we came, we screamed, we ate hot dogs

I'm in New York on a business trip this week. Because it's summer vacation and we're embracing the idea of a quiet summer (i.e., we're intentionally avoiding formal summer activities like the plague so we savor the luxury of sleeping in every day), we have ample time to take off in the middle of week and go wherever we want to go.  The first two days of our time in New York, we were in Brooklyn.  While I went to the office to work, Charlie took the children on what he referred to as the "Brooklyn Death March."  Yesterday, they walked six miles from our hotel near the La Guardia airport, all the way to the Arthur Ashe Tennis Center (home of the US Open), past Citi Field (home of the NY Mets), around Flushing Meadows, and back to our hotel via a route along Flushing Bay.

Today, I was able to wrap up my work activities early and when Charlie and the kids came to pick me up at the office, they were swooned by my co-worker who loaded them up with tinted safety glasses and ice cream.



We then ventured south to Coney Island.



Upon arriving, William instantly laid eyes on the Army booth...



While the girls instantly laid eyes on the most psychotic roller coaster I've ever seen.



I'm not sure where these children, our daughters, get their courageous sense of daring and adventure, but they were desperate to get on it.  While the boys hung back with me, and before Charlie could say "NOT IT!" I bought him a ticket and promised him a draught beer at the end of his super fun ride.



This roller coaster starts by going straight up ... STRAIGHT UP!



Before going straight down ... STRAIGHT DOWN!



After the ride, Charlie explained to me that he just closed his eyes as soon as the ride started and said, "MAKE IT STOP. PLEASE GOD, MAKE IT STOP."



Then he said after the first hill was behind him he, "screamed like a small child."





Here's my husband describing to me what it felt like to be on a roller coaster with a 90 degree vertical drop, followed by a 100-foot loop, and a zero gravity roll along with dives - hills - and a corkscrew ... in less than two minutes.





As Charlie was reliving the experience, he looked as though he wanted to lay down in a fetal position and never ride another roller coaster again. His daughters, meanwhile, were begging to ride it again.

Instead, we put the kids on some flying machine ride...



A log ride ...



This roller coaster horse race ride, which I rode along with the children because I thought it looked tame enough, but it nearly made me throw up my breakfast from two days ago....



And then Charlie earned his stripes as Best Dad Ever when he won the kids various prizes from the carnival games.  This one was very tough, flipping rubber frogs in to little lily pad bowls that were on a table that turned in circles...



But my husband is a rock star and totally sunk the entire frog body in the bowl on the last round.





We then ate hot dogs along the boardwalk ...



Rounding out our full Coney Island experience, we spent the next 30 minutes people watching and decided 30 minutes is not NEARLY enough.  We're now in a hotel room in Manhattan and at almost midnight, someone is jackhammering in the room next to us.  According to the front desk, they're actually in a DIFFERENT building that shares an adjacent wall, and there is nothing they can do about the fact that the whole room is shaking and there is plaster coming off the ceiling.  Despite that, our kids are conked out on the floor of our tiny 150 square foot hotel room (that cost twice as many dollars).



In the city that never sleeps, our children most definitely are.

our Tommy boy

My extremely patriotic nephew, Tom, just graduated from high school.



Last year, Tom was contemplating a career in the Navy - but after taking a Caribbean cruise with my mother over New Year's ... he decided that he didn't much like being on a boat for several days with no sight of land.



Seeing as the odds were high that he'd be on a boat for several days at a time with no sight of land if he joined the Navy (and the odds were low he'd have the cruising benefits of nightly shows, on-deck swimming pools, and All You Can Eat Buffets), the Navy was promptly ruled out.



Another big decision Tom made this year, is that after spending a long 12 years in school, he'd rather take a hiatus from academia for a while. So instead of jumping in to University, on his own volition (and much to everyone's surprise) ... he enlisted in the Army.  



Back in March, my sister, Eileen, sent me a text message - out of the blue, with no forewarning - to let me know that Tom was enlisting in the Army that day.   And if that wasn't shocking enough, he had taken some kind of aptitude test that indicated he'd be well suited for UXO, or "Unexploded Ordnances."



Charlie and I had recently seen the movie "The Hurt Locker" so when I heard that my precious nephew, my godchild, my sister's only son, would be serving our country on a UXO team likely stationed somewhere in the war-torn Middle East, I promptly dropped to my knees in my office and prayed to God.



An hour later, while I was still fervently praying, Eileen sent me another text message to let me know that although Tom had passed his initial physical, when he underwent the physical screening for serving on the UXO team, it was determined that he was color blind.

OK, not totally color blind, but unable to decipher shades of brown from red and green in the time necessary to make the cut for UXO.  Obviously, that could be a real problem in the field, if someone is telling him, "What you need to do is cut the RED WIRE ..." and Tom takes pause and says, "Um ... red? OK ... hold on one second..."

Upon hearing the news, I - along with my sister Eileen and our entire family - lifted my arms to heaven and said, "THANK YOU, GOD ... for making Tommy slightly color blind!"

Instead of UXO, Tom will be an Army Medic. And now that the shock has slightly worn off, we couldn't be more proud of our nephew.  Overnight, Tom has turned in to a strapping young man that at 18 years old, stands 6'2" tall with beautiful blue eyes and an even more beautiful personality.  At the moment, he is in Kentucky with his church group, roofing homes for the less fortunate. (Roofing is a skill that he picked up while he was on a mission trip, earlier this year, in Jamaica).   



Last week, we were with Tom in Michigan and ten minutes after we arrived - a Nerf battle erupted.  From what I could tell, it was Tom and Henry, against the triplets and it was an all-out intense battle.  



I certainly hope it'll be more intense than anything Tom will experience in bootcamp, basic training, and the next several years of his Army career.

f

He is my godson, after all.

And I'm nothing if not a little overprotective.

... and then he was seven

For the fourth year in a row, we drove up to Clarkston, Michigan to participate in the annual 4th of July parade.



Once again, our birthday boy, Henry, tossed handfuls of frozen Hershey Kisses to the crowd ... kisses in exchange for birthday wishes.



But this year, instead of riding in the back of his Uncle's (now cousin's) truck, he sat perched on a small pillow, atop the roof of his Uncle's sports car.



And his siblings, instead of riding alongside him in the back of a truck, walked before him, carrying huge signs that read, "HAPPY BIRTHDAY HENRY!"



Note to self: I need to have a t-shirt made for William that reads, "I'm not Henry." 



Collectively, the lot of us tossed approximately 50 pounds of chocolate kisses to the more than 10,000 people that lined the parade route.  Next year, we'll need double that amount, because we still didn't have enough kisses and ran out nearly 1/2 way through.

  

Once Henry ran out of candy, he turned his palms to the sky and said to the crowd, "I'm sorry! I have no more chocolate, it's all gone!" That didn't stop the parade-goers from yelling, "Happy Birthday!" and launching in to song.



This has to be one of the best ways to celebrate a birthday! 



Riding down Main Street...



In a quintessential small town America parade...



Followed by a party with a Spiderman cake, a pile of presents, and dear friends and family.



The magic of the day, is almost comparable to the magic of having this little guy in our lives for the past seven years.  Almost.  



Happy birthday Henry ... we adore you!

the 1/2 birthday party

Yesterday, we drove up to Michigan to participate in the annual 4th of July celebration.  When we arrived, we walked straight in to a surprise party .... for the triplets.  



Because there is so much excitement surrounding Henry with the parade and fireworks ... and hundreds (if not thousands) of people along the parade route wishing him a Happy Birthday ... Auntie Eileen thought it was prudent to focus some of the party energy on our almost 10-year-olds.



Although they explained that their 1/2 birthday was actually on April 14th so this could technically have been a 3/4 birthday celebration, they were most definitely surprised....



And delighted!

the lazy sunday post

The children wrapped up their school year on Wednesday, so this weekend marks the first of our summer vacation.  Due to the nearly weekly snowstorms that lasted through the first week of April, we had a lot of school days to make up. From what I gather, this is the latest the children have ever been in school and I'm not sure if we actually did make it all up, or if the School Board finally decided enough was enough.   There are so many things we have in store this summer and the next 10 weeks stretch before us full of endless possibilities.  Here's the scene this morning...

Henry, helping to make breakfast:



Carolyn, lost in one of the books we checked out from the library yesterday:



Elizabeth, engrossed on tracing characters from a book we checked out from the library yesterday:



William, with his buddy (Tigger dba Hobbes), fully enraptured with a classic comic strip that matches his highly imaginative personality so well...



I'm surprised I've never considered the resemblance before.

kaleidoscope eyes

Her eyes are just as beautiful now ...



As they were when she was (almost) two.  And her spirit is just as sweet, too.

She wants me to tell all the people who wrote to me in response to my last post, THANK YOU.  Especially Bec from Sydney, Australia who is ready to jump on the next plane.

oh oh, here comes mama bear

I've started this post before several times before and have saved each version to my draft folder. At this point, I think there are three or four versions, waiting to be finished and published. But each time I sit down to wrap it up, I stall because I'm not really sure what to say, or if I should say anything.

Am I being an overreactive mother that is quick to jump in to the fray and protect her children from the pains that are simply part of growing up? Or am I being a proactive mother who is trying to nip bullying in the bud? As a reminder, this is the first year that the triplets have been in their own classes, so from my perspective, it's difficult to tell whether my children are being hypersensitive, or if there really is an issue that has warranted my attention.  

For the past several months, one of my children in particular has really been struggling with the social scene at school. The issues that I clearly remember with cliques when I was in middle school … are now present in elementary school.   Third grade to be exact. 

Our girls, although they are triplet sisters, couldn't be more different from each other.  Carolyn is a voracious reader and Elizabeth is a voracious athlete. Their personalities are vastly different and their physiques are vastly different.  Elizabeth is smaller than average for her age; whereas Carolyn is above average and stands almost six inches taller than her sister.  We suspect Elizabeth will max out at 5'7" like me, whereas Carolyn will easily top 6'0 and may likely approach 6'2" like her beautiful cousin, Alice.

The one thing that our daughters have in common, aside from their sparkling blue eyes and dark brown hair, is a sweetness that I now see is uncommon among nine-year-old girls. Although they aren't always delightful with each other, it warms my heart that they have such kind spirits with others, especially those who are not in any way related. Last month, when I was at the school, I heard from multiple teachers that our girls are consistently good natured with their peers and whatever we are doing at home, We Must Be Doing Right.  It was a nice moment, so I asked the teachers to write that down so I could frame it and put it on the wall.

Despite their good nature, nearly once every week, Carolyn has come home from school in tears. Now, perhaps it is just the drama of this age, but there is a small clique in Carolyn's class, that repeatedly does something or says something or looks at her funny or …. insert issue here ... that puts my daughter in to the realm of virtually unconsolable.

Lest I think she is overreacting, I've been to school and I've seen it, first hand.  The third grade boys are wonderful little goofballs.  But the clique of third grade girls in Carolyn's class, which is approximately one-third of the girls in the class - gather around one particular girl as their "Ring Leader" and can usually be found rolling their eyes at each other and scoffing behind one another's backs.

I've provided my daughter many pointers for coping with the situation that have ranged from just smile and be nice to them, to steer clear of them. I've even reached out to the teacher and apprised her of the situation, which resulted in Carolyn enjoying lunch with the school counselor on several occasions.

A few weeks ago, when Carolyn was conveying to me the story of something that had happened (I can't even remember anymore, all the scenarios have started to blend), I asked her what lemons tasted like?  "Bitter!" she told me.  Then I asked her what lemonade tasted like? "Sweet!" she told me.

I asked her what was it that made lemonade sweet?  "Sugar!" she said.

"That's right," I responded. "Sugar is what makes lemonade sweet. So when you feel like someone is being mean to you, all you need to do is add a cup full of sugar and turn that bitterness in to sweetness!" Then we practiced by saying various things to each other and responding as sweetly as possible.  The next morning over breakfast we continued to practice.

"Your dress looks awful!" I said.  "I'm sorry you feel that way, it's one of my favorites!" she replied with a twinkle in her eye.

"I don't want to sit next to you!" I sneered at her.  "Well that's too bad for you, because I'm awesome!" she responded with a grin.

"How do you feel?" I asked, confident that I had provided my daughter with all the wisdom and coping skills that she would need to survive the social bumps of third grade. "I feel great!" she replied as I kissed her cheek and sent her off to the bus.

When she came home that afternoon, she was in tears.

"What happened?!" I asked.

Again, I don't remember what exactly transpired but it had something to do with that little clique of girls. When I asked her about adding sugar to turn her lemons in to lemonade, she cried, "Mom, please! I was throwing BUCKETS of sugar at them all day and they were still so mean to me!" 

I've since been telling her that she should avoid them, completely. If you see them coming, walk the other way.  Don't be unkind to them - but surround yourself with people who are kind to you, too. And keep your eyes on the look out for the other kids who have been victims of their meanness, because they could really use you as a friend. 

Yesterday, I was at school for the third grade party and noticed that the little clique was standing together when another girl from the class ran up to join them. Why it is that kids flock to these mean children I don't understand - but they're like moths to the flame who get burned. 

As soon as the girl arrived, the Ring Leader turned on her heels and walked the other way, while the other girls scrambled to follow. As they walked away, they were glancing behind them to roll their eyes at the little girl who had been left.  Perhaps it was me seeing a moment in time that was not at all what I perceived it to be. But in the context of what I've heard from my daughter - and seen with my own eyes previously - I'm fairly convinced, this was cruelty in action.  

Just as I was walking over to the girls to say something (what I don't know … I hoped I'd have it figured it out by the time I reached them), the whistle blew and they all rotated stations.  But today, I was at school again for the kindergarten party and because I arrived a few minutes early, I joined our third graders in the cafeteria during their lunch.  As I sat with Carolyn and her friends at the table, who felt like the band of misfit toys that had been scorned by the clique, my eyes met the Ring Leader's and she scowled at me before rolling her eyes and looking away.

Oh no she didn't!

Oh yes …. she did. 

Rolled her eyes, at me.

Before I even knew what I was doing, I flew out of the chair so fast the kids at the table sitting next to me jumped.  At that same moment, the teacher walked in to the cafeteria to escort her students back to the classroom and the Ring Leader ran to the front of the line as her posse fell in behind her.  Walking straight to the teacher and glaring in to the eyes of each girl in the clique, I said in a significantly raised and barely controlled voice, "I want you to know that I have observed these children behaving very catty and it is unacceptable. They need to know that I see them, I know who they are and what they are doing, and their unkind behavior will not be tolerated."

The teacher seemed surprised, which was surprising to me, because these kids are with her all day and surely she has to be aware of the behavior. Or maybe she is so consumed with her lessons that she really is unaware.  Or maybe she is numb to it because it is commonplace for kids to act like jerks?

In talking with my mother tonight, she was telling me that social challenges are present in every stage of life.  Even now, in her retirement community in Florida, there are elderly women who only engage with a very small circle of friends and ignore everyone else.  OK, so even at 80-years old our children may have to deal with cliques, so they definitely need to obtain some lifelong skills to manage this now.

MY GOAL is to demonstrate the kind of behavior that I want to see my children exhibit. I want for them to be kind, gentle, inclusive and non-reactionary.  I do not want to jump in and try to solve my children's social problems by having us all stand around in a love circle singing Kumbaya, because I know they'll need to figure this stuff out on their own.  But I'm keenly aware of the devastating effects that bullying can have on people; I still remember the names and faces of the people that bullied me almost 35 years ago, and I'm sure that's why I'm such a vigilante and believe it's critical to teach our children to be brave and SPEAK UP.

On the one hand, I can let this third grade party / cafeteria incident slide and pray that (me and) my children mature over the summer, and next year will be better.  On the other hand, I send the girl's parents a note, tonight, and tell them what I've observed and how I'd like to get together and talk. I really do sense that there are some issues here that if we can work out in a healthful way - could do a great deal of good for the children on both sides: my Carolyn and the girls in the clique.  That really seems like a logical first step.

And if the girls are still mean to my Carolyn next year, well …. then I'll just push them down the rest of the steps.

this and that and now i need kleenex

Last month, someone wrote to me and asked about our blog books and in my response e-mail, I promised that I'd link to the company Charlie has used.  Here's that link: Blog2Print.

Last month, someone else wrote to me and asked about what kind of sandals our girls were wearing in this photo I'd posted to Twitter.  Now that I'm looking at the photo, I notice you can't see their sandals - but they really were wearing sandals, so maybe it was a different photo I'd posted. Or my eyesight is much worse than I think it is:



Regarding the sandals they were wearing in this photo, which I don't think you can see, they're Keens, of course. Here's that link: Keen Footwear.  These are still our all-time favorite shoes. It seems like just yesterday, I took them shopping for their first pair of itty bitty keens...



Look at how tiny! And now, they're wearing Keens that are almost the same size as mine.

Time, you go way too fast!



Earlier this month, someone wrote to me and asked if I'd talked to our children about the birds and the bees yet and the answer is no. Not really. Although I know the time is drawing very near and will likely happen over the next few months.

How do I know they're ready? Well, they're getting curious. For example, this past weekend, I noticed that our children had discovered the phenomenal book, "A Child is Born" and were in the process of reading it from cover to cover.  Actually, only one of our children ~ our most mature ~ was reading it from cover-to-cover….



The other children were busy doing things like peering over their sibling's shoulder and making funny faces at the various prenatal, delivery, and postnatal pictures.

And walking around the backyard with a lampshade on their head that they'd pulled out of my Goodwill donation pile, testing items to evaluate if they were magnetic.

Here's one taking a break from skateboarding down the driveway (hence the PPE), to harass their sibling's magnetic testing process. MOM! IF I WEAR HEADPHONES, I CAN'T EVEN HEAR HER YELLING AT ME! This is so great. Can I keep these forever?! 



Gosh, I'm nostalgic looking at these random pictures I took this weekend.  

Remember these moments: the days before the birds and the bees talk, the days of lampshades on heads, the lacrosse gloves and elbow pads for skateboarding, and the ribbing that siblings do. Remember these moments because they don't last forever.

Now I'm totally weepy. It must be crazy hormones.