Little & Big

Thanks, 2010.

"Year 2010"

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St. Nicholas came!

And woudn't you know, it was a day early!

Could it be that St. Nicholas is simply too busy (and tired and a tad overwhelmed) these days  -- and he's lost track of what day of the month it is?  That today is the 5th and not the 6th? 

Goodness, St. Nicholas!  Seems you need a good long day off to get your sweet, white-haired head on straight.

So glad you helped yourself to a piece of chocolate cake.  Great middle-of-the-night energy snack!

(See the golden magic dust?)

Finder Man strikes again

This little guy of mine has extraordinary powers.  He can find things. 

We ask him: "have you seen my phone?"  or  "do you know where the flashlight went?"  and more often than not, he'll say "I know where that is!" and he'll run off and get it. 

Sometimes he finds things that he doesn't have any business with, such as Daddy's belt, or the charger to the computer.

We've decided it's a superpower.

Within 10 minutes of being outside the other day, he found both of the missing kitty collars.  One in a tree, and one in the neighbor's yard.  Both.  He knew I didn't like kitty outside without them (because the kitty is such a hunter).  And he went and found them.

Really, truly.  That gets a WOW in my book.

(ironic) Halloween

For Halloween this year big brother really wanted to be this:

And I was going to build that.  Yes I was.  I bought 6 yards of black fleece.  Six.  And 3 yards of white.

At the fabric store, the woman at the counter asked me what I was making.  "A penguin costume," I said.  "Looks like you'll be able to make a lot of penguin costumes," she repiled. 

What can I say?  I was nervous.  Indimidated.  And more than anything: overwhelmed.  But I couldn't admit that to my son.  Because he wanted to be a penguin.  (And if you know our history of Halloween, you'll know how clear and exacting he is about his Halloween costumes.*)

In the days previous to the fabric-buying trip, I had actually suggested some alternatives.  "How about a mummy?  Or a superhero," I suggested, (and here's the enormous irony) "Or even someone from Star Wars?"  No no no.  He wanted to be a penguin.  Period.

I should have listened to my anxiety over my clear sewing inexperience.  And my tiredness.  And the fact that my calendar was showing exactly 1.25 hours of free time in the coming weeks.  AND the fact that the pattern was sold out across the country. (Though amazingly one of my best friends had it and mailed it to me.)

Well, to make a long story very short: last weekend, after much badgering ("WHEN are you going to work on my HALLOWEEN COSTUME?"), and many lectures about being respectful towards your tired and hardworking mother ("As soon as I can find some time between my two jobs and all the cooking and cleaning and doing-of-your-laundry, I will."), I finally got to work.  I pulled out the pattern, and the fabric, and the sewing machine, and the thread, and the pincushion, and laid them all on the freshly cleared dining room table.  And promptly burst into tears. 

Daddy to the rescue.  After offering a strong shoulder to cry on, he went upstairs and had a pow-wow with the boys.  About 15 minutes later, he came down.  "We have a new plan."

And here are the pics from the week to prove it:

Can you guess what he is going to be?

(*History of Halloweens captured here.  And then last year too.)

"hey what happened to my dog?"

On Friday we invited friends over for an impromtu kick-the-can and pizza party.  (Which I highly recommend doing: three large pizzas, three apple pies, and 12 friends running around the yard until it's dark trying to "kick the can".)

Anyhoo, after it was too dark to play and everyone had had pie and ice-cream, the kids all disappeared upstairs to create and costume a play.  And it was so adorable and funny I just have to describe it.

Here's the story:

A terrible tiger is terrorizing the land. (Imagine little brother in big brother's home-made saber-toothed tiger costume with a fluffy stuffed cat-toy mouse in his jaws.)

A great knight (played by big brother in full knight regalia) and his trusty dog (played by the darling H. in a sheepskin) set forth into the forest to slay the tiger.

A great battle ensues.  The knight is terribly injured, as is his trusty dog.

As a mecidine woman makes her way thorugh the forest to them, we learn that once-upon-time there was a beautiful princess that had been cursed by an evil witch and turned into a dog.

So when the medicine woman gives the potion to both the knight and his devoted dog, two miraculous things happen.  The knight is completely healed!  He stands as if stronger than before!  And -- to everyone's surprise -- the dog is transformed into a beautiful princess!

The knight, with this beautiful princess now standing before him, blinks at her and says, "Hey what happened to my dog?"

a moment from my day

I was taking the laundry down from the line.  Little brother pokes his head out the back screen door.

"Bonjour mon coeur, " he says.

"What's that?" I say, not understanding.

"Bonjour mon coeur," he says again.  "It's French.  It means 'hello my heart.'"

(Precious.)

"Brown Spots on the Wall" by Hu Flung Pu

Yellow Snow by I.P. Freeley

Cellophane Bikini by Seymour Hare

20 Miles to the Outhouse by Willie Maikit, illustrated by Betty Wont

::

Ever heard of these?  Best books never written. There is a whole passel of them out there in the world, and in our house we LOVE them.  Over breakfast we made up our own.

::

Sharks in the Water by Tip Dover-Boat

Telling the Truth by Hugh Diditt

Turn Down the Music by DJ Stoppitt

Get Me A Drink by Hally Peño

Rocket to the Moon by Yay-hee Maydette

Chip Off the Old Block by Gene Poule

and my favorite

One Terrible Fog by Hugh Pooded

::

Laughing yet?   Got some of your own?  Let us hear it.

quiet time with cat

the last trick

On April Fools we were treated to a whole range of little tricks -- cellophane over the toilet, little boy undies in my lunch bag (clean of course), fake children in the bed at bedtime (real children running about).  But there was one trick we missed, one that took us totally unawares the next day.

                   BUZZZZZ (re-enacted brilliantly by the Daddy)

hiding under the cushion: battery, wire, and one loud little buzzer!  Arranged so that any pressure on the cushion would complete the wire circuit and make the buzzer go.

Clever little boys.

empanadas

Tonight was supposed to be big brother's night to make dinner.  We had discussed a plan in which he would be in charge of one dinner per week.  He would pick the recipe, he would write down the necessary ingredients, (I would do the shopping), and he would be in charge of cooking it, with help of course.

On Friday, as I took them to school, we discussed ideas. "How about chicken turnovers?"  I asked, and I went on to describe one of my favorite childhood dishes (where I come from this sort of thing is called an empanada -- a much more appealing word).  My mother used to make them -- delectable. 

Of course, given my rave review, there was great enthusiasm. A resounding yes in the car.

And of course, since I was working in town near the coop, I looked up the recipe.  And did the shopping.

And of course, on Saturday, I started "prepping" -  simply braising the chicken and vegetables.  But I told him "you're in charge tomorrow.  You're cooking dinner.  And if you don't cook, we'll have toast for dinner."

"Yes!" he said enthusiastically.  He was very excited.

But of course, come today, I decided we were running out of time.  I decided that I didn't want to interrupt their happy outside play.  I decided I had better just throw together the dough.

And of course, by the time they walked in the door, I was putting the little fork marks on the final empanada. All by myself in the kitchen.  Covered in flour.

And I was totally thrilled.

Yes I really should have slowed down and invited him to do every bit of the work.  I didn't follow through (even for a moment) with what we had set out to do. 

And he was a little disappointed.  But only for a second.  Because he was having a blast and I was having a blast, and really, it was all OK.  And the empanadas were GOOD.

Next time, it's all him.  I promise.  (And I'll have photos to prove it.)

(Note on photos: I don't cook to take pictures -- and I don't, even for a second, fancy myself a food blogger.  But when I do cook, things capture my attention -- the lovely shape of the dough, or the colors of the vegetables, or the beautiful patterns made from the cooking mess.  Cooking is such a REAL activity, it's true work done with the hands and the senses (nothing virutal here).  I'm compelled to try to capture it in all of its real-ness.)