Chronicles of Oksnernia

Love the Honesty

2012-01-24T17:08:00.000-08:00

When I draw their bath with extra warm water, I tell the boys that I am making Jayden & Seanie Stew. Then we laugh about how yummy (or gross!) that would taste.

Last night, Sean announced, "I don't think you want to eat the stew, mommy. I just peed in it."

Why, Mommy?

2012-01-22T20:50:00.000-08:00

I am a sensitive soul. Must be the Pisces in me.

Typically, I cannot hear unbearably sad stories because I take them too close to heart. I would like to say this started after becoming a parent, when my heart suddenly started walking around outside of my body. But truthfully, I was an oversensitive kid. Somehow any story about tragedy or trauma just makes the world seem too cruel, too horrible to contemplate. I want to fix it in any way I can. And sometimes, we can't fix it and the ensuing helplessness is...distressing.

The story of Why, Mommy? over at Toddler Planet is heartbreaking in its unfairness. How can a mother of a 4 and 6 year-old be allowed to have cancer? But it is also inspiring in how far Susan Niebur has come in educating the public about inflammatory breast cancer. Her struggle won't be in vain because she has an Army of Princesses continuing her fight.

Some women are so inspiring, just by being.

Toot, Toot

2012-01-13T20:49:00.000-08:00

Remember the Central Coast Autism Spectrum Center? How, Dear Readers, could you possibly forget, when I am touting the place and hounding you constantly to support it?! Well, don't worry, the WALK isn't until April, so I won't be making any harassing/pleading posts until then.

This post is to invite anyone on the Central Coast to attend a very special event coming up later this month:

Stand Up! for Autism
7 p.m. January 28th at Cuesta College in San Luis Obispo

For a mere $20, you can come and hear hilarious comediennes, stroll the silent auction, and help honor the people who help make the Center tick. Including, if I may toot my own horn, yours truly. (Dave and I are line #6 on the list of honorees at the link above).

See you there??

Today I Ate a Rainbow! Or At Least, I Will...

2012-01-11T13:38:00.001-08:00

I am not typically one to use this blog to shill (I know, stupid, stupid, stupid!) But this time around, I had to share an awesome program we discovered through my online mom's group:

http://www.todayiatearainbow.com/

It is called "Today I Ate a Rainbow" and was created (surprise, surprise!) by a mom who couldn't get her picky kid to pick the right foods. Said mom was a pretty picky eater herself so she was doubly motivated to figure out a solution. The "Today I Ate a Rainbow" program comes with a large multi-colored magnet board that lists different fruits and vegetables under each color of the rainbow. It also comes with four different shapes of magnets that fit each color. Our kit had stars, squares, triangles, and circles. Dave and I got the plain shapes (circles and triangles, respectively); Jayden snatched up the stars; and Seanie happily took the squares.

Now each day, the boys are conscious of "filling their rainbow." Jayden has to eat however much I have set out for him in order to get a magnet for any given color, while Sean usually has to eat a full serving. But sometimes when I am introducing a new fruit or veggie, they only have to take a bite to qualify.

Sean just finished lunch (that's the Blueberry Kid showing off his purply skin in the photo) and once upon a time, the request for him to try a cucumber would have been met with whines and wails.

Today, knowing he only had two colors left in his rainbow, he popped that cucumber slice in (without Ranch for dipping, no less!) and topped it off with some tomato pieces. He was so proud of completing his rainbow before dinnertime! And I am just happy to have a way to get them motivated to eat better.

The funniest part?

Dave and I are seeing how many fruits and veggies we're getting, too. And let's just say the kids aren't the only ones in the house who clearly need motivating!

Explaining Concepts

2011-11-30T22:21:00.000-08:00

I suppose this fits right in with the First World Problems post:

Recently after a potluck lunch at Sean's preschool, we had a mountain of food left over. The teacher suggested I take it to the local soup kitchen. On the drive over, I explained to Seanie that some people don't have homes and thus don't have kitchens or food to eat. So we were going to share OUR food so the homeless people could eat.

We park and I carry him in one arm and the enormous bowls of food in the other. We wandered through a throng of clients to find the front of the line and the buffet where the food would be placed.

"THIS IS FOR THE HOMELESS PEOPLE!" Sean screamed as I handed the bowls to the woman in charge.

Thanks, Kid. I think they got that.

Going from the Gut

2011-11-14T10:26:00.001-08:00

So, remember all the posts I made about Leaky Gut Syndrome and how I wanted to put Jayden on a Gluten Free/Casein Free (GF/CF) diet? I moaned and lamented that it would be impossible but oh so worth it in the end if it helped my kid. We spent hundreds of dollars on special GF foods and flours and then gave up the whole effort when Jayden went on a food strike.

Luckily I didn't give away all the GF flours as intended, because we're going to need them around here.

It seems that Jayden isn't the only one with a Leaky Gut. I went and saw a local food counselor and it seems that I have a gluten intolerance, as well.

Did you know that there is a whole spectrum of gluten intolerance? Not everyone is a hard-core celiac sufferer; some people exhibit random symptoms that wouldn't necessarily point to gluten intolerance. For instance, my hands have been so dry that the skin tears all the time. My skin is painful and the cuts don't heal very well. It gets to the point where I hesitate to do things that involve my hands. Well, you may not notice, but we use our hands a lot and that isn't a very sustainable strategy.

I am having all kinds of bloodwork done to pinpoint where I fall on the GI spectrum. So far (I am on Day 3) I am encouraged and motivated to make this work, as I really would like to have full use of my hands again! My long-term goal is to integrate a healthier diet into the house, then maybe (just maybe?!) the kids will follow seamlessly.

Any GF/CF folks out there with useful tips?!

Makes Fun of Stuff!

2011-11-14T10:23:00.001-08:00

I have my second review posted on Makes Fun of Stuff, where moms tell it like it is on a whole host of products. Input and comments welcome.

I Heart Trader Joe's

2011-11-07T17:05:00.000-08:00

Trader Joe and I have a complicated relationship. I am paying to put his kids through college and in return, he provides me with a grocery shopping experience every week that borders on the sublime.

The set-up usually works for us, but as with all complex relationships, sometimes we don't agree. Like when I find an item I adore and integrate into our home, only to find that it is discontinued when I need it most (I am talking about you, no-boil lasagna noodles!)

I know all the employees of our local store and I adore them all. There is the guy whose son also has Asperger's Syndrome -- he walked me through the aisles, advising me on what foods his son liked at Jayden's age, and providing me with tips on making it through mealtime.

There is the gal who is approximately my age and has two boys close to my boys' ages. I will forever be in her debt. One day she found me literally in tears by the hummus section, when I newly discovered that they had discontinued Jayden's only source of non-dairy protein: a black-lidded small package of original hummus. Bless this gal's heart: she found an identical black lid from another product in the back, scraped off the sticker from the new hummus packaging, and somehow cobbled it together enough to fool my un-foolable son.

Tonight's dinner comes courtesy of that tempting vixen at the demo station: Acorn Squash Stuffed with Cornbread.

Tell me your favorite Trader Joe's product and I will know that I have enough like-minded readers out there to merit re-posting the recipe. I took a photo of the final results because it looked so good. It turned out a little salty, but very very tasty. I paired it with a homemade vegan pumpkin soup. Because I can't give Joe all the credit all the time!

What is your favorite Trader Joe's product?

First-World Problems

2011-11-01T08:47:00.000-07:00

While Lydia from Mommyland thinks that New Jerseyans can claim venting as a birthright, they've got nothing on the Jewish population. We started kvetching back when Adam and Eve were in the Garden ("So, nu, did you see the size of that Serpent? The nerve that it would accost me like that! What was I supposed to do, just walk away?") So don't even start with me about complaining because my people have it down to a science.

Now that we are long past the days of Eden, though, sometimes it is hard to wind up and get a good, useful rant. A friend of mine who spent time teaching underprivileged kids in Watts called it "white people problems," when she found herself back in suburbia and had to endure the cacophony of whines about the price of a latte at Starbucks or the lack of WiFi at certain establishments. Really, you can't afford a $4 latte? That is so sad! How 'bout those kids who can't afford to eat? Can't connect to the Internet while you are supposed to be doing something else? Bummer for you! How about those kids who have never used a computer?!

A meme has been weaving itself through social media lately, renaming the dilemma "First World Problems," which I find to be far more accurate as well as politically correct. The Badger Hut invites readers to submit original "First World Problems." And Lydia who Rants from Mommyland has something to say on the subject.

I hope that the mere process of realizing what a bunch of whiners we've become, might help us to complain less and do more.

Or it will give us a good belly laugh.

Either way, a win!

Happy Halloween!

2011-11-01T08:38:00.000-07:00

Halloween was a blast. I caught a cold from the frenzied orgy of parties and candy, but it was well worth it! Apologies today go out to teachers across the country. I wouldn't want to be stuck in a classroom with 30+ oversugared, overtired munchkins for all the money in the world. Hug a teacher today and cut them some slack, folks. This is the worst day of the year for them!

As for the Halloween festivities: This was the first year that we didn't have two firefighters. Jayden decided early on that he wanted to be a soldier and Seanie (who is deep in the "monkey see/monkey do" phase) wanted to be whatever his friend Magnus was. Unfortunately for him, Magnus changed his mind mid-week, so they were not the same thing, after all! Mommy got to flex some creative muscle while channeling the power of social media. Were it not for all the links and suggestions on Facebook, the Sean-bot 2011 may never have come to fruition!

Here's to my favorite robot-soldier combination!

Tiger on the Loose!

2011-10-18T03:48:00.000-07:00

For two Scouting drop-outs, it is surprising just how proud we are of our little Tiger Cub.

I do not have fond memories of my time in Girl Scouts. I do remember trying my very first pigs-in-a-blanket for snack during Daisy Scouts (as a kindergartener). But beyond that, I don't think I progressed much past the Brownie phase. I have at least one trauma that clouds my memories: I was late for a meeting and subsequently forced to sing "Happy Birthday" by myself with everyone staring at me as "punishment." And why such dorky names? Brownie? Daisy? Really? It just wasn't my thing.

Dave was a Cub Scout (elementary school), but ended his relationship with the Boy Scouts of America before moving up to the Webelo level. Neither of us have been particularly pleased with the BSA stance on religious tolerance or homosexuality. Since Dave didn't love Scouting with a passion, he didn't feel compelled to continue with his offspring. I vowed while still pregnant that no son of mine would be in such an exclusionary organization.

Funny, but as with most things in parenthood, once the baby emerges from the womb all preconceived notions tend to fly out right after it. Jayden has taught us so very very much about how to parent our child differently. He has never been one to accept the status quo. And while searching for an activity that engages him at every possible level, I came to Scouting. And I recalled a passage from Shonda Schilling's excellent book, "The Best Kind of Different," where she emphasized that the best way for her son and her husband to bond and relate to one another was through Boy Scouts.

So far, Jayden loves Scouting and it makes me excited to see his enthusiasm. He looks adorable in his uniform. He already knows the motto and earned his first belt loop for an art project. He and his dad eagerly look forward to the meetings and the chance to do something special, just the two of them. They have already had conversations about areas and subject matters where patches and other rewards abound -- and how to achieve them. Working towards a common goal, learning new things, exploring new places, and meeting new friends in a safe, structured environment. What is not to love?

Truthfully, I am still not sure how I feel about it. I am torn between loving something that my son so clearly enjoys -- and that has definite merits -- and extreme discomfort that we are supporting an organization that perpetuates intolerance. What kind of message are we sending? That it is okay to belong to a group that discriminates, as long as you get something out of it?

One thing that makes the dilemma worthwhile: we have talked about ways that we can incorporate tolerance into the program. For instance, the first Den meeting included a prayer that invoked the name of a Lord we don't worship. Jayden of course noticed, and a quick conversation with the leader about inclusion made the needed change for future meetings. Jayden saw first-hand how we can influence change and help others be more tolerant.

Let's hope it sticks. I doubt this will be his last lesson on the subject. Nor will it be ours...

My Shattered Hometown: Seal Beach

2011-10-13T20:31:00.000-07:00

They went to get a haircut. Maybe some light nail polish. They were all in the wrong place, at the wrong time, doing what we all do every single day: living their lives.

I grew up in Seal Beach, California, a community of about 25,000 people nestled between its far larger sibling cities of Long Beach, Huntington Beach, and Garden Grove. When I moved to the Central Coast to attend college, people would ask, "what Beach? Where is that?" I eventually just said that I grew up near Long Beach. I figured I would keep the little gem of a community secret.

No more.

Seal Beach has become another statistic. Another city where one person's complete break with sanity has claimed innocent lives. People who were going about their day with no thought that it would be their last.

It is heartbreaking, devastating. I feel guilty to keep thinking, "but that kind of stuff never happens in Seal Beach!" I don't think anyone, any city, is immune anymore to this kind of senseless violence. I could easily go on a rant about the state of our world, the collapse of our economy, the complete and total absence of any kind of accountability or morality in the modern world where we live and how everything has a consequence.

But that won't bring any of the 8 people back.

So let's bow our heads, give a moment of silence and a prayer in honor and memory of those people who represent us all: unfortunate souls who were in the wrong place, at the wrong time, just trying to live their lives.

And hug your loved ones while you're at it. You just never know.

HAPPY 4th BIRTHDAY, SEAN GABRIEL!

2011-10-09T20:41:00.000-07:00

Dear Sean Gabriel,

I blinked. I didn't mean to, but I did. And now you are 4 years old. Four years ago today, you came into our lives after a marathon 14 hour-plus labor and a delivery that had your head pressing on my sciatic nerve the entire time. But you have more than made up for that pain. Every single day of your life, you have brought nothing but joy and light to our family.

This year has been one of tremendous growth in every aspect of your being. Who gave you permission to grow so tall? Somehow you shot up like a weed this year, to where you barely fit in the chair of your babyhood. The same chair where we slept and nursed and rocked and read stories throughout your babyhood, now finds your legs dangling over its arms. It can't contain you.

And neither, it seems, can I. It is getting to where I can no longer carry you cuddled in my arms while we walk to get Jayden at school, or walk down the street to Nana's house. Thinking about it totally deflates me. Not hold my baby any longer? Not carry you everywhere we go? Inconceivable!

But alas, a 4 year-old with as much energy and spunk and sheer brainpower as you have, cannot be contained by a mommy's arms. You started soccer this year and delight in learning the drills and skills that will carry you into the future. So far, your sports of choice are swimming and soccer, but you also love music and dancing and singing. I hope we can afford the piano lessons you beg to have before your interest in music wanes. I think you have a talented ear and when the radio plays in the car, you always want to know what the song and artists are called. Since I love to sing but rarely know more than a few lines of any given song, it is hilarious to hear you mimic me. Or Axl Rose, as the case may be:

In addition to your interest in the arts, your thirst for knowledge seems unquenchable. Your two preschool teachers glow when they talk about your accomplishments. You can write your name and are starting to sound out words. Your vocabulary is beyond eloquent for a 4 year-old. And while some terms are cribbed from the movies you delight in watching over and over ("Bother!" or "That's not respectable!" from Thomas the Train DVDs) others are just words that you use to get your point across. ("WHAT?! Are you kidding me?" you say with a melodramatic sigh).

Speaking of videos, you helped me to make one for an online contest and we won! The whole process was entertaining, but I especially enjoyed your sunny attitude -- even though you despised the drink I was trying to get you to peddle, you smiled and followed the script. Now I know why parents push their kids into Hollywood careers. Who wouldn't want her adorable and deserving child fawned over for oodles of money? But don't worry, Bubba Bear -- I know you have far better things to d0 with your time. For instance, you play a mean game of Memory. We play it almost every day and I never tire of your delight when you flip the cards and make a match. It seems that we have moved into a whole new realm of game playing.

I have buckled my seatbelt for a rough ride this year, as turning 4 started a very very difficult journey for your brother (and, apparently, for both of your parents, whose mothers didn't think would live to see 5). But somehow, Little Bear, I suspect that it is not going to be all that difficult. We will certainly have our challenging moments, but as you do with most everything in life, you will meet them with your usual good-natured smile and positive attitude. We all love that in you.

As always, brother Jayden is your best friend. He is the first one you want to see in the morning and we generally have to pull you from his room at night. Your wrestling matches have become increasingly more energized and physical, and your cuddles and playtime have become equally as intense. You both love and fight hard and I am honored to be the mommy who gets to be there to encourage - and referee - every step of the way.

As sad as I am to lose my little baby, I am ecstatic that he has turned into such an amazing and wonderful little boy. We love you more than all the stars in the sky, grains of sand on the beach, buckets and oceans.

- Love,
Mommy

We Won!

2011-09-16T20:03:00.000-07:00

So, how does one go about getting an agent for an adorable, cuddly, bright, beautiful little almost 4-year-old? I am sure every parent thinks his or her child is the bee's knees. We just happen to be right. [*insert wink here*]

Teeccino posted our grand prize-winning video on the summer contest page. It seems I won $100 in Teeccino products -- which is hopefully enough to keep me in herbal coffee and tea for a few weeks.

A refresher of what we did:

Signs of the Times

2011-09-08T19:40:00.001-07:00

So often, we walk past places and people without a second glance. And that is a true shame, because not only do we miss the beauty and majesty of the world around us, we miss some golden opportunities for humor.

At Jayden's school, the gates are locked until 8:30 a.m. sharp, at which point the bell rings and kids have precisely 10 minutes to rush the poor teacher opening the gates and get to class before school begins (yes, that does in fact leave no time for playing or getting their energy out before having to sit still for long stretches of time. Thank you for noticing!)

Between 8:20 and 8:30, eager children and their parents mob the area in front of the main gate. I stared at that gate every single morning last school year. Two signs hang on the gate, one above the other. While my brain at one point noted that something was "off" about the signs, I don't know that it really registered what exactly seemed wrong.

Recently, I surreptitiously supervised a group of unruly upper-graders as they took turns shoving one another into the fence; I wondered at what point I would have to intercede before someone broke a bone. And one of the biggest, burliest of the bunch stopped, pointed at the signs on the gate and guffawed: "JUST WHAT ARE WE SUPPOSED TO DO, ANYWAY?!"

And we all, children and adults alike, stopped and looked at the signs:

I got some pretty good responses to this on Facebook. And posted it to Fail Blog. I am waiting for Jay Leno to come calling...this is crying out for his "stupid signs" segment.

The Harvard App is Pre-Filled In

2011-09-03T22:53:00.000-07:00

Sean likes to hang out with Jayden's friends. Because he thinks he is 6 or older. Lately the thing to do among first-graders is practice penmanship.

Apparently Sean can hold his own:

I guess that extra day of preschool certainly didn't hurt!

Bento Dina's Site Yet?

2011-08-30T13:19:00.000-07:00

When God was passing out Domestic Goddess genes, somehow he passed me by. At least, that is how I justify a house that always seems messy, a refrigerator with an organization "system" that means things fall out every time the door is opened, and a den where the mountains of paperwork threaten to avalanche on the next unsuspecting person who so much as breathes near my desk.

I don't know where Dina Lee was standing in that line when God passed out the Martha Stewart gene, but my friend somehow got the ability to create works of art out of lunchtime. I hesitate to call her creations "lunch," because honestly it seems a shame for them to actually be eaten. She takes presentation of food to a whole new, amazing level.

This in addition to starting her own company, Little Fortune Cookie, raising her two adorable children, and substitute teaching on the side.

Why yes, I hate her, too.

But I can't help admiring her for her lunches. Not wanting to waste all that hard work on her kids, Dina started taking pictures of her creations and posting them on our various mom's networking sites. Not to brag, but to show what she'd done before the lunches were devoured. Or maybe to brag. But we moms were so impressed and inspired (in addition to being a litle depressed), that we nagged and needled Dina until she finally relented and started her very own blog site, Misobento.

Apparently there is a whole world out there devoted to making the perfect lunch. I've no idea if it means the children are more apt to eat the food molded into such art, but it sure provides a creative outlet for mom!

As someone who loves cooking, I was even inspired to purchase a low-end bento-type lunchbox. Unfortunately, my son is still firmly rooted in his own eating preferences. Which means I either pack the familiar or have a starved, crazy kid at pickup.

So until Jayden's tastebuds change or Sean starts school, I will take notes and learn as much from Dina as I possibly can!

A Star is Made

2011-08-30T12:57:00.000-07:00

Coffee is one of my many vices. But since I have such a delicate composition, too many times I have tried a new brand of coffee or coffee flavor, only to end up spending the entire day in the bathroom. My husband keeps asking why I continue to drink coffee if I know it makes me sick.

My grandparents' condo always smelled like coffee. So the smell evokes memories of grandma & grandpa's house for me. Cool toys. Warm hugs. Great food. Who wouldn't want to revisit that as often as possible? And if it means an occasional (okay, maybe more than occasional) foray to the potty, so be it.

On one of my many wanderings into health food/alternative medicine, I came across Teecino. Founded by Caroline MacDougall, a woman who knows her way around tea, Teecino is a coffee alternative made from, as best as I can tell, nuts and twigs. But the nuts and twigs are ground in such a way as to taste pretty darned good. They have all kinds of flavors and you brew it the same as you would coffee. So I can get my coffee fix and flavor without the bathroom jaunts and without the caffeine. And because it has no caffeine and is all-natural, it is perfectly safe for kids to drink.

As you can tell, I have become a bit of a fan. And when the company announced a contest highlighting why we drink it, I had to give it a go. And who better to enter the contest with, than my trusty sidekick Sean Gabriel?

When I asked if he'd want to do a Teecino Testimonial, Sean was completely game. We had an absolute ball filming the little ditty. And while the quality may not be top-notch -- Steven Spielberg can rest soundly without worry of me getting his job -- the end product turned out better than I'd feared. Directing a kid is much harder than it looks!

I will wait until the winner of the contest is announced before I go into any detail of the video shoot and show you any outtakes.

But meanwhile, here is our contest submission:

The Mother of All Critiques

2011-08-26T11:34:00.000-07:00

My dread of swimsuit shopping is so very real, that prior to July of this year, I was wearing the same swimsuit I bought 3 years ago from among a heaping pile of ugly suits in the Costco warehouse. Sure, after three years of excessive wear, the leg elastic stretched out so badly that I had to constantly extract it from my booty, but that fat-mashing material around the tummy was enough to keep me comfortably covered where I needed it most. Nevermind that I looked like someone's grandma; it worked.

Anything to avoid swimsuit shopping year after agonizing year. Anything.

But then I gave it some thought. Even though I am a 36 year-old mother of two young boys and I don’t expect much universal sex appeal at the beach from this post-partum body and all its stretch-marked glory, I do want to appear younger than my bathing suit makes me seem. I may not be a 20-something college co-ed anymore, but isn’t there a happy medium? A way to look attractive without showing off every stretch mark and the fact that my ample bosom is nearing my navel from all the nursing?

O Magazine (that bible of stay-at-home mothers everywhere) had a special section this past May on flattering swimsuits and some even looked very promising. But our budget does not come anywhere near $100 for a swimsuit. It just doesn’t. Perhaps that makes me different from the average mom, but I hate to think that paying for me to buy one swimsuit will cut into our ability to pay for our children’s swimming lessons. That is the reality for many of us in this economy, sad but true.

I had given up hope and assumed I was destined to wear that all-black Costco Granny Suit from Hell forever.

Never did I think that K-Mart, of all places, would provide the swimsuit of my (over 35) dreams. And I would think that Jaclyn Smith, one of the original Charlie’s Angels, would be the last woman on the planet to create it.

And I look exactly like this when I wear it!

It has a halter top, but with reinforced ribbing and an extra-strong tie around the neck to keep The Girls in their place. The flirty little black skirt that goes with it looks fun and girly and not at all like it exists to compensate for trouble spots (but oh it does! It does! Inner thigh fat? Check. Ample hips? Covered!) The very first time I wore this suit, I basked in compliment after compliment. And at $20 for both pieces, the price could not be better.

For the first time in three years, I knew I had summer made. That I could wear my swimsuit with confidence. So I did, everywhere I went that had even the slightest trace of water. Recently, I wore it to a pool party thrown by a local mom whom I had never met in person before, from my online mom's group. We had a grand afternoon splashing and playing and me rockin' it in my hawt new swimsuit.

Fast-forward to earlier this week. Local members of our online group congregated for a book club meeting (where the book is incidental and the hours are mostly spent dishing and giggling and enjoying being with friends). Swim Party Mom pulled up at the curb at the same time I did, so we walked in together.

"DID YOU LOSE A TON OF WEIGHT?" She asked in that fantastically back-handed compliment/insult kind of way. "You look FABULOUS!" I told her no, and her response will be forever immortalized in my mind:

"Well, then you need to throw that bathing suit away! It is NOT doing you any favors! Sorry, but it is true."

And really, how does one follow up to a comment like that? "Gee, thanks, because I totally revel in my swimsuit shopping sessions, and I aim for the least flattering suit. I am so grateful that you noticed!"

I think I just stammered until we reached the door of the hostess' house. I haven't had occasion to wear the suit since that interaction. A part of me wants to throw it away and never go swimming again. But the louder part, the part that has grown up and grown some confidence somehow, is tempted to put on that swimsuit and parade around town like I own it. Because one person's opinion shouldn't change the way I feel about myself.

Right?

Little Swinger

2011-07-25T05:30:00.000-07:00

Want to watch time fly? The old saying goes that you can throw a clock out the window. I say, just have kids.

The swingset Oma and Papa gave us in 2008 is still going strong, with the boys being able to do ever-more sophisticated stunts and activities on it and around it.

But recently we decided it is time to upgrade some of the components: namely, the baby swing that Seanie could barely strap into without slipping out back in the day. How could three years have flown by so quickly?

And speaking of time flying: school starts August 18th. August 18th?! We have barely hit our summer stride - and the weather has yet to cooperate, with gloomy cool overcast days. But whether we are ready or not, Jayden will be a first grader on August 18th.

Eeep.

A Poohpy Movie Experience

2011-07-21T06:42:00.001-07:00

Took the boys to see "Winnie the Pooh" yesterday in the local theater. We have a one-screen, old-time theater with real butter on the popcorn right here in Hicksville. We could walk to it but I am not that ambitious. Yet.

I had asked a few friends to join us, but as I seem to be making our summer plans minutes before they happen, most friends were already busy. My favorite response, hands-down, came from a friend who was not at all busy, but who said she would prefer "a hot poke in the eye" to sitting through "Winnie the Pooh."

"It is SO BORING," she railed. "Nothing happens! No bad guys, no morality tale, nothing. How can you just sit there for an hour and watch them all sing and eat honey?"

The irony here is that I have loathed Winnie the Pooh's world since childhood. Any Pooh-themed gifts were instantly returned as soon as I got them. If anyone bought baby Jayden a Pooh-themed gift, he never saw it. I just couldn't stand Winnie the Pooh or any of his treacly friends. And I couldn't really tell you why -- it defies reason or rational thought. Totally mental.

But mental or not, I desperately wanted to see this film with my kids for exactly the reasons my friend detailed: no scary characters meant no nightmares, irrational fears, or other traumas for my very sensitive little guys. I wanted them to enjoy the theater experience, to see the big-screen, to eat popcorn and sit in the cushy seats.

We showed up late, which violated my personal rules of movie-watching. I love previews. And since my job is to model the behavior I want my boys to exhibit, I kind of blew it on that one. We stumbled around, trying to find seats while our eyes adjusted to the dark. Jayden led us to the very tippy top of the theater and we got the entire last row all to ourselves. We collapsed in our seats just in time to see the end of the short cartoon, "The Ballad of Nessie," that showed before the main feature.

I was able to glean from the few minutes we saw that the short involved the Loch Ness Monster, a longtime drought, and a golf course. When we took our seats, the monster was trying not to cry for her situation. And she was upset. And that instantly upset Sean. Sensitive little creature that he is, he got agitated that the monster was going to cry. And even though it struck me from the few minutes I saw that the short looked like a really good yarn, I was grateful that it was over soon so I didn't have to listen to Sean's please to "go home! Can we go home? The monster is upset!"

I couldn't wait for the movie to start.

It didn't disappoint. I was bored senseless for the decades it seemed to take Pooh to find "hunny" to eat. But I could appreciate the cute factor. I even chuckled at some parts.

And then the "action" started.

Christopher Robin left a note that he would be "back soon" and Owl misread it and thought Christopher Robin was abducted by a BACKSON monster. The BACKSON monster is much like that computer virus people blamed on all manner of ills: so over-the-top that no one could possibly misconstrue it as anything but a figment of Owl's imagination.

No one, that is, but my son.

Sean flipped out about the Backson. He climbed into my lap and up to my head, begging to go home. It was about 30 seconds of film but it took many, many minutes to calm him down. He got the joke at the same time as Pooh's dim-witted friends - enlightened by Christopher Robin that it was all a misunderstanding.

"The Backson isn't real?!" Sean asked me, his eyes full of hope.

"No, honey, it was all imagination. The Owl made a mistake, and the Backson was just his imagination." I could see his little body visibly relax.

And then the credits rolled. And we stayed through the credits, because Pooh and his friends did all kinds of cutesy things around the words. Then, in a last-ditch humorous bit, the producers decided it would be hilarious to have the Backson wander into the screen and play up a bit. To show that maybe, just maybe, he is real!

Isn't that hilarious?!

I won't relay the effort it took to peel my son off the theater ceiling.

Suffice to say we won't be heading back to the theater again anytime soon.

Although I hear The Smurfs is supposed to be really cute...

The Truth Hurts

2011-07-21T06:40:00.001-07:00

"When I am a Daddy, I am going to be the boss!" - Sean, age 3.5 years

"Are you going to stay single?" - Dave, age 36 years

True, That. But Still...

2011-07-03T08:46:00.001-07:00

Jayden was playing with his Thomas trains and said that Daisy and Percy had a baby train. "I didn't know they were married..." I responded. "They're not, mommy. They did it like animals do. Animals don't get married and have a big party, and neither do trains."

Don't Make Fun!

2011-06-27T21:15:00.000-07:00

I did it! My first review is online at Makes Fun of Stuff. Now I get to sit back and watch the offers roll in to cash in on my talent, right?

Riiiiiight.

Don't worry, dear Readers. I've no doubt that it will take many, many more reviews and posts and writing practice before I could even think of abandoning you for greener pa$ture$.

Back to reality...

Harvest Time

2011-06-27T10:03:00.000-07:00

Our little garden patch started out summer so happy and strong - multiple tomato seedlings sat alongside basil, crookneck, zucchini, onions and lettuce. The boys helped me water and weed until Daddy hooked up a cool irrigation system to make everything bloom. And it all went like gangbusters.

Until.

Let's just say that I have a healthy dose of empathy for Bill Murray's character in "Caddyshack," who spends the bulk of the film chasing down a sadistic gopher. Those little bastards took a big bite out of the garden. One tomato plant simply vaporized - no telltale hole, no broken stalks, no proof that anything had ever been there before. Another looked like it was growing just fine, until we saw that the roots had been gnawed into oblivion.

I realize that the little critter is just trying to survive and feed its family. I should be able to relate well to that. And no one (so far) has tried to smite me for my efforts to do the same for my family. But we took out two gophers, all the same. Next year, maybe we'll investigate those cute little windmills that vibrate the ground enough to humanely deter the gophers. Until then, hubby has taken an intense interest in thwarting them the usual way.

And despite all the power plays, we still managed to grow this (that would be the zucchini, not the little boy. I grew him in an entirely different kind of garden):

Our blackberry vines have been stripped almost bare and the spinach and lettuce plants have long since been harvested and consumed. But we eagerly, anxiously await the blooming of our copious tomato plants, basil, corn, sugar snap peas, carrots, and crookneck squash. And that is just for summer! We have butternut squash and pumpkin plants in the ground for fall.

Not too bad for a city girl from Orange County! Let's just wait and see if any of it makes it to the table...

Happy Anniversary, Baby!

2011-06-25T23:07:00.001-07:00

Eleven years ago today, on a bluff overlooking the Pacific Ocean, I married my best friend. We'd been dating for six years prior to the wedding, which I suppose isn't a terribly long time by today's standards. But since we met at 19 and married at 25, it seemed like a lifetime.

And since that day 11 years ago, we have created two new lives.

So here is to the last 11 years and to whatever the next decades may bring.

I love you, David Jay!

Makes Fun of Stuff

2011-06-21T19:51:00.000-07:00

I have been asked to provide a guest post on Makes Fun of Stuff. My piece isn't up there just yet, but I figured why not give Loyal Readers a taste of a very cool website - then you'll be all up to snuff when I finally get my review in early next month.

And yes, this is really freaking exciting.

Someday Seanie and I Will Laugh at This One...

2011-06-14T22:25:00.000-07:00

Disclaimer: This entry contains links to a story that has extreme profanity. This may not even be noticed by sleep-deprived parents who cannot form a coherent thought, let alone produce eloquent verbiage. But for those who find it offensive, please skip to the next entry. Thanks!
- The Management

New parents talk about sleep the same way they once talked about sex (pre-baby): Who is getting some? How much? How often?

Author Adam Mansbach clearly hit a nerve when he published his "wink-wink" not-a-children's book, "Go the F**ck to Sleep." Originally slated for October publication, the date was pushed to June when a media blitz led to excited buzz and anticipation from exhausted new parents everywhere.

I thought I had graduated forever from those sleepless nights when I first heard about this book. Sean did not sleep through the night for the first 15 months or so of his life. I ended up literally collapsing from exhaustion when I was up all night with him and up all day with Jayden. Many a night I cried while I rocked and nursed and begged Sean in a fruitless attempt to get him to GO THE F**CK TO SLEEP.

However, in a very topical move, Sean opted this very week to wake up in the wee hours of the morning. He didn't do it when I had gone to bed early. Oh, no. He waited for when I was up until midnight, baking cupcakes and preparing for Jayden's birthday party. I crawled into bed at 12:30 a.m. Sean was up at 1:30 a.m. because he was hungry. Then up at 2:30 a.m. because he pooped. And then up at 3:30 a.m. because he couldn't sleep.

So, thank you, dear Seanie, for once again reminding me why I love books. They make sense of the senseless things in life. They make me feel included as part of a larger community. And they make me laugh.

Audible.com provides a brief interview with Samuel L. Jackson, along with a reading of what may be a defining tome for new parents everywhere:

Happy Birthday "Baby"

2011-06-10T20:57:00.000-07:00

Dear Jayden Joshua,

This letter will not be the eloquent ode that you deserve. I am entirely too much in shock to deliver that missive to you. All day, I have been thinking back to six years ago, the day when you came into our lives and changed them forever. The day that you made us parents and began the greatest journey of our lives.

I am in shock that six years have flown by so damn quickly. Today you graduated from kindergarten, a year that has flown by and seen you grow from a child in diapers and overwhelming phobias, to a confident, toilet-trained Little Man.

Despite all the changes, though, in looking back at pictures of you from your birth to present day, one thing remains the same: you have always been such a sunny, happy little dude. Even on your darkest, roughest days, there has always been sunshine peeking through. And we are so grateful to soak up every ray.

I remember one particularly stressful day, in your third year or so, when I felt that I had been a complete failure as a mother. I can't even recall what I had (or hadn't) done, just that at the end of that particular day, I felt like I hadn't been successful in mothering you. And that night, at bedtime, when I asked you how you thought the day went, you said, "pretty good!" You couldn't name a single negative. And I realized that I would have to do a whole lot worse to actually dampen your spirits. And that maybe, just maybe, I needed not to be quite so hard on myself.

You reinforced that fact just a few months ago. You told me, "Mommy, don't be mean to yourself! You're great!"

When did you get so wise?

We have always been blown away by your inquisitive nature, your thirst for knowledge, and your scary-smart memory. But the insights you show about human nature and the empathy you have for others knows no bounds. We never tire of the accolades and appreciation we hear from your friends and teachers about your big heart and big brain.

And speaking of accolades, here is one: you are an awesome big brother. From the moment we introduced the idea of a baby in the house, you have taken to brothering him like nobody's business. When times got tough - and oh, did they get tough that first year! - you would sigh and say, "sometimes it's hard having a baby in the house." I think you were almost 3 years old. I only wish we could supply you with a houseful of babies to teach and nurture because it has been such a joy to watch you and Sean grow up together. From your inside jokes to your increasingly scary wrestling matches and loving kisses and cuddles, you are a joy to watch together.

But before brother came, it was all you, Little Man. You turned every preconceived notion we had about parenting on its ear and showed us time and again that yes, our instincts are often more correct than conventional wisdom when it comes to raising you. That nothing in life is black-or-white. And that you are one special Little Man.

You have taught us about empathy and patience and caring in ways we never could have learned without your influence. Our journey together with you in finding out what has been causing your sensory integration challenges has taught us about a world that we never knew existed. I discovered a latent ability to help many other people in need and raise awareness for a very worthy cause. And through it all, you have been the driving motivation and a true inspiration.

At this point, I am going to sign off and think through what more I want to say that will do justice to just how proud we are of the Little Man you have become. At six years old, you are an amazing little person and we eagerly await seeing what big person you will become.

And we feel honored to have been chosen as the parents who will help nurture you to get there.
- Love,
Mommy

Autism Now on PBS NewsHour

2011-06-04T06:07:00.001-07:00

PBS NewsHour did an excellent video series on Autism, hosted by Robert MacNeil, whose own grandson is on the Autism Spectrum. I think the more we introduce these type of informative pieces, the more the general public will become aware of Autism Spectrum Disorders.

Here is Part One:

Watch the full episode. See more PBS NewsHour.

You can see the entire series here.

The Real Octomom

2011-06-02T19:27:00.001-07:00

Robert Krulwich of NPR posted an article recently about the hardest working mom on the planet: the octopus. I would be hard-pressed to argue with him. The article follows a lecture entitled "No Mother Could Give More," by biologist Jim Cosgrove, about the giant Pacific octopus and how she essentially dies after the all-consuming process of hatching her babies.

And I thought I had a rough week!

Being cooped up in the house with a pretty sickly pickly little one and his all-too-well, energetic older brother has made me stir crazy and I think I may have gained 10 pounds with all the anxiety eating. But that mama octopus? She starves in the effort of keeping her children nourished.

I would say that this article puts my daily life in perspective.

Today, in-between rounds of playing Florence Nightingale and dodging the hacking coughs of the little guy, I got all the laundry done and still managed to catch the tail end of the movie "Cars" (Sean's favorite and one of Jayden's anxiety triggers, so we can't watch it with him around. Ever.)

I told Sean this morning that we could do anything he felt up to doing, having special time since Jayden was at school. And his entire face lit up.

"YOU MEAN I CAN WATCH "CARS"?!"

"Well, I meant that we can spend special time together, reading or playing trains or whatever you want!" Here he had a golden opportunity to spend one-on-one time with me, without any interruptions or having to share me with brother or daddy or dog.

He didn't even hesitate. "I WANT TO WATCH "CARS"!!!!"

In his defense, it is a damn good movie.

So the next time I have a rough day, when it seems that my two boys are more than I can handle, I will reflect upon the Pacific octopus and her 56,000 eggs and remember that I really have it quite easy.

Or something.

Yes, and Then Some

2011-05-25T20:16:00.001-07:00

Both boys have a backpack in the van, loaded with activities for when we are at a restaurant, doctor's office, or other time when boredom is imminent.

I recently picked up an activity book from the producers of "Are You Smarter Than a Fifth Grader?" It contains page after page of trivia questions from the television game show of the same name.

While visiting my grandmother at her convalescent hospital, Jayden pulled out the book, snuggled up with his dad, and proceeded to power through the questions.

"Can we get one for a sixth grader?" my 5-year-old asked when he finished.

Sure, kid. And why don't I sign up for a college physics course while we're at it, so I can answer your questions in the next couple of years...

A Yawn is Just a Natural Bodily Function

2011-05-24T20:07:00.000-07:00

"I am not tired!" wailed my thoroughly exhausted son Sean from the back seat of the minivan. He yawned spectacularly and then explained, "I am just getting more oxygen."

Then he promptly passed out.

Thanks for the clarification, kid. Oh, and for the record? He is just three-and-a-half years old. I am not sure I knew the existence of the word oxygen at that age, let alone had the ability to use it correctly in a sentence.

So humbling, this whole parenthood thing.

Home Again, Home Again Jiggity Jig

2011-05-22T22:12:00.000-07:00

We spent the weekend in The OC with family, celebrating some birthday milestones. That part was fairly uneventful. It was the trip down that we had a hard time enduring. Make note, anyone wanting to visit LA for the weekend:

Getting to the area around LAX at 3 p.m. on a Friday is not advisable.

Luckily our kids are pretty good travelers. And we have plenty of DVDs for the portable player! So six-plus hours after we set out on our journey, we arrived at our destination only slightly frazzled and worse for the wear.

Am I alone in seeing some serious irony from our trip? The children live in one of the most breathtaking places in the world, with countless hiking trails, bike paths, and opportunities to exercise and convene with Nature. And when I attempt to utilize said opportunities, the kids are so not interested!

But while visiting their great-grandma in a sizable urban area, near an airport and multi-lane freeways, the boys managed to find the only green patch within miles and went pinecone hunting, tree climbing, and other outdoorsy activities. No prodding or nagging needed. In fact, I had to literally pull Sean from the ivy patch so that we could get back to grandma and grandpa's in time for dinner.

Guess we'll need to find a serious ivy patch nearby to make this area worth their while.

For the record, traveling has become So. Much. Easier. Now that the boys are bigger, they travel better and are somewhat easier to corral in hotel rooms. We even got a couple hours of sleep the first night! Had Jayden not fallen out of a very high bed at midnight, we might have had a few more. So much to look forward to for next time...

Anyway, it was great to see all the family, but always wonderful to be HOME.

A Gut Feeling

2011-05-19T08:26:00.001-07:00

I have been getting deeper into the world of "alternative" health lately, since my experience with Western medicine curing my ills has been spotty at best.

A perfect example: Last December, I went to my doctor with severe chest pains - all the classic signs of a heart attack. She did an EKG and diagnosed me with anxiety, then gave me three prescriptions: one for a medication that would "knock me out" ("be sure not to drive or be watching the children," she told me, a full-time stay-at-home mom who watches the children all day long); one for a long-term Selective Serotonin Reuptake Inhibitor (SSRI); and another that eludes me now but she warned me at the time would be expensive and possibly habit-forming. She reassured me that anxiety is normal and that I would feel better as soon as I started on the regimen.

I went to a naturopath instead, as a last-ditch effort to see if maybe my situation could be resolved without quite so much trauma to my pocketbook or daily living.

The naturopath asked me where I was in my menstrual cycle at the time the pains hit. "Huh?" I asked, wondering what in hell that had to do with anything and whether this was a mistake. Well, as it turned out, I was about to start my period when the attacks hit. And prior to one's menstrual cycle is apparently when progesterone levels (which help regulate mood) are at their lowest.

And then she asked what was going on emotionally at the time, which was in fact a lot of heavy stuff. So she explained that it was a "perfect storm" of biology, chemistry, and life circumstances and that it would be shocking if I hadn't been struggling to breathe.

She gave me relaxation exercises, a suggestion for over-the-counter herbal remedies that have worked miracles, and some cream to up my progesterone levels (which, as it turns out after a simple saliva test, are abnormally low in general).

I have felt pretty damn fantastic ever since.

Those prescriptions, by the way, were shredded.

The experience taught me an amazing lesson about our body's ability to heal itself. And the more I read in regards to Autism Spectrum Disorders, the more convinced I am that diet and medicines are playing a huge role in our ongoing challenges here at Oksnernia. Jayden is clearly addicted to gluten and casein. He is on a constant roller coaster of crashing and then spiking in his moods. His eyes go vacant when he is about to crash, like my little guy isn't in there anymore. Yesterday he crashed so very very hard, and then when I gave him one of only about three foods that he is willing to eat, he became like an addict, hyper and crazy and impossible to calm.

I keep saying that I think the diet is key, but we aren't really sure how to go about implementing it.

And after consulting with psychologists, psychiatrists, and behavioral therapists who are trained in Western medicine, we have found ourselves cash-strapped and with more questions than answers. It has been awful. So I know that our next steps once we regroup will be homeopathy and more natural means.

This morning, some scientific research backs me up on my gut feeling:

http://www.sciencedaily.com/releases/2011/05/110517110315.htm

Jayden has had chronic ear infections and strep throat. And every single infection has been greeted with a course of antibiotics, and rarely can I get any probiotics into him. I understand that gluten can contribute to this cycle by upsetting the natural balance of flora and fauna in the gut. I didn't understand the science behind it, but it all made sense when explained to me by mom friends and other laypeople who know.

And I couldn't be happier to know that maybe, just maybe, we can find a solution that - while likely painful and difficult to implement - might really help our little guy and our household.

Say WHAT?

2011-05-18T20:41:00.000-07:00

I am continually astounded when my kids make connections between conversations, jokes, references, etc. (I think it is just hard for me to accept that they are independent, thinking creatures and not still the gelatinous little babes who emitted more bodily fluids than I'd ever seen prior to their births.)

With that in mind, the following story:

Since high school, reading the morning comics has been a holy ritual for me. When the house is quiet, before anyone else is awake, I like to settle in at the table with a piping hot mug of coffee, a filling breakfast, and my favorite comics characters.

As with most things in parenthood, this has changed with the addition of the children.

Now, the boys fight over who gets to pick up the paper on the driveway. I have exploited this as much as possible, allowing them to go out together in the cold morning fog while I stand in the doorway, warm and watchful.

Once inside, they drop the paper on the table and Sean shouts, "FAMILY CIRCUS!" and then "BABY BLUES!" and I am sure to read their favorites. ("Pickles" and "For Better or For Worse" are also favorites.) While our local paper is very small-town in its news coverage, it is blessedly perfect in its comics page.

In November, when Sean had just turned 3, Baby Blues ran its requisite Thanksgiving week strips. I read this one aloud:

Baby Blues Thanksgiving Strip (November 24, 2010)

Essentially, little boy Hammie asks his mother if he can help with the dinner preparations. His mother, Wanda, encourages him to peel the sweet potatoes. And Hammie is bummed because he "wanted to bag a moose." The boys laughed. Sean's laugh seemed a bit forced. I assumed he was just mimicking his brother and doubted that he "got it."

Later that day, I was sitting at the table when Sean came into the kitchen dragging Jayden's enormous stuffed moose. "What are you DOING, Sean?" I asked in annoyance, watching as the moose picked up every means of crumb and dog hair in its journey across the linoleum.

"I bagged me a moose!" he said with that infectious grin and contagious giggle.

In that vein, the following exchange happened this week:

Sean has been trying to heed my pleas not to use potty talk. So he was musing about favorite teddy bears and he said: "Winnie the Pooh seems like kind of a ... bad ... name for a bear, isn't it? Is there a better name?"

"Winnie the Penis?" Jayden offered.

A few days later, while a Target, Sean suddenly screams, "WINNIE THE PENIS!" when he saw the bear on the shelf. I looked at him to see if he was making the connection and his devilish grin confirmed my suspicions.

The kid has comic timing, all right!

Campy Weekend

2011-05-01T22:54:00.000-07:00

Every May, the world-renowned Wildflower Triathlon is held at Lake San Antonio/Nacimiento in southern Monterey County. When we were in college, the Cal Poly Amateur Radio Club began providing communications services for the event.

That meant we ham operators were stationed strategically along the race route to provide updates when a bike rider was down, or when a swimmer needed help in the water. It was kind of boring to me that first year, as the kinks still needed to be ironed out in how it all went down. I didn't go back, but our friends insisted that it just got better and better each year.

Wildflower has figured prominently in our lives, as Dave was wearing his "official" Wildflower shirt on the morning of June 10, 2005, so all of Jayden's birth photos are commemorated with the shirt.

Last year, Dave decided that he would take Jayden and the two would go camping at the lake with alumni from the radio club. They planned and prepared and were both so excited to do the camping thing, that it was a crushing blow when Dave got a nasty staph infection and the whole weekend plan was scrapped.

This year, Dave decided he'd give it another go. He did some lesser prep work with Jayden and more behind-the-scenes planning that would go unnoticed should illness or some other reason force another cancellation of plans.

This past Friday they piled into the truck alongside sleeping bags, tent, and other camping necessities, and headed off to the lake.

By all accounts, the weekend was a smashing success. They saw bunnies and herons and deer. They played around on a friend's jet skis (alas, not in the water, as it was deemed too cold to go into or ride on). Dave said that Jayden was "a perfect angel" and that they had a really, really great time.

Dave and Jayden came back late Saturday night, sunburned, elated, and exhausted from their adventure.

For our parts, Sean and I had a more sedate weekend. He caught a mild virus and we had to scrap our travel plans. But I did end up taking him to a sushi restaurant for his first foray into my favorite cuisine. He tried edamame ("I don't wike dis!"), tempura, and a piece from an avocado roll. I don't know that I will be investing in that type of dinner for him again, but it was so exciting for me to have him taste new foods, experience something I really really enjoy, and have some downtime with just the two of us.

And today, Daddy spent quality time with Sean so that he didn't feel left out. They mowed the lawn together, got dressed together, and generally did everything together.

As my mother-in-law said, now it is back to the spinning hamster wheel of a week!

And the winner is...

2011-04-08T22:11:00.000-07:00

The Autism WALK was last weekend in downtown San Luis Obispo. After two months of begging, pleading, cajoling and cyber-nagging, Team Oksner managed to come out ahead of every other eligible team in the fund-raising competition, bringing in $2,415.00 - ahead of our goal. We felt humbled and awed by the support of family and friends to the cause. And we won a team party to celebrate, at a swanky kids' play place in San Luis Obispo, which made the day all the sweeter.

I carried Jayden in my arms when I went to accept the awards on the team's behalf. And when the director of the Autism Spectrum Center handed me the papers, Jayden kissed me and thanked me for all the work.

And that is why we did it.

Thank you again, dear Readers, for all of your support.

Every Jewish Mother's Dream

2011-04-08T21:54:00.001-07:00

This whole social media-plus-blog thing has me scrambling to catch up, folks. At some point we will have to indulge in one of those smart phones. But until that point in time, we will continue to use "dumb" technology - and only be connected when we are at our computers. Tonight I remembered all the loyal readers of Oksnernia and I wanted to catch you up on a few things.

First, Purim. For those not in the know, Purim tells the story of how the evil Haman tried to have all the Jews killed in ancient Persia but was thwarted in his attempts by the brave Queen Esther and her cousin, Mordechai. [Those who want a more thorough education are welcome to visit Judaism 101]

Our boys are all about Purim. Each year, we retell the story with lots of booing and noisemaking whenever evil Haman's name is mentioned. We make and eat cookies in the shape of Haman's hat. And we are commanded to drink until we can't tell the good from the bad in the story. The boys abstained from that last part, but the retelling at synagogue was an absolute blast, with the kids encouraged to wave noisemakers ("groggers"), stamp on Haman's picture under rolls of bubble wrap to increase the noise, and dress up to mark the day.

When I was a kid, we typically dressed up as our favorite character from the Purim story. Mostly Mordechais and Esthers, with a few others thrown in. Some daring kids would dress up as if it were Halloween, wearing whatever costume suited their fancy. Well, since Jayden is all about being his own person, he raided his closet and decided to dress as a doctor. A friend of ours gave the boys a bunch of costumes that have sat untouched until last month. Luckily both boys had their own set of scrubs and we had a couple of toy medical kits around the house.

I have to say it was one of the most enjoyable holiday celebrations yet and shows that as the boys grow older, creating family customs becomes so important and fun. Next year I hope to plan even better and make up gift baskets to give to neighbors and friends. This year, I barely got the hamantaschen cookies made in time. Seanie even "helped" me, in that he was in charge of the KitchenAid mixer. Which he turned on full-force when the bowl was filled with flour. Which ended up all over the kitchen. But he looked so adorable doing it, doncha think?

Now to plan our upcoming Seder...luckily there are TWO doctors in the house in case anything unexpected comes up!

WALK to Remember

2011-03-28T21:33:00.001-07:00

Hey all! The Central Coast Autism Spectrum Center will hold its annual WALK for Autism on Sunday, April 3rd at Mission Plaza, San Luis Obispo. Come join us from 12:30 - 4 p.m. for a fun-filled day of activities, entertainment, food, and other stuff.

The WALK part is at 2:30 p.m. You can still contribute to Team Oksner:

http://www.asctowalk.com/teamoksner

Thanks! So far we are in second place. It is so exciting to help out such a worthy cause!

Taggers Not-So Anonymous

2011-03-19T20:00:00.001-07:00

A friend of mine recently lamented that it took an entire weekend for her and her husband to paint the kitchen. They painted it completely, didn't like the color, and painted it again. And again. And finally gave up because they ran out of weekend.

"Where were the girls while you did all that?" I asked incredulously.
"Oh, they just mostly played quietly in the other room," she said as if it were the most natural thing in the world.

Which got me thinking about how I typically cannot complete the most mundane of tasks without my boys getting into some kind of trouble. I tried to weed the garden recently while the boys and I were outside, and I was forced to stop fairly soon into the task when I found Sean naked in the bathroom, an entire roll of toilet paper clogging up the toilet.

My most recent transgression involved being on the phone. I was calling a neighbor to see if she was up for a playdate. When I hung up after less than 2 minutes total, I found that Jayden had climbed up on a chair, grabbed a Sharpie marker from the mug atop our refrigerator, and wrote his name all over his brother's face.

I managed to scrub off all but the faintest "Jay" on Sean's left cheek.

I have given up on maintaining constant vigilance. I think instead I will just get better at mopping up the damage.

Green with Joy

2011-03-17T22:21:00.001-07:00

Getting the children into the spirit of any holiday has been pure magic. That is, when I manage to get organized enough to do so. Unfortunately, most holidays tend to sneak up on me and I find myself woefully unprepared, then frantically trying to make it all gel so that the boys don't miss out.

Take St. Patrick's Day, for instance.

I applauded myself for buying special green shirts weeks ago, just to make sure that neither kiddo would be pinched. [Lord knows what kind of reaction Jayden would have to that kind of personal space violation, so I wanted him prepared.] I got some Irish-themed books from the library, but none really informed about the point of the holiday or what people do. They were really more cutesy kids stories about parties and shamrocks.

On the morning of March 17th, I read on Facebook about all the moms who toppled furniture, sprinkled green glitter and made footprints throughout the house. They hid candy and small gifts and dyed foods green to match the spirit of the day. They got their children so excited about "naughty leprechauns" and magic and all that jazz.

*sigh*

When our little neighbor friend came into the minivan for preschool carpool, she was crowing about all the gold the Leprechauns left for her. Sean looked so puzzled, I knew that I hadn't done enough explanation or preparation about the day.

"Well, maybe they will come to our house next!" I said in the rearview mirror.
She was incensed. "They only come at NIGHT! My mommy told me!" Sean, for his part, was entirely too focused on his Raffi CD to really pay much attention.

I later picked Jayden up from school and all the children came out of the kindergarten class wearing special Leprechaun masks they had made. And I realized that I had forgotten to do the Leprechaun thing at our house. So as I pulled into the driveway, I explained that we had a little problem last night and he shouldn't panic when he came in the house. Then I gave him a list of all the personal items he needed to bring into the house from the van, as a stalling tactic (luckily, the kids use the van as their personal closet space/garbage dump, so there was endless amounts of Jayden's stuff to relocate).

I quickly ran into the house, tore into the collection of chocolate coins I keep for incentives, and tossed the coins around the entryway and kitchen. I upended some furniture and then Jayden came in, jaw agape. He dropped to his knees and frantically grabbed up every coin he could, but he was pretty upset that the Leprechauns moved the furniture. He kept asking how they got in the house and why they left some of the gold. And why was the gold actually chocolate coins?

I am not sure if the whole experience left him more excited or disturbed, really.

When Sean came home from preschool, Jayden told him all about the leprechauns' visit and did a special scavenger hunt with his brother.

Then, feeling badly that Sean didn't get to share on the magic (he hadn't gotten home from school yet), I tried something else: green dye in the toilet! I called him into the bathroom to show him that the leprechauns had clearly been here, because the toilet water was green!

Jayden was fairly horrified. I don't think Sean much cared about any of it.

And that was St. Patrick's Day in Oksnernia. Last-minute chaos, but still some fun and magic.

Now, the night before Purim, I am making dough for hamantaschen cookies and realized that we never nailed down what costumes the boys will wear tomorrow at PurimPalooza.

*sigh* Maybe I can have my act together before Passover?!

So Close, So Far Away

2011-03-17T21:56:00.001-07:00

Dave and I recently got away to nearby Avila Beach. You can see Sean in the photo, bringing our suitcase to the car and eagerly ushering us out the door. The boys spent the morning before our departure glued to the window, asking about every 5 minutes, "is Nana here yet? Is Nana coming now?"

It makes leaving the little ones so much easier, knowing that they are well cared for - nay, even eager for us to depart.

We have a friend who manages a swanky boutique hotel and he got us a ridiculous rate for two nights of pure bliss.

For one of the nights, he even let us use the Owner's Suite. Picture Richard Gere's penthouse hotel suite in "Pretty Woman" and dial it down to cozy but still opulent proportions. We didn't have a grand piano, but we did have a full kitchen, a bathroom with a jacuzzi tub, sauna, and dual-head shower, and a sumptuous four-posted canopied bed and a BIG screen television with a DVD library at our disposal. Photos from that part of the weekend are unavailable, folks.

It took me one day to fully unwind and realize that I did not have to angst over any0ne's food issues, pottying needs, or other daily parenting demands. It took another full day to indulge myself.

My new "Happy Place" when I need a mental break: sitting in a bubble bath in the jacuzzi tub, jets roaring, while I read the latest issue of "People" magazine. For an hour.

And as a mom who usually can't poop without an audience, I cannot express the luxury that that single bath provided!

I am still getting readjusted back to reality, despite being home for almost two weeks. I love my boys more than anything in this world, but being away did further empathize that we have a genuine problem with Jayden's eating habits. We are working on behavioral intervention, but the continual drama of feeding someone who eats virtually nothing has been extremely wearing on me.

Other than that, it probably ranked among the very top birthdays of all time!

Heartbreakers

2011-02-12T20:00:00.000-08:00

Valentine's Day is an absolute favorite holiday around Oksnernia. Jayden started digging the whole "candy and chocolates" concept back in his early preschool days and his enthusiasm has only grown from there. Because, you see, now he has double the number of classmates to lavish with junk food - and get in return! And because little brother is in two preschools, both boys get to go to two different Valentine's Day parties.

But this also means that we had a whole lotta valentines to sign and seal for delivery. Last weekend we turned our kitchen table into a type of factory. Yes, I had hoped to show the children the value of homemade things by lovingly handcrafting valentines for each boy's classroom(s). But then the daunting realization hit that Jayden has 26 to deliver and Sean has 40+ between his two schools. And Rite-Aid had charming pre-made valentines with gluten free/nut free lollipops attached (Sean's classmates have some wicked allergies) - for $1.99 per box.

So my boys instead learned the value of saving money and time. The classic dilemma these days, hmmm?

Jayden has his kindergarten class party on Monday, then we book it over to Sean's preschool for its party. And then I scrape my children off my ceiling from all the sugar.

Bring on the love!

The Terrible Threes

2011-01-15T20:09:00.000-08:00

Here we go again.

As soon as we got over the hump of the last two years with Jayden, I immediately dreaded the idea that we would have to do it all again. I mean, Sean and Jayden are two entirely different children, so maybe (PLEASE?!) ages three and four wouldn't be quite so hellacious the second time around.

On Friday, I went to pick up Sean from preschool and his sweet, unflappable teacher let me know, "Seanie needed a little 'Sit and Think' time today." She explained that it is like a Time Out, where the child can sit and think about his behavior. Apparently, my little Angel had run his toy truck purposely and repeatedly into another little boy. "I have never had that with Sean before," she noted. Yeah, welcome to the club!

I asked the teacher to what she attributed the behavior. I hoped that maybe he was getting sick and feeling out of sorts. Or maybe a tooth was coming in that I hadn't anticipated??

"He's 3," she said without missing a beat.

Damn.

Over the past couple of weeks, Sean has become a 3-year-old wholly and completely. When I ask him to do something, he doesn't just say "no" in a sassy way. He usually just ignores me completely, walking away as if I hadn't said anything. But for those of you who have seen his absolutely electric smile, you know how charismatic that kid can be. As he walks away, he is usually laughing or doing something silly to get me to smile.

Sometimes, it even works.

But lately, still recovering from the trauma of winter break, I don't have a smile quite so readily available. I don't laugh it off as easily. I have been getting frustrated and angry and defeated. I know these two very short years will be gone in a blink, but the days might seem interminable in the meantime.

Wish me luck!!

Adventures in Toilet Training...

2010-12-30T19:31:00.001-08:00

I am not going to claim victory just yet, but after the longest, most grueling week of parenting thus far, it seems that Jayden is in fact voiding into the toilet. Usually. And he is wearing underwear all the time, which is a victory of such epic proportions, dear Readers, it fills me with joy just to type the words.

It only took three full days with a behavioral therapist (who said that she hasn't seen this level of phobia around toileting in all her years of working with kids on the Autism Spectrum), and then another three days of me calling Dave by 3 p.m., ready to flee from the house and never look back if I couldn't get some relief.

Sean, for his part, was ferried off each day to one locale or another until he begged and pleaded, "PLEASE mommy, can I please stay home today?!" And he was able to that one morning, until hysteria returned to the bathroom and Sean had to be taken elsewhere again lest he be scarred for life from using the potty himself.

In the interim, I had to physically force Jayden onto the toilet, then hold him there while he kicked, punched, and screamed at the top of his lungs right into my ear. I was punched in the nose, slapped on the collarbone, and kicked in the gut. And I had to keep reminding myself that we are the lucky ones - that our son has super high-functioning, barely-noticeable-to-anyone-but-us Asperger's and that this is just a blip in the overall scope of parenting. At least he can communicate easily, right? Right?

But it is hard to remember to be grateful when your child is beyond hysterical and your body is battered and your psyche is bruised. And yes, he was just that afraid of what could happen to him if he used the toilet. Just that phobic of change after five years in diapers. When I reached the point of exasperation, of frustration to where I was afraid I would lash out right back, I just had to look in his eyes, see the abject terror in them, and the Momma Bear would come out and be once again firm but gentle in reassuring him that it will all be okay, but that yes, you do in fact have to do this.

I can now put "Poop Doula" on my Mommying Resume. It did remind me much of the childbirth experience, in a grotesque kind of way. But in childbirth, there is a definitive end. One way or another, that baby is coming out. In our case, we needed an X-Ray of his gut and a well-placed enema once he had held everything in for four days of agony no amount of MiraLax could fix.

I don't know how soon I will recover from the experience; I only wish I'd taken pictures during the week, to show his bride on their wedding day. You know, so she knows what she's getting into and I get some payback.

We have been trying to enjoy ourselves in-between grueling jags in the bathroom (which was transformed into a Toileting Wonderland over the past week).

The boys helped me to make holiday gifts for family - we spent Christmas with Oma & Papa - and they had a blast doing it as the photo attests.

We haven't been able to venture very far (beyond our one day trip, that is) and I am hopeful that now we're beyond the worst of it all (I hope) we can start spending more time out of doors. Jayden just asked me what parks are around that we haven't been to, and since everything has become a carrot for rewarding toileting behavior, I am thinking we could soon be heading off to parks unknown.

Meanwhile, we have one more glorious, endless week of vacation in which to complete the potty training process.

All Aboard!

2010-12-30T19:16:00.000-08:00

I've no idea just how we managed to luck out with Jayden's kindergarten class. We have been invited to a few birthday parties and the more time I spend with both the kids and their moms from class, the happier and more impressed I am.

With 27 kids in his class - some of them with extra needs like Jayden - I had very low expectations. But the teacher and those kids have far exceeded every single one of them.

And the moms! I have had my share of dealing with snarky, nasty moms at preschool and parks and it is a definite pleasure to have found a group of really really nice moms who are friendly and supportive. A group even started weekly park playdays after school and it is one of the highlights of our week: Jayden gets to play with his friends from class, Sean gets to play with the many siblings his age, and I get to visit with other moms who have similar likes and experiences.

And to send us off in style for winter break, the room moms came up with a brilliant idea: The Polar Express! My friend Kelly recently switched from a high-powered working mommy to a stay-at-home mom and she threw every ounce of her energy and creativity into making the party astounding. She even roped her husband into playing "Conductor" - complete with cap and suit! Kids had to line up and get their tickets punched before they were allowed back into the classroom to board the "train."

Activities included:

* A scavenger hunt on the playground for train "tickets"
* Grabbing a cut of hot cocoa to enjoy on the "train"
* Sitting in a simulated train while excerpts from the movie and book played on a big screen
* Ringing handmade bells to participate in the story

It was hard to leave when it all ended at the strike of noon.

But leave we did. And now, dear Readers, we are in the middle of an endless three week vacation. More on that soon!

A Feather in his Cap

2010-11-27T21:48:00.002-08:00

Jayden performed in his first ever recital on the last day of school before Thanksgiving break. All the kids had turkey headdresses on and did little songs and dances for the parents. It was so adorable.

We were bursting with pride over the great job he did. They had to perform under sub-optimal conditions: a sudden rainstorm changed the location, layout, and number of performances without warning. He went through all the motions each time the teacher asked (I think they capped it at about 10 times), and only afterwards did he collapse into Nana's arms. Turns out that he had a fever and was pretty sick.

But, you know, the show must go on!

Wishing all readers of the Chronicles a happy, healthy Thanksgiving. On to the insanity that is December!

'Twas the Night Before Breakfast...

2010-11-19T21:13:00.000-08:00

Bear with me while I give a little bit of background for today's entry:

Awhile back, my mom brought an array of breakfast cereals with her to try and entice Jayden into, well, eating. Her attempts were in vain where Jayden was concerned,
but Sean absolutely fell in love with Crispix. What's not to love? The bright blue box with that ridiculously enlarged picture of a piece of cereal and artfully captured splosh of milk would excite anyone who enjoys breakfast from a box.

Problem was, he couldn't pronounce it. So whenever he learned that a visit from Grandma was imminent, he would demand his "Cris-Mix with Gramma."

Now you've got the background, on to the story:

At pickup today from preschool, Sean's teacher asked me what our usual December holiday celebrations look like. She belongs to our synagogue so I was a bit surprised
that she was asking. "We celebrate Chanukah," I said. "And some relatives celebrate Christmas, so we try to make it clear to the boys that we are helping others
celebrate their Christmas holiday."

His teacher listened to my explanation and then told me that she was a bit confused, because on his Thanksgiving Chain project today, Sean said he was thankful for
Christmas. She quickly explained that at this age it doesn't necessarily mean anything and not to worry that he is rejecting his religion outright at age 3. I kind of figured
on that, but I was truly puzzled as to what made him say Christmas. Was he mimicking the other kids? Repeating something he'd heard on the radio? Sean missed last
December's celebrations due to an extremely nasty bout of stomach flu. So the last Christmas he attended was at 14 months of age. There is *no way* he could possibly
remember it. Any more than I would expect him to remember Chanukah from a year ago. Or if I am being honest, remember something from last week. That kid lives for the
here and now.

On the drive home, I mulled over the possibilities. I was really curious, so I asked him what he likes about Christmas.

"I like to eat it!" he said excitedly. "With Grandma. For breakfast."

Christmas in a box! What a novel idea. I wonder if Kellogg's has thought of it already??

Soc(cer) it to Me

2010-11-14T22:18:00.000-08:00

Jayden is an awesome swimmer. His prowess in the pool has astounded me since he was a year old, paddling about like a baby seal. He blows me away whenever we go to a gymnasium and he can move on the balance beam, dance on a trampoline, or climb any obstacle. And he recently awed his friends (and his parents) with an impressive two-strikes-and-a-spare game at the bowling alley.

We all have our aptitudes. I think the jury is still out on whether or not soccer qualifies for Jayden.

That is not to say that he isn't good at it. I think if he liked soccer as much as he enjoys swimming, he'd be an ace on the field. Sometimes he showed tremendous promise, like when he played goalie and took the role seriously: he knew to block any ball that came down the field and did so with finesse.

The problem with our first ever AYSO season (which ended in November) was twofold: 1) everyone on our team but Jayden apparently aspired to become the next David Beckham (at age 5); and 2) soccer season started at the same time that kindergarten started, and I think it was an awful lot of change for our little guy.

In her book, "The Best Kind of Different," Shonda Schilling writes about her son Grant's battle with Asperger's Syndrome, and the game of soccer figures prominently throughout the book: Grant couldn't keep the shinguards on because they itched or irritated him; Grant couldn't stay focused, so he'd often be found picking flowers instead of paying attention to the action; Grant flatly refused to go on game days and Shonda found herself arguing and cajoling and nagging her son to get in the damn car already!

When soccer sign-ups came around, Dave cautioned me not to sign Jayden up. We'd read Shonda Schilling's book and Dave was concerned that if Jayden had a behavioral issue, he would be letting down the team. "Just focus on individual sports, like swimming and karate," he advised.

I thought about it and was really bothered by the idea of limiting Jayden based on what might happen. He needs to exercise vigorously to get all his excessive energy out and soccer seemed like a great way to do it. And I thought that starting him young, when everyone else was just starting out, would be better than waiting until the other kids had been playing for years, were he to show interest down the line. So I took a deep breath and a leap of faith, paid the $100 non-refundable fee, and signed him up.

At the very first practice, he wandered off, did the exact opposite of whatever the coach asked, and whined after about 15 minutes that he needed a break and didn't want to play anymore. Just flatly refused. My husband - patient man that he is - never once said "I told you so." [Little brother Sean, meanwhile, practically begged at every single practice to "please sign me up for soccer, please? PLEASE can I pway? I wuv soccer!" Leading to a Life Lesson: it is better to wait on things like this until they beg.]

During games, the coach decided to play Jayden right off, when he was fresh, then let him rest for as long as he needed. There was the occasional flower-picking, daydreaming, and wandering off. But we saw plenty of that on the other teams, too. Had we been on any other team, I don't know that Jayden's quirky behavior would have garnered any attention. But as luck would have it, we were placed with a team of mini-Peles and it stood out dramatically.

Without fail, every game he complained about the shinguards, to the point where he would plop down in the middle of the field (in the middle of the game) and remove them. If a helicopter or other distraction happened during a game, Jayden wouldn't be able to focus for anything. A few times we saw him turn around and stare in the opposite direction while the ball was kicked by his teammates behind him, mere inches from his body. And no amount of screaming from the sidelines could divert his attention.

By the end of the season, we had stopped going to practices altogether. They conflicted with our behavioral therapy appointments and most of the hour was spent cajoling, begging, pleading, and demanding that he participate. Games were fun when he was able to focus and wanted to play.

Which did happen sometimes, to our delight. He would chase after the ball and opponents with zest, and often was chosen to throw the ball in after the other side fouled. He did it with panache and we would scream and cheer.

And during the last quarter of the last game of the season, he went after the ball and chased an opponent down a good part of the field. So we celebrated, big-time.

Note to self: sign Sean up for soccer next year. And keep Jayden in the water, where he feels at his best.

Not that there's anything wrong with that...

2010-11-06T08:48:00.000-07:00

I have been pinged numerous times regarding a blog post a loving mom wrote about her son's proclivities towards dressing in drag.

Her point is that the boy is a mere 5 years old and "drag" means nothing at that age (at least to most sane people). Unfortunately, the world is filled with nattering nabobs - often moms with something to prove or too much time on their hands - and author mom "Nerdy Apple Bottom" felt she had to go to the 'net to defend her son.

The post brought back memories of an outing we took earlier this year to Payless Shoes. The manager really doesn't like children very much and when we find ourselves in *desperate* need of shoes, I am always exasperated by how impolite she is to the kids. Without fail, she snaps at Jayden every single time he puts his left foot in the little measuring thingy when she asked for his right.

On that particular day, we were shopping for dress shoes for an upcoming wedding. We endured the usual measurements and her sniping and me yelling at the boys to stop running around the store for gawdsakes! And while I was harnessing Jayden into a pair of size-13s to see if his feet really are that big, Sean meandered over to us wearing the most dynamite pair of shiny pink slippers from the girl section. They had sparklies and bows and were simply beautiful. Sean was beaming. "Mommy! Look at my shoes!" he said proudly.

"Those are girl shoes," Jayden scoffed. [Which is odd, because Jayden rarely follows convention on anything.]

Sean didn't miss a beat. He just turned around and paraded his newfound gems on another aisle where they'd be appreciated. He told the crusty store manager and the other customers to "look! Look at my pretty shoes!"

And then the manager shocked the heck out of me: after hearing me praise Sean's excellent taste in shoes, she came over and thanked me for "letting" him wear the shoes. When I pointed out that he is only 3 years old, she said that usually doesn't matter. She has parents in the store yelling at their boys, getting angry, and actively snatching the girlie shoes from little feet.

Crusty manager and I had a moment together, shaking our heads in unison at the sorry state of our society if a little boy can't even enjoy playing dress-up in shiny things without being made to feel bad about it.

And I am not entirely innocent when it comes to biases on this subject. I told myself that it was because those shiny shoes really didn't match his suit for the wedding, that I had to convince him that the ugly black boxy boys' dress shoes were really cool. [Although in hindsight, I doubt the bride or anyone at the wedding would have batted an eye had we brought Sean in a suit and shiny pink shoes. And it shouldn't matter what they think anyway, right?]

Another bias: One reason I am grateful to have boys is that I automatically assumed we dodged the Disney Princess bullet - my friends of girls have invested amounts equal to the incomes of some small countries so their daughters can be decked out in full tiaras-to-pumps Disney Princess regalia.

While I am not going to discourage Sean from dressing up to his heart's content, I am not really eager to invest exorbitant sums of money myself just yet in the Disney Princess collection. Sean did ask for a pink tutu for his third birthday. I obliged him, but with a tutu and ballet slippers from The Dollar Store.

Luckily his preschool and his little girlfriends all have graciously stepped up, and he has been able to express his adorableness in the forms of Ariel, Snow White, and Sleeping Beauty with joyous abandon. The photo is from preschool, where he donned pink slippers and a blue dress, and played in the kitchen. Probably slaving over a pretend hot stove or something.

And who knows? Maybe with Hanukkah coming up, we can oblige him with more clothes at home. But in the meantime, let's stop making our innocent kids out to be deviants. Let's give them the chance to dress and create and play.

Now please excuse me while I roll up the overlarge sleeves on my husband's flannel shirt and get back to the work of being a mom.

Mommy's Little Helpers

2010-11-05T20:59:00.001-07:00

I joke that whomever Trader Joe is, he ought to be grateful - I am putting his kids through college.

Seriously, though, I go to our local store so often that I know the cashiers, the managers, etc., and they know me. They have watched my cart evolve, from toting a baby carrier in the basket, to seating a toddler in the front, to the latest evolution: my two helpers shopping on their own. Somewhat.

The newest store manage has implemented a very kid-friendly policy. They have a chalkboard and toys at the front of the store, near the watchful eyes of the managers/captains. And they have added mini shopping carts. When Sean and Jayden first discovered them, it was Heaven. And we only had one mishap the first time out, when Sean accidentally bonked into an elderly gentleman's legs. Mr. Grumpalump clearly detested children, but a smile and a "sowwy" from Seanie is enough to melt even the most difficult customer's resolve.

This last visit, I grabbed a grownup cart for things like eggs and pumpkins, but the boys handled the rest. I would follow my list, pushing my big cart down the aisle, and they followed behind at a good distance like little ducklings - close enough to keep tabs on them, yet far enough behind not to slam into my ankles.

When we got to the checkout, the cashier/manager was worried as the boys vied to hand him items as quick as they could. "Um, you have four hands and I only have two!" He said. But they soon got in a rhythm, and the gentleman complimented me on my helpers. "Enjoy it," he said. "My kids are tweens and teen-agers and they don't want to help, ever!"

Excellent advice.

At one point in our shopping excursion, I saw the boys standing over near the crackers/rice cakes/chips, having a deep discussion about how many bags of Snap Peas we needed. I had a glimpse of how life will be when they are much older and it was really precious.

I will exploit the boys' willingness to work for as long as I can. And enjoy every minute of watching them grow and learn and help.

Happy Halloween!

2010-10-31T21:07:00.001-07:00

After one party and one long night knocking on doors, the boys are finally asleep, visions of sugar dancing in their heads.
The party doubled as a housewarming for Emmy, one of Sean's little girlfriends at preschool who recently moved to the area. When Emmy saw that we'd arrived, her face lit up and she grabbed Sean's hand. Then she essentially dragged him around the party, making sure she knew where he was at all times.

For his part, he mostly held her hand and smiled a lot. Dave shook his head as he watched his son follow a cute girl all around with that moony smile on his face. "Get used to it, son," he sighed.

We rushed home, stuffed dinner in our craws, and headed out to get our treats. At some point, we managed amid the melee to meet up with the Wooldridge clan.

Two firefighters, one Pegasus, and a Super Mario walk around a neighborhood one evening...kind of sounds like the start of a fairly lame joke.

For those fans of Sean's garbageman getup, he did have one more chance to don the duds this weekend: I shlepped him to Pismo Beach yesterday for the Pumpkins on the Pier event. Alas, by the time we actually got out, they had closed the pier part of the event. But we did manage to wander up and down the main drag getting candy from the local businesses. Sean was asleep before we even got to the van, but I felt vindicated that he wore the costume more than once.

And then, as soon as he saw big brother wearing the firefighter gear, he was adamant about being a firefighter. They did look awfully adorable tonight.

Jayden's kindergarten teacher sent a note home reminding us all that we have school tomorrow and to please not have the kids up too late or eating too much sugar. I thought we were doing pretty well on that score, since we packed it in kind of early at 7:30 p.m. (typically bedtime, but we fudged a little)

At one point, the Wooldridge and Oksner children were racing through our house, jumping and waving their arms. And that was before they'd actually consumed any sugar.

Apologies in advance, Jayden's kindergarten teacher! Tomorrow is going to be a long day for you, I fear...

Chronicles of Oksnernia

Love the Honesty

When I draw their bath with extra warm water, I tell the boys that I am making Jayden & Seanie Stew. Then we laugh about how yummy (or gross!) that would taste.

Last night, Sean announced, "I don't think you want to eat the stew, mommy. I just peed in it."

Why, Mommy?

Toot, Toot

Today I Ate a Rainbow! Or At Least, I Will...

Explaining Concepts

Going from the Gut

Makes Fun of Stuff!

I *Heart* Trader Joe's

First-World Problems

Happy Halloween!

Tiger on the Loose!

My Shattered Hometown: Seal Beach

HAPPY 4th BIRTHDAY, SEAN GABRIEL!

We Won!

Signs of the Times

The Harvard App is Pre-Filled In

Bento Dina's Site Yet?

A Star is Made

The Mother of All Critiques

Little Swinger

A Poohpy Movie Experience

The Truth Hurts

True, That. But Still...

Jayden was playing with his Thomas trains and said that Daisy and Percy had a baby train. "I didn't know they were married..." I responded. "They're not, mommy. They did it like animals do. Animals don't get married and have a big party, and neither do trains."

Don't Make Fun!

Harvest Time

Happy Anniversary, Baby!

Makes Fun of Stuff

Someday Seanie and I Will Laugh at This One...

Happy Birthday "Baby"

Autism Now on PBS NewsHour

The Real Octomom

Yes, and Then Some

A Yawn is Just a Natural Bodily Function

Home Again, Home Again Jiggity Jig

A Gut Feeling

Say WHAT?

Campy Weekend

And the winner is...

Every Jewish Mother's Dream

WALK to Remember

Taggers Not-So Anonymous

Green with Joy

So Close, So Far Away

Heartbreakers

The Terrible Threes

Adventures in Toilet Training...

All Aboard!

A Feather in his Cap

'Twas the Night Before Breakfast...

Soc(cer) it to Me

Not that there's anything wrong with that...

Mommy's Little Helpers

Happy Halloween!

I Heart Trader Joe's