Happy Birthday, Beckett

For Beckett from justvideo on Vimeo.

Gelato

Beating the Heat at Pier 6

A.D.D. Conversation

Hey look, it’s a gumball machine.  Can I have one?

    No, it’s actually a dog treat machine.  Do you want a dog treat?

No.  But speaking of pets, there’s a dog right there.  Maybe he wants one.

    Maybe.  But he’s pretty far away.

Hey look it’s all wet.  Speaking of water, can I have a drink from my bottle?

    It’s in the car but it’s close.

[Passing a Chinese brand electric bike outside the Chinese restaurant] It’s English!

    The words are in English?

Yep.  Oh P.U.!!!  That stinks. Like dirt. Like it’s a dirty bike. See this?

    What, your floppy hand?

Yeah, that’s my sign for P.U.  To push the stink away.

"Going Under"

Summer in Baraboo

Sasha and I spent three weeks in Wisconsin, at the end of June and early July.  So yeah, the post is late and out of chronological order.  We took 2 days to drive there and 3 to drive back.  I highly recommend 3 days when driving with a 3-year-old.  By the end of our second day (a 10-hour drive, I think), he was screaming and twisting against the seat belt.  Good times.  I neglected to include enough running-around time and certainly didn't account for the high number of bathroom breaks and bathroom break emergencies.

The first week was a heat wave like I've never seen.  In this state, anyway.  100+ degree heat for days on end.  But the little mister had swimming lessons every day.  For three weeks he learned basic water skills, how to use a noodle to stay afloat, and most importantly, how to put his head underwater.  And now he's a fish.

I've posted some pictures the few pics I took of our stay.  But Carrie was the attentive photographer and got lots of great photos so you'll have to check out her Facebook page to see more and better ones.  Or at least that's what I heard through the FB grapevine.

Somewhere in western Pennsylvania, vegging out to Care Bears.

Enjoying his first ever Happy Meal toy. 
Mom's mistake: letting him have the toy before the food.

Beating the heat at Devil's Lake with Grandma Z and Tucker.

Grandpa Z playing fetch with a water-happy dog.

Using scuba gear to eat raisins through the snorkel.

 

Pirates in heels!
Taylor and Sasha get their fashion on.

Your feet are too big to play.

They spent hours in the pool playing make-believe with decorative turtles they stole from Grandma's bookshelf.

I am including this picture as proof that Sasha is not always the first one to lose his pants.

Taylor on a nature walk in Middleton.  Who knew?
You can't see it, but she rode her tricked out,
high chrome, souped up tricycle all the way here.

Experiencing the joy of rain and puddles.

"It stopped raining over here."

In his new outfit from Grandma and Grandpa J.

Getting his hair cut along with Grandpa at the barber shop.

Beckett!  And Sasha watching out for him.

Carrying the only important piece of equipment.

Before their morning coffee: T and S play together without actually interacting.

Getting ready for our 3-day road trip back to NY.
6 Angry Birds bandaids per knee. (Thanks, Carrie.)

Rosen Beach Vacation

The Rosen summer vacation happened again this year, and Wellfleet (Cape Cod) was the destination.  Lots of beaches and swimming options as well as lots of greenery and outrageously good pastry and ice cream.  Here are a few photos, although there are a lot more of Aunt Margot's in her Shutterfly account.

The multi-talented cousin Maya.

Photo by Maya. (She also took the blog header photo.)

Photo by Sasha.

Paddleball!

Play if you dare.

Zayde and Mama.

Nana and grandkids.

Uncle Ben and Aunt Alice.

Lip stuff.

Aunt Margot and even more lip stuff.

Eating Scah-lobstah.

Ready to see Sleeping Beauty, looking great in her "show clothes."

Rainbow pedicure.

He fell asleep at the beach?!

Look out, fellow ninjas.

Hiiiiiiya!

Not Defunct

The blog is back up and running!  A new interface thanks to Blogger's new customizable templates, and new stories to tell thanks to school being out of session.  I have a few posts on backlog, too, so they're on their way as well.  Cheers and thanks for reading.

1 a.m. This Morning

Announcement from our bedroom door: “I have to pee.”

“Okay, sweetheart, go ahead.”

“Then can I sleep in Mama and Mamu’s bed?” (Pillow in hand.)

“Sure.”

[Dark. Everyone in bed.]

“Hey, there’s the clown shadow. And the robot shadow.”

[No response from parents.]

[Loud whisper:] “Mamu! Look!  It’s the clown shadow. Right there. And the robot shadow over there.  They were in my dreams.”

“Yep, there they are.”

“But they’re not the evil clown and the evil robot.  It’s the regular clown and the regular robot that were in my dreams.  The evil clown and the evil robot are on Mars.  But we’re on Erf.  So the evil clown and the evil robot can’t get us.  Because we’re stuck on Erf.  There’s no food on Mars.  Do you think our neighbor has the shadows in his dreams?  The neighbor through this wall?  The clown shadow and the robot shadow?  We have a real clown in my room, in the bin.  He’s an evil clown but he’s not real.  Tomorrow we can play with the force fields— ”

“Sasha, honey, it’s nice to talk but right now it’s probably best to talk to yourself inside your head.  Or even better, just go to sleep.”

“Okay.”

[Rolls over, goes to sleep.]

Imaginarium

Every day on the way home from school, the little rascal and his friend Annabelle have a number of regular stops that they make. Our first stop is often Annie's house, their classmate who lives around the corner from school.  Her building has a outdoor ramp to the basement that can't be passed by untrodden.  They run down and up it and launch themselves down the block where they lock themselves in a sidewalk gate and taunt their parents from within.  Then they take off and run into the pizza store to admire the gumball machines.  We finally forbade that, so instead they run into the deli next door and admire the car-shaped candy until we have to threaten precious belongings to get them out.  The next stop is an old payphone at the corner.  They place a number of important calls until some imagined crisis forces them to slam the phone down and run around the ice cream stand's sitting area.  And around and around and around.  Eventually, we grab them and force them to cross the street and continue home.  Then they visit "work," the brownstone block's lone red gate.  Every day they express surprise that work is closed again.  On to the next stop, a horizontal bar that serves as the world's worst yard fence.  Rather than keep anyone out, such as small children, it attracts them like flies.  They climb on it, slide across it, swing under it, etc.  Both Annabelle and Sasha have left this stop in tears from getting hurt or arguing over bar territory but it never stops being awesome.  Then it's on to the forbidden corner garden where the monkeys attempt to stomp on plants, steal decorative stones, and help each other climb onto the 3-foot high pedestal.  Naturally, they are forcibly removed from this slice of heaven, and we cross the street to the apartment building in Pennsylvania.  Or maybe it's the station where they call Pennsylvania?  Something mysterious that has to do with Pennsylvania.  Where they also sell portable TVs from the electric utility box near the front door.

Finally, the last stop before our building and Annabelle's bus stop: the mailbox and its drab counterpart, the olive-green mailbox (a "relay box" for those in the know).  The mailboxes are more fun than I thought possible.  A small person can hide between them, or two small people can chase each other around them, and then when it's time to go, you can get candy or "bad medicine" dispensed from the door lock on the green mailbox.  This week, Mama and I both walked Sasha home from school and after the kids played with the mailboxes, he demanded that Nerdy and I each have some bad medicine.  We dutifully did.  Then we crossed the street, and as we left, Nerdy said "Bye, Mailbox!"  Sasha acted like she was crazy and corrected her, "It's just a mailbox, Mama.  You don't say goodbye to it."