From sight words to "reading" words

Cary has been showing signs lately that he really wants to know how to read. He picks up anything he can find with words on it and asks us, "What does this word say? What does this word say?"

I told my Mom -- who has a Master's in early childhood education -- and she told me to start teaching him to recognize simple "sight words," words that every person who can read just recognizes from rote memory, without having to sound out or use context clues to figure out. I looked up "sight words" online and found there were a ton! But my sister, also an educator, told me to focus on the Dolch sight words -- and only on the very, very first level.

So about a month ago I put up this collection of words on the wall in front of their activity table, so they could see it every day.

I put the words up with a different word next to 'my' but had to take it down when Cary said, "Mommy, you forgot 'of'." So I had to write 'of' on a post-it. He now tells me I don't have "he." But I haven't gotten around to getting "he" up there yet.

And every now and then, we'd go over the words. We'd only do a few at a time, and when they got bored, I'd stop. I was really surprised at how quickly they picked up the words, especially Cary. Sometimes, I would even see Cary mouthing the words to himself, on his own. (That boy loves the written word!)

When I talked to Tahira about it, she told me that Cary was ready to start reading and suggested the BOB books. But I looked at them and thought that at 3.5, he just wasn't ready. He can recognize a few words by sight (thus the point of "sight words"), but he can't read. I figured I'd wait until they turned 4.

But last night, we were reading "Green Eggs and Ham," and on a whim, I asked Cary to help me read a couple pages. And I have to say, he did way better than I thought he would, not just recognizing sight words, but remembering the words from (far too) many readings of the book, and also trying to sound some words out. Good ole Dr. Seuss really works!

Not to be outdone, Dean tried his hand at it, too. Bless his heart. :-)

 It is really amazing to see my boys even attempt to read! One of these days, they'll be picking up "Game of Thrones" to read along with me! (At the rate I'm going with Book 2, they might finish the series before I do. Not joking.)

The point is, now I'm considering buying the BOB books, but I'm going to talk to their preschool teachers next week at their parent-teacher conference first. I want to make sure anything I'm doing is helping and not hurting. And I also need tips on how to work with Cary, who is clearly farther ahead than his brother (in this area), without doing any damage to Dean's self-esteem or making him think that reading is "Cary's thing."

Because, really, each of them is doing really great at pre-reading skills, and I'm so, so proud of them both!

*Not sure why these videos aren't working. Grrrr! You'll have to trust me that they're both pretty cute.

What I gleaned from my day on the farm

On Saturday I had to go to a "glean" at a local farm to cover it -- journalist-style -- for a client.

The glean was pretty awesome. The group I was covering, Gather Baltimore, goes to farms and -- after working for an hour or so doing something the farmer needs, like removing stakes and ropes from harvested crops -- gets to go through the "leftover" harvest and pick perfectly useable produce to donate to soup kitchens, homeless shelters and inner-city farm stands.

A photographer and I spent two hours in the cold with the 50 or so volunteers, documenting the glean. We also spent time talking candidly with the farmer - George Zahradka, a man in his 40s whose whole life has been spent farming, and who makes pennies on each head of broccoli or bunch of kale he sells, but works seven days a week, bending and pulling and tilling and irrigating, all so we can eat his hard-earned bounty.

George taught me a lot about the brainwashing of today's consumer, who has been made to believe that potatoes with dirt on them are less desirable than those that are squeaky clean (it's actually the opposite, he says, and hellooo? Potatoes come from the GROUND) or that cauliflower should be snow white, when really it's so much better for you when it's been sun-kissed and has a tinge of yellow. Who knew?

This quaint little farmhouse sat toward the back of the 72-acre-portion of Zahradka Farm. Much to my dismay, the farmer and his family do not actually live in it. They rent the land from the county -- at a cost of nearly $150,000 a year!

And look! Here I am, in front of that little farmhouse. (There's my trusty reporter's notebook on the ground - just like old times!)

I was so humbled by the experience of being out there on that farm; I can't wait until my kids are old enough to get out there with me and work the land a little bit. It certainly makes you respect a whole lot more the people who break their backs to get us good food to eat. And it also gives a whole new respect for the food itself.

As an example, the farmer gave me a gorgeous head of caulifower -- one with a touch of gold from the sun. I admitted to one of the volunteers later that I actually didn't know what to do with it. We didn't really eat cauliflower much growing up, and when we did, it was frozen in a bag and mixed with broccoli or other veggies. As a result, I kinda considered cauliflower a throwaway vegetable, puny and tasteless and not all that exciting.

But the volunteer gave me the easiest and most delicious recipe for roasted cauliflower, which I tried last night. It's just chopped cauliflower, tossed with olive oil, garlic powder and little salt and pepper, and then baked in the oven for 30 minutes on 400-degrees.

It was soooo good, and so easy -- I can't believe I've been ignorant to this for so long! And I explained to the kids that a farmer grew this cauliflower just so people like us could eat it. And that he works really hard to make sure his food is delicious and healthy. It made me feel good to talk to the kids about where the food came from and to actually KNOW the man who grew it.

We are grocery store people; I don't know if that will ever change fully. But I really do want to do more active supporting of our small local farmers -- and more active eating of the delicious real foods they grow.

Maybe a CSA is in our near future!

Great evening at home with the kids

When I got home last night the kids were in dress-up mode.

In honor of Movember, I decided to heighten the fun and add stick-on mustaches to their get-ups. But the Davises were not as enthralled with this idea as I was. 

I had to bribe Cary and Dean to keep theirs on long enough for me to snap a picture, and Clair isn't old enough to understand bribing, so she just cried and then ripped hers off and threw it on the floor.

(Note: That dinosaur costume is really made for someone Clair's size, but Cary refused to take it off all night. He made us all call him "Dinosaur Cary" and he roared at us 'til bedtime.)

Later on in the night, the kids were all "co-wing" -- Clairspeak for "coloring" -- with pens and stray pieces of paper. This happens quite a bit; there's lots of scribbling and pen-poking and usually nothing really worth noting comes out of their artistry.

But last night, Dean drew an actual person! For the first time ever! 

"It's you, Mommy," he said. "On the beach!"

Awwww. I was really very impressed. One of the fascinating things about parenting is watching how children develop. Sometimes you can see things happening gradually, as with Cary right now and pre-reading. And other times, it's scribble, scribble, scribble, scribble, and then BAM! a stick-figure with a head, eyes, legs and curly hair!

And finally, I felt good about our decision to get our butts to church again when this conversation happened:

Clair, climbing up the stairs, whining because she thinks she's going to fall: "Ah fall! Ah fall!"
Me to the boys: "Cary and Dean, go tell your sister she's OK and that she's not going to fall."
Cary: "Clair, it's OK. Don't be scared. God is always with you."

Isn't that so sweet? I don't think Clair bought Cary's encouragement, because I had to stop what I was doing and come get my poor whining girl, frozen on the stairs. But it doesn't matter. I felt so great about Cary (CARY!) rushing to help his sister, and remembering what they're learning in children's church when he did. 

A rare moment of Cary looking sweetly at Clair. Could we be turning a corner?

And then we all had dinner together, all five of us, and there was cookie-cake for dessert, gifted to us by a friend! 

All in all, it was a really, really good night.

(Until I woke up at 4 in the morning in a full-on heart-racing, blood-coursing in my ears, can't regulate my breathing panic. But that's a post for another day.)

Ted the Turkey

Last night, we all went to a pre-school potluck at the boys' school, where we got to eat lots of delicious food and hear the boys' class sing a super cute song about Ted the Turkey.

I think it is so funny how the boys were singing this song at the tops of their lungs in the bed at night when they were supposed to be sleeping, but on stage, they suddenly became bashful.

Bashful or no, aren't these little performances the cutest?! I always feel so proud of my little babies, getting up there in front of everyone and singing so sweetly. I'm so grateful to have them in my life.

I love my little turkeys!

Think inside the box!

I brought a Staples box home from work last night.

They played with this "rocketship" for over an hour.

You can't tell from the picture, but the box has been decorated with elaborate curlycues in black pen, and also lots of tiny holes from them poking the pen into the cardboard. ("It needs more holes, Mommy!" they said, enthusiastically poking away. They even tried poking holes with a crayon, but learned quickly that crayons break if you press them too hard. See? They're learning about FORCE! That's science and I didn't even have to stop fixing dinner for them to learn about it. Yay! But I digress. As usual.)

Anyway, as I am in the middle of making out the list of things to get for the kids for Christmas -- and also collecting lots of great ideas from friends who commented on yesterday's post -- I was glad to be reminded by Cary and Dean last night that sometimes the best toys, and best learning experiences, don't cost a thing.

Trying to beat the writer gene out of my children

OK, the title of this post is very much hyperbole.

I'm not really trying to beat the writer gene out of my children. I don't even know if all three of my children have it. But Lester is a former newspaperman and writer and I am a former newspaper gal and writer. Both of us now work "in communications," which is a euphemism for, "We have no math or science skills."

All respect to my fellow communicators out there, really! There's nothing wrong with being good at communicating; there's a HUGE need in this world for people who can read, write and convey thoughts in a way that people can understand. I totally understand that and appreciate it.
It's just that we want our children to:

1. Get out of our house one day.
2. Get out of our house one day.

And so, we want them to have the confidence and the ability to take on math- and science-related professions, should they so choose. Because that's where the jobs are.

We think that most likely, our kids will be inherently good at language-related stuff, because of their family make-up. My Mom's an excellent writer and a reader (nonfiction, mostly); my Dad's a poet and a voluminous reader (fiction and autobiographies, mostly); my sister Kadija would rather read books than do almost anything. She'll read anything you put in front of her. Tahira, the language arts teacher, is the exact same way. Reading is our common hobby. And there are no shortage of words in our extended family -- well, except when it comes to addressing difficult, inter-personal topics, but that is another story altogether.

Anyway, if our kids are anything like we are, we think we will have to work a little harder at getting them to love math and science, and feel comfortable and confident about their abilities to master those topics. I know when I go to board meetings at the Baltimore Urban Debate League, and the finance people start going over the financials, my brain shuts. off. I pretend like I have a clue what they're saying, or that I understand the confusing columns and rows of figures. But ummm. No. Not even a little.

So, I am really interested in what any of you science and math-y types do with your kids that I might not think to do, being a word-y person.

Already, we've started doing a few very rudimentary "experiments," which have gone over very well with the kids. They call it "doing a science."

One day we did the age-old trick of using food dye to change water in clear plastic cups different colors. Another day we put ice in bowls and watched it turn into water and talked about why cold things melt.

One fun one was putting M&M's in water and watching the colors of the candy leach out into the water, making beautiful colors (I considered this science and art). And then, if we were very patient, we could see the "M" float off into the water (or at least pieces of the "M"). Bonus: When we were done, we got to eat M&M's!

So sad that red dye No. 5 is so darn tasty.

Dean said, "Mommy, it looks like a rainbow!"

When the pack of M&M's was gone, Clair was beside herself. I think we've turned her off of science forever.

We also did a fun experiment where I put a bunch of different fruits and vegetables into a bag, blindfolded the kids and had them guess what they had in their hands just by feeling and smelling.

But I'm running out of ideas that are simple and cheap and not dangerous or over their heads. And I also am not sure what to do to encourage their math skills, besides endless counting of objects. Are there math "projects" we can do with 3-year-olds?

What do you guys do to make math and science fun for your kids? Help me turn these kids into software engineers or venture capitalists or CFOs, please. Or else when they decide they want to be journalists (God help us!) and are still living in our house at age 30, we will blame YOU.

'Till next year, soccer. We'll miss you (sorta)

Soccer ended on Saturday with a parents-vs.-kids game.

Here's four of the 3-year-old teams. There are two more teams not represented. All of these kids were on the field, against me and maybe half a dozen parents. No wonder we got our butts kicked.

I played my heart out at the game. I even (accidentally) kicked the ball into a small child's head. But the kids were too much for us old and tired parents. We didn't actually keep score, but believe me - we lost. Too much running back and forth; not enough caffeine.

But the kids didn't care one bit about who won the game. They didn't even care all that much about the pizza party in the church hall after the game. What did they care about? Trophies!

Clair's like, "I don't have a trophy to lift, so I'll just lift my shirt!"

Three of our teammates missed the last game, and one, Milly, had to leave right after the game for a birthday party. So our team photo looks pretty sad. Expect for Hugo, who looks like the happiest kid ever.

Coach Davis and his family. (Look, my boys are actually smiling!)

Clair was a good soccer sister and supported her family by accessorizing and being super cute.

Soccer balls -- in the hair! Boo-ya!

Go team!

This girl is great at kicking the soccer ball and running around and being energetic. I can't wait until she can play!

I have to say, Lester and I have both been somewhat eager to get through the season so that we could have our Tuesday evenings and Saturday mornings free for awhile -- at least until after the holidays, when we plan to find new things for them to do to keep their little minds and bodies engaged.

We're contemplating swimming lessons in February for the whole family and music classes for Clair on Sunday mornings before church (Sundays in 2014 are going to be crazy long days) and there's always Science Alive on Saturday mornings at the Masonville Cove. The one on Jan. 4th is about worms; I can't wait for that one, since we never did "dig for earthworms after a good rain," per the boys' synapse checklist.

But, honestly, "free time" might just be going the way of the rotary phone. Our weekends are already filling up with friends' events and school activities and work obligations and holiday preparations and library visits and on and on and on.

We learned on Sunday that there are all sorts of great ways to get involved in our new church (something we both really want to do), but most of the activities/classes/ministries meet on weeknights, of course.

And I also have started a list of things to accomplish over the next several weeks (including gather a ton of stuff for Freecycle; sort through the kids' clothes; come up with a reasonable Christmas shopping list and budget, etc.) and every time I turn around, I'm adding something to it.

So, the soccer season has ended, but our calendar is not really all that empty.

But that's OK. The family that runs ragged together stays together, right? The good news is, we're all having a lot of fun. And if I said all this hustle-bustle was a 100-percent drag, I'd be exaggerating by about 90-percent.

I enjoy our busy lives, and doing things with and for my kids. And in this season of gratitude, I'm incredibly grateful that we get this time together. 

Go Team Davis!

Bringing my blog back up-to-date

The last few weeks have been so jam-packed, I haven't had time to properly blog. My goal is to get something down at least five times a week, but that is like a pipe dream, even on the best weeks.

So lots of stuff gets unrecorded, and lots of thoughts get unsaid. But there's nothing to do but to jump right back into it. So here goes.

I'll start with a hodge-podge of things that happened over the course of the last couple weeks or so.

You already saw the kids in their adorable Halloween costumes, but you didn't get to see MOI.

I'm the Queen Bee, y'all. Bzzzz.

Momma Bee went to the boys' school for their Halloween party. While there, I had to be the "kid" and the boys were the teachers. "Sit down, Mommy!" they said. "Criss-cross applesauce!"

Here they are showing me what day of the week it is. I also learned what the weather was. And, if I was very good, I could possibly have gotten to be the line-leader or the door-holder. But I don't remember earning any of those things. I must not have been very good.

Last week, Lester got invited to go to "Thank the elected officials night" at The National Aquarium, even though he's not an elected official. But his boss is, and so we joined him there for a nighttime reception, dolphin show and free rein of the awesome Baltimore aquarium. (If you haven't been, it's really quite nice.)

There were lots of questions about where dolphins go poop (and lots of "ewwwing") and lots of emphatic declarations that jellyfish DO give us jelly, Mommy. "That's why they're called JELLYfish!" Duh.

My favorite is the boysenberry jellyfish. Peach is pretty tasty too.

We got to take home this snapshot of us holding Photoshopped puffins. Cary, who was in no mood to participate with the photographer's requests, was heartbroken when he realized that his pouty refusals to hold his hands out meant he didn't get to 'hold' a puffin when the picture came out. Oh well. Life lesson, Cary. It'll learn ya.

In other news, I'm happy to say, after an October of jam-packed Sundays, we went to the church we like two weekends in a row and pretty much decided we want to join. But first we're going to attend a newcomer's reception this Sunday and ask a few more questions, just to be sure.

I'm excited about possibly joining a church again. But I will be even more glad when Lester and I can both sit in the sanctuary and hear the message together, as opposed to what usually happens: One of us ends up in the lobby with Clair, who refuses to sit still during the lesson and screams bloody murder when we try to leave her in the (very sweet and cute) little nursery. Ugh.

For now, I'll just be happy that we're getting our butts up and getting ourselves to church again. Baby steps, right?

After church last weekend, we ended up going grocery shopping as a family, which we rarely do because hello -- three kids? Wegman's is near the church, so we went there, which was a total blessing! The kids were starving after church, so I took them through the prepared foods section of the grocery store and bought lunch, which we ate upstairs while Lester took the list and shopped.

When the kids were done eating, we just went over and played in the grocery store's children's area until Lester got the car loaded and came back to get us. Easy peasy.

Seriously, whoever came up with the brilliant idea to have a children's area near a dining area, near a bank of bathrooms, upstairs from a huge supermarket -- that person is a bonafide, A No. 1 genius.

We can't afford to shop at Wegman's all the time -- especially when you factor in having to feed the lot of us while we're there, instead of eating lunch at home. But when we have to do it, I'm grateful that we have it as an option. (Also, I made the easiest delicious butternut squash for dinner, thanks to Wegman's handy-dandy "buy a vegetable, we'll dice it for you" service. I love Wegman's!)

And lastly, I have to say how excited I was when Cary came padding into our room yesterday morning (a half-hour before it was time to wake-up, but I'll forgive him) and said, "Look, Mommy." Then, slowly, pointing to each word with his little finger:  'A. Is. For.'"

He read that!

Then he pointed to the alligator and said "Alligator. A. Is For. ALLIGATOR!"

Best 6:15 wake-up call I ever had.

Tomorrow is the end of the soccer season -- there's a parents vs. kids soccer game and a pizza party! Cary and Dean are beside themselves with excitement.

Happy weekend everybody!

The 70s had it right when it comes to peanut butter. But maybe not coffee.

Do you guys remember that coffee commercial from the 70s when a woman is miffed that her husband has a second cup of someone else's coffee, but not hers? "That's funny," she thinks. "Jim (or Bill or Bob or something 70s like that) never has a second cup at home."

Maybe it was Folger's? Let's just say it was.

Well, I had my own Folger's coffee moment yesterday.

Michelle, giving me a recap of her day with the kids: "Oh, I shared some of my peanut butter with them today. They loved it."

Me: "Really? All of them? They always say they don't like peanut butter. Especially Dean."

Michelle: "No, they all loved it."

Me: "Dean, you always tell me you don't like peanut butter."

Dean: "No. I just don't like the peanut butter YOU buy."

This is the moment, folks, where I decided once and for all that children will not die if there's a little bit of yummy stuff added to some of the things they eat. And I'm not a terrible parent if their lips touch sugar sometimes.

And so goodbye ultra-bitter, gritty, oily, made-in-the-woods by free-ranging squirrels peanut butter we usually buy. Hello what Michelle gave them that they actually liked: good old-fashioned Jif.

We'll buy the "natural" Jif, just to make Lester and me feel better, though. Otherwise we'll be judged right out of our Trader Joe's and Whole Foods, organic-everything loving circles.

(I joke. But only a little.)

In pursuit of self-sufficient children

A very wise friend of mine posted this on Facebook last night:

A man found a cocoon of a butterfly. One day a small opening appeared. He sat and watched the butterfly for several hours as it struggled to squeeze its body through the tiny hole. Then it stopped, as if it couldn’t go any further. So the man decided to help the butterfly. He took a pair of scissors and carefully snipped the remaining bits of cocoon. The butterfly emerged easily but it had a swollen body and shriveled wings. The man continued to watch it, expecting that any minute the wings would enlarge and expand enough to support the body. Neither happened. In fact, the butterfly spent the rest of its life crawling around. It was never able to fly.

What the man in his kindness and haste didn’t understand is that the restricting cocoon and the struggle required by the butterfly to get through the opening was a way of forcing the fluid from the body into the wings so that it would be ready for flight once that was achieved. Sometimes struggles are exactly what we need in our lives. Going through life with no obstacles would cripple us. Without challenges, we will never be as strong as we could have been and we will never fly.

My friend’s takeaway (which I think is spot on) was this: Our “kindness and haste” is really a mask for “control and impatience.” We don’t like to see those we love struggle, but our attempts to make things easy for them really just stunts their growth (maturity). Put down the scissors and pack up the cape. Let them beat their wings; then watch beauty emerge and take flight.

How beautiful and poignant is that?

Change the word “man” in the little parable above to “Mom” and the word “butterfly” to “child,” and you are talking about me.

When toys are “lost” in the house, I always say things to Cary and Dean like, “Children have to keep up with their own things.” But then 10 seconds later, after so much whining, I always stop what I’m doing and look for that thing they can’t find.

I tell them, “Sure, you can get down from the table after eating nothing I’ve fixed. But there will not be any snack before bed.” But then when they say they’re hungry later, I feel PHYSICALLY incapable of refusing them something to eat. I’m like a Mommy-zombie, headed for the kitchen. “Must. Feed. Offspring.”

I totally agree with this post about the best way to praise kids to teach them about commitment and sticking with challenges and not giving up when things get hard:

But when Dean says, “Look at my Lego tower, Mommy!” the first thing out of my mouth is, “That’s an amazing tower! What a great builder you are! Awesome job, Dean.” I  have a really hard time remembering that I’m supposed to be praising the effort, the process, the fact that he didn’t give up the three times the tower fell, but kept going until he was done.

(And I have an even harder time remembering to uphold the rule that THEY are supposed to be the ones on all fours picking up the Legos when they’re through.)

Today I read Laura C.’s great post about this book (which I plan to get and read cover-to-cover): "Cleaning House: A Mom's Twelve Month Experiment to Rid Her House of Youth Entitlement.” 

And I thought about how we do ask the boys to take their plates and utensils off the table after meals, but other than that small responsibility, they tear through the house like maniacs, making fantastic messes and emphatic demands, all, “I don’t LIKE these kind of waffles! I’m too TIRED to put my toys away. I want more milk!”- la–dee-dah-ain’t-life-grand?

Of course I know they’re 3-and-a-half. And this is the perfect time to be la-dee-dah’ing. Life only gets harder as they get older and I want them to be carefree and unburdened now, knowing that they can depend on Lester and me for the things they really need.

It’s the determining what the “things they really need” really are that’s the problem.

Remember my post from a few weeks back about me helicopter-momming my way into Cary getting a reward at school? Ugh. I still think about that from time to time and cringe. This is not the Mom I imagined I would be, folks. When thinking as early marrieds about what good things we wanted our future children to be, the adjective that came up most often was “self-sufficient.”

I told a co-worker that once and she said, “Well, I would think you’d want your children to be happy.” To which I said, “If we help them become self-sufficient, and at some point in their lives they find themselves unhappy (which is bound to happen), then they will know how to figure out what to do to make themselves happy.”

I felt really wise when I said that. Of course, I had zero children then. Wisdom is wasted on the young and well-rested. Hahaha!

But – as with most things – reading and internalizing and reading some more always makes a difference. I'm glad I keep getting reminders through Facebook posts, blogfriends and newspaper articles about this topic. 

I know we can get this right. With God's help, we will make these children self-sufficient if it’s the last thing we do.

Clair, sister of brothers.

Clair's vocabulary has skyrocketed in the last couple months, and it is a real joy to listen to her express herself in creative and hilarious ways. Her personality, too -- which was always big -- has heightened now that she has more she can say, and a better understanding of the way the world works.

She laughs all the time, deep belly laughs that bring tears to her eyes -- and ours. The cutest thing is that she is half the time laughing at her own antics or silliness. She is so much fun.

The latest thing that made Clair crack herself up underscored what it must be like to be the little sister of two rowdy brothers.

It was the end of the night, and I sat her on her changing table. As I leaned in to kiss her goodnight, she let out a deep belch.

"Clair!" I said, with mock surprise. "Say excuse me!"

"Scu me," she said, smiling. Then her eyes lit up.

"BURP!" she said -- and cracked up, proud of herself for knowing the word.

"Yes, you burped," I laughed.

She giggled so hard, I started laughing harder and we were both standing there laughing like idiots.

After I put her to bed I thought to myself how well she'll fit in with Cary and Dean when she gets older. She finds them absolutely hilarious; she isn't afraid to get knocked down in a pillow fight or pop one of them upside the head when necessary. And she can burp with the best of 'em.

That's my girl.

I'm still here! Still swamped, but still here!

Hellllllloooooooo!
Do you still remember me?

I so miss blogging, guys. I can't wait for this week to be over, which *should* mean a little downtime at work, at least during my lunch or something, to reflect on life with my kiddos and husband and the world at large.

But for the last few weeks, my work life has been jam-packed! Even when I get home at night, after the kids go to bed, I have been up till 11:30/midnight working. Total suckage.

So much stuff has happened that I'm sure I'll never remember to get down. I never did get to my post about liking my kids (there was a point I wanted to make) and I haven't even had an opportunity to share post-Halloween photos. Blah.

But I had 5 minutes this morning before a call and I wanted to share this photo of the boys, which we snapped last weekend, when we pulled up in front of our house after a lovely afternoon spent at our friend Stacey's house, turned to look in the backseat and found:

Isn't that the sweetest thing? They were just staring up at the DVD player, holding hands, peaceful, blissful and beautiful. I swear one of the sweetest things about being a parent is getting to witness that kind of love.

So imagine how torn I am today, one day after getting a message from the kids' school that Dean had been in an "incident" on the playground. I won't get into it here; it's silly, if you ask me and completely overblown. But suffice it to say, my peaceful, sweet boy Dean -- the one who runs to Clair if she falls and sings to her -- had quite a day yesterday. He was really upset about it most of the evening, and he needed lots of love and attention. I felt so bad for him.

I totally understand that schools need to be safe places for kids, and that staff needs to correct children when they do things they shouldn't. But I just wonder what we've come to that adults think 3-year-olds are supposed to behave like 10-year-olds -- never get frustrated or angry, never have emotions, never act out.

We teach our boys to be peaceful and kind. And you can tell from that photo that they *get* that.

So, I'm OK. Dean's OK. Everything is ... OK.

Halloween week begins

Remember back in the day when we were kids and Halloween was on one day -- Oct. 31?

No more. Now, Halloween is the weekend before Oct. 31, the week leading up to Oct. 31, Oct. 31 and maybe the weekend after.

Needless to say, the endless week of candy and treats pleases my children to no end. I am not thrilled about all the sweets, but it is a real treat for me to see them so excited to be in costumes this year. This is the first year they were actually into it.

Yo! Davis Kiddies! Yo! Davis Kiddies!

DJ Lance Rock and Brobee - best of friends.

At Halloween Member Night at the Science Center, we tried the "Mummies" movie in the IMAX theater. Needless to say, creepy dead people in 3-D did not go over very well with Brobee and DJ Lance Rock. (Parenting fail!)

SCARY Mommy! Broo-hoo-hah-ha-ha!

There's more to come this week at school -- two parties, a parade, scarecrow stuffing and other things I'm sure I'm forgetting.

These kids are gonna be all Halloweened out by the end of the month. And so will I.

This page

This page has been open on my desktop at work since 9:30 a.m.

It is now 5:03 - three minutes past my time to leave - and I have been so busy, I haven't had a chance to write anything.

I intended to write a post about liking my children, but now that will have to come at a later date.

Stay tuned.

Quick catch-up post!

I have 15 minutes before a call, so I thought I'd take 10 to get down for posterity's sake a few things I have been meaning to blog about.  In truth, each of the events could have been its own full post, but in the interest of time (which I never have enough of) this will have to do.

1. Russy and Matty spent a Saturday and Sunday with us, so my sister and her husband could spend their anniversary weekend sans kids. We went to the Harbor, and the Maryland Science Center.

B'more boys!

This photo cracks me up. A dinosaur ROARED and this is the look they both gave. Ha!

Isn't Matty the world's most adorable child? P.S. Please let me tell you about the temper tantrums when it was time to leave this water area (from Clair, of course).

We went to the Charmery, a new super-cute ice cream spot in Hampden, which boasts spoons that change colors when cold! I had salted caramel ice cream; Lester had fig and port wine ice cream! Weird! The kiddos all got gummi bears on their (various flavors of) ice cream, which was really all they wanted.

Clair is eating all my salted caramel ice cream while I try to document this moment!

The owner of The Charmery came over to personally compliment Cary on his "excellent ice cream mustache," complete with goatee!

And we took them to a really awesome farm, where little piglets ran past us, we got to milk a cow, the boys officiated a pig race, and we got to hold little chicks just a day old.

Pale green and peach-colored eggs? Say what?

2. Lester and I went to a really beautiful wedding (remember the aforementioned MACARONI AND CHEESE BAR?? [Whaaat?!]) and my sweetie and I clean up pretty good, if I do say so myself.

3. And we spent the night at my Mom's, which was good because my cousin Nikki (who had just defended her dissertation and so is now Dr. Nikki!) and her family came in town from New Jersey, so we got to see everyone, including my sister's Kadija's kids, who we haven't seen in way too long.

Nikki's daughter, Nia, who is the sweetest 8-year-old girl -- and very tall! Also, Alahna and Kwahli. Hi kids!

Me and my "little" cousin, Nikki.

For perspective, here we are at my Nana's house in Boston circa 1981. That's my cousin Dru sulking in the background.

The kids had a FABULOUS time playing with all their cousins. As usual, there were tears galore when it was time to leave.

This is my nephew, Kalonji, who will be 13 next month. I can't stand it.

This is my brother Haleem and his girlfriend and her baby, Olivia. I was really excited to see Haleem. He almost always misses the family events. Love him so much.

OK, now I'm all caught up. Whew!

Be proud of me!

We all spent the weekend at my Mom's house, because Lester and I went to a wedding in Falls Church (closer to Mom's than to us) and because my cousin Nikki was coming in town with her family and stopped by to see the whole lot of us.

There were a jillion people around, so the boys were in heaven, and as usual, there was lots and lots of food.

Which brings me to the title of this post.

Be proud of me because I sat at this table for hours, talking to my sister, my cousin, Lester and my Mom about all sorts of topics. And I did not have even one piece of that delicious-looking Halloween-themed cake my sister made.

I don't see you sitting there Cake-i-fer.

Not even one, tiny piece!

OK, OK. At the wedding, I did avail myself of the MACARONI AND CHEESE BAR (Whaaat?!) and even though there was wedding cake (which I ate), there was also a full dessert bar -- so I availed myself of that too.

And copious amounts of wine.

But let's focus on the Halloween cake, shall we?

For hours I ignored that devilish thing with that creamy center, covered in chocolate. HOURS!

And when I took that walk last week, I did NOT stop for Peanut Chews.

And I'm having yet another salad for lunch.

I'm so proud of myself I think I deserve an award. A brownie perhaps? (Just kidding!)

Morning person, I am not

Have I ever shared with you just how much of a morning person I am not?

No?

Allow me to list the things I like to do less than wake up early:

• Watch horror movies
• Run/jog
• Deprive myself of chocolate
• Clean up vomit
• Litter
• Pick the shredded cheese out of a salad when I clearly told the server, "No cheese, please."

OK. There are probably many other things, like "watch one of my kids be sick and not be able to help," and "hurt people's feelings," but those kinds of things are givens.

Anyway, it is with that context that I confess: I did not get up this morning to get on the treadmill.

The kids were off from school for some reason, so we didn't have to get up to get them ready, and I decided to take advantage of the extra few minutes of quiet, warmth and comfy-ness. I can't even say I overslept. I was semi-awake but made a conscious decision to snooze. I made it exactly one day.  I suck at follow-through, yo. Especially at 6 a.m..

But OK - I am determined to do something to make up for it.

I just finished my lunch (a salad with tuna, and a very small cup of tomato soup. Not a French fry or a brownie in sight) and now I am going to go for a little walk around our building. It's not the same as power-walking on the treadmill, with my heart rate pumping. But it's something.

(Hmmm. Maybe I'll stop at the gas station on the corner and buy a pack of peanut chews. No! NO! Nooooooo!)

Need more hours in the day!

Here is my schedule today:

6 a.m. - Wake up, reluctantly. Feel like vomiting because I'm so tired.

6:10 - Treadmill for a half-hour brisk walk. (This was my first day trying this. I realllllly intend to keep it up. Please send encouragement.) Feel like dying, because I'm so woefully out of shape.

6:45 - Shower/dress/Make bed/Help kids finish getting ready for school.

7:50 - Drop kids off at school. Run to 7-11 to pick up coffee. Decide not to buy a lottery ticket (This is a big deal, mind you.)

8:30 - Meeting with my boss and a youngster looking for nonprofit work

9 a.m. - Prepare for 9:30 interview. Return/send some email.  (Steal a few minutes to write this blog post.)

9:30 - Interview

10:30  - Interview

11:30 - Interview

1 p.m. - Interview

2 p.m. - Interview

3 p.m. - Leave for assignment

3:30  - Assignment (with a photographer.)

6 p.m. - Hair appointment (We're going to a fancy black tie wedding on Saturday.)

7:30- Go to Target/Walmart for Pull-Ups for boys/diapers for Clair. And also ever-more hair products for me.

9 p.m. - Home/dinner/husband/collapse.

Minus the treadmill, which is new as of today, my life has been looking very much like this lately.
And my weekends have been so jam-packed this month, we haven't even made it back to church -- and won't until NEXT Sunday.

Now I ask you, when I am supposed to blog?

When am I supposed to spend (quality/instructive) time with God?

When am I supposed to get into Book 2 of "Game of Thrones?"

When am I SUPPOSED TO EAT?

Go wash the dishes, Mom!

The other night Cary said to me, "Mommy, we don't need your help anymore with this puzzle. Go wash the dishes."

Go. wash. the. dishes. Wait...what?

It's not so much that my 3-year-old had the audacity to order me to do something (Cary has a long way to go toward understanding his tone, and also what is appropriate to say to adults and what is not. We are working on that. Daily.)

It's that he ordered me to wash the dishes! What is this? 1950?

Careful readers will remember a post from a while back where I detailed the chores-breakdown at our house. In it, I noted that Lester actually washes the dishes the majority of the time in our house. I do my fair share, but it just ends up a lot of times that he does the dishes. So where did that sexist statement come from?

His statement (command?) reminds me of this Modern Love piece: http://www.nytimes.com/2013/10/06/fashion/a-feminists-daughter-finds-love-in-the-kitchen.html?emc=eta1&_r=0

I read Modern Love all the time, but this one was one of the most beautiful and nuanced posts they've run, I think.

It's about a daughter of the feminist movement, her complicated relationship with her own mother and how it colors her relationship with her 10-year-old daughter. It starts off when her daughter lists reasons why she loves her.

"You make my lunch most days,” she began, “and you make dinner,” the blogger says. Other observations followed, including that she was “huggy” and “smart.” But first came the kitchen.



The post goes on to explore the writer's many feelings about being connected to the kitchen. "Why does food service count the most?" she wonders.

But in the end -- as she revisits her childhood, kindly, but not rosily -- she comes to the conclusion that it's not so bad being associated with the kitchen, a warm place where people are fed and nourished in various ways - all important. She says:

I know how much the mundane care of children matters. That is why I stop work when the school day ends and greet my daughter with a hug. I may be tired, stressed out or grumpy; I may bemoan the confinement, the repetition, the career limits. But I do it anyway. I pull away from paid pursuits and open myself to the opportunity to delight in my daughter.

My delight comes freely, inspired by a leggy girl with rich brown eyes who has just come home. But our time together is about more than delight. When I hand her a snack and look into her face, seeking the stories of her day, I intend for her to feel how much she matters. She matters more to me right then than anything I could be doing without her. And we will not have these afternoons forever. 

We will not have these afternoons forever. Or these evenings on our floor between dinner and bedtime, playing Legos, reading books, tumbling off the sofa, playing "monster" or doing puzzles.

Which is why I ignored my child's tone, and his directive, and kept right on helping.

Those dishes can wait. So can the lecture on feminist history. 

And one day in the not-too-far-off future, it'll be Cary's job to do the dishes. 

Mom's birthday weekend re-cap

This weekend, we celebrated my Mom's birthday with a cookout and crabfeast in my parents' backyard.

My Mom's two sisters Fern and Valerie drove down from Boston with my Nana, Nana's boyfriend Mr. Raymond and a family friend. My Uncle Michael and Aunt D'Jenne came from Knightdale, N.C., with two of their 3 kids (their oldest just went off to college in Texas), and my cousin Alexis drove in from Richmond. Add those folks in with my family, Kadija and her family, and a bunch of other cousins, neighbors and friends, and there was a big crowd of people happy to help Mom bring in year 59!

Who is that beautiful woman who looks waaaay younger than 59? Well, that's my amazing Mommy!
And who took that beautiful picture of that beautiful woman? My friend Angel!

Didn't she do a great job? My Mom was thrilled at this photo -- thrilled! -- and that is saying something because she hates all pictures of herself. And my Dad was psyched that the yard looks so nice in the background. (Dad would be excited about something like that.)

I asked Angel to come take portraits of my Mom, her sisters and her mother since they'd all be together, and to also maybe try to get one or two nice photos of my Mom and Dad, since we have no decent photos of the two of them (seriously, the last good photo of them was taken in like 1985 or something). Angel did that, but also took some lovely off-the-cuff photos of just our family milling about being messy and unorganized and loud. She's processing the photos now, but sent a few for me to steal a sneak peek.

It's my Cary! Actually smiling in a photo. Awwww.

Me and my little sister Kadija. Isn't she a pretty girl (when she wants to be)? I love her!

Nana, Auntie Val, Mommy and Auntie Fern. Aren't they beautiful?

It was soooo great to have so much of our family in town for Mom's day. I love having family around. But it is made that much nicer when you can look back at really great pictures of everyone who was there. I'm so grateful to Angel for documenting this special day!

I saw her take some super cute photos of my nephew Matty, and of Clair with Lester, and of Dean. I can't wait to see those, and also see the shots she got of my Dad (who fought me tooth and nail to change out of his working-in-the-yard clothes to go get his picture taken.)

OK, really, I can't wait to see ALL the pictures! The sneak peek did its trick. My appetite is sufficiently whet! I'm so glad to have such talented friends!

P.S. Happy birthday today to my dear grandmother, Rosyth White, who I miss every day. I know you would have been at this party, dancing and laughing and eating all the ice cream. I love you Grandma. I miss you.

Mom's birthday/my anniversary/Angel-takes-photos weekend!

My wonderful Mom's birthday is on Sunday. She'll be (cough, cough, ahem!) years old, but she doesn't look a day over 40.

To surprise her, my Nana (her mom), and her two sisters Fern and Valerie drove down from Boston today!

Aunt Fern is on the far left, my Mom's in the middle. Auntie Val is on the far right and my Nana is in the middle. The other two dudes are two of my Mom's brothers. (Uncle Mike didn't make this reunion.)

With all that family in town, we knew we needed to do something fab. So we're having a party this weekend!

I'll be busy, busy, busy (what else is new?) cooking for the party, dealing with the kiddos and basically being hostess-with-the-mostest, because my Dad has made me Chief Party Planner.

But I am so excited because my girl Angel C. is coming to take photos of the party, and some portraits of the Jackson girls (that's my mom and her sisters and Nana)! The photo shoot is my gift to my Mom and to Nana, whose birthday is on the 10th.

I get to see my family! And hang out with Angel! And get some kick-ass photos!! (You can see some of Angel's beautiful portraits at asc-images.com.)

And...tomorrow is me and Lester's 6th anniversary! 

AND...Nana and my Aunties brought LOBSTAH! (Gotta say it the Boston way!)

So this is going to be a great weekend! Can't wait!