Soccer, Mon

I was giggling to the point I was drawing attention. So, here's what happened. It was James' first day of soccer practice. He looked the part - new cleats, red Adidas socks, strong shin guards (I know they're strong because he kept asking me to kick him in the shins to make sure they worked). We drove up and joined the "where do we go - what do we do now" crowd. And at 11:30 the adults and children were called over to the orange line on the field.

Coach Cann introduced himself and was met with the stares of many confused five year-olds. You see, Coach Cann has a decidedly thick island accent of the "Hey, Mon" variety. After a few minutes, the kids seemed to warm up to the cadence of this Jamaican accent. And the mini cleats seemed to do their best when he said, "Repeat after me - Hi, Coach Cann."

Stop. Now, before you continue reading you have to practice saying some phrases outloud with a Jamaican accent. The story just isn't funny unless you hear it as you go. So here are a few..."Yuh did see dat?" or "Mi love chaklit cake with nuff icenin." or "No womon, no cry."

Okay, back to the story. When they all met Coach Junior(or Coooach Juuun"a" as the head coach pronounced it) and in unison they repeated in a distinct Jamaican accent, "Hi, Coooach "Juuun'a'!" I couldn't help but giggle. Twenty kids imitating perfectly what they heard.

Anyhow, the "repeat after me's" and the Jamaican accents that followed continued to give me the giggles. I brought home a decidedly better dribbler and my own little Rastafarian. Hey, Mon... it doesn't get any better than this.

March Trampoline Madness

The Madness has spilled into the backyard. Today the brackets were drawn and destiny was on the line. Those who follow seater-war eagerly anticipated this famed competition. Here's how it looked...

Games of note:

Ben vs. Ridi - proved to be one of the most exciting games of all - to have such giants meet in such an early round gave early hype to the contest. But, Ben's pattented spin seater proved to be triumphant.

Josh vs. C (the wild card - meaning Chase or Catherine) - Catherine sadly lasted one jump remembering too late that nylons have poor trampoline grip.

James vs. Ben - James was able to power jump Ben all of the way off the trampoline.

Mimi vs. Josh - the handshake to begin the match included a kiss - but was it legal?!

Roy vs. Ben - Ben never laughed harder.

Angie vs. Josh - the longest match of the day - both were red and sweating by the time Angie finally triumphed.

The Championship Handshake

Go James!

Number Nine won the entire tournament!

Chase held his own, and stayed smiling...

even after this!

Mr. Potato

Chase had a rough morning. He cried on and off for nearly two hours (two hours being the amount of time to wash and dry Blankey Blue). In order to distract him I suggested playing cars, finger puppets, and even taking a shower - but he was not taking the bait. The only thing he wanted was his blue...until out of the blue he said "potato."

"Do you want a potato, Chase?"

"Yes, tato, taaatooo!"

Well, I am wise enough to know that Chase had been in the fridge earlier, had probably seen the potatoes I had gotten at Draeger's, and wanted food as a distraction to ease his pain. But, instead of baking that potato for a mid-morning snack - I tried something off-the-wall (something to hopefully get Chase smiling and clean)...

I went and got the raw potato and with potato in hand asked Chase, "Did you want the potato to take a shower with you?" without giving him time to respond I turned and asked the potato,

"Would you, Mr. Potato, like to take a shower and wash your body and draw pictures of buses in the steam and splash in the water with Chase?"

I am grateful to report that the potato said yes to me and that Chase quickly dried his tears. What a happy shower - Mr. Potato may be joining us again (I know that James has already requested his company during his bath tonight).

Here is a picture with Chase gently holding Mr. Potato - who is wrapped in his own wash cloth.

Wall Street

This is the Wall Street image most people think of...

...here was my reality. This picture was taken a year ago at the Wall Street Subway stop. We were taking the 4/5 who knows where. The plastic was over the stroller and no one in a suit was offering to help - sometimes I complained - but in retrospect, my arms were a lot stronger then they are now.

I have thought about it and life can be seen as a series of doors and stairs. The only truth I know is that there is a lot of climbing and a lot of options - which door and which stair. But the day that I feel like I have arrived or like there isn't anything to change about myself, is a terrible day. Because it is only in the climbing that we grow. Here are a few things I have learned (and relearned) about myself and life the last few months:

1. Hard things suck...but what a gift to have friends and family support me
2. Its actually ok to give in and not know what tomorrow holds - its really hard, but the less control I scramble for, the more free I feel
3. The more love and forgiveness I feel, the happier I am--real happiness
4. I'm ok - "just as I am" (thank you Bridget Jones)
5. I am such a wonderfully blessed woman - I really feel lucky that I have a James and a Chase - my life is richer looking at life through their eyes
6. Life is fun - and worth dancing through - really dancing - and boy did I dance to "Hey Ya" today (thank you Outkast)

In Our Frigidaire

BEAR IN THERE
There's a Polar Bear

In our Frigidaire--
He likes it 'cause it's cold in there.

With his seat in the meat

And his face in the fish

And his big hairy paws

In the buttery dish,

He's nibbling the noodles,

He's munching the rice,

He's slurping the soda,

He's licking the ice.

And he lets out a roar

If you open the door.

And it gives me a scare

To know he's in there--

That Polary Bear
In our Fridgitydaire.

-Shel Silverstein

Chase is indeed our polary bear, always in the frigidaire. And his less-than hairy paws are all over the butter. He also tends to change the temperature to "coldest," systematically freezing strawberries, cheese, and water. I can attest "it gives me a scare/To know he's in there!"

Crocodile Tears

Today at gymnastics, James landed funny and twisted his ankle. His coach brought him an ice pack - and I watched as he tried to hold back the tears. His little lips were quivering, and he was trying to avoid eye contact with anyone, but he looked up and caught my eye. He couldn't hold it any longer - a tear or two ran down his face. But, then he looked away, trying his mightiest to be brave.

Looking at his little face, I was flooded with that feeling, trying to hold back my own tears, trying to be brave, but feeling so sad inside. I felt so much compassion - not just for his little ankle (which will be just fine) - but that he is old enough to even think about holding it in. What a tragic circumstance. When babies are distraught - there is no public awareness. They could care less about bawling, throwing tantrums, shouting out in pain. But as adults, we care...or perhaps we want to avoid questions. Questions like, "Are you alright?" Its kind of a silly question - obviously, if someone has crossed the threshold from trying-to-be-brave and is actually welling up there is something wrong. I have made a solemn promise to myself - that I will avoid this question. That I will instead sympathetically smile, give someone that knowing touch, just change the subject and not bring it up unless they want to, or simply say, "I'm sorry." These are the things that help the sad two year old (and I guess me).

I will now start mourning for James - I hate the idea that he has to become so publicly aware - isn't he too young?! I wish we could all be raw and real - but sometimes that doesn't help heal the hurt either. Sometimes just making it through until we are in a safe place to release our burdens - in James' case the car ride home - is the best way. Thank goodness for safe places.

Starry Night

James named his cookie art - Starry Night - and said, "Doesn't it look like a starry night?" I asked him how he thought of the name. He replied, "I didn't, the guy with his ear cut off did." Anyhow, here are the two - for comparison. I think he's right - it does indeed look like Van Gogh's Starry Night - or just a starry night.

Tangent 1 - I remember taking a road trip down to see the Van Gogh exhibit when it came to the Getty. There were insane crowds - but they provided a good chance to be "accidentally pushed" inches away from the canvas to really admire his brush strokes.

Tangent 2 - The cookie art resulted from a desperate situation. I started making cookies (which I do every other dayish). But, this time, I was an egg short. In an attempt to make it work, I used the last egg and then an egg-amount of water (whatever that is). The dough was great. The cookies were very flat. So, I decided that decorating the pancake cookies would be the perfect way to mask the mess up.

Tangent 3 - I took a Native American Lit class - and for our final project we went to Seven Mile Canyon looking for petroglyphs and trying to experience what we read. That night as we camped, one of the girls played Starry Night on her guitar and sang. I have never heard anything so beautiful. Josh Groban does have a nice version - it just seems more befitting to a solo guitar under the stars.

Tangent 4 - "Look, the star is out..." We used to plagiarize the movie Madagascar, because there are no visible stars in Manhattan. But, I love the stars and am glad to see them here. I find myself captivated on a dark night.

Stupendous Man

This "mysterious masked man" is none other than Stupdendous Man! Do you see the resemblance to my own James - it looks like him, but its not.

James literally loves Calvin and Hobbes more than anything else. He will read the entire collection of comics for hours at a time. The only sound you will hear coming from the bedroom is hysterical laughter - hysterical! Its my favorite sound in the entire world -- what is your favorite sound?

Why "Cheerios"?

I would like to state, for the record, I do not like Cheerios. Not even one bit. I actually think it smells a bit like goat food - on quiet mornings I can literally be heard saying, "This smells like goat food." But, the strangest thing happened when I was pregnant with James and Chase. About two weeks into both pregnancies I started craving Cheerios - not the honey nut or apple cinnamon - just the plain old Cheerios. I ate it and ate it and ate it. I loved it, I needed it. I know its high in folic acid - but really.

Anyway, I decided to call this blog, Cheerios--to write about the things I both love and hate.