Finish with a Flourish

   Every once in awhile, as a parent, you have a moment of clarity so bright and so clear that all those around you can see... that you're totally insane.  But fear not!  It is clarity nonetheless, and you shouldn't shrink from it simply because, as Jonathan Swift put so succinctly, "When a great genius appears in the world you may know him by this sign; that the dunces are all in confederacy against him."  By this token at least, Rachel and I should be hailed as such for orchestrating one of the great martial arts performances of our era.

Here are the little madmen training for it in secret!!

    The scene was somewhat unremarkable: We were sitting in church at the very end of the service, battling it out with Knight #1  and trying to find Knight #2, who has a nasty habit of disappearing when you look away at Knight #1.  The final processional hymn was sounding and the officiants (priests and such) had just finished walking out of the sanctuary, which meant that it was time for the organ postlude.  No church that I have ever attended before had an organ postlude;  it actually reminds me of 1700s Germany when Bach would compose a new one every week for his congregation in Hamburg.  It's amazing.  The swells of the deep pipes resonate all around and the glory of God is nearly palpable as the music of heaven seems to draw near... or would if we could hear much more than Elijah yammering, "I'm hungry; I'm so very very hungry..." and Judah crawling into someone's leg two pews ahead of us.


                                          
                              More secret training videos released!!! Watch out for 'crazy eyes Duj'!



      And then... divine clarity!  I grabbed Judah, who was closest to me, and started his little limbs punching and kicking to the crescendo of Vivaldi.  Elijah looked up just as Judah flipped over his head Matrix-style and took a little kick himself as Rachel flew him into the sky.  They chopped; they blocked; they back-flipped with sheer giggly delight as the organist's fingers flew faster and faster.  By the time Crouching Elijah had laid out Hidden Judah with one final double-spin roundhouse, it seemed fire was coming from the organ.  And still they danced, hovering with limber motions as they flew over and under and through one another.  It was a truly transcendent moment-- it was untainted delight, probably more for me than for them.  I go to church often hoping for the presence and touch of God, but I will admit that I did not expect to find it in a spontaneous karate match set to a backdrop of pipe organ-induced splendor. Mysterious ways indeed!


           

   

B(re)aking Bread... or The Knights Learn a New Trade, Part 2

So one of the new joys in my life (previously alluded to) is baking with the boys.  It's one of the few things that we can all do together and then enjoy the fruits of our labor before Elijah and Judah have forgotten that we even made it.

     What makes it so uniquely delightful is just HOW into it they are.  Almost every recipe we make begins with that wonderful line "Grease a (9 inch round, Bundt, 9x13, apoplectic, etc.) pan lightly and flour it."  This takes ten minutes, mainly because the boys have to a) sprint to their respective chairs, b) hammer on each other for a couple minutes until one of them gets control of the shortening can, c) put about 1000 calories worth of pure lard down in the pan before yours truly realizes that there may a little more grease than necessary, d) giggle their tiny heads off at my ineptitude, and e) take five minutes of scrubbing down to rid their hands of all the slime.


                                 

    Another thing that I have to gauge before we start is Elijah's mood-- if he's well-rested and helpful, than I can generally recruit him to help with the more mundane tasks while I do some of the more difficult ones.  However, if he only seems rested and is instead latently aggressive, then things like this can happen:

          Micah:  Hey LJ, would you help me put some of the cocoa powder (in what is not a Freudian slip, I typed 'coca powder' the first draft and just now noticed it... thank God for editors) into the cake batter?

          Elijah:  Sure thing, Dad.  (takes a massive pile of cocoa powder on his little tablespoon scoop)

          Micah:  Not quite so much, please.  (reaches for the scoop)

         Elijah:  NO!  Don't take it!  (flings cocoa powder high in the air)


    By the time it settled, we all three (including a confused-looking Judah) looked like old-school vaudevillians.

                           
      (Here's the boys checking out the new possibilities for baking -- "Judah, so you think we can make a chicken pot pie?"
)
      After a few weeks, though, we had really become a well-greased machine (sorry, couldn't resist), turning out spectacular cakes, cookies and pastries of all kinds.  I knew we had arrived when we made a little something for our friends who came over on a weeknight, just to show you how cool they are.  Anyone who visits small children on a weeknight deseves kudos in my book.  As we unveiled the cake, our friend looked at the cake.  "Is that ganache?"  she said.

      "Yup," I said.  "The boys and I just threw it together.  You know."  Proudest moment of my life... well. almost.


        Considering that pride generally cometh before the really big falls, I shouldn't have been surprised that the next time, making a very similar cake, Elijah asked if we could all crack the eggs.  He's really good at this, so I said, "Sure. I'll help Judah do the first two, and then you can finish."  Two eggs down, and Elijah stepped to the plate.  He made a neat crack on the side, and the egg was ready to be dropped into the bowl with its brethren.  Except he squeezed the shell instead of pulling it away, which meant that the yolk shot free and slid halfway down the table, where Judah grabbed for it, while crumbly pieces of the shell shattered and slid into the batter.  Mission accomplished, Elijah looked at me in a slight panic.  "Daddy," he said in his breathless voice that generally means he's about to freak out, "don't let Judah ruin the egg!"

       And that's why if we made the same cake fifty times, it would taste different every time.  But we have more fun... or at least less sanity.  Pick your poison, right?    

The Knights Learn a New Trade (Part 1)

-- or, why I've only lost five pounds in spite of taking three months off from blogging to train intensely for a half marathon :)


        So, to try and update you on three months of life in three sentences:  1)  I trained feverishly for a half-marathon and got within seven seconds of my goal at 1:45:07, which was 11 minutes faster than I had ever ran one before, but simultaneously got hooked on Glee, because apparently you run faster listening to pop music; 2) Elijah and Judah grew up (a lot! especially Judah, who is well on his way to being a young sportsman-- ball is one of two words he says really well... the other! "COOKIEEEE!");  and 3)  Rachel started watching a little boy who lives down the street here and there and picked up a third night at the office.

         The third is actually the most significant, at least to our way of life.  At first I blamed Rachel for taking it until she gently reminded me that I had encouraged her to do it (true) and that it might be that I just don't handle change very well (TRUE), so I dropped that argument.  But while two hours on a solitary night really isn't bad at all, for some reason it sparked a mentality change in me.  No longer were these three knights biding time on Monday and Wednesday evenings waiting for our Queen to come back and dazzle us with her presence; no, now we were on our own.  We ARE the night crew.  And with that mentality, we became scary-- or scary good.  I can't tell.

         At first, we started jousting training.  It didn't really work; I was always the dragon, and I ALWAYS ended up dead with two boys jumping on my (ahem) lower abdomen, giggling their heads off.  As I wouldn't mind the possibility of having more children in the future, we decided to try something else.      


      We tried running, which led to Elijah competing in his first real race (and some of the cutest pictures of him ever)...

   



 This was right near the finish of his little 1k -- he got up the big hill, looked down at the finish line and saw the people, and, in what is so typically LJ, got a huge grin and started sprinting...
               

                                 

....  but the crummy thing is that (at least here in New England) you can't really run in the dark with two cranky young knights/ ninjas in the winter.  Little dogs everywhere would have to flee in terror with these two   around.

     So, we were down to our last resort: something that could be done inside, with no real time commitments,  and something to show for our efforts at the end.  Baking!  (We decided against lobsters because these two were far too enthusiastic about playing with 'Larry the Lobster' before his demise, and there was some speculation that Elijah might try and hide him somewhere...)

       In our next installment (within a couple days), you'll get to see why (in our house, at least) baking is still a full-contact sport...


         
     

A Midsummer Eve's meander

   So with nothing but time to kill tonight (seriously, when's the last time that I could say that?) and Judah being SO SAD -- hysterics, really-- whenever he gets left home with a parent while Elijah gets to go on a trip, we decided to take a family outing to Stop and Shop to buy Cool Whip... because 4th of July desserts all should have Cool Whip on them.  ALL OF THEM.  (You heard me.)

    I've been working what is an insane amount for me (between 55-60 hours a week) in preparation for our upcoming vacation on Friday, but today signaled the end of the brutal stretch, and it seemed like an excellent time to hang out with Judah and Elijah and have some fun before Rachel swooped away with Elijah and about ten other friends to the Danvers fireworks.

    It should have triggered something in my head when it took us five minutes to get out of the driveway because Elijah needed to buckle himself in.  Note to self:  the independent stage doesn't equal the fast stage.
When we arrived in the parking lot and wandered past a few people bewildered by Judah's barking "Hi there!" at them, we managed to progress into the store, where both boys promptly jumped into one of those little cars that sit in front of the actual carts.  Once again, we took five minutes to buckle ourselves in-- scratch that.  Only Elijah did this.  Judah just looked at him with his head cocked, as if to say, "What's the holdup, o large one?"

  After the fifteen minutes of prep, it only took us 30 seconds to find the Cool Whip when yours truly found ice cream, which is the real reason I've only lost 15 pounds instead of the forty that you can see above that  Rachel is down. (Damn you, Haagen-Daas!)  So that took another couple of minutes to haggle out what flavor-- Moose Tracks!

Anyway, our two little racecar drivers aimed us at the cookie bakery and asked so politely that we figured we'd wander around for another five minutes.  This seemed like a really good idea until we got to the fish section, where the fish either smelled really fresh or really stale. We didn't stick around long enough to find out.

   We did, however, manage to pick up just one teensy package of granola bars on the way to the checkout.

  (If you're keeping score at home, we're at twenty-eight minutes and two extra items on a trip that was supposed to  be Rachel and LJ for Cool Whip lasting ten minutes tops. But we're not done yet.)

   At long last-- the checkout line... and empty to boot!  I was stuck in tabloid limbo while Rach paid for the items.  I had a few traditions to learn.  LJ started barking at me, and when I finally figured out what he was saying, it turned out that he needed to get the receipt for us.  (Apparently, without a receipt we are not really paying for it.)  All this entailed was him unbuckling (30 seconds) and attempting to snatch at it unsuccessfully (another 30 seconds) before I finally figured out that I needed to push the cart forward so he could leverage himself forward (this was actually mercifully quick!) followed by him getting back into the cart and re-buckling himself (1 minute).

   As we strolled out, Rachel whispered to me, "Well, at least we know he's safe in a car!"



   And so he is... have a wonderful night all!

on days when kites fly, so does Judah!

Just a short story today, but one that made Rachel and I howl on an otherwise chippy day!

    The boys had been a bit... challenging.  So it came as no surprise that eye-gauging mayhem was the order of the hour, when finally Elijah settled a bit and began to play with his balloons.  Hearing no yowls, screams or other yodeling noises, Rachel and I ducked around the corner for a bit of sanity.

    This lasted about fifteen seconds before Elijah bellowed at us, "Come look!  I make the kite fly!"

    I won't lie.  My first thought upon hearing this wasn't positive.  In fact, I was pretty sure that there would be ten to fifteen minutes of cleanup involved.

   Instead, we turned the corner into the kitchen to see a balloon "kite" hovering in midair with Elijah, the 'windmaster' himself, keeping it aloft by switching a fan (what else?) on and off.

   Enthralled, we watched him for a good five minutes as he dazzled us with his ingenuity and imagination.  It was pretty cool.  Our reverie was interrupted by another yodel from behind us.

   And what was this phenomenon?  While Elijah had been enthralling us,  Judah had seized the moment, climbed atop our kitchen table, and was swooping up and down on it!

  We might sleep with one eye open for the rest of our lives, but thanks to these little knights, we'll probably have fun doing it!

a wedding in pictures

So, because it happened almost two weeks ago.....

    I decided that it might be time for a wedding post.  This time it was my middle sister Kristin getting married.  If you're counting at home, the brothers got married oldest to youngest, and (if Catherine so desires) the sisters would get married youngest to oldest.  At least Kristin could drink the toast at her wedding... so naturally, we didn't have one.  Instead, we got the LJ and I (seen above) dancing down the aisle at the rehearsal.  This happened mainly because we got there twenty-five minutes early and the groom got there twenty-five minutes late, so we had some time to kill.

      But when it came time for the real deal, LJ was all business.  He's a professional, or as he says it, "a perfiesanal."  I think that the good behavior was really due to the fact that there was a string trio directly in front of him-- you could have waved chocolate chip cookies in front of his face and he wouldn't have blinked.

        After that, the Queen got to spend three hours or so hobnobbing with the other royalty while we lower nobility went straight to bed (with supper, at least!)

  The morning of the wedding we really didn't have much to do-- unlike my brother, who went shopping for car parts.  All we did was get prettified.  (Is that a word? Of course not... although spell check has no problem with it.  I hate computers.)

                         Above is Rachel looking all dazzling... with the LJ below.  "I see your lavender and raise you -- one shade of violet."  

 The only thing dazzling about me was my tie, but it was bright enough that in the right light you couldn't see me. :)

                                

The ceremony was lovely, with a timely (read: not too long) homily and beautiful music by the sisters.  Humorously enough, the bridesmaids wore basically the same color dress as my lovely bride, but in satin, while Rachel wore silk, so the sheens were quite different.  We joked that other than that, she could have been a replacement bridesmaid.

    Speaking of car parts, I'm taking the time to officially invite my brother to do a guest post on how he ended up timing his entrance to his reading so perfectly...

            and here we are at the reception.

               The only thing left to do was breakdance!

     The only person at the reception looking smoother than Judah was of course, the bride, who is now the lovely Kristin "only my husband can call me Krissi" Carroll!  Congratulations on the first steps to a long and wonderful marriage!  In closing, I think I'll just quote the groom, who posted this six days after on Facebook,

     " Thanks to all that helped make Krissi and mine's wedding the greatest day it could be.  On a different note, I'm contemplating retiring from work and staying on my honeymoon 
for the rest of my life :) "

              Have a good night all!

resurrection :)

    I am pleased to report that after a three-day ordeal in which his very 'life' hung in the balance, Sandyman J. Bear has made a remarkable recovery (thanks in no small part to the wonderful readers of this blog... I mean seriously, I had no idea more than 5 people actually read this thing) and is currently cuddling with his new best friend-- who ironically is the one that ralphed all over him in the first place... too cute!

    But the resurrection that I wanted to talk a little bit more about is the relationship between Elijah and I tonight.  He's pictured here two years ago at Judah's age (or just a bit older) and while they aren't twins, they  sure are brothers.  I think that these two knights may be mistaken for each other by sight in the future if they keep it up.

    They will never be mistaken by personality, however, and that's why tonight is pretty awesome.  Elijah had been challenging me all night at every turn, but especially about eating his dinner (he didn't until 7:00pm, which isn't remarkable until you consider that the rest of us ate it at 5:15) and harassing Judah.  Finally I prayed that one of the things that God would do is help our relationship to be built on respect and love and not just me chirping at him.

    I didn't even think about this as we three boys had a crazy finish to the evening at Dunkin' Donuts where we stood in line, me holding two shoeless boys until my arms nearly fell off while some snippy corporate suit in front of me traded in his kids' donuts more times than politeness should allow... long story short, I didn't even think about my little prayer again until I was wrapping up bedtime and Elijah gave me a huge hug and begged me to stay.  Normally, at that point I am out of there so fast to FREEDOM!  FREEDOM!  FREEDOM!  that Wile E. Coyote couldn't catch me, but a little voice in my head said, "isn't this what you asked for?  Here you go."  It didn't sound anything like I expect God to sound, but truthfully I'm a really bad listener, so I don't hear him talk that often anyway.  I decided to stay in any case.

    It was the best five minutes I've had all week.  We giggled together about nothing; he read me a book that said "The Tale of Peter Rabbit" of the outside, but turned out to be about two children going to the dentist and went on for four minutes on the same page before he remembered he had to turn the pages to maintain the farce of actually reading it; we even sang together.

 

       When I get a gift that good, it seems to call for a thank-you blog... which this is, coincidentally.

                Have a good night all!

the train of his robes

    Every once in awhile, a word pierces through my thick skull, and today the word came from the pulpit, of all places.  Church sermons aren't necessarily where I hear or see God the most, but today-- it happened.


    This Sunday, all I want to leave you with is a picture of the exalted and exultant King of the Universe-- and what he says about our guilt.




     Isaiah 6:1-8:


        In the year that King Uzziah died, I saw the Master sitting on a throne—high, exalted!—and the train of his robes filled the Temple. Angel-seraphs hovered above him, each with six wings. With two wings they covered their faces, with two their feet, and with two they flew. And they called back and forth one to the other, 

   Holy, Holy, Holy is God-of-the-Angel-Armies. 
   His bright glory fills the whole earth.
The foundations trembled at the sound of the angel voices, and then the whole house filled with smoke. I said,

   "Doom! It's Doomsday!
   I'm as good as dead!
Every word I've ever spoken is tainted—
   blasphemous even!
And the people I live with talk the same way,
   using words that corrupt and desecrate.
And here I've looked God in the face!
   The King! God-of-the-Angel-Armies!"
Then one of the angel-seraphs flew to me. He held a live coal that he had taken with tongs from the altar. He touched my mouth with the coal and said,

   "Look. This coal has touched your lips.
   Gone your guilt,
   your sins wiped out."

Now that's something that even a rotten week can't destroy!

        Have a good night!

farewell to a true friend?

 

    It is with great sadness that this family may mark yesterday, June 8,2012, as the passing of a great family friend.  Sandyman J. Bear, affectionately known as Sandy, was a stuffed animal of great dignity and patience, a companion to all, and a good listener.

     He had lived with our family long before it was even a family, being given as a present in the 'courting stages' (thanks for chortling at the pun) of our relationship and growing his heart in affection first for the wedding of ourselves to each other and subsequently to each child born thereafter.  He is shown above as a lump under a blanket two years ago cuddling with Elijah, but also made trips to the hospital for visits with each newborn and has consoled both young knights to sleep on many an overtired night.

    It was, in fact, his great compassion that finally may have ended his tenure with us at eleven short years.  Two nights ago -- read the interruption in the most recent post here http://lifeonkingarthurscourt.blogspot.com/2012/06/this-side-of-heaven.html -- Judah threw up seven times before he finally ran out of steam.  Sandy survived the first onslaught, ducking to the side, but snuggled in minutes later only to fall prey to a second round of a child's nauseated onslaught.  As a result, he awaits either you to enlighten us how to clean him without a washing machine, which will destroy him completely, or        
being placed gently into that good night (the trash can) with a hero's farewell.  We can't bring ourselves to part with him, but frankly... he can't live in the house anymore.

         Can anyone offer any ideas??   Else, R.I.P Sandy Bear.  We will miss you.

this side of heaven

         Every once in awhile I think that you come to a crossroads as a parent where you're not sure what to do.  Sometimes it's a big moment; sometimes it's a big more sedate.  My trouble is that most of the time even after the moment passes, I'm still not sure if I did the right thing-- and today was yet another doozy.  Sometimes I wish that life was a bit more like school.  At the end, you get a multiple-choice exam with clearly marked RIGHT ANSWERS.  (I'm sure that you amateur psychologists have at this point figured out that something is horribly wrong with my psyche; oh well.)

                                      

     Today we went to the inaugural Picnics at the Park ((that's 5:30 on the 1st and 3rd Thursdays at Lynch Park for anyone interested; anyone (but especially families with parents that otherwise couldn't make it to play stuff-- like me-- invited!)   Since it was cold and rainy, only a few of us showed up, and pretty soon Elijah was bored of sitting at table with people ten times his age.  Seeing a cohort of 8-year-olds playing football, he tried to get them to play with him.  Once he figured out they weren't interested in teaching him, he wandered over to a tree and started to climb it.  

      He successfully navigated up about ten feet high the first time, but a little cavalierly for me.  I tried to impress upon him the necessity of looking where you're going, but eh... he couldn't really be bothered.  He was too busy showing me where his tail was because he was a monkey.  Doing a pretty good impression of it, that's for sure.

    He was so good that we dismounted, came over to tell the beautiful mama just what we were doing and ran all the way across the wet grass to do it again.  And that's when the trouble started.  

  That beautiful boy went even higher with more nonchalance.  It takes quite a bit to get me nervous with him, but I think that the heights got to me. 

         << Real-time update: At this point in the post, I heard Elijah screaming with a night terror.  I sprinted upstairs, calmed him down after 5 minutes, but he had awoken Judah.  I stuck my head into Judah's room to make sure he was ok-- he projectile vomited six times and I actually freaked out and called Rachel back from her wine-and-schmooze party where she was having so much fun to help me because I'm just having that kinda night... I tell ya, you can't make this stuff up>>


      I gently talked him down, and on his way down he ran into a bit of trouble.  I don't even know if he thought he was in trouble, but he got down to about 4 feet, and lost his footing. He started regaining his footing while hanging by his little arms, and totally lost his balance and fell, essentially doing a cannonball into the mulch.  


       Here's the troubling part: I didn't try to catch him.  I might not have been able to anyways, but as he fell I was consciously thinking: here's a good life lesson.  I had warned him, he took a risk and suffered the (albeit minor in terms of pain and suffering) consequences.  But now I feel a little unstable about it.  Should I have just caught him -- and continue to try to catch everything life throws at him?  Or is this the first of many lessons that I will watch him learn with pain and tears?


       I don't like it-- and if the update is any indication, the pain of watching my children learn that the world is not heaven won't be over any time soon.

why yes, we are ripped ;)

     Elijah has a keen eye for details, and today was no exception.  While he was not wearing the exceptionally loud tam seen above, his focus was nonetheless on his wardrobe.  "Daddy," he said looking down at his jeans, "you and I match!"

    For the record, we didn't match at all.  He is infinitely more handsome than I (blame his mama for that one), and he was wearing jeans and a polo shirt, while I was wearing cargo shorts and a t-shirt. But... he's almost always right on these sorts of things, so I let it play out.  "How's that, LJ?" I said.

  "Look at this!" he said, pointing to his knee.  "You have one too!"  And lo!, like every other time, he was right.  Directly above each of our right knees was a big old-fashioned hole in our respective trousers.

  "You're so right, LJ!"  I said, proud of his little inner Sherlock Holmes.  "We're both ripped!"  Offhandly I said to Rachel, "You know why, right?  God made us that way."  With a wink and a little flex, we were both on our way.

     Rule #22:  Children hear everything.

         The above story, while funny, would have been a bit of a footnote except we had a trip to Target right after supper to kill an evening and try to forget that we hadn't seen the sun in four days.  After a very productive half hour of shopping, we were on the home stretch.  Judah sat contentedly in the cart, while the oldest knight-in-training was plunked down on my shoulders.  I had almost forgetten he was there when he bellowed, "Mama!"

       "What is it?" Rachel said.

      "Do you know who put the rip in my pants?"  LJ said.

      "No," said Rachel.  LJ loves loves loves playing the 'somebody' game ("Mama, somebody just pulled the blinds up for you"... "Mama, somebody just gave you tickles..."), so it was pretty obvious where this one was going.

     "God did!"  Elijah hollered.

      Rule 22a:  Even when children hear everything, they understand only half of it-- and that NEVER stops them from repeating it.

                        So whether you're looking at his tiny biceps or the big hole in his jeans, Elijah would like you to know-- God made him ripped!

                       Have a good night all!

scenes from Ina's :)

 

(Warning:  if you don't like germs, or dogs, or both-- find a different post of mine and read away to your heart's content.  This one isn't for you.)


         

         After dinner tonight, Elijah coerced Ina into letting him visit "for just five minutes," which as usual turned into twenty, so Rachel went over to rescue Ina from the clutches of the little imp.  Ten minutes after that, I ran out of books to read to Judah (really, he ran out of patience with my reading style) and we headed over to collect them and ourselves got sucked in by the fun atmosphere and the cute (albeit drooling) pups.  

           I almost never get to visit Ina anymore, so I had forgotten just how much the boys love it there. Elijah ran around from chair to chair, pausing briefly to help Ina knit and scratch the dogs' backs (which led to some sloppy kisses in return), but the real highlight of the day was provided by Judah.  Though he still says almost nothing, he has reached a point where no words are needed.  Case in point:  he came over to me and batted his big brown eyes and pointed ever so delicately to me while nodding his head, so I followed him into the kitchen.  Once there, he grunted at the light switch and held out his arms for "up."

       Thus satisfied, he maneuvered me over to the switch and flicked it off and on (does this remind you of anyone?  Judah is truly the Great Imitator) until he had sucked all fun from that activity; then, quick as you please, tried to leap from my arms. Thankfully, I was up to the task, and back to the den we went.

       That's where he amazed us.  He pulled the same stunt in the den, turning the lights on and off, until I was reminded that Mr. Dick didn't really like changing the light switch every week, which is about how fast the boys blow it out with their little neurotic on/off game, so I removed Judah from the executive chair where he was switching it from.  Undeterred, he climbed up on me, over my face and was about to start again when I killed the game by getting out of the chair and getting on the floor, apparently giving the dogs permission to lick any and all traces of dinner from me.  This meant that Judah had no way onto the chair and no way to access the switch even if he did.

      If you don't know something's impossible, you just might be able to do it.  Judah, at least, might.  He climbed up onto the chair by doing a two-hand pullup over the edge, which was pretty impressive all in its own right, but we've always known he was a little bit of a physical freak -- a little whiny from time to time, but a freak nonetheless :)  The next next bit was what made Ina and I stare.  He stood on his tippytoes and grabbed the top of the chair back with one hand and pulled himself up slowly while turning the light switch on with the other.  Blew my mind.  I actually started clapping;  honestly, I didn't know what to do.   Ina, Rachel and I just gazed in amazement for the first fifteen seconds as he clung there.  If we could have seen his face, I'm sure he would have been grinning at us.

      Finally, his strength gave out and he collapsed back to the chair seat... and tried to do it again.  I couldn't have been more proud.  Even Elijah looked up and pointed.  "MamaDada look at Judah he's climbing the chair and turning the light on he's not allowed to."  There really is no way to punctuate the LJ's sentences; maybe I'll try next year!

         Have a wonderful night all!

things I've always wanted to do at a wedding...

                                           
                                   



           In honor of my sister's upcoming wedding this Saturday, I am NOT going to take bets on the LJ's performance walking the ring down the aisle.  He did it once perfectly before, and he was six month younger, so there's no reason whatsoever he should screw it up.  Which means, being the illustrious little knight that he is, he'll probably have a nuclear meltdown on the way to the altar.  Happens to the best of us.

      No, what I was dreaming of last night are all the things that I've wanted to do at a wedding, but have never dared to.  Weddings are so-- formal.  Stiff.  Proper.  Even a bit starched, if you will.  Seriously, you think I wear the Mafia suit here every day?  (I wish-- but I think I'm in the wrong field for suits and ties on a daily basis.)


         So, why not spice it up a little?  Throw a little curve...  in no particular order, here are a few things I'm contemplating to help everyone loosen up a bit.

         #1:  Actually take the "If anyone knows a reason why these two should not be joined asunder, speak now or forever hold your peace" line seriously.  I've been to at least five weddings where I knew an excellent reason or two they shouldn't be married.  But did I ever say anything?  Of course not.  And what better way to get everyone going a bit than jumping up and saying, "Does his outstanding warrant for bank robbery count?"  and dashing out of the church.

       #2:  Dressing like a groomsman and seeing if, in all the hullabaloo after the ceremony, you can slide smoothly into the limo (a stretch Hummer, of course) and party with them on the way to the reception.  Of course, you have to pick your spots.  With my luck, I'd slide into the limo only to find out that it was bride and groom only.  Maybe I'm just going to abandon this idea.

       #3:  Convincing the organist to play Darth Vader's theme (or, alternately, Ride of the Valkyries) as the bride makes her way down.  And yes, if anyone reading this has actually met me, you'll know that the Queen and I almost pulled this off at our own wedding.  We got Darth Vader's theme at the REHEARSAL.  So close.  But I mean... how cool would that be?

      #4: Putting Elijah on my shoulders and having him catch the garter.  On the one hand, this would be mortifying.  I've avoided the garter like it was the plague my whole life.  But as Elijah has no real idea what's going on, I think this would be a riot, mainly for the fifty questions he'd be asking the poor bride about what the garter was.

                                                

     
      Finally, I think that the last way that I would loosen up a wedding is to cut out the two hours of pictures between ceremony and reception.  Nothing (and I understand that I'm a man, so feel free to cut me and my unrealistic twaddle down to size, ladies) kills the general joy at a wedding faster than having to wait two hours between what's almost always a lovely ceremony and an anticipated (say that three times fast) feast at the reception.  I understand that it takes the bride thirty minutes to go to the bathroom and bustle and re-bustle the dress, etc., but there's gotta be a way that avoids the yawning chasm of pictures and prep so long that by the time the bride and groom arrive, what seems to be cheering is really a massive sigh of relief that the food is on its way.  If the eating started half an hour after the end of the ceremony, THAT would be something to cheer about!  Unfortunately, I haven't figured out how to do that yet... :(

       (And this is the face LJ makes when he's waiting for his food... )

         
                        Have a good night all!!!            

how to get your husband to punch himself in three easy steps...

(cut to photo of the Queen looking quite pleased with herself)

                   This little 3-step setup happened on Memorial Day weekend, worthy of a wondrous post in its own right, but probably not going to get one because of all the craziness it's sandwiched between... with that apology out of the way, this is how the lovely lady pulled it off:

 
                   First, she bewildered me with her good looks.  Since she has been losing so much weight and toning up recently, she has inherited a bunch of "new to her" clothes from her younger sister, who is doing the exact same thing, only Laura started six months earlier... so Rach gets all her old clothes.  In turn, Rach will bust out a sparkling new outfit every couple of weeks to turn my head.  It works.  Frankly, a little too well.  I never saw step two coming.

                   Second,  she relaxed me and the other two vigilant back-seat knights into a stupor-like state on our drive to Gloucester.  (This was possibly the hardest step, because getting Judah to stop squealing at this phase is nigh impossible-- the poor man wants to do everything Elijah can but he isn't allowed to yet!  And thus he shrills!!  Ugh!)  The two boys were slumped out napping; I leaned against the window and enjoyed my life.

                  Third, she pulled the rug out-- or in this case, rolled up the window.  Though to this day she swears it was "totally unintentional," she rolled the window out from under my arm, which caused me to jerk my arm involuntarily back into the car-- full speed.  Which is where my unsuspecting face was leaning, blissfully thinking my wife was attractive.  It didn't really think that anymore after I punched myself full-speed.  In fact, my brain didn't think much of anything for a little while after that.  I may have become the first person I know to give myself a concussion.  




                And that's why the Queen looks so smirky-- she's smart enough to get her husband to punch himself in the face for her.  Is there anything a woman like that can't do?


               And that's why I love her... she's Wonder Woman.




              Have a good night all!

morning and evening...

          ... is a) the title of a wonderful devotional by Charles Spurgeon, the great 19th century preacher and orator, for those so inclined, and b) have been added to the list of times these young knights have been haunting the neighborhood :0

    A couple days ago, Ina asked if our family was nervous about possibly getting new neighbors, as our fabulous next-door neighbors Al and Pat have been hinting about downsizing and moving closer to their sons.  "Are you kidding?"  Rachel said.  "I'm not worried at all.  They have to live 5 feet away from us!"  I thought that was pretty apropos on an evening where these two crazies pictured here suckered me into thinking they were tired...

                                      

                  ... and have spent the next hour and a half keeping each other awake.  In a moment of weakness, Elijah has actually broken me down to the point where in order to keep him quiet and allow me to type this for more than two keystrokes at a time, I have allowed him to read with his BIG BRIGHT room light on.
                                      
   
          Oh well, it'll give the Queen something to ponder (how is the blue blazes did he turn that light on?) when she gets home from her night about town.  Then again, when your son is the Human Crab (see above), it would only make sense that he could scuttle up bureaus like nobody's business.


             Have a wonderful (and peaceful) night!

he's ready, but I'm not....

Someone decided to potty-train themself today!  (I put the exclamation point in because I'm supposed to be happy.)   I'm not.  I'm terrified.  Quite frankly, I'm not completely sure why I'm terrified, but I've identified a few reasons right off hand:

      #1:   This very well be the biggest and the stupidest.  I'm a prude... to the point where Rachel has actually walked around the house giggling at me singing "I'm a Prude and I Know It" (tune of 'Sexy and I Know It") just because I can't handle nudity.  The fact that there will now be man-parts being flashed at all hours of the day is a little too much for me to handle.  Jeez, I don't even change in front of my wife and now Elijah is just walking up to me, whipping off his pants, and saying, "you want to see my [insert whatever you call it here] when I go potty?"  Yup, I'm definitely not ready for that yet.

                                       


         #2:   It's a rite of passage.  Granted, it's a rite of passage that everyone else's three-year-old has already hurdled, but we male Nimons have always taken our own sweet time with this one.  (I could read and almost write the alphabet before I was potty-trained, which is saying something.)  With the advent of this, I can no longer hide and pretend I have little boys anymore.  Heck, Judah was grunting at the potty and tugging on his pants.  God help us all.

        #3:  It's a total surprise... and on a week where I'm running around like a headless chicken (how's that for an appetizing metaphor!) trying to tidy up four jobs and prep for the arrival of the great GrammyPa (that's be two people, much like we are MamaDaddy) and GreatGrammaDale on Thursday, this one hit me like stepping on a rake-POW!  I'm totally out of sorts.

                                   

   #4:  That's his potty face-- he always looks like he's meditating.


   #5:  I realized that I'm totally averse to change-- and like anything else that breaks up my routine, I'm having a brutal time of it.  No longer is it change the diaper, carry on, it's a whole new fun way of life where we take off all his getup, he sits down for two minutes, demands that I leave because he 'needs his privacy,' (wonder who he gets that from?) and then gets bored while I'm in the other room and runs around naked until I realize that he's a high-risk candidate for watering the stove.  While I get Elijah, Judah wanders in, picks up the potty and struts around like he's just won the lottery.  (Thankfully, I don't think he fully understands the idea of a toilet yet.)  Repeat this a few times, and I'm right back to the days of being the parent of a newborn-- wild hair, crazy eyes, and mumbling unintelligible things.  So.... all this brings me to my point.


          Against every fiercely independent fiber in my Yankee body, I'm asking for advice--what are some good tips as a parent to acclimate to this wondrous new world??  "Get over it!"  has already been suggested, thanks very much ;)

        Have a wonderful night all!  (Oh, and I really am proud of my LJ-- he's pretty awesome in my book!)

children in morning, parents take warning ...

  Remember that old nursery rhyme-- "Red sky at night, sailor's delight.  Red sky in morning, sailors take warning!" ?  I'm abridging it a wee bit.  'Children at night, parents duck out of sight.  Children in morning, parents take warning!"

                                    

       And in our case, I don't mind them in the morning at all... but the only time that I get to myself typically runs from about 4:30- 6:00 am.  I'm pretty sure they've sniffed this out, because the last two days they've been up at 5:25.  And worse-- they started talking amongst themselves and are taking turns.  Two days ago, LJ took the early shift and wanted to eat cereal with me at 5:15.  Today, he woke up just long enough to holler a couple times as I shot into his room to calm him down, which was surprisingly easy.  Turns out he was just giving the 'all clear' for Judah, who poked his cute little head up and started 'talking' through the door at us as soon as Elijah went back to sleep.  I don't care if he is only 15 months old; Judah's going to sleep in LJ's room sooner rather than later.  Then they can yap at each other all they want and I DON'T HAVE TO WAKE UP TO SHUSH THEM... just saying.

     The other person who has to watch out for the 'children in morning' is the "beautiful mama," as Elijah likes to call her.  I'm going to let her do a Mother's Day post tomorrow, but one of my highlights was at 8:30 in the morning--  we (the three knights) had been up since 5:30, and were getting a wee bit restless.  Rachel had been out the night before for some pre-Mother's Day celebrating and had stayed up until 11 or so, which is waaaaaay past her bedtime, so we agreed she could catch some beauty sleep until 8:30 or 9.

                                      

      I outlined the plan to my two lieutenants.  We would tiptoe upstairs, I would give Rachel a kiss, and Elijah would whisper "I love you" to her and give her a present.  It would have worked very well except lieutenant #1 only listened to HALF of the instructions.  He tiptoed upstairs quietly like a champ-- then improvised.  Bursting through the door, he screamed, "SURPRISE, BEAUTIFUL MAMA!  WE LOVE YOU!"  Rachel's awakening was, um, abrupt... and I have the utmost respect for her that after the first terrified gasp, she actually enjoyed her little ceremony without killing anyone.  And's that why I love her-- at least one of the reasons.

          Yup, children in morning-- take in low doses.  Have a good night all!

Things I actually said today

   No picture today... so you will just have to use your imagination.  These are things I actually said today-- context given after the quote.

    "To be clear, is he planning on working all day or watching the child?"  -- to a mom-to-be at our church small group tonight.  She had just explained to me that her researcher husband will be watching the newborn child while working two days a week.  I'm tentatively dubious.

    "Can you please not walk with a penguin in your mouth?  I don't want you to fall down and kill yourself." -- to Elijah, who was carrying so many plastic penguins he had to carry them in his mouth.

    "Come over here now or I will not change your diaper and check your man-parts!"  -- Elijah again, using any leverage I can to get him to come over for a diaper change.

    "Really?  Really?  Really!"   --- to Judah, in sheer exasperation that he literally had to be held for fifteen minutes straight or else scream like Banshee from X-Men at any hint of me placing him on the floor.

   "Yeah, he's one.  If you don't want him to touch it maybe you should move it out from under his hands."  -- to a six-year-old at small group, who was very upset that after he put his shiny globe literally under Judah's nose, Judah then played with it without asking permission.

   Finally, a throwback reference to yesterday:   "Uh-huh, yesterday was pretty rough.  I felt bad for Rachel, though.  She essentially had to deal with three cranky men all day, and the only distinguishing feature between me and them was that I finally grew out of diapers."

   Well, I can't take it back now.  The life lesson here is that when you have kids, you may as well trade your dignity for a minivan-- you're only going to one of them over the next twenty years.

         Have a wonderful night all!

   
               

I don't think I fit into the routine :)

               I say this as cheerfully as possible, but I think I owe my whole family an apology.  You see, today was a rain-filled day, which in my world will occasionally mean that I get to stay home with them.  About three years ago, this seemed awesome.  Time at home with the new little Elijah giving the Queen a nap (especially because the first four weeks after he was born I was working 65-hour weeks) meant a smoother situation for everyone.  About a year ago, it wasn't too bad.  Now, when I stay home, it's pretty awful.

              I think half of it is me.  When it's gray and lonely, I'm pretty rough to live with.  Elijah doesn't seem to mind because he's my doppleganger-- he's just as irritable as I am.  Judah doesn't seem to mind because for the past month, it doesn't really matter what's going on around him, he just whines.  We're all hoping that this phase clears pretty quickly-- he's such a delightful child when happy, and such a delight-sucking child when whining.  But even after all that, it's at least half me.

             Which leaves the poor Rachel/ "beautiful mama."  She now has not two cranky young knights to deal with , but three.  Things that used to be fun, like lunch, degenerate into serious dicussions of how to parent as each of us feels like our parenting styles are being questioned.

             By dinnertime, EVERYONE was ready for war.  Humorously enough, dinner was a war.  It's not often that a + b = c at this house, but this was one time that we all could see the storm coming; it's just that we weren't smart enough to get out of its way.

                              

         So I think we learned a few life lessons today.  (Honestly, we already knew these; we just forget a lot-- at least I do.)

            1)  I should NEVER stay home from work unless I am actively playing a lengthy video game;  in my case, free time = hell.

            2) Naps and me do not agree.  (I passed out from 1-3pm, with disastrous results.)

            3)  Rachel is awesome!!  (By anyone's definition of justifiable homicide, she could have killed Judah and I today; a liberal judge probably would have let her off the hook for Elijah too.)

            4)  Even awful days have redeeming qualities; the boys and I sneaked out at 4 and got her something special for Mother's Day under the guise of a walk!

         Hope you all are having a fantastic night!  (I know I am; I'm sitting by myself in peace and quiet!)

it's gonna be exciting!

          Every once in awhile, it's hard to see out of a gray tunnel up here in the oh-so-lovely North.  (Brief aside: any weather people out there able to tell me why it averaged about 68 in March but is somewhere near 55 so far in May??)
          Work is either sitting at home waiting for the clouds to clear or doing incredibly fun things like move furniture and investigating crawl spaces with cobwebs very much like these.

                                          

            So on days like today, I choose to look forward to things in the not-so-distant future that just might snap me out of my funk.

            Some of them include:  1)  spending a little early-morning time with this little snuggler and his 'faceplug,' since he has taken up the "someone must wake up at 5:30 to make sure Dad's up!" mantle from his older brother.




      2) This one will probably make the lovely Naomi Deckert happier than anyone else-- I finally finished my amazing video game Valkyria Chronicles (highly recommended for anyone who likes great sweeping dramatic/ romantic stories combined with strategic battlecraft), which means that I'm launching back into the world of writing some stories or novels at night... I can't decide between finishing a longer book that I've already started or writing a shorter story about the unwitting escapades of  a very small detective.  Either way, I'm happy for the chance.

     3) I'm looking forward to completing the training process so that Elijah can make me coffee unassisted-- he thinks he can right now but the last time he did everything right save putting the cup underneath the Keurig... thank goodness for eagle-eyed Judah!!  (Anyways, it's fun now that they want to do almost everything with me.  It might take a little longer, but I know the days are coming where I won't be able to dig up help if I had a backhoe.)

                                 
 

      4)  Finally, I'm thankful to be invited to celebrate the wedding of my sister Kristin as on June 2nd, she becomes Kristin Carroll... it has such a nice 'ring' to it!  She may regret the invitation once all three of us knights show up in our shining suits of armor/ polyester, but at least the Queen will make an appearance!

        Hopefully you have some similar delights coming your way soon.... have a wonderful night!