Out of the mouths of babes

So, I recently learned some terrible news. A friend from High School lost her newborn son. I am overwhelmed with sadness for her.

The other night, during a conversation about other things, I mentioned to my 4-1/2 year old son that I was very sad that my friend's baby died. After a pause, Leo ardently said, "Momma, babies are supposed to get bigger, turn into grown ups, and THEN die. Babies aren't supposed to die. That's not fair."

I was really surprised at the maturity of his response. So, I said, "Well, maybe God just wanted Baby Will to come and live with him right away."

He shook his head at me: "No, Momma. God is sad when babies die."

Blew me away.

Happiness and equality for all

So, I cannot make the same claim as Keith Olbermann (see his comments). I do have family and close friends who could be affected by a law such as California's Proposition 8. A couple of knitting friends put this on their blogs. I decided to put it on mine as well so that we can continue to spread Olbermann's message. Spread happiness, folks. And if you don't believe in gay marriage, don't have one.

Counting tub rings

So, I have noticed a direct correlation between the number of children I have and the number of times in a month I bathe them. When Imp #1 was an infant -- you know, the kind of child that really doesn't do anything to get dirty except the occasional blow-out -- I would bathe him at least every other day. When he became a toddler and frequently got grimy, particularly in the summer months, I'd bathe him every day.

Then I had Imp #2. And while the two of them were still dunked in the tub on a fairly regular basis, it was, for sure, less frequent. This was in part due to #2's sensitive skin, but more because it was hard to bathe them together given #1's wild ways.

Bathing became even less frequent when I became pregnant with Imp #3. In fact, this past summer, there were often nights when I would look at the boys, see the grime on their little legs and arms, think about how difficult it would be to bend over my pregnant belly to wash them in the tub. So, if I was feeling ambitious, I would seat them on the sink and sponge bathe their hands, face, and feet only. Or fill up the kiddie pool in the back yard and let them wade around in it, calling it "good enough."

Enter #3. Now these kids are lucky to be bathed twice a month. Seriously. In fact, I am a little ashamed to admit it, but I'm pretty sure I can still count on one hand the number of times #3 has had a bath at home, and she was 4 months yesterday.

My mom is kind of picky, so I figure if they smelled or something, she'd tell me. And if #1 was truly ratty looking, his little old lady Russian preschool teacher would give me a disapproving look as she asked if #1 was familiar with soap and water.

I know it sounds terrible, but its true. And the kids don't seem the worse for the wear. I mean, we still wash hands before eating and after potty-ing. I still wipe diaper areas. I still have the 4-year-old clean his "privates" with a diaper wipe before putting on his Spiderman undies in the morning. I still trim nails and wipe faces after eating. I just don't give them a lot, er . . . many . . . er . . . any(?!?!) full-fledged baths.

I've decided that I can then use the tub rings to figure out how old they are.

A story from the past . . .

So, I was going through my old blog -- the one I could never maintain because it required way too much effort. I found this posting from January 11, 2007, and thought I would revive it because it still made me giggle:

The other day, I overheard Imp #1 having a rather animated conversation on his toy telephone.

I asked him who he was talking to. He replied, “Mr. Noah. I’m calling about the Ark.”

I knew him when . . .

So, I like to fancy myself a bit of an amateur photographer. I enjoy setting up the composition, and trying to take unique shots. Mostly of people, and primarily my kids. I’ve never taken a class, so I don’t really know how to control lighting all that well, which often makes things look different than I intended them to be. But here's one I am particularly proud of . . .

Imp #1 has gotten into the act as well – he is always asking to borrow the digital camera to take pictures. And sometimes, they are actually quite good.

Anyway, the photography-loving gene clearly runs strong in our family. My uncle, Larry, was a fantastic photographer. Here is one of his shots.

My dad, also, has a passion for the photo lens.

But most remarkably, is my young cousin-in-law. Not even a decade old yet, and he, already, is able to shoot fantastic photos with his parents’ camera. Check this one out, which he just sent to me.

Impressive, isn’t it? So, you heard it here first, I knew this fascinating kid long before he became the next Ansel Adams. And, young cousin, don’t forget when you grow up and get all famous, I knew you when you used to run at birthday cakes to take a big swipe with your fingers (also known in certain circles as "caking".)

Senator McCandyCane

So, after being up very late watching the election, momentous speeches, and history in the making, it was a little hard to get up this morning. For the parents, that is.

Imp #1, on the other hand, was up bright and early at 6 AM, tapping my face and begging for food. Our conversation quickly turned to politics, however. It went something like this:

#1: “Mom, wake up. I need brefest [read: breakfast].”

Me: “Oh, #1. I need to sleep for 10 more minutes.”

#1: “But I really need brefest. [Long pause.] Wanna talk about something?”

Me: “What do you want to talk about?”

#1: “How about rain storms?”

Me: “Hey, I know what we can talk about. Guess what? We have a new President.”

#1: “We do????”

Me: “Yes, can you guess who it is?”

#1: [Pumping his little fists in the air] “BARAK OBAMA!”

Me: “Yes!”

#1: “So, Barak Obama won and John McCain loosed. Right Mom?”

Me: “Right.”

#1: “John McCain is sad because he loosed.”

Me: “I suspect you are right.”

#1: [Thoughtful pause.] “Hey, you know what Mom? John McCain has “cane” in his name. Just like candy cane. So, he’s like candy. He could be happy about that!”

Me: “That's a good point.”

Note to Senator McCain: Anytime you start feeling down today, just remember, your name is like candy.

Election Day!

So, when leaving our polling place this morning, there was a woman sitting outside the booth asking people to fill out a "poll" for "the media". The ballot was supposed to be private/confidential and put into a box. Appeared to be a legitimate exit poll. Except that she was only asking men to fill them out. I stood there for 20 minutes watching her and she only approached men. In fact, she ignored me altogether, but asked my husband to fill one out. I saw her ignoring numerous other women as well. Won't asking only one type of person skew the exit polls therefore skewing the media reports therefore skewing people's beliefs about whether they should go out and vote if they think the election is going one way or another?

And why is it when I tell people about this, no one seems to care?

On the eve of "The Great Election"

So, I was contacted by my local public radio station seeking comments about my Election Day plans. Here are my responses for your reading enjoyment:

What are your plans for Election Day -- and night?

7:30 AM: Voting early -- as soon as my kids let me get out of the house.
7:50 AM: Off to work.
8:30 AM: Arrive at work. Check the internet and radio to find out who is winning despite the fact that polls won't close for many many hours.
8:45 AM: Having not found any information about who won yet, return to working.
10:00 AM: Check internet to see who has won. Surprisingly, still no answer.
10:10 AM: Return to working.
12:00 PM: Turn on radio to see who has won. Nothing yet. Hmmm, sensing a theme here. Eat lunch.
1:00 PM: Return to work.
1:20 PM: Check internet to see if there are any realistic predictions about who won. Frustrated, close Internet Explorer.
1:25 PM: Return to work, this time resolved to NOT check until polls actually close.
4:30 PM: Ignore resolve and check internet once more to see if there is anything new on the "winning" front. Still nothing.
4:45 PM: Leave to pick up kids from daycare. Obsessively listen to radio for news on the election.
7:00 PM: Leaving kids with husband, head off to weekly knitting group to discuss lines at polling places and discuss likely election outcomes, all the while busily making Holiday gifts.
9:00 PM: Return home and sit on couch with husband watching election returns until bleary-eyed and babbling incomprehensibly about who won.
Sometime in the wee hours of the morning: Bed.

How, if at all, do your plans differ from years past?

Planning on voting earlier than normal to avoid lines.

Where are you planning on getting your election night news?

When in the car -- Public Radio. When at home -- obsessively switching between CNN, MSNBC, and networks trying to find ANYONE who can tell me the outcome. This is so exciting!

What other events should we know about that are happening on Nov. 4?

Are there other events?

I crack myself up.

Leo learns about politics

So, I spend a fair amount of time trying to explain the upcoming Presidential election to my kids. I tell them that some people in the country are voting for Barak Obama for President, and others are voting for John McCain. I patiently respond to Imp #1's many rapid-fire questions about each candidate -- where he lives, who he works for, what his job is, whether he is a "good guy" or a "bad guy" (think Spiderman vs. The Green Goblin) -- which usually devolves into more philosophical questions -- why is Spiderman a "good guy"? Why is Captain Hook a "bad guy"? Why are bad guys bad? Will they ever become good?

Then, he usually remembers that we were talking politics and asks who I am going to vote for. I tell him that I am voting for Obama, but that when he gets old enough, he can vote for whomever he chooses, and that is what is so great about this country. But, then I usually point out the myriad of reasons why I think Obama is so much better than McCain. I was never totally sure that #1 really got it until recently.

How did I figure out his true comprehension for my Obama passion? Well, other than asking deep, philosophical questions about good guys and bad guys, Leo spends much of his time inviting and uninviting us to his birthday. Usually the conversation goes something like:

"Momma, can I have a lollipop?"

"Not before dinner, #1."

"You are not invited to my birthday!"

or

"Daddy, will you push me on the swing?"

"Of course. Hop on."

"Oh, Daddy, you're my best friend. You can come to my birthday party."

You get the picture. To #1, being invited or uninvited to his birthday party is the ultimate of all compliments.

Anyway, the other day, I apparently did something that displeased #1:

#1: "Momma, can I watch a show?"

Me: "Are you dressed yet?"

#1: "No."

Me: "Have you brushed your teeth yet?"

#1: "No."

Me: "Have you eaten breakfast yet?"

#1: "No."

Me: "Then, no show."

[Long pause.]

#1, taking my face between his hands, says very slowly and deliberately, as if to be sure that I will not miss a word: "Momma, I am not voting for Barak Obama!"

Ouch.

My first post

I have officially joined the age of the blog.

Well, I guess that is not entirely true in that I have had a scratch blog before, but it wound up becoming too much to maintain on my own and I basically jettisoned it after hearing question after question about when I was going to post again.

So, here is my newest attempt. We'll see if anyone thinks I have really anything all that important to say.

Who am I? A married mom of three who works full time and never, ever sleeps. Truth be told, I'm not sure how I function. Long term sleep deprivation is a slow and insidious disease.

My three kids -- 4-1/2, 2, and 3 months -- take it all out of me. And as cliche as it sounds, I wouldn't have it any other way.

Let's see how this goes ........