maria immediately swung up her arm and stopped him from knocking Mario over and then shouted at him “This is my brother! Get away!”  She pulled Mario over to the corner of the tent so they could jump in peace. 

Maria watching over her brother early on

When I went to pick up Maria and Mario this evening, Maria was outside on the playground with her class.  They had just taken out bikes and scooters to ride around the playground.  Mario ran outside after seeing this and started crying because he did not have a bike to ride.  I explained to him that it was Maria’s class’ turn to ride bikes and that we could ride one when we got home.  He had nothing to do with me and continued to sulk and cross his tiny arms.  Maria watched all of this and I could see her observing with great intent all of the kids on bicycles on the playground.  After about three minutes, Mario went over to the jungle gym and began climbing.  Just then, Katherine got off her bike.  You would have thought Maria had a firecracker in her pants.  She darted over to that bike and jumped on it yelling “Mario, I got you a bike!”  Mario squealed with joy.  He began to jump on it when another little girl from Maria’s class, Sydney, tried to grab it.  The Muscle was ready for this development, and pushed Sydney’s hand away firmly stating “No, Sydney, this is a bike for my brother.”  Mario stayed in place waiting to see if he could take off.  Maria then called out “Go, Mario, ride that bike!” and so he did.  I caught wind of this whole scenario and told Maria that Sydney should get the bike because it was her class’ turn.  Maria looked at me and convincingly stated “I gave my turn to Mario so he should be able to ride it.”  When I finally made him dismantle, she was still protesting that he should be able to continue to ride it because “he is my brother and he wants to ride.”  Loyal to the end. 

Best buddies

Mario is a lucky sucker to have his “Muscle” around nearly all the time, and the Muscle has had an influence on him.  Although he does not pack it the way Maria does, he is tiny and mighty.  When I or my husband firmly tell Maria to do something or raise our voice at her, he darts in from the adjoining room, jabs us in the leg, and commands “That is my sister!”  Maria is not only the Muscle but also seems to be the Teacher.