Welcome Back

Seems summer has finally come to Cape Cod.
After being closed up tight for a week in the July humidity, our house smells like 50 cats live in it instead of just one. When we got home, Rufus was glad to see me for about two minutes - until she realized I'd brought those four short humans back with me.
I myself was glad to stay at Belfast's Comfort Inn last night, even for $179, since it meant a stand up shower, not having to bring my own sheets and towels, and not having to carry out any dirty diapers.
I felt like Arlo Guthrie driving around the mainland yesterday with our contraband bags of dirty diapers and returnable bottles. There's never a dumpster around when you need one. Isn't that always the way?
We drove around with our garbage smelling up the van until a half-hour out of Searsport when we struck pay dirt with a redemption center located next door to a gas station (H had to go). The gas station had a dumpster around back. There were even some vegetable plants piled up next to the dumpster so I was able to get Martha and Stephen a tomato plant as a trailer-warming present.

song: Welcome Back • song: John Sebastian

Island Girl

What's black and white and red all over?
Why is it that time marches on but generation after generation of children still find the same corny jokes funny?
And speaking of funny, why can't Heinz create a ketchup bottle that doesn't make - you know - that noise.
I suppose there are people out there who would rather have a plastic ketchup bottle than to have to go at it with a butter knife. But those people don't have kids. Nothing ruins a manners-molding family dinner like a farting ketchup bottle.
And now for the bad part gentle reader, or the good part depending on how you view the glass.
I'm leaving tomorrow for a remote island in Maine for a week; an island without wireless.
I didn't know such places still existed. I wonder if they've heard about Michael Jackson yet. For a week, I get to commune with my kids all day long without the midnight respite of Seinfeld reruns and a cathartic blog post.
Thankfully the island has heard about the repeal of prohibition.
So as Uncle Wiggly might say, if the rabbit doesn't hop out into traffic on the busy interstate, and the mommy doesn't rip out all her rapidly graying hair, I'll be back next week with more adventure stories.

song: Island Girl • artist: Elton John

Legs

Even cuter than a two-headed llama.

song: Legs • artist: ZZ Top

Just the Two of Us

Very funny to whomever left this book propped up in front of the double stroller on Monday when C and I were busy scouring the tables for Boxcar Children mysteries at the library book sale.
Funnier still that I bought it.

I like to put the twins into the same the baby swing at the North Falmouth playground. They remind me of Pullme-Pullyu, the two-headed llama from Dr. Doolittle.

song: Just the Two of Us • artist: Bill Withers

The Lion Sleeps Tonight

I retired the lion mobile tonight. The lion mobile has hung above the changing table for each of our kids. It was originally part of the changing table accessory that came with the Pack 'N Play my On The Water coworkers bought me before C was born. We only used that changing table briefly until Ken purchased a wooden table. Since we're still using the Pack 'N Play, the mobile was only retired to the attic. Still, the end is in sight and it's got me a little sad.
Just another first in the endless parade of putting away and getting rid of things as the children outgrow and lose interest in them. Even with being hopelessly busy, it's difficult not to get nostalgic over every little thing. There's always a spare minute for mourning the passage of time. So far the last of my offspring have outgrown bouncy chairs, size one (and two) diapers, those sleepers that are part sleeping bag, baby clothes sizes 0-3mo, 3-6mo, and finally everything 12mo and under, and various rattles, sustainable wood and otherwise.
The lion mobile was something all four of the boys were crazy about looking at, batting, and ultimately grabbing and trying to stuff into their mouths.
As an added bonus, the mobile used to inspire me to sing the weema-weh song. You know, "in the jungle the mighty jungle, the lion sleeps tonight." Or is it the quiet jungle? Or the peaceful jungle? Well, maybe it's all for the best, but the boys loved it at the time.
Michael Jackson might have been the king of pop, lions are the king of the jungle, but Mommy is the king of the changing table.

song: The Lion Sleeps Tonight • artist: The Tokens

I'm So Tired

How come when I come to work and it's warm in the office it makes me sleepy but when I'm trying to fall asleep and it's warm in the bedroom it keeps me awake?

song: I'm So Tired • artist: The Beatles

Mashed Potato Time

A blog comment from Mom-of-three, who doesn't know me very well, suggested I garden with my kids. The comment was posted in response to my entry about blue mashed potatoes. I realize that Mom-of-three was only trying to be helpful but she missed the spirit of the post.
I love that my kid wants to turn mashed potatoes blue. I love just about anything that keeps them from wanting to turn on the television in boredom. Blue mashed potatoes was followed the very next day by floating straight pins.
The phrase "turned the mashed potatoes blue" could be a metaphor for what life with kids is like. I think that's why we have kids, so they'll turn our world upside down, or at least turn our mashed potatoes blue.
Parents at dinner parties should turn to new acquaintances and say things like, "my life used to be predictable and ordinary, but then I had kids and they turned my mashed potatoes blue."

song: Mashed Potato Time • artist: Dee Dee Sharp

Ease on Down the Road

Yet another elderly driver has crashed into the front window of a liquor store. Instead of debating whether or not we should require older drivers to retake their driving test, perhaps we should ponder why seniors are drinking so much.

song: Ease on Down the Road • musical: The Wiz

One Night in Bangkok

WMVY has you covered whatever the circumstances. Today they admonished listeners not to drink and drive, not to drink and boat, and not to drink and go to the beach because you might pass out before applying sunscreen, which would result in a nasty sunburn.
Why stop there?
Don't drink and grill, especially shish kabob, for obvious reasons.
Don't drink and rent a bicycle because you might accidentally go for one of those four-wheel go-cart type things with the big striped canopy and end up embarrassing your family.
Don't drink and try to put away leftovers. You'll never be able to successfully match up the Tupperware with its appropriate covers.
And lastly, don't drink and go to the local coffee shop because they are renting videos now and you might accidentally rent one starring Nicolas Cage. Remember when he used to be quirky instead of buff and ridiculous? The title in question is Bangkok Dangerous. As if Mr. Nicolas is any less ridiculous in Bangkok.

song: One Night in Bangkok • artist: Murray Head

Sunny Afternoon

I have to confess. My children do not have appropriate rain gear.
You know how when it rains you see those adorable children outside in their Wellingtons and yellow rain slickers with the hoods up? They look like oversized rubber duckies inexplicably come to life (there must have been some magic in that old silk umbrella they found...). Those are not my children.
My kids are the ones digging in the mud puddle in their underwear. Or maybe in their bathing suits as they'll use any excuse to put them on.
The other day I suggested that C go out and dig a canal in order to join the puddle on the left side of the driveway with the puddle on the right.
Today H was out there trying to ride his surf board in the resulting giant puddle.
It's not that I'm sick of the weather. Rather, I'm sick of people talking about the weather.
The weather, unlike the piles of filthy laundry, the food-encrusted dishes, the sticky dining room floor, and the eternally burning question of what's for dinner, is out of my hands. I am not responsible for it and I cannot control it and in those regards I rather like it.
The weather is just. It rains on everyone. And yet people whine about the weather and it gets vilified.
The rain spoiled my picnic.
The rain is causing my vegetable garden to rot.
The rain is scaring away the tourists.
The rain is destroying the economy.
The rain sank my battleship.
The rain killed Michael Jackson.

song: Sunny Afternoon • artist: The Kinks

four poems about rain

poem #1 (a quatrain)

It rains on you,
it rains on me.
It rains on us,
indiscriminately.

poem #2 (a quatrain)

It rains and it pours
on ocean and land.
If you can't take more,
raise a wrinkled hand.

poem #3 (a couplet)

Rains pelts against the window sills.
I wonder when we'll all grow gills.

poem #4 (a couplet)

The rain outside
makes tourists hide

Tuesday Afternoon

C used food coloring to make blue mashed potatoes for dinner tonight.
The twins had the good sense not to eat them.
I knew they were smart babies.
I think I'm going to start relating to other people the way C and H do to each other:
H: You're the stupidest!"
C: No, you are!"

song: Tuesday Afternoon • artist: Moody Blues

Chapel of Love

When I chaperoned the preschool field trip to the Museum of Fine Arts last year I ended up with a car full of little girls on the ride home. They took the boys' dinosaur magnets, and instead of playing war with them, they paired them up according to which dinosaur was going to marry the other.
C cried when Sophia suggested it, but H seems okay with the idea of being married to Livia. Of course H also insists that Livia is his sister.
It's funny how little girls are talking about marriage before little boys even know what the word means.

song: Chapel of Love • artist: Dixie Cups

The Streak

H pulled his pants down at the preschool pot luck yesterday. It was like a foreign film - full frontal nudity. Thankfully his scene-stealing moment came after the candle ceremony so the other parents had finished shooting home movies.
I have this problem that, were I to write in to advice columnists, my letter would certainly be labeled a hoax.
Dear Abby,
My six-year old is reading too much in bed. He can read an entire Boxcar Children Mystery in one night. Tonight's is the mystery of the hidden beach. How do I get him to stop and go to bed?
Frustrated Parent
Ridiculous isn't it? What parent wouldn't want their kid to read in bed? The parent who is sick of dealing with an over-tired six year old who is short tempered with his four-year-old brother the next day - that's who.
In addition to his own reading, we've been reading The Hobbit together. It's been a long time. I'd forgotten most of the story. I did find it funny in the chapter where the group encounters the trolls, that not only are the trolls mean and nasty, they talk with a cockney accent.
Hopefully I won't cry at the end when (spoiler!) Thorin dies like I did in Charlotte's Web. I'll probably be able to keep it together. I remember being kind of choked up at the end of The Return of the King, but that was disappointment that the story was ending, not sadness over one particular character.
H and I have been reading Billy and Blaze; books I remember from when I was a kid. I even remember what shelves the Billy and Blaze books were kept on at the East Falmouth Library - back right corner, up high, in the A's, for C.W. Anderson. I remember the beautiful drawings more than the plot of the stories. In rereading them I see why. The stories aren't all that compelling despite their gorgeous illustrations. Worse than that, Billy and Blaze, the first book, is a parent's worst nightmare.
Who wants to read their kid a story about a child who actually gets a pony for his birthday?

song: The Streak • artist: Ray Stevens

I Won't Grow Up

There will be appreciations and retrospectives and people who will forgive him for every freakish thing he ever did but what everyone is really thinking is, "if Michael Jackson is dead, can I be far behind?"

song: I Won't Grow Up • musical: Peter Pan

Ride On

Well that didn't take long - all my good feelings about the bike path have evaporated. At the intersection of Old Dock Road and the bike path I have already run into (though not literally) one too many bikers staring me down because I'm not coming to a complete stop before crossing over the bike path. I'd like to say in my own defense that - there is no stop sign for vehicles! Yet there IS one for bikers. I'd also like to point out that all of those disapproving bikers were still on their bikes even though there's also a sign that suggests bikers dismount to cross the road. I'm not trying to be a big stickler for rules here. I've rolled through the occasional stop sign in my day. Dismounting does seem to be a bit of a stretch. I'm just saying that people who ride on two tires shouldn't throw tacks.
And as for all the greenery that was planted at said intersection, those larger trees are obstructing my view of who's coming down the path. Which makes it all the harder for me the see the biker who isn't stopping to get off his bike to cross the road before giving me a dirty look.

song: Ride On • artist: AC/DC

It's Your Thing

Human beings aren't born with any innate abilities. A few interesting reflexes perhaps but we can't build a nest like a bird or migrate to Mexico inn the fall like a monarch butterfly. We can't swim upstream to mate in the same pool where we were spawned like salmon do - heaven knows as a species we have a lousy collective sense of direction.
There is one thing however that males of our species are innately in tune with - obsessed with, if you will. You know what it is - you know. It's what makes teenagers hide copies of Playboy under their mattresses or google "big jugs." It's what makes politicians hire overpriced prostitutes and what makes little boys walk around with their hands down their pants. And if you happen to have twin boys not only to they have their own appendage to hold onto, they can also make a grab for their brother's goods.
Penis grabbing prevention must have been the impetus for the invention of clothing. Without clothes early man would have walked about with one hand on his club and the other on this "little club," thereby leaving no hand free with which to drag women around by the hair. Without a free hand for hair dragging he would have been unable to convince early woman to accompany him back to his cave, ply her with woolly mammoth burgers (which she would have to cook) and ultimately conceive cave babies.

song: It's Your Thing • Artist: Isley Brothers

the 2nd question (a couplet)

Does wine taste better
in stormy weather?

the question (a couplet)

The wind it whips and the rain it pours
Did I close the mini van's side doors?

I'm So Excited

This has to be the coldest month of June on record. Think of all those dads who didn't get to grill on Fathers Day. Isn't it enough that they got cheated out of unrecognizable crafts handmade by their children because Fathers Day feel after the close of school this year? Must they go without grilled grub and a day on the golf course as well?
The global warming nay-sayers must all be wagging the fingers and saying, "See? It's all bunk. Just like I told you."
The radio announcer described today's weather as "exciting." Mmmm. I'm sure that's how the local chamber of commerce is feeling about it too. It's exciting if you don't mind wind, rain, cold, and cancelled ferry boats day in and day out. It's exciting for me to walk around the house closing and opening windows and wondering how many blankets to put on the bed.
Is wearing footie pajamas in June exciting for my kids? I'll have to ask them. How about a big bowl of steaming hot chili when we should be moving on to chicken salad season?
H decided to forgo pull ups and wear undies to bed last night.
Now that's exciting.

song: I'm So Excited • artist: The Pointer Sisters

Give A Little Bit

Ah, the stress of the end-of-the-year gift for the teacher, and the speech teacher, and the teacher's aide, and the bus driver, and the bus driver's aide...
Before they got to the house this afternoon I put some banana/chocolate chip muffins in some leftover party goodie bags for H's bus driver and her assistant. I'm afraid the muffins were kinda dry because I left the butter in the microwave (again!). Instead of dry I preferred to think of them as "accidentally healthier."
Not good enough I guess because tonight H announced he was making a present for his bus driver. He proceeded to take one of his stuffed animals, a stuffed kitty accurately named, "kitty" and tape construction paper all over it. After, he taped the construction-paper-covered kitty to the dining room floor. It looked like a stuffed kitty in a well-staked-down tent.
Then he asked C if he would take the present to school tomorrow for Miss Mary.
C cried and said he didn't want H to give away the stuffed kitty because he would miss it.
H reconsidered and generously decided to give Miss Mary - our couch.
I said that I would miss the couch.
He reconsidered again (begrudgingly) and started making Miss Mary a card with "horse and doggie stickers on it."
Then he decided to give the card with the stickers on it to C instead.

song: Give a Little Bit • artist: Supertramp

(again!)

Thyme of the Season

I never trust a recipe that encourages me to "season to taste." It's as if the recipe can't make a commitment.
I picture a hefty Italian mama in her apron and floral-print dress (pulled tight across her bosom), wooden spoon in hand, leaning over to taste her pasta sauce.
Though years of taste-testing hot spaghetti sauces have burnt off her taste buds, she will still emphatically declare, "needs more oregano."
Mangia!

song: Thyme of the Season • artist: the Zombies

Beautiful Day

Walking the bikepath on Sunday from Old Dock Road to Old Palmer Avenue was the closest I've ever come on Cape Cod to people watching the way you can on Boston Common. Everyone was out. Everyone.
I saw old couples. I saw young couples. I saw a couple holding hands while biking.
I saw all manner of children and families.
I overheard mothers and fathers who were not practicing Effective Parenting.
I saw a dad twirling his daughter around while giving her a shoulder ride.
I saw a man countering the healthful effects of biking by biking while smoking.
I overhead couples and groups of friends discussing where they were going to eat dinner after their walk and from what I could hear, Chappy Grill was in for some business.
I was surprised by how many people on the path were from out of town. Don't they have fabulous bike paths in their own communities?
I saw all manner of biking apparatuses. Who knew there were so many? Bikes, recumbent bikes, two seater bikes, two seater bikes with a child carrier attached. Also all manner of attaching one's offspring to one's bicycle. Up front on the handle bars, behind in a chair, behind in a trailer hitch. I saw a dad go by with his daughter in one such trailer hitch and when he passed by a second time the daughter was gone. I hope he knew.
I saw a family that was pulling the family pet - in its pet carrier - in a red wagon. I'm still kicking myself that I didn't ask them the story behind that.
I wondered how the owners of all those million dollar homes felt now that us riffraff could enjoy the same view.
I saw only one item of trash the entire walk and believe me, I was looking.
I was kept company by all manner of wildlife. Some that I could see: red winged black birds, herons, and rabbits, some that I could only get a glance of: yellow warblers, and some that I could only hear: bull frogs.
Everywhere I looked people were happy. I wanted to be my usual cynical self, wondering what everyone had to be happy about, but I couldn't help myself. I was happy too.

song: Beautiful Day • artist: U2

Words

One of the "words to talk about" on C's weekly "family time" worksheet last month was vaporetto.
What we "talked about" was how none of us knew what vaporetto meant. I had to look in two dictionaries before finding it listed as an entry and yes, I still look in the dictionary so file me under D for dinosaur.
A vaporetto is a public transportation boat used in Venice.
Kindergarten sure isn't what it used to me.
As a kindergartener C has also learned about Bakugan. If you don't know about Bakugan then it's obvious you don't have a child in elementary school.
Bakugan are like circular Transformers. I can't believe I know what I Transformer is. They are also a Pokemon thing. That's about all I can tell you. There's an elaborate game that you can play once you've collected, or should I say once your mother has purchased you, enough Bakugans, but as far as I can see nobody actually plays the game they just trade Bakugans back and forth with their friends.
The only good thing about Bakugan (and Pokemon) is that its phonetically spelled (which is more than I can say for the word phonetically).
I'm neither for or against them at this point but I do kind of wish C could have grown up during the Beenie Baby craze instead.

song: Words • artist: The BeeGees

Our House

46 Across: Our House

song: Our House • artist: Madness

Digging in the Dirt

It's fixing up to be a tough year in the community garden. We saw four baby rabbits last time H and I were there. Maybe it was really the same rabbit and he was just getting around very quickly but we saw him in all different corners of the garden. He would have to have been Houdini's rabbit to get around like that. And hungry? He was one hungry rabbit. Having nibbled all the tops off the newly sprouted bean plants I could see he'd come to the realization that baby bean leaves taste delicious. Interestingly the rabbits had not touched any of my sugar snap pea plants or any of the pea plants in the other plots. This made me wonder why my CSA puts pea tendrils in my veggie bag every year and never any baby bean leaves. Why would I want to eat something that even rabbits thumb their little pink noses at?
In exchange for leaving the peas alone, the rabbits did elect to taste our radishes. One nibble out of each radish. I don't understand rabbits. Why one nibble per radish? Why not just pull one radish and eat the whole darn thing?
Then the persistent cold weather has my tomato plants on the verge of total collapse, despite their shiny new tomato cages. They look like they need intensive care, maybe an IV drip.
Planting a vegetable garden is this year's new black. There are articles in the paper constantly about when to plant what, and offering all manner of advice on growing vegetables. I drove by the methodist church tonight and noticed they'd dug up part of their front yard for a garden. Well good for them I say. Everyone is getting into this locavore movement and knowing where your food comes from. But for people who are growing vegetables in an effort to save money I say - good luck. Maybe after a few years you might break even but the first year - not a chance. First there's the plants themselves, you've got to buy either seeds or plants, I always buy more than I can possibly use - I never learn. Then, if you've never gardened before you'll need a shovel, maybe a hoe, maybe a hose and a sprinkler, you might even need to have some nutrient rich soil trucked in - it's not like people can garden in what used to be their pesticide-laced front lawns. You might need a starter kit and large pots if you plant to grow your vegetables on the deck or patio. Tomato plants need tomato cages, pole beans and sugar snap peas need something to grow up, you'll need some Neptune's Harvest organic fertilizer, you'll need a hat with a big brim, maybe some gardening gloves and a bucket, liquid fence to discourage rabbits, a real fence or raised beds if your rabbits are very smart. You can go crazy and get Walls of Water to extend your growing season, kneeling pads, cold frames. The lists goes on and on.
And for what? Some rabbit-chewed radishes? Let's face it, radishes aren't even a real vegetable. I only grow them so my kids will have something to pick early on so they don't lose interest in the whole thing. And so Houdini's rabbit won't starve.

song: Digging in the Dirt • artist: Peter Gabriel

Substitute

"To open - gracefully tear along perforations."
Maybe it's okay for the junk mail advertising writers to try and convince me that I am a, "Gourmet Asian Food Lover," but I'm not sure I like my pseudo yoga clothing delivery bag telling me how I should open it.
Last week C made a cake from scratch using his own recipe. I had to remind him to put in baking soda (he decided to put in both soda and powder just to be on the safe side) but let's just say the cake came out good enough to eat - which we did.
Unlike adults, kids have no fear of failure, which is a great thing when baking a cake from scratch but not so great when it comes to less safe behaviors. If I'm lucky he'll be so busy with his culinary curiosities he won't want to get his driver's license until he's 25.
They say that necessity is the mother of invention but I have found that stupidity is invention's mother more often than not. Today's list of things to do included making peanut butter cookies. I doubled the recipe, because what is the point of three dozen cookies, but when I mixed everything up it looked suspiciously dry. I didn't have enough flour to start over again so I poured in some milk. Then I poured in some more. Then I put the first cookie sheet in the oven. Ten minutes later I had cookies, kinda lumpy but not too bad. S ate one without complaining.
Then I decided to go in for some more mood-enhancing tea but the tea was cold and there's nothing less good-mood enhancing than cold tea so I opened the door to put it in the microwave. Voila! A bowl full of butter - proving that you can get out all the ingredients but that doesn't mean all the ingredients will make it into the cookies.
Hence I discovered through sheer stupidity, that it's possible to substitute milk for butter without dire consequences when making peanut butter cookies.

song: Substitute • artist: The Who

(Not So) Tiny Bubbles

What to do with random pieces that fall off your house?
Blow bubbles with them of course.
Bubble solution: 1pt dishwashing liquid, 12pts water, and some of that corn syrup you were saving for pecan pie.

song: Tiny Bubbles • artist: Don Ho

Free Bird

Yesterday I read about a mom who writes a blog on how to save money. Thirty-thousand people a month tune in to read her advice.
I can't remember if the theme was saving money in general or saving money specifically in regards to meal planing but hell, I'll give it a try.
Having four kids is a great way for you to save money because you won't have time to shop for anything except birthday presents for other people's children.
The best way to save money at the supermarket is to never, never take your children there. Leave all grocery shopping to your able-bodied husband provided he can read a list and isn't afraid to pick up the occasional feminine hygiene product.
Another way in which I save money is by encouraging my cousin to shop for kids clothing at the Madaket Mall. When you have four kids it doesn't matter the size of the clothes - they are bound to fit someone.
I used to outfit myself by shopping entirely at rummage sales and thrift shops. I love to rummage, even at the dollar a pound store when the price increased to $1.50 a pound. This has led to me having scores and scores of clothing. Now I've started to purge. All above-the-knee dresses - gone. All dresses that drag on the floor and have tripped me while climbing the stairs - gone as well.
I find myself having to mail order clothing now. Preferably from catalogues that push organic cotton yoga wear to people who don't do yoga. However, having four kids saves me money in this department as well because even though I am mail ordering expensive clothing, I need much less of it since I barely ever leave the house
So there you go - my tips on how to save money.
I'm ready for my book deal (and my close up) now.

song: Free Bird • Lynyrd Skynyrd

Big Time

A commercial for male enhancement pills (Extends) just followed the opening ten minutes of The Color Purple. Talk about an ad being woefully ill-timed.

song: Big Time • artist: Peter Gabriel

Alive and Kicking

How many times does this happen to you? It's morning and there's a 16-month old baby on the changing table. You put his right leg into a pair of pants and then you move in for the left leg but the baby decides now is a good time to show you what a soccer star he's going to grow up to be and starts kicking furiously. So much so that by the time his left leg is in his pants his right leg is out of them. So you go back to the right leg but the same thing happens again, left leg out, right leg in, left leg in, right leg out. You keep going back and forth and it's like you're trying to dress an uncooperative octopus who is soon to be diagnosed with ADD.
And it's funny but frustrating because you know there's another 16-month old who is also waiting to get dressed and while he's been waiting he's taken all the tupperware out of the middle drawer in the dining room and you look around because even though the bathroom is small you're sure there's got to be a hidden camera.
When it's time to put everyone in their car seats it's the same thing all over again. Except this time it's with arms and five-point harnesses instead of legs and pants, and instead of hidden cameras it's Google Earth that you're sure is watching

song: Alive and Kicking • artist: Simple Minds

If This Is It

The cat has taken to sleeping in the newspaper recycling basket. I don't mind except that now I have to carefully place the daily papers in it and I used to derive a certain amount of satisfaction from pitching them in the basket with force - take that, you house-clutter you!
It's much less satisfying to gingerly arrange them around the cat.
I've been feeling like a Judas but lately I can't help wondering how much longer I can justify a subscription to the Boston Globe. The price of the paper is up to $1.50 a day. I don't even know what the Sunday paper is costing me. That's $1.50 a day and no redelivery in my area for missed papers. In the past few years they've cut most of what I liked about the paper including my favorite section (Home) and my favorite columnist (Barbara Meltz), and turned what used to be fleshed-out stories in the Globe Magazine into sound bites. Is it worth $1.50 per day to read Dilbert, the editorials, and the occasional art review by Sebastian Smee? Does the entire future of the newspaper industry hinge on my continued subscription? Is it treason for someone who works for a newspaper to bail out on another paper that's in dire straits even though, when analyzed, my relationship with the Globe (like my relationship with spring) seems to be unhealthy (monetarily at least) and one-sided.
On the other hand if I cancel I might have to invest in a proper bed for the cat.

song: If This Is It • artist: Huey Lewis and The News

The Difference

H has ascertained the difference between boys and girls.
"Girl babies wear bows in their hair," he observed.
For Ken and I the difference is less obvious.
On Saturday, when the weather started to cool off, I grabbed the first thing within reach as a cover up. The item in question, or the questionable item, was Ken's CC Marathon sweatshirt.
"I never seen you wear Daddy's shirt before," said H, "you look like Daddy."
Later on C came in the dining room, glanced into the kitchen and said, "I thought you were daddy."

song: The Difference • artist: The Wallflowers

Southern Cross

C nailed two leftover pieces of hardwood flooring in the shape of a cross and told me he was going to give it to our minister. But instead of bringing the cross to the minister he left it propped up outside our front door which makes it look as if Jesus has stopped off at our house on his way to Golgotha.
Maybe he's looking for one last consecrated virgin.

song: Southern Cross • artist: Crosby Stills & Nash

poems from the subway

couplet 1
Ride the train
Avoid the rain

couplet 2
Subway cars packed
Everyone trapped

couplet 3
Bottled water, coffee, Diet Coke
Thirsty riders in a rumbling boat

couplet 4
Woman reading recent best seller
I Love Lucy bag parked beside her

couplet 5
Whiney child dressed all in pink
Frazzled mommy cannot think

couplet 6
Large textbook is being read
Student aims to get ahead

couplet 7
Pizza box perched on young woman's knees
Easy taking corners - if you please

couplet 8
Little Tommy spies trains, he's happy to see them
Plans movie outing to Night at the Museum

couplet 9
Foreign languages overheard
Can't understand a single word

Little Lies

Dear Cake Mate,
Could you please explain why the word festive appears to the right of the brand name on your 50-count package of white baking cups? What's so festive about white baking cups? If these are festive, what do ordinary, non-festive baking cups look like?
Perhaps, being white, the baking cups might surround cupcakes bound for a wedding or first communion. Admittedly, either event would be considered a festive occasion, however, white baking cups on their own are not festive.
While the phrase "gourmet Asian food lover" on a direct mail piece might make consumers feel good about themselves. "Yes," we think, "I am a gourmet Asian food lover," even though we've tasted neither sushi nor kimchi. Perhaps you folks at Cake Mate were striving for a similar "feel good" association. "Yes, standing in my outdated kitchen wearing the same clothes I wore yesterday, making banana chocolate chip muffins for my kids' lunch boxes is a festive activity."
But I think you underestimate your customers. Any fool can see there's nothing festive about your white baking cups aside from the fact that they are easy to peel off one's cupcake or muffin. The only thing less festive than white baking cups is having to pick tiny torn bits of them off a baked good and knowing that there's no way to avoid eating pieces of it.
In which case one has to hope that they are both festive and unbleached.
Sincerely yours,
Joanne

song: Little Lies • artist: Fleetwood Mac

Like A Virgin

After a certain age there comes the realization that certain goals in life may never be accomplished. For example I will never become an Olympic gymnast, or a modern dancer. I will never climb Mount Everest or traverse the continent on a bicycle. I'll never move to the rain forest to live with pygmies or sing Away in a Manger in the Sunday school Christmas pagent. And that's okay. Recently they interviewed a 52-year-old prostitute in the newspaper. Now there's a career opportunity I would have thought was closed to me as well, but now I have hope. That's right kids, Mom could still be a hooker.
Sunday I read in the Boston Globe magazine about a different type of vocation - the consecrated virgin .
The writer interviewed three consecrated virgins; women who have formally "married Jesus," in ceremonies that included white dresses but no Crate and Barrel bridal registry. The article failed, at least in my opinion, to address the elephant in the room. Since divorced women can now become nuns and divorced men can become priests, can divorced women, that is, women who presumably have had sex, become consecrated virgins? That is to say, is this a career option that's still open to me?
And where does Jesus fit into the picture? Doesn't he get a say in who he wants to marry? Seems he's been getting fixed up since his mystical marriage to Saint Catherine all those years ago.
The Globe article said there were 250 consecrated virgins in the United States alone. That's 250 women married to Jesus. That makes Jesus a polygamist. Or a Mormon.

song: Like A Virgin • artist: Madonna

Romeo and Juliet

The direct mail piece from Peking Palace was addressed to "Gourmet Asian Food Lover," which sure beats "current resident" in terms of clever marketing appeal.
It reminded me of the letters I used to send and receive from my college boyfriend. Letters addressed to Sonny from Cher, to Romeo from Juliet, and to Prince Charles from Lady Diana (hey, it was the 80s).
It made me nostalgic, but not for the reason you're thinking. It wasn't young love I found myself pining for, but the lost art of letter writing.
A letter addressed to Marc Anthony from Cleopatra will still get there. An e-mail? Good luck with that.
Speaking of young love, it's prom time again. I thought I might write another piece about the things you've missed this past year. But since you've missed everything - where would I begin?
This one I couldn't let go by though. Eric is selling that house. You know, the house he floated over from Chapoquoit Island. The house that sat in the parking lot of Old Silver Beach for weeks. The house that caused trees to be cut down and power to go out in North Falmouth in order to move it to its new location. The house that I'm sure Eric is quoted in the paper as saying he planned to "live in."

song: Romeo and Juliet • artist: Dire Straits

Walk This Way

song: Walk This Way • artist: Aerosmith

couplet advice for preschoolers making banana chocolate chip muffins

just mash
don't splash

At The Hop

Whenever people want to drive home the point that coyotes are roaming at little too freely on Cape Cod they bring up the rabbit population.
"I never see any rabbits any more; it's because of all the coyotes," they say in their most all-knowing wildlife biologist voice.
Using rabbits as a marker then, the coyote population must be in a steep decline despite the little fellow who wanted to join the jr. baseball game last Saturday. Having returned from a walk this evening I can assure you that the rabbit population in Pine Bay is doing just fine - thank you very much. I saw at least 10 cottontails tonight and those were just the ones I almost tripped over while listening to "Wait, Wait, Don't Tell Me" on my iPod.
If you're concerned that a possible lack of coyotes might lead to rabbit overpopulation you needn't worry about that. Most of the rabbits were munching on pesticide-laced lawns - which can't be too good for them. Too bad they haven't learned to read those little yellow flags.

song: At The Hop • artist: Danny and the Juniors

The Shape I'm In

Every time we go to a birthday party my son declares after the party's over that he wants the same, theme/venue/entertainment at his party.
We go to the children's museum for a party - he tells me he wants to have his party at the children's museum. We go to one with a moon bounce in the back yard, he tells me he wants a moon bounce in the backyard at his birthday party
We went to a party recently that featured a party bus and Captain Scallywag, the party pirate. Of course, after the party was over (and we followed the bus out of the driveway), C said wistfully that he wished he could have a pirate at his birthday party.
I think if I could face paint and whip up a few balloon animals we might be able to skip the party pirate (who can trust a pirate these days anyway?) I have an art background, I should be able to handle it, though I'll admit Captain Scallywag painted a mean American flag on C's face and turned H into a good-lookin' shark.
As for the balloon animals, what it really comes down to is knowing how to make the sword. In the end, all the kids wanted to do was joust with balloon swords.
And the balloon sword doesn't look that difficult really. It's only one balloon with a few twists at the end. However, without the pirate send up and the backyard full of three-and-six year olds, the pirate sword could be misconstrued for something else entirely - something the party pirate might make for his adult parties - if you know what I mean. When, instead of Captain Scallywag, he goes by his other name - Long Dong Silver.

song: The Shape I'm In • artist: The Band

I Want You To Want Me

It's town election day.
My neighbor has a campaign sign in her front lawn which I find very optimistic given that we live half way down a dead end dirt road which is populated mostly by summer folks.
I'm thinking of voting for her candidate just so she'll know she influenced one person.

song: I Want You To Want Me • artist: Cheap Trick

wet sunday haiku

another gray day
the backyard grass is all wet
where will the twins crawl?

I'm Henry the VIII, I Am

Based on flimsy research I've concluded that Henry is the most popular name in all of children's literature. It is a name popular for protagonists both human and anthropomorphic as well as secondary characters and even antagonists. It's a name that transcends generations as it remains popular today and yet can be found in examples of classical literature. Here is some data to back up what I realize may be a bold statement.
Let's start with a few obvious examples.
For series books there's of course Henry and Mudge and Beverly Cleary's Henry Huggins series. Interestingly both of those series feature boys named Henry who have dogs, but Henry-and-the-pet-dog connection is a subject for another day. Henry is the name of the oldest sibling in the Boxcar Children mystery series. His age fluctuates between 14 and 18 depending on whether or not they need him to drive a car in order to solve the case. Incidentally, Henry is also the middle name of the children's grandfather - Mr. Alden.For animal characters named Henry there's a series about an adventurous cat named Henry who stars in titles such as "Henry the Sailor Cat," and "Blue Ribbon Henry."
Henry the bear is the main character in a series of picture books with titles like "Henry Builds A House," and "Henry Takes A Walk." In these stories our hero Henry is based on Henry David Thoreau, who, if I were going to rewrite as an animal I wouldn't turn into a bear. If I were to cast the characters of American Bloomsbury as anthropomorphic animals I think I see Emerson as more of a bear, with Mrs. Emerson being a fox. Father Abcott would be a mule and bookish Louisa an owl. Henry David, having spent so much time down at Walden Pond, I would make some kind of fowl. Maybe a swan or at least an ugly ducking.
"Henry Goes Visiting," is about a barnyard porcine who travels one farm over to visit his sister, Henrietta pig. The cautionary tale of "Henry's Awful Mistake," features a duck named Henry who encounters disastrous results when he tries to deal with his ant problem using a hammer.
Back to human Henrys there's Henry Green a boy who, according to the back flap of "Chocolate Fever," "probably loved chocolate more than any body in the history of the world."
Henry as an antagonist? Look no further than "Mike Mulligan and his Steam Shovel." Who can forget Henry B. Swoop smiling "in a rather mean way," and announcing that Mike Mulligan wouldn't get paid for digging the cellar of the new town hall in "just one day" because Maryanne wasn't out of the cellar and therefore, "the job isn't finished."
For secondary characters, those who you might not notice were named Henry unless you happened to suddenly find yourself obsessed with the name, we turn first to one of the great classics, Charlotte's Web. Although none of the barnyard animals sported the name, surely you remember Henry Fussy, the violin player and Fern's love interest. Yes, Fern had a love interest, look it up yourself.
Even the French version of Henry has it day with "Herni Mouse" a disturbing little picture book in which Henri, the artist mouse, moves to Paris and makes everything he paints disappear.
There are Henrys that barely register, again unless you're looking. In the book "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs," which makes me hungry just thinking about it, Henry is the name of the little brother who gets a pancake flipped on his head at breakfast thus inspiring Grandpa to tell the bedtime story that makes up the bulk of the book's plot. Interestingly, the narrator is Henry's sister who is nameless as is Grandpa - he's just Grandpa. Only Henry has a proper name.
Henry's show up in surprising places. In the book "Goose's Story," a true story about a goose with only one foot, the narrator's dog is named Henry. In "I Drive a Dump Truck," the dump truck driver is named Henry.
According to the site mybabyname.com Henry means "ruler of the house" which I guess is why all those kings sport the name. In the 1900s Henry was a top ten boy's name and according to BabyNamer.com it was 118th most popular between the years 2000 and 2003.
"Charlotte's Web" is filled with colorful names. Remember Lurvy, Templeton, and Avery? I don't know why Charlotte falls for someone with such a plain name but maybe that's the lure of Henry - it's a simple, accessible name, not too flashy. A name that gets the job done without calling a lot of attention to itself. It's a bit of a no nonsense name. I would consider it to be a good stoical New England name. Henrys don't go around expressing their feelings and hugging everyone they meet. I can see why none of the characters in "Because of Winn-Dixie" were named Henry.

song: I'm Henry the VIII, I Am • artist: Herman's Hermits

Thirty-Thousand Pounds of Bananas

Have you noticed how the networks now air tv shows so that a new one begins before the credits have finished rolling on the one before it? Remember when there were commercials between television shows, and pipe cleaners were called pipe cleaners instead of chenille sticks? Now all the commercials air during the programming and viewers get sucked into a new plot line before they have time to reach for the remote or take a bathroom break.
In The Office, the employees, well Michael at least, seem to jump into their cars on a whim and drive to New York City. What's the distance between Scranton, PA and NYC? By the looks of the show it's about 45 minutes.
I could Google it and find out but it's not that important really.
Everything I need to know about Scranton, Pennsylvania I learned from the Harry Chapin song.

song: Thirty-Thousand Pounds of Bananas • artist: Harry Chapin

Learning to Fly

Next week is the last Effective Parenting class. After 15 weeks of classes and small group discussion I should be a darned effective parent by now.
If I could sum up what I've learned about effective parenting it would be this: effective parenting is hard; ineffective parenting is easy. It's easy to yell at your kids; it's hard to try and find out what's wrong with them - to find out what's causing the behavior as Lee would say. It's easy to put a kid in time out, it's hard to decide on a logical consequence. It's easy to say the wrong thing when you're mad, it's hard to admit it later and to apologize.
We live in this strange society where it's assumed that when one becomes a parent they will innately know how to parent. We take birthing classes, but we don't take parenting classes. What I hear most when I tell people I'm taking a parenting class is, "you don't need to take a parenting class, you're a great mom," and while I appreciate this sentiment, even great doctors take enrichment classes and seminars to hone their skills and learn about new developments in their fields (at least I hope they do). Why not parents too?

song: Learning to Fly • artist: Tom Petty

She's Got a Way

In honor of mothers day here's to all the mothers out there who aren't afraid to jump in and help out without being asked. You women rock. Whether it's a child who's calling for her dad to help her off the wooden train at the playground ("is it okay if I help you?") to the mom who picks up the crying twin that's waiting pitifully in the swing while his brother gets strapped into the stroller ahead of him. Perhaps you aren't the mother of twins (heaven forbid you said in your own words), but you obviously have talents to share that are far beyond my own. I am never at ease around other children, no matter how many of my own I seem to accumulate. Instead of at-ease mom, I feel more like deer-in-the-headlights mom. Two weekends back I did help a birthday boy who was in his birthday suit struggling with his swim trunks but only after watching his unsuccessful attempts for some time and wondering, should I or shouldn't I.
I have seen women in action who are natural-born mothers. A real mother's mother. They are the women who always have Kleenex in their pockets and juice boxes in their car (enough to share). They speak to my children with enthusiasm I can barely muster. They jump in and pass out supplies and clip boards during story time. They volunteer for the PTO and know how to French braid. They can throw a baseball. They can strike up conversation effortlessly with other mothers - I overhear them and think they must be high school friends until the end of the conversation when they formally introduce themselves to each other. They will remember each other's names next time they meet - and the names of one another's children.
They can parallel park their mini vans.
Happy Mothers Day to all the moms who can mother anyone's children. My hat's off to all of you, which is a big compliment since I rarely take off my hat.

song: She's Got a Way • artist: Billy Joel

Gimme Gimme Gimme

The Tao of my Twins: Lesson 4

If I have two hands, I must have two crackers.

song: Gimme Gimme Gimme • artist: Abba

Who'll Stop the Rain?

Another day of doing the same chores I do every day in a futile attempt to keep up with things and then foolishly thinking that another load of laundry or emptying out the dishwasher one more time before bed will make a difference.
Are you aware that it has rained every day since May 1st?
I don't remember that in any of those descriptive kid poems about spring.
March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.
April showers bring May flowers.
May rain drives everyone insane.

song: Who'll Stop the Rain? • artist: Creedence Clearwater Revival

Little Bird, Little Bird

It's weird and unsettling to read about the potential demise of the Boston Globe - in the Boston Globe. It must be weirder still to work for the paper and have to report on it. Like having to describe your own injuries from the field of battle
It would pain me to see the paper fold even though over the past years they've eliminated many of the columnist and features that I enjoyed most.
If I might make a suggestion to the Globe I would advise them to expand their area of redelivery. If you miss an Enterprise delivery, or get a wet paper, or the neighbor's dog chews it up, whatever, we'll bring you another one. Whenever I call in a missed delivery to the Globe, it's not at all satisfying to hear that recorded voice on the end of the line saying he's sorry and our account will be credited. I don't want credit - I want my paper. I want my driver, the same guy who delivers my Cape Cod Times (which inexplicably gets delivered, why one and not the other?), to get back down my road pronto and bring me a paper. Why can't he just go buy one at the W. Falmouth Market and have the Globe credit his account.
Now, on days when we don't get a paper (like today), I just assume the paper has finally bled out and folded.
The baby birds in our window box nest didn't make it. I've been too depressed to write anything since it happened. I shouldn't be that surprised, the reality is that nature is pretty harsh. I don't know what happened. Ken thinks something must have got the mother bird.
I was glad my kids weren't home. I buried all the chicks in the garden and then had a good cry about it. If the mother bird is still out there somewhere I just want her to know I took care of them. When Ken came home he emptied the window box and cleaned out the nest and the brown Christmas tree branches. I was glad he did because I kept automatically looking to the right every time I went out the door to get a glimpse of the mother bird. It's amazing how quickly we acclimate to something or someone and it becomes part of our routine.

song: Little Bird, Little Bird • musical: Man of La Mancha

Close To You

Normally I'm a big fan of velcro. It's made lots of things in my life easier, and provided lots of entertainment to viewers of David Letterman. It does have its dark side however, which is its inability to discern between the things it should and should not stick to.
Today I took a stinky diaper off N, wrapped it, and set it aside. The velcro tab on the diaper grabbed my sweater as I was reaching across the changing table for a diaper wipe. The dirty diaper began creeping towards me like Ash's possessed hand in Evil Dead II. The faster I pulled, the faster it followed. I tried to shake it loose. It wouldn't go. I couldn't grab it with my other hand because I couldn't let go of the baby. Damn, I thought, what if N kicks it and goes heel-deep into poop? Luckily he kicked, hit the diaper but missed the poop, and freed me from the tab.
I know I should have deposited the dirty diaper directly into the trash can - why didn't I do that, I wondered irritatedly. It's like all those James Bond movies. Bond always lives because the bad guys never just shoot him - they always capture him and then try to set him up for some kind of slow, agonizing-yet-clever death. Bond always escapes. Why don't they just shoot him? "Just shoot him!" I want to yell at the screen.
Dumb criminals and mothers. They never learn.

song: Close To You • artist: The Carpenters

We Built This City

They are demolishing the ideal spot. The Ideal Spot Motel that is. They are going to build condos there; right next to the condos they built out of the Caleb O. Hamblin House a few years back. Some of those units are still for sale.
I can't understand why the town gave the West Falmouth Market a hard time over their plans to expand their business and put apartment units on top of the store when that entire corner of Route 28A is in the process of being turned into condominiums.
Maybe it's because people might actually move into the apartments.
And speaking of building, what's the story with that house next to the Tin Man Diner? They built the house over the course of three weeks last winter when I was sequestered inside with the twins. Fifteen months later and they still can't get any landscaping in?

song: We Built This City • artist: Jefferson Starship

You Are So Beautiful

The eggs in the windowbox nest hatched.
The chicks are all bald and bug eyed.
But because I'm a mother too, I told the wren her babies were beautiful.
And I really think that they are.

song: You Are So Beautiful • artist: Joe Cocker

You Creep Me Out

The ants are back and infesting the dining room. There are ticks all over the back yard. I have this mounting paranoia that something is crawling on me.
This must be what I get for insulting Spring.

song: You Creep Me Out • artist: Apple Betty

I Wonder What Would Happen to this World

10 songs for Earth Day

1. This Land is Your Land - Woodie Guthrie
2. Where Do the Children Play - Cat Stevens
3. I Love Trash - Oscar the Grouch
4. Hammer and a Nail - Indigo Girls
5. Mother Nature's Son - the Beatles
6. Mother Earth - Tom Rush
7. Garden Song - David Mallett
8. The Last Resort - The Eagles
9. I'm Gonna Be (500 Miles) - The Proclaimers
10 I Wonder What Would Happen to this World - Harry Chapin
bonus track: That song by Eric Harris Kerns about the woman who gets killed by toxic sludge. Darn! I can't remember its name.

song: I Wonder What Would Happen to this World • artist: Harry Chapin

a poem for earth day

In order to write this poem
I made ink from crushed berries
that grew naturally in my yard.
My writing utensil is a stylus
of bamboo
grown in a sustainable forest
and whittled to a point using an arrowhead.
The paper was made from recycled pizza boxes
collected from our locally-owned pizza shop.
The one that buys its toppings from local farmers
and sponsors their own little league team.
And even though it was overcast,
I sat by the window
and let the natural light shine through
to avoid switching on the lamp.
When I was finally ready to begin the poem
I realized
I had forgotten
what I wanted to say.

Dirty Old Town

Did you know that John Todd has an Earth Day Birthday?
I can't think of anything more appropriate.
The local radio station has been airing helpful Earth Day suggestions like "don't forget those reusable cloth bags," and "pick up plastic off the beaches."
Didn't we solve the paper vs plastic debate 20 years ago? About the time we all started cutting up the plastic rings on our beer six packs? Let's stop talking about reusable bags and changing light bulbs. Let's talk about nitrogen overloading, where our septic really goes, cheap coal, and our obsession with grass (the kind you walk on, not the kind you smoke).
C's suggestion for Earth Day is that everyone wear the same clothes two days in a row without washing them.
Now there's a suggestion I can get behind.
Of course I already do that.

song: Dirty Old Town • artist: Ewan MacColl

On The Radio

On the weekends, Sirius Radio plays the Top 40 Countdown on both the Big 80s and the 70s on 7 stations.
It sure plays through a lot faster without the commercials. Remember how Casey Kasem used to announce an upcoming song, air a commercial, come back with the lead in to the long-distance dedication, and then play another commercial? Good thing that was all back in the day when I had lots of time on my hands. Enough to wait around to find out that Wham had the number one song in the nation for the 6th week in a row.
Listening to the countdown has led to the realization that in addition to all the bad music from the 80s that I do remember, there's even more that (thankfully) I have forgotten.
In my opinion, Sirius should update the countdown. Throw in a few "where are they now" segments. What is Matthew Wilder (Break My Stride) doing now? Or Corey Hart (Sunglasses at Night)? Better yet, what about all those long distance dedications? How did they all turn out? Did Alex, the "wandering minstrel," hear his long distance dedication, "Guitar Man" from Kim? Did Wanda from Montana decide to become "more than just friends" with Jack after hearing his "I Wanna Know What Love Is" dedication?
Is it "Against all Odds" or "Love Stinks"?
And have you noticed how all 80s hits sound like children's music? Elmer Fudd (aka David Bowie) singing "Let's Dance," "Mr. Roboto," "She Blinded Me With Science," "Rock Me Amadeus," "Rock Lobster." Big 80s is station #2 on my dial, next to Kids Place Live. The other day I got the two confused. Convinced I was listening to Big 80s, I read the title, "Aliens in My Head," and thought, must be something by Devo.

song: On The Radio • artist: Donna Summer

some more poems

some more poems in honor of National Poetry Month

candles (by H)
You can make them.
You can blow them out.
You don't really have to throw them.

deer (by C)
Deer don't drink beer.
They don't even have a tear.
I saw a deer in Virginia
and it had some beer.
And it had a tear.

two red pens (by Mommy)
one for right
one for wrong
jostle for position
in the desk

Trees (a poem by H)

Trees grow.
Some people knock them down.
Some of them are little.
Some of them are big.
Some go away and never come back.
But you can grow one with a seed.

I Got You Babe

People are making excuses for spring again.
"At least it's sunny." I've already heard twice today, which is pretty good for someone who hasn't left the house except to go to the bus stop.
It can be sunny anytime. It can be sunny in January. I don't care about sunny. I care about warm.
Sunny without warm is like eggs without bacon, like Sonny without Cher, like pork chops without apple sauce, like high definition tv without a 60-inch screen, like Britney Spears without something stupid to say.
At least it's sunny is like sitting in your tricked-out, candy-apple red, brand-new sports car - with four flat tires.

song: I Got You Babe • artist: Sonny and Cher

I'll Fly Away

The nest in our window box now has eggs in it. I don't know how many but C's been keeping a pretty good tab.
Normally in this situation I would try and use the back door so as not to continually disturb the bird but it's next to impossible with the twins. Whenever I go anywhere with them it's at least three trips back and forth to the car to get everyone in and that's assuming I get into the car and can find my keys or haven't forgotten anything. If you count trips that include C (bang!) and H (bang!) that's a total of five trips minimum.
I feel guilty that all my children are putting her future children in peril.
I thought Rufus would sit by the door and watch her but there's not much to see. Either the bird is in the nest or waiting in the holly bush for us to leave so she can get back on the nest. Instead I find myself standing by the front door peeking out at her.
At most the next is three feet from the front door and I'm afraid that if we swing the door wide open in the middle of the night she's going to fly right in the house (it's happened before), and that wouldn't be good for anyone.
Usually when I try to watch her on her nest she sees me, gives me the bird equivalent of the hairy eyeball, and flies off, but sometimes she doesn't notice me and stays.
I wonder what she's thinking about while she sits there. Probably the same things all mothers think:
"I wonder if we've built this nest in a good school district?"
"All I ever do is sit on this nest. I gotta get out more. What am I doing with my life? I'm not a chick anymore."
And finally:
"I wonder if I will have any marketable job skills left when these eggs finally fledge?"

song: I'll Fly Away • artist: Albert E. Brumley

I Melt With You

What's worse than kleenex in the washing machine?
Easter chocolates!
What's worse than dried out Play-Doh?
Moldy Play-Doh!
Today, after bringing in the laundry from the clothes line, I made my kids ants on a log for an afterschool snack.
I'm 50s mom!

song: I Melt With You • artist: Modern English

Roll to Me

What to do with those leftover eggs.

song: Roll to Me • artist: Del Amitri

You Send Me

The Easter gifts I ordered for the kids didn't arrive on time because they were sent by the USPS and the post office is broke, despite all those Pottery Barn catalogues, so they've laid off workers and consequently my kids have no Easter presents. So I had to run down to Uncle Bill's Country Store after Ken got home from work last night, while the kids were zoned out in front of Happy Feet waiting for some mild peril and rude humor.
Let me just say, in an unabashed plug for Uncle Bill's, it's a great little shop. Not only do they have all manner of gifts, especially stuff with which to fill last minute Easter baskets, it's a) right down the street, and, b)open late because it's attached to the Silver Lounge Restaurant.
I put money in the eggs we hid in the yard. There isn't much that fits into those eggs. You can either put in candy, let them rot their teeth and sanction gluttony, or, you can put in money, let them become materialistic and sanction greed. Choose your deadly sin.
At our house we don't talk up the Easter Bunny much. It's enough to keep up with the Santa hoax. Because there's no big Easter Bunny build up, I think the kids are on to the whole thing. H told Ken's parents that "Mommy did a treasure hunt," and C was suspicious when I told him there was still one egg left to find in the yard.
"How do you know how many eggs the Easter bunny left?" he said, suggesting next time the Easter bunny ought to leave a note.
I thought about this.
"Dear C. Hope you find your 10 Easter eggs. Love E.B.
E.B? Do you know what that means?
It means that Esther Buchanan is the Easter bunny!
Given that revelation, maybe she'll come over and help me get rid of all these hard boiled eggs.

song: You Send Me • artist: Sam Cooke

Rainy Days and Mondays

In spending a rainy Saturday in the house with all my children, I am trying to use all the techniques of parenting class to be an "effective" parent. But I feel more like the "affected" parent.
Maybe even an "afflicted" parent.

song: Rainy Days and Mondays • artist: The Carpenters

Everyday

Today I checked out "Happy Feet" from the library.
You know, the penguin movie, not the podiatrist promotion.
It's rated PG!
Wouldn't you assume a movie about a dancing penguin would be G rated?
I did.
You know what they say about assuming things though.
The parental guidance box says I should watch out for "some mild peril and rude humor. That pretty much describes an ordinary day around here.

song: Everyday • artist: Buddy Holly

Reunited

Another disappointingly cold spring day. It was a four baby blanket night. That's baby blankets on top of me while I'm watching tv. I don't remember how many I dumped on top of the actual babies. You're probably thinking, "well at least it was sunny," but that's because your expectations are so low - if it's not raining then it's a pretty good day. The only thing good about Monday was that after loading the twins into the van in the pouring (and I mean pouring) rain to go to preschool pick up, the song playing on Sirrus when I turned the car on was Prince's Purple Rain.
Spring on Cape Cod is like a bad boyfriend. You keep breaking up with him and saying, "never again," and then in March he comes around again. "I've changed," he promises, "please take me back."
So you think that this time he'll be different and you look into his green eyes and you say, "okay."
And when you do take him back, you can't tell any of your friends. "I'm believing in spring again," you'd say while they all shake their heads slowly at you, looks of concern and disappoint spreading over their features.
As soon as you let him in the door though it starts all over again. Slumping on the couch. Never leaving the house. Refusing to go places with you. Giving you the cold shoulder.
Sure, there are a few good days. Days when he's sunny and warm and brings you flowers. But for the most part he's not living up to his end of the bargain.
So you break it off again and he takes it pretty well but as he's leaving he turns, and in his best Arnold impersonation tells you, "I'll be back."

song: Reunited • artist: Peaches and Herb

You're No Good

My favorite after dinner snacks are cereal, ice cream, and wine.
None of these taste good together.

song: You're No Good • artist: Linda Ronstadt

Higher Ground

We attended an Easter egg hunt over the weekend.
It was a well-organized event, run by some nice (and very brave) parents - with an awesome backyard. They herded the little kids to one end of the yard so they would have a fighting chance at 1:20 when the hunt began.
C said he overheard the adults saying that they'd hidden 800 eggs. "Hidden" being a relative term. When the big kids came through (at approximately 1:22) it was like those swarms of grasshoppers I'd heard about during the dust bowl that would sweep across the plains and through farmers' fields devouring every living thing in sight. Those kids picked the woods clean. Not an egg left in sight except for a few that had been opened, had their candy extracted, and then been cast aside like a once favorite toy, now forgotten in the rush of Christmas morning.
Still, I liked it better than pinata bashing.

song: Higher Ground • artist: Stevie Wonder

Love the One You're With

I think I'm in love.
I don't even know his first name but I find myself curled up on the couch with him almost every night.
Ken has no idea.
He's handsome, good with kids, has a great sense of humor. What more could a mostly-stay-at-home mom want?
I admit it. I'm in love with the dad from the Henry and Mudge series.
But honestly. Who wouldn't me?
He brings his guitar on camping trips and sings Elvis.
He mows the lawn.
He reads newspapers.
He drinks tea.
He gets dressed up on valentine's day and takes his wife out dancing.
He spends weekends in his basement building cardboard castles with his son.
He never seems to have to go to work so I assume he's independently wealthy - at least there's no book titled, Henry and Mudge and Daddy's Mind-Numbing Job. On the other hand there's no book titled, Henry and Mudge and Daddy's big Inheritance either
I know what your thinking - what about Henry's mom? Sure she's cute and perky, hangs around the house barefoot and likes to wear dresses. In another life maybe we could have been friends.
I can tell there's trouble between them though, how else to explain why Henry doesn't have any younger siblings?
Besides, I can read between the lines. In the book where Mudge goes to obedience school, I know she was having an affair with Jack the dog trainer.
Oh, and after the divorce - Mudge will have to live with the mother. Henry will get over it. Kids are resilient.
It's worth nothing that the Henry and Mudge series was written by a woman. Only a woman could create the perfect man.

song: Love the One You're With • artist: Crosby, Stills, Nash & Young

Won't Get Fooled Again

C announced proudly that he'd "fooled" most of his friends Thursday with the old April Fool's Day, did-you-hear-about-that-big-snow-storm-we're-getting? joke.
Of course you got them - it was April 2, why would they be expecting more April Fool's Day jokes?
I always fall for April Fool's Day jokes. They used to air coverage of a "parade" on April 1 on WZLX - maybe they still do. I was a sophomore when I realized it was a joke, I'd totally bought it freshman year.
Last year I was fooled by a spoof issue of the newspaper the local sixth graders put out. The first article I read was about how the toy store on Main Street was going to sell nothing but Barbie merchandise. "What? Nothing but Barbie?" I thought to myself. Where will I buy presents for all the boy birthday parties my kids are going to be invited to for the next decade? I was all broken out in a cold sweat before realizing it was a joke.
I guess it's because adults aren't used to being fooled (except by ads for miracle weight-loss shakes), while for kids - anything is still possible and everything is still questionable.

song: Won't Get Fooled Again • artist: The Who

the hunt (a couplet)

Colorful eggs
for the fastest legs.

Funny Girl

Forgot to mention Ken's contribution to April Fools Day.
He glued quarters to our front step.
Of course he got credit for all the gags this morning.
C couldn't seem to fathom that Mommy could be funny.
Doesn't he know that a sense of humor is paramount to parenting?
Damn.

song: Funny Girl • Artist: Barbara Streisand

Everybody Plays the Fool

Tomorrow is April Fool's Day. The pressure is on. I've sewed his pant legs together, hidden plastic bugs in his lunch box, and switched out the Honey Nut Cheerios for dry cat food.
I was thinking of putting plastic wrap on the toilet but why set myself up for something I'll just have to clean?
On another bright note, I heard the peepers for the first time tonight!
Finally spring!

song: Everybody Plays the Fool • artist: The Main Ingredient

Rockin Robin

It happened again. I waited too long to take the Christmas greens out of the window boxes and a bird has built a nest in them.
It's the box closest to the house so it will give my indoor cat something to look at.
The cat has had a pretty good March. Earlier in the month I expanded her wet cat food varieties. I've been buying the brand Before Grain (B.G). It's 100% of whatever it is, be it chicken, or beef. This time I purchased 100% turkey as well as 100% quail. Mmmm quail. You know what they say - it's all about choice.
They don't make what my cat really wants though: 100% chipmunk, 100% Carolina Wren, or the vegetarian entree - 100% spider plant.

song: Rockin Robin Bobby Day

Sweet Dreams II

A very good day.
They look like bear cubs!

song: Sweet Dreams • artist: the Eurythmics

Sweet Dreams

A very good lunch.

song: Sweet Dreams • artist: the Eurythmics

Closing Time

C wrote a note to H, "I love you, H," it said. It was signed, "love and from C."
Love and from? It seemed redundant, but then I decided it was brilliant.
We (or at least I) spend a lot of time looking for just the right word. Especially when it comes to a closing. I never know how to close an e-mail. "Sincerely" sounds too formal. "Have a good one" too informal. "Ciao" too European for a townie like myself. Sometimes I evoke the weather as with the hopeful, "think spring!" but usually I go with "many thanks" which I consider to be friendly yet professional. Letters are less of a problem. If I'm taking the time to put pen to paper, chances are you rate a "love, Joanne," at the end of the missive.
Kids have no such concerns. Why limit yourself, or agonize over, one perfect word? Use more than one. Use as many as you need - conventional letter-writting etiquette be damned. C could have written, "love, from, miss you, and have a nice day." Frankly, all of which sound more satisfying than "many thanks."

song: Closing Time • artist: Lyle Lovett

Never Tear Us Apart

For the love of Pete - they can put a rover on Mars, why can't they make the lining in a bag of cereal in such a way that it's possible to tear it easily and symmetrically instead of an uneven jagged tear that results in cereal being spilled all over the counter?
How about it all yea masters of engineering? Stop working on improvements to shopping carts to fix the inevitable loose wheel that spins counter clockwise from all the others and get to work on this.
And make that two Mars rovers - so step it up.

song: Never Tear Us Apart • artist: INXS

Horse with No Name

C went to a birthday party yesterday and came home with one of the hollow legs off the donkey-shaped pinata.
Tonight he had it on his arm and was gimping around the house on all fours like an extra in the land-of-play scene from a theatrical revival of Pinocchio.
"I'm turning into a donkey!" he mused.
"No you're not," said H. "You're turning into a pinata."

song: Horse with No Name • artist: America

Train in the Distance

Dear Liz,
Holy cr*p. I have already changed three dirty diapers this morning including one that necessitated an impromptu baby bath and a change of mommy's sweater (it probably needed a good washing anyway).
You'd better not call me to say you missed that train!

song: Train in the Distance • artist: Paul Simon

The Fool on the Hill

Today is St. Patrick's Day, if you are of that ethnic persuasion, or just like to drink green beer and sing the unicorn song in crowded bars.
As an English, Italian, French Canadian, St. Patrick's Day doesn't mean much to me. For me the more important revelation is that there are only 14 more days until April Fool's Day.
Now there's a real holiday.

song: The Fool on the Hill • artist: The Beatles

The Bit*h is Back

The other day I came across the word "termagant" in the biography of Piet Mondrian. He wasn't a termagant, someone in his circle of theological acquaintances was. Mondrian couldn't have been a termagant because by definition (I looked it up) a termagant is a quarrelsome, scolding woman; shrew.
"Gee." I thought. "This sounds a lot like the definition of the word harridan." So I looked that one up. Harridan - (noun) - a vicious, scolding woman; a shrew.
What the heck, I looked up shrew. Shrew - (noun) - a woman with a violent, scolding or nagging temperament.
I don't want to implement Orwell's Newspeak - but do we need all these words that mean the same thing?
And if we do, in all fairness, where are all the words that mean "a scolding, quarrelsome, nagging man?"

song: The Bit*h is Back • artist: Elton John

How Much is that Doggie in the Window?

OMG Tina - Angus is so cute!
I seriously wanted to name one of the twins Angus!
I love that name!
Who would mess with a kid named Angus?
Ken vetoed it.
Guess they'll have to deflect bullies using merely their wits instead of relying on their tough, manly names.
Maybe I should have named one of them Sue.

song: How Much is that Doggie in the Window? • artist: Bob Merrill

Come on See The Show

So it's okay for him to figure skating in the ice show - but it's not okay for his mom to give him a kiss on the cheek for good luck?
Actually there's a lot to be said for male figure skating. For one thing, the show costumes are a lot warmer. Black skates don't have to be polished - and wearing sweatshirts between numbers is okay because you don't have to worry about messing up your hair taking them off over your head.
I've been averaging two cups of mood enhancing tea per day instead of the recommended four to six. Does that mean I'm only half as happy as I could be?

song: Come on See The Show • artist: Emerson, Lake, and Palmer

YMCA

C told me they played a "really boring" game in P.E. yesterday.
"They played this music and you had to make the letters Y M C A with your arms."
And you thought the worst thing your kids might learn in the public school was sex ed.

song; YMCA • artist: The Village People

Goin' Out Of My Head

Kids never seem to know what they want do they? Or maybe it's that they're never happy with what they have - in which case they are just like grown ups.
Recently C was in the living room complaining - loudly - that he couldn't hear his story on CD because H was being too noisy. I managed to redirect H and get him interested in playing indoor basketball. The next thing I knew C was complaining - loudly - that H wouldn't let him play basketball.
Another day C got mad that I wasn't putting applesauce in his lunch box like I was for Henry. You see, applesauce is a acceptable in his lunch because it isn't pink. So I included one with Tuesday's peanut butter and Nutella sandwich - he didn't eat it.
Finally, on another day H was lining up his match box cars on the living room rug. and got mad at the twins because they kept trying to pick them up. I put N & S in their Pack 'n Play along with their noisy farm toy and go off to make dinner. Next time I check on them H is in the Pack 'n Play with his brothers and, of course, I want to yell, "what's wrong with you? Can't you see that I moved your brothers for your benefit? So they wouldn't mess up your things? Get out of there and go back to playing with your cars dammit!"
But I'm taking Effective Parenting classes now so instead I yelled, "what's wrong with you? Can't you see that I moved your brothers for your benefit? So they wouldn't mess up your things? Get out of there and go back to playing with your cars dammit!"

song: Goin' Out Of My Head • artist: Little Anthony and The Imperials

Time in a Bottle

On Sunday C and H buried a time capsule in the back yard. The capsule was a peanut butter jar filled with a variety of random objects and a note that read, "this is a vere old note from the 2 hundridits."
Two days later, on Tuesday, they dug up the capsule and marveled at how no dirt had gotten inside.
Considering our current penchant for instant messaging, instant gratification, and instant oatmeal, they should be commending for waiting as long as they did.

song: Time in a Bottle • artist: Jim Croce

Pink Cadillac

My son can no longer have strawberry yogurt in his lunch box. The other boys make fun of him, "because it's pink."
"What if it was pink pureed raw meat yogurt?" I suggested.
"Nope."
"What if it were orange peach yogurt?"
"Okay."

song: Pink Cadillac • artist: Bruce Springsteen

Relax

Here are some ways that I deal with feelings of total frustration brought on by my children in situations, like the car, where I can't physically get away from them. I either a) whisper "shut up, shut up!" under my breath; b) think about my friend Tom and about how he thought I would be a great mom and resolve not to let him down; c) think about my equally encouraging friend Pam and resolve not to let her down, or d) think about what a great story the incident will make at Effective Parenting Class, and remarkably, one of these usually does the trick.
I now have a new weapon in my arsenal - St John's Wort Caffeine-Free Herbal Tea, purported to encourage a positive mood and purchased mainly because a glass of wine at 10AM is generally frowned upon.
My maximum potential for achieving a "positive mood" through consumption of a non-alcoholic beverage will be reached if I "drink 4-6 cups daily between meals for at least 4 weeks."
If I had the time for four or five cups of tea per day, I think I'd already be in a pretty good mood.

song: Relax • artist: Frankie Goes To Hollywood

Time of Your Life

Hey! My watch is telling the right time again!

song: Time of Your Life • artist: Green Day

Someone to Watch Over Me

Last summer, by happenstance, I read the super-hero graphic novel that's opening today as a movie.
Even though I won't be seeing the movie until its release on DVD (in what? two, maybe three weeks?) I'm still feeling unusually relevant.

song: Someone to Watch Over Me • artist: George Gershwin

Man in the Mirror

Speaking of Michael Jackson, on Sunday I heard "Man in the Mirror" played three times on Sirius radio - two different stations.
The first time I thought, "hey, cool, I haven't heard that song in a long time." I even went as far as thinking it was a pretty deep tune for a Michael Jackson number.
The second time I thought, "that's weird."
The third time I knew that the fates were trying to tell me something - that I'd better, "make that change."
Micheal changed his nose, cheekbones, and the color of his skin.
I wonder where I should start.

song: Man in the Mirror • artist: Michael Jackson

Dangerous

C has been assessing his career options. He's "interested" in space but doesn't want to be an astronaut because that's "too dangerous." He thinks being a plumber might be good, and mentioned once that he'd like to be a receptionist because then he could sit down all day.
Then there's his back-up plan which is to be a baseball player.
He friend Will is planning to be a fireman and C wants to talk him out of it because, that's "too dangerous." Likewise he plans to have a heart to heart with Anthony, who wants to be a policeman.
H left his lunch box at preschool yesterday. My best efforts to assure him it would be okay there until Monday did not go over well so, after we met C at the bus stop I told him to hop in the mini van because we have to go back to North Falmouth and retrieve it.
Instead C suggested that he walk home himself and wait for us there.
Sorry Buddy, that's "too dangerous."

song: Dangerous • artist: Michael Jackson

Big Ten Inch II

School was cancelled today. Preschool too.
I was trapped like a rat in my own home.
Like a rat with a lot of children.
And no peanut butter.
Here's H giving me his breakfast order:
"Honey Nut Cheerios, milk, banana, orange juice, and a vitamin."
C: "What'd he say?"
Mommy: "He said he wants Honey Nut Cheerios, milk, banana, orange juice, and a vitamin."
C: "Oh. I thought he said, 'and Spider-Man.' "
Mommy: "Spider-Man? Well that's just ridiculous."

song: Big Ten Inch • artist: Aerosmith

I Will Survive

Major snow storm today. Or maybe not.
Up to 15 inches. Or maybe not.
Predictions of snowfall always bring out my hoarding instincts. OMG, it might snow! We have no peanut butter in the house! How will we survive a day, one whole day, 24 hours, maybe more (gasp!) without peanut butter? And look at this, we only have an open half-gallon of milk in the fridge. And ham! where's the ham?
Ken assures me that he has four-wheel drive and consequently will be able to make it to the store. I knew there was a reason we kept that truck. Thank heaves because I'm quite sure we'll be down to eating shoe leather by the time he gets home from work.

song: I Will Survive • artist: Gloria Gaynor