"I'm the mini-Mommy."

Mina is only 7, but she's unilaterally decided she is in charge.  As she puts it, she is "second in command." 

Part of this is my fault, as I taught her that expression.

I only meant to use it with respect to Oscar .. our dog. She was upset because Oscar wouldn't run out for a walk with her unless I nodded at him and said, "Oscar, walk."

 I  explained the pack mentality to her, i.e. why Oscar only  listened to me.

Me:  "It's because I'm the alpha dog, you see?  So when I tell him it's time for a walk, or car ride or sit, he listens."

Mina:  "I want to be the alpha dog!"

Me:  "There can only be one in a pack.  Maybe you can be second in command."

She walked away, satisfied.

Slowly but surely, however, she's staging a mutiny.




Exhibit A: Mina's plan to thwart "quiet time." Jordan becomes the fall guy.

Lisen[sic] Jordan here is the plan
You open your door quietly
You peek out if mom is soundlees[sic]
you tiptoe to my room slide the response to me and I
send back
Love: Mina
P.S. if she is there you wait until she (mom) is gone.

It's been suggested I frame this note for posterity. 

When I confronted her about it, she denied everything, despite her very obvious signature.  Jordan laughed maniacally; and claimed he ignored it and sat very quietly in his room reading during the appointed hour.

We are in trouble.

I'm so sad the kids are back to school....

hahahahaha!



Monday marked the return to normalcy in our household. I for one, am breathing a hearty sigh of relief. In the hopes of starting the new school year right, we tried to get ourselves organized in the preceeding weeks.

Yeah. That went well.

Day One:

Jeff wakes up at the crack of dawn. Oscar, sensing food must be coming, leaps up and starts tippy tapping his doggie nails across the hardwood floor of our bedroom. I curse Overstock.com for failing to get all our bedroom rugs and furniture together so I can have everything sent via container to Bermuda.

I get up a few minutes later and get "dressed." I go downstairs for water.

Jordan is already up, dressed in his uniform and is sitting at the kitchen counter discussing how soon he will be allowed to play Minecraft. His hair is sticking straight up, thus confirming he paid no attention to me during the conversations we had regarding grooming.

Mina wakes up shortly thereafter, dresses herself and as I get ready to braid her hair, she sits down for a lengthy discussion of the dream she had the night before.. "You know, mom.. the one about my dad - the vampire."

She goes downstairs and joins Jordan for breakfast. He ignores the banana crumb muffins I so lovingly baked the night before.

Both kids kill time by practicing piano and complaining about the electronics ban.

I walk Oscar, pack lunchboxes, fill water bottles, then sit down for my coffee and emails. I realize I have forgotten to pack an "art smock" for Mina.

Commence search for suitable smock as the clock keeps ticking. I scramble for rags under the kitchen sink and settle on a lovely orange Brooklyn Brewery t-shirt, circa 1995, that I never quite got around to ripping up.

Thrilled with myself for not throwing anything out!

Hoarders unite!

As I round up kids to get in car, Jordan informs me his shoes are too tight.

"But we tried the shoes on last week, and you said they fit just fine!"

"No, Mommeeee... they're too tight!"

I grind my teeth together and inform him he will have to suck it up till we have time to buy more shoes.

He frowns.

I send them outside for commemorative first day back to school picture.

He makes many nasty faces at me.

I force them to stand outside in Bermuda humidity till I get one fake happy look.

We go upstairs to car, and I take more pictures.

Suddenly it dawns on me that we are almost out of the house, and I begin smiling uncontrollably.

As we drive down the road, for the 5 minute car ride (YES!!! One Stop this year!!)I grin at every person walking, stumbling, riding down the street.

Yeah you, Mr. "shopping at Serpentine Liquors at 8 am in the morning!" High five! I'll get the next round!



Welcome to the most wonderful time of the year!

"You'll always be there to keep me company, Mina."

Jordan said.

File under: moments that take my breath away.

School Christmas Parties 2010

Both kids had their parties today; and I made the rounds. Different times, of course. But, it's good thing the school is roughly equidistant from home and Hamilton, so in between parties, I got other things done.



Happily, I noticed that the party was significantly more low-key than school functions we used to attend back in the states. There was more a focus on activities than on sweets and treats, which was nice. I manned the play doh station at Mina's class, where we worked on shaping lots of cookies. And pizza. And "mommy and daddy snowmen." (that was coined by one of the little girls at the table, which I thought was very cute. I had fun meeting some of Mina's friends. The lot of them are a seriously adorable bunch. Four is a nice age. God bless her teachers though. Whew, those kids have some energy. An hour into it and I was ready for a nap.



At "fruit time" I was gently asked to leave because a drama appeared to be brewing at Mina's table. I was informed this drama occurs daily and involves a set of four, close knit friends who fight over who gets to sit next to Mina (bwah!! I need to enroll in her "how to win friends and influence people class. I'm sure I could learn something). I was informed that my being there might make it worse. In my typically sensitive fashion, I laughed out loud. But agreed that it was time to leave. And of course, that set Mina off into a sobbing round of tears.

Later that morning, I stopped by Jordan's class as they were finishing lunch.



Yes, those are antlers on his head.



This kid cracks me up.

On the ride home, we talked about what he did that afternoon. He told me they watched "Rudolph the Red Nosed Reindeer." We talked about various aspects of the movie, and his thoughts on Rudolph's job. Recognizing that Rudolph's nose made him "unique" (a word we've used in conversations) I thought I'd be clever and apply the word to him:

Me: So, Rudolph was unique among the reindeer, because he had such a special nose. We're all unique in some ways, don't you think?

Jordan(pausing to think): Yes. Except for Olivia and Alex.

me: Who?

Jordan: Olivia and Alex. They aren't unique. They're twins.

It's not fair!

Lately, this expression has been getting a lot of use in the house. I'm not quite sure where Jordan learned this. I've been thinking about whether I might have said it in some context or another. Because whatever I said, the way Jordan uses it - well, it doesn't always make sense.

For example,

Me: Ok, guys, it's time to go to bed.

Jordan: That's not FAIR!!!

This makes about as much sense as most of the arguments I hear at work all day.

It's 8:00. It's the time of the night when you go to bed. It's the same time of the night you've gone to bed for the last several years. As far as I know, we're not adjusting the clock backwards or forwards for spring or fall daylight savings. It's not a holiday. You have school tomorrow. You get up at 6:30 every day and you need sleep.

Ergo - it's time to go upstairs, put the pajamas on, brush your teeth, pick out clothes for tomorrow, and read the two stories we have allotted every night before bed. And yes, I know it's not fair that it's only two stories, as opposed to 15 - but because we've always only read two stories since time immemorial, I am going to chalk this one up to a term called "precedent." I'll explain that to you later.



Maybe my sense of justice and integrity is skewed. Personally, I thought it wasn't fair when I was rudely awoken at 4:00 am this morning because someone had to pee. I especially thought it wasn't fair because my alarm is set to go off at 5:00 am, and I wasn't able to get back to sleep. I also don't think it's fair that this child needs a whole menagerie of animals to sleep with and will throw a fit if one of them is missing from her room at bedtime, thus necessitating a trip downstairs to find the missing one.

I also don't think it's fair she insists on bringing at least one of them to school every day and trusts me to ensure that it comes home with her at night.



On another front, I don't think it's fair that I have to diligently count every bite of food that passes my lips and methodically record the point values of things in the hope of losing the teeniest ounce. Meanwhile, my children can scarf down nothing but pizza, ice cream and grilled cheese sandwiches all weekend long and they barely weigh 40 pounds. And of course what's truly not fair is that the excess weight I've been carrying around the last five years, pretty much coincided with giving birth to the two of them 18 months apart.

I also don't think it's fair that my husband can consume quarts of ice cream in front of me when he knows I am watching my points, but when he wants to drop a few points he glibly asks me how many points are in the meals I cook. And I tell him, and make sure I cook healthy, and all he needs to do to drop weight is eat one or two spoonfuls less of something and BOOM - in a week he's back to normal.



So,I'm still trying to understand Jordan's concept of justice and morality, which, though primitive, still seems to be rooted in the basic idea that he's little and I'm big and it never seems to go the way he wants it to.

Ever.



Except of course, from my point of view, it seems that once you have kids - it's always about them. Which is probably the way nature designed it to be. Is it fair? I dunno... I leave those big questions to others.

The one question I can answer though is in response to a reader who asked where I get the photo stickers I used on Jordan's favor boxes:

I ordered them from snapfish. Here's a hint - before you actually pay for your orders at checkout, always check this website - couponcodes - for deal saving discounts. Snapfish is frequently knocking off shipping and handling charges or offering discounts on prints.

Another great site for stickery things that I love is MOO. Here you can order sticker booklets with a series of pictures. They are much smaller but incredibly cute.

I use those little stickers on snack bags I send in with the kids to school in their lunch boxes, or to seal envelopes on thank you cards, or as reward stickers. The kids get a kick out of seeing themselves in sticker form.

Coming up for air.

I'm still standing. Three weeks into the new work routine; and I am still here. We're healthy, Jordan's biopsy results were good, and we're well into the school routine once again.



It's been a major adjustment going back to work. I Wake up at 5:00; with Jeff's help, I get everyone dressed and out the door, I commute an hour and fifteen minutes to work, and put in a full day. I bring lunch from home so I can work at my desk during lunch and catch up on everything I don't know and don't want to leave laying on my desk for the next day. I'm learning the ins and outs of a new job, new law, new protocols, new challenges.



I can manage all that. That's the easy part. The hard part is wondering what effect this new change is having on the kids. I'd be lying if I said it's all been wonderful. It hasn't. There have been ups and downs.



Mina seems to be adjusting well. When I come home, she runs into my arms and greets me with hugs and kisses. That is an awesome feeling. I hug her and kiss her and feel enormously grateful that she is so easy to please right now.

But Jordan doesn't do that. He stays put doing whatever he was doing before I came in. Sometimes, he's sitting at the art table writing or drawing. Sometimes he might be in the playroom building an elaborate Parthenon style structure, complete with miniature race cars stacked among the columns.

I've learned to walk over to him and put my hand on his shoulders and just stroke them till he's relaxed around me. And then I let him warm up to me. It hurt at first seeing him ignore me when I came home. I finally got to hear his explanation one night last week, and then it all made sense.



As we watched Ariel the mermaid in "Ariel's New Beginning," I noticed he seemed very sad at a point in the movie where Ariel and her father were having a conflict. After much prompting, Jordan came over to the couch and sat next to me. I remarked how sad Ariel's father must feel when Ariel was so angry at him.

"I would feel really sad too," I said.

And then I looked at Jordan and he was starting to cry. He told me.

"I miss you Mommy."

And then we both cried.

I get Jordan. I can look at him and know exactly what he's thinking. He may look like his dad, but his emotions - he gets those from me.



There's a lot of reasons why I think I needed to get back to working outside the home. More than anything else, I think it's the right thing for us as a family down the road. I hope things will improve over time. I understand it when Jordan says he misses me. I miss them!

Over the course of the day at work, I'm generally too busy to dwell on my feelings. But from time to time, I'll notice the hour and find myself wondering what the kids are up to. It's 3:15, I'll think. Time for pick up. 3:45, time for yoga class. 6:00... I wonder what they're eating for dinner. Will they be getting dessert tonight?

At 5:00, I race out the door, sprint to the A train, sprint off at Port Authority and run up the escalator, and three flights of stairs to the 211 gate. I stand in line and stare at my Blackberry.

6:30 - I'm home. I unlock the door rush in, eager to see their faces. I think about that during the ride home. As we come out of the Lincoln Tunnel, I find myself thinking.. "I'm so close now."

When I grow up....

At lunch today, the Monkey and I had an interesting conversation. It was prompted by a photograph which appeared on the front page of the Dining Out section of the New York Times. I usually leave the paper on the table during the day. I glance at it during meals, and sometimes the kids point out pictures and we talk about them.

Today, Jordan pointed out a picture of three young chefs. He wanted to know who "those kids" were.

I explained that they weren't kids; they were grown ups. In fact, they were chefs. See, one even has chef knives in her hand.

Jordan: Knives are for grown-ups.

me: That's right. Knives are for grown-ups.

Jordan: When I'm a grown up, I can use a knife too.

me (starting to worry about the direction this conversation is taking): Umm.. yeah. When you're a grown up, you can use a knife. What would you cut with a knife?

Jordan: I would cut up hot dogs.

Me: (relief) There's lots of stuff grown ups can do that little kids can't. What would you like to do when you're a grown up?

Jordan (pausing for a full minute to really think this over): When I'm a grown-up, I'm going to drink soda.

(to put this into context, let me explain. Since Jordan was maybe 14 months old, he would ask us what things were. At first, he would point and ask "Ada?" As he got older, he articulated his inquiry - "what's that?" Every time he pointed to a can of Diet coke, which I always seemed to have around, I would respond, "Diet soda, it's not for babies.)

He forgets nothing. And is waiting for the day when he can open up his own can of carbonated goodness. Some kids can't wait to sneak their first beer. Mine can't wait for their diet soda, not for babies.



In other news, today was orientation for Jordan's school. He's moved up to the next "grade" at preschool. He's no longer a "tiny seed." Now, he's a "busy spider." There's some Eric Carlyle references going on here, I think.



We did our traditional pose-with-the-girl out front shot. Jordan did a nice job exploring his new classroom and meeting his new teachers. He was thrilled to see one of his old teachers, who was assisting with administrative matters today. She sat down and started chatting with him about his summer. He smiled at her and gave her a hug and a kiss. Unprompted. (Where did this child come from???) When we went to the playground for refreshments, another old teacher came over to visit. Jordan greeted her with the same enthusiasm. That made me feel good. At least he's not running in the other direction.



He was also remarkably patient as one of the aides tried to take his picture for class. Fifteen or so attempts later, he was still sitting nicely on the wooden bench while she fumbled with the camera. And I thought my camera skills needed work.

I think he's gotten a little bigger since last year.





They just keep growing. Slowly, but surely.

Kind of like my tomatoes.



Or Beanie's cheeks.