It snot all bad

There is nothing more disgusting than other people's snot.  As a mother who stays home with her kids all day, every day I find myself surrounded by it...constantly.  Usually at least one of my kids has a runny nose, but lately, they both have been streaming from the nostrils.  There are tissues everywhere, fresh ones, wadded-up ones, dried and yellow ones.  Have I said enough to make you gag?  No? Well then I'll keep going!

My oldest, Noah, has finally learned to use (and dispose of) a tissue on his own, most of the time. He may not take care of the deed as artfully as his mom would, but I am happy nonetheless to remove myself from that job.  

Charlie on the other hand would rather have the ewwy, gooey stuff running down his face and then wipe it through his hair (that includes eyelashes, eyebrows and the brown mop of curls on his head), than have anyone come near him with a tissue.  Why are babies like that?  What is the big deal with having your nose wiped?  I mean, seriously, yuck.

(Note to readers: I could post a picture here related to the topic at hand, but I will spare you the "juicy" details!)

And then there is the debris that gets dragged along for the ride.  Charlie is on the floor, in the yard, eating his food, and playing with the animals; and it is all completely apparent by the evidence stuck to and dried on his face. A face only a mother can love would be that of a 1 year-0ld with cat fur, grass, and chocolate-chip cookie crumbs stuck to his snot-encrusted upper lip. (Again, I will spare you the pictures, although I do have them for future use.)

So to end, things with the family are good, if not a little sticky. I could be writing about the number of tantrums and timeouts that we had this past week. I could be writing about the untold number of dishes, bottles, diapers and dog-piles I had my hands in this week. But all in all, this was a very good week. See?  It snot all bad :)

The Kite Chronicles

There's nothing like a hot summer day...in April.  Living in the northeast we don't get a lot of 90 degree days, at least not until July and August.  And by then, we're pretty sick and tired of the humidity. So last week when we were all sweetly surprised by the very early arrival of some much-needed warm weather, I decided to pack up the family and head to the beach.

Last summer we had some success with kite-flying.  It was my older son Noah's first attempt to fly a kite and he really enjoyed it.  But he was only 2 and it was our first time so I bought some cheap crappy kite that lasted about 1 week.  

This time I wanted a kite that would last more than a couple of days. So to begin our "Summer in the middle of April" we planned for our first stop to be a toy store. Now that never usually goes well when the kids are in tow. They want to play with everything and get upset at the toy you actually buy them, and by the time you are exiting the store, usually one of the kids (or parents) is crying.  

On this particular day, and in this particular toy store, we hit gold!  This place was awesome! Not only did it have some pretty awesome kites (we bought a pirate and crossbones kite), but it had every toy the kids could imagine, plus the ones that I remember from my childhood. I think my husband and I had more fun than the kids (maybe a slight exaggeration, but we were digging this place).

While the boys were playing with trains (of course), I wandered over to the "pink" part of the store. Oh my god, the dolls, the dollhouses, the dress-up costumes, the Hello Kitty purses and lipsticks...I was drooling.  I spent a good 10 minutes looking at the little toy mouses in the 3-story colonial doll-house.  All the mouse-sized furniture, place settings, clothes, and accessories.  I could have played, I mean stayed there all day.  I think hubby was getting worried.  All the girl toys were definitely wreaking havoc with my ovaries. I started thinking about how great it would be to have one more baby, and to have that baby be a girl.  If only my powers for planning and organizing could guarantee that outcome.  Hmmm...something to think about. 

But I digress. So we picked out our kite and went on our way.  We stopped to have lunch at this great restaurant with outdoor seating.  The best part was that we were on the edge of the patio so Noah could play out on the grass while we waited for lunch to be served.  My younger son, Charlie, played frisbee with the plates and shattered one on the brick patio.  Oops, sorry nice restaurant, but that's bound to happen when you let kids in.

After lunch (awesome salads!) we headed to the beach.  For some reason I thought I would be the only person with the brilliant idea to go to the beach.  Wrong.  There were about 1000 people there.  Most were actually in their bathing suits doing their best to get their first sun-burns of the season.  And for the crazy fools who jumped in the water...Idiots!  People, the water temperature in the Northern Atlantic in April is 48 degrees.  That's feaking cold!  

Charlie and I settled onto our blanket in the sand. Alan and Noah took their shirts off and went to work getting the kite in the air.  Or I should say that Alan went to work.  Noah went running.  It's what he does; he runs.  And runs. And runs. And runs.  He is our own Forrest Gump!

I got a kick out of watching Alan try to get that kite in the air. It just wasn't working. I assumed I could do it better, but I couldn't (I know, even I was shocked!)  I have to give him credit though, despite the fact that his man-hood was being tested (nothing like trying, and failing, to get a little kid's pirate kite in the sky), Alan would not give up.  He was determined to get this kite in the air for Noah. And after a long while (maybe 20 minutes or so) he finally got it.  Off it flew.  Noah was pretty pumped; so was Alan.  It was a cute moment. A dad and his son flying a kite.

This is what summer is all about.  Even if it is only April.