Irony and the 5 year old

Brooklyn gets sarcasm.  We use it enough in our house that she should.  For the most part, she doesn't try to use it on us (knowing she will get in trouble,)  but there have a been a few "duh" moments and eye rolls.  Sarcasm she gets... irony-  now that's a little illusive.

On Tuesday, Brooklyn came in the door from school and immediately went upstairs to change.  I had barely gotten Kensi out of her carrier before Brooklyn came barreling back downstairs in her Cinderella dress and crown, ready to play "school" with her stuffed "friends."  After about ten minutes, when things seemed to be fairly quiet in her playroom, Brooklyn came to me holding a ziplock bag full of dirt, trying to tell me that some of the dirt had "accidentally" spilled on the carpet and that some water had "accidentally" gotten spilled on top, making mud.  I jumped up (with babe in arms) and went into the playroom to see what latest mess had been created.  Sure enough, there on the floor was a pile of wet dirt.  Next to it, a water bottle with the lid off.

After questioning Brooklyn for just a few minutes (her mind moves at the speed of light and no sooner had I gotten the first question out had she already tried to figure out what story to tell that would get her in the least amount of trouble) I determined that the "accident" was really that she hadn't thought her experiment all the way through.  The "accident" was not that dirt got spilled on the carpet - she put it there.  The "accident" was not that water got spilled on top of the dirt - again, all Brooklyn's doing.  No, the "accident" came when Brooklyn realized that she wouldn't be able to clean up the wet dirt and that the wet dirt was making the carpet dirty.  I do give her kudos for at least coming to me and telling me, rather than trying to hide it.

I explained to Brooklyn (once again) that it is never a good idea to bring bags full of dirt into the house.  I reminded her that she has tried to bring dirt home from school before and each time she has had to throw it away.  Then I told her that she had to clean it up and to go and get the vacuum, which she did.

And here, gentle readers, is where the irony gets lost on the 5 year old:

All together now: "Cinder-elly, Cinder-elly, Night and day it's 'Cinder-elly!' Do the washing, and the moppin, they always keep her hoppin."

Winding Down the School Year

Brooklyn is excited.  We are finalizing plans for our trip to Ohio for Cousin's Week (where Daddy and I will deposit her at Aunt Peggy's house and "get out of Dodge" with Kensi as fast as possible) and our journey through Gettysburg to Washington DC.  All she can talk about is that she wants to pack her swimsuit because she "hopes" that she'll be able to swim each day.  When I picked her up from child care after school yesterday, she showed me an American flag that she had drawn on paper and then ripped out (around the flag.)  She excitedly told me that she was going to make a whole bunch of her paper flags and take them with her to Aunt Peggy's so that all of the kids could have one.  (We'll be there on the Fourth of July, and she is equally excited about celebrating the USA and all things American.)  She is excited about seeing her cousin Stella.  She told us, "I haven't seen her in FOREVER!"  (It was this past January, at RJs wedding.)  She was less excited about seeing her cousin Bobby, but I think that's because she doesn't remember him as well as Stella.  She is excited about the travel plans I am making and things I am talking about with Daddy, even though she won't be there.  She is excited about the possibility of swim lessons (because she will be swimming at Aunt Peggy's house.)  Can you tell there is a theme here?  In this 5 year old's world, at this particular time, everything is revolving around a trip to Aunt Peggy's house.

But first, some work must be done.  Those last few weeks of school have to be slogged through, cubbies cleaned and lunch boxes retired.  She has to finish school.  Only a few more weeks and they seem to be flying by.  It occurred to me just yesterday that there is no school this Friday and that's one less day of school left.  We are finishing the last month of homework and trying to make sure all of her "i"s are dotted and all of her "t"s are crossed.

This week is Teacher Appreciation Week, and boy, do we appreciate our teachers.  Brooklyn was excited about giving her Teacher and the counselors at Child Care their little tokens of appreciation today.  She wanted to help me carry in the bags.  (She even had to make sure as we were walking up the sidewalk to the school, "Mommy, is it Teacher Appreciation Week?")

Somewhere along the way in the last ten months, my little girl has grown up a bit.  I wonder what happened, when I blinked and missed her growing up just a little more.  She's only 5 and in the grand scheme of things, that's young.  There's so much of her life left to go, and yet, at the same time, she's so grown up.  She helps to set the table and clean up after dinner, she helps to take care of her sister (but won't change diapers) and she reads.  Alot.  Don't get me wrong, we still struggle.  Last night, she brought a bag of dirt home from school and then thought it might be a good idea to open that bag on the living room floor and then pour water on it. (Of course, it was all explained to me as an "accident.")  Believe me, we still have the tantrums and the fights, the stomping feet and the crying.  But at the same time, when I tuck her in at night or when I sneak a peek at her sleeping before I go to bed, she looks so big, so tall in her "big girl bed" surrounded by Mr. Bear and Gymbo and all of those friends. 

Sometimes I don't think I'm old enough to have a kindergartener.  Sometimes I don't think I'm responsible enough to have 2 kids and sometimes I still see myself as a kid.  Now I must face the realization that I have a first grader.  Yikes!  As kindergarten fades into the distance, so too will "nap time" and "circle time" and "centers."  In their place will be math and geography and sitting at her own desk all day.  Thank goodness she'll still have recess!

I guess it is one of the blessings (and a curse) of being a parent.  Before kids, my life might have cycled on my birthday or on an anniversary, measuring time by how close I was to that day or how much time had passed since a date.  With school-age kids, time is now measured in school years.  I have a kindergartener for another few weeks.  Then it is summer break and after that, 1st grade.  Summer won't be measured by trips to the pool or plants growing in the backyard - it will be measured by how many weeks of camp are left or how many weeks until school starts.  I no longer age in 12 month cycles, I age in school year cycles, marked by what grade my child is in.  If I was worried about losing my identity when I first had kids, there is no question it is gone once Brooklyn started school.  I am now firmly entrenched in life as "Brooklyn's Mommy"

Then again, she is only 5.  She knows the school year is coming to an end, but for now she's not thinking of how much she has learned this year or who she will have for a teacher in the fall or even what she's doing for summer camp.  For her, it's all about Aunt Peggy's house.

Some craftiness over the past few weeks...

Kensi's Baby Naming was last Saturday.  I wanted to do a few things (including make the cake for the party) and found a few other ideas along the way. 

A few months ago, while having lunch with my Mom in Newport Beach, we stumbled across a cute little bakery that made sugar cookies with pictures on them.  (Their claim to fame was having made the cookies for the President's inauguration party.)  Of course, with that kind of publicity and a Newport Beach address, you can imagine what their prices were like!  After some well-spent time on Google, I found a bakery in Canoga Park that could put pictures on cookies for a much better price.  I finally picked out the photos that I wanted to use and sent them off.  When the cookies arrived, I was trying to figure out a way to display the cookies and make sure that people took them after the party.  This is what I came up with.

 I put sticks on the back of each cookie, and then using my candy molds, made some candy flowers and Stars of David to round out the box.  I used styrofoam and tissue paper to fill up the bottom of the box and keep everything raised up and went from there.  You can't really tell, but I also had white tulle wound around some of the sticks.  The flower cookies are big sister Brooklyn and the squares are Kensi.  More than a few people told me that they would not be able to eat those little faces, and I have yet to try them, so someone who was able to bite into B will have to tell me if the cookies were any good.  :)

For my next project, I borrowed an idea that a friend had posted on her website.  Generally speaking, no decorations are needed for a baby naming party and people were just gathering at Ray and Ronnye's for food and to hang out.  There was no question who was the guest of honor, but I decided to put a few more pictures of her around, in case there was any doubt.  Using Erin's idea, I put a picture of Kensi inside of a jar with some pink tulle and wrapped some ribbon around the jar.  I tried putting a little light in the jar too, but it didn't really work well.  Maybe if the party was at night it would have added something, but since it didn't, I took them out.  Here's how one of the jars turned out.

And then there's the cake.  I decided to do the cake myself, but also didn't really have the time to bake it.  So I ordered the cake plain from the grocery store and took it home to decorate.  I finally got to use my Cricut Cake for the first time (bought it on Black Friday last November) and it worked o.k.  I got mixed reviews from the ladies at the cake store where I bought my supplies, and did have some minor hiccups, but I supposed it worked out.

As you can tell, pink was the color of the day (of course! what else for our princess?)  I think I was cutting the border for the top part of the cake in this one.  The fondant was a bit soft for the cricut.  It worked well for the rest of what I was doing, but I think for the borders and designs I was cutting, I could have used something a little more stiff.  I also found out the hard way that the grocery store put WAY too much frosting on the cakes.  I was able to scrape some off of the bottom layer, but not the top layer, so the fondant slid just a bit overnight.  I also ended up baking another cake to put on top of the 1/2 sheet from the grocery store, so that the proportions of the top tier and bottom tier worked a little better.  The cake tasted good and from what everyone has said, it looked o.k.   I think I need some practice on my Cricut, but otherwise, the day and all of Kensi's decorations turned out very nice.

Happy Mother's Day!

In honor of Mother's Day - a little "card" to all of the Moms, Grandmas, Aunts, Nanas and other special and important women in our lives. Hope you have a great day.



Things my Mother Taught Me:

Religion - By saying "You better pray it comes out of the carpet!"

Roots - By saying "Shut that door behind you, you weren't raised in a barn!"

Logic - By saying "Because I said so!"

Foresight - By saying "Wear clean underwear in case you're in an accident."

Stamina - By saying "You'll sit there till all that spinach is gone!"

Anticipation - By saying "Just wait till your father gets home!"

Wisdom - By saying "You'll understand when you get to be my age."

Justice - By saying "One day you'll have kids and they'll turn out just like you."

Just a Few More Hours in the Day, Please?

There is a part in the movie Miracle on 34th Street (the remake with Elizabeth Perkins and whats-his-name that played an attorney on that show on ABC...anyway...) where Santa Claus (or St. Nicholas) explains how he is able to stop at every house in the world (the ones that celebrate Christmas, anyway) in one night.  He says something about slowing time down so that a minute actually equals an hour and "so on and so forth" which then enables him enough time to travel the world in one night's time (adjusting for time changes and the Greenwich line, of course.)  These days, I wonder more and more about the trick of St. Nick and how I can get some of that extra time.

It seems that there are never enough minutes (let alone hours) in the day.  I wake up each morning already feeling hopelessly behind in all things, with nary a hope of catching up.  Ever.  I have scrapbooking projects and gift ideas, albums from trips and places we've visited, all sitting around my craft room, untouched.  For this month, I have a list of things to finish in the next two weeks, Mother's Day projects, a T-Ball team's banner, something for Kensi's baby naming party and several baby albums.  That doesn't take into consideration the ongoing Project 365 (or Project Life) that requires a picture and a bit of journaling every day.  For the most part, I am keeping up on the journaling and taking photos.  It's actually getting them into the album where I tend to struggle.

I keep tabs on the creator of Project Life through her blog and Facebook.  From time to time, she posts links to other blogs by people who are also working on Project Life and includes photos of what their books look like.  I saw one today where the woman talked about her struggle to stay on top of things and that she was several weeks behind on her book.  Then I looked at the photos.  Not only was she making slight changes to the format of the project, to make it "her own," but she was creating parts of it from scratch!  Yikes!  And I'm having trouble keeping up just using the pieces that the project comes with (and my photos.)  To find time to add to it?  Oy!  And of course, in looking at how others are doing their Projects, it just gives me more ideas that I'd love to try on mine, if I only had the time.

As I leave my bedroom to head downstairs, I pass by a stack of things on the linen closet counter - a skirt that Brooklyn has ripped and wants me to fix, a pink stuffed shark that seems to have developed a hole (maybe he bit himself?) and that Brooklyn wants fixed, the front piece to a drawer in the girls' bathroom that came off and needs to be reattached... and the list goes on.  Walking into Kensi's room, I'm greeted by the stacks of clothes that she has already grown out of that need to be sorted to then be stored.

Some days, it is all I can do to come home and collapse on the couch, making sure to place Kensi on the floor in such a way that she can entertain herself without hurting herself, and making sure that Brooklyn isn't near any matches or open flames, and then I crash.  Yesterday I could barely keep my eyes open for the first 1/2 hour I was home, despite Brooklyn's best efforts to get me up and going.

At some point, I rallied to help B write a note to her teacher for an end-of-the-year gift, and then got dinner going.  After dinner and getting the girls to bed, I drew a tiger on orange felt and finished sewing a piece of the team banner together.  I vaguely remember what it felt like to have long days stretching before me with nothing to do and nowhere to go.  I don't necessarily want those days back - at this point I'd settle for one of those long days without distraction, so I could get all of those nagging little projects done and put away.  But where to start?

In the meantime, I'll keep making my lists and trying to keep myself organized (hahaha).  One of these days I'll actually write those submission letters to the magazines and one day, hopefully soon, I'll get back to the Mr. Bear collection and illustrate Greece and the U.K.  Maybe I'll even get to scrapbook our wedding and honeymoon, the 2004 and 2009 vacations, Brooklyn's first 5 years and both of my pregnancies before Kensi's first birthday. (HA!)  But first, a T-ball banner complete with 15 felt baseballs, a baby boy album, some Mother's Day gifts, some party decorations, and a few more pictures of the day.  And I'll keep trying to track down that extra-large, overly jolly guy in a red suit and see if he's got some extra time to spare.

Technology and the Wandering Jews

This past Saturday, we celebrated our Ninth Annual "Cohen Family Seder."  This is yet another example of my psychosis, having decided nine years ago to host a seder on the Saturday night of Passover week and invite "all who are hungry to come and eat."  The first two years were small events, in our condo in Sherman Oaks, with the makeshift tables stretching from the tiny dining room past the front door over to the fireplace on the other side of the living room.  After our move to Valencia, our numbers have grown (and shrank and grown again) and as always, the guest list is varied and includes our Jewish and non-Jewish friends and family.  Our family has grown with at least 4 little ones having been born over the past few years (and I think someone was even pregnant at our very first gathering.)  This year, we were 30 strong.  One friend was contemplating bringing a significant other and I told her that he might have to sit on her lap.  She thought I was joking.  We moved out the couches and chair and coffee table and rolled in rented tables and chairs and we all got very close. 

Over the years, we have gone through several different Haggadahs (the books that tell the Passover story) with each being tossed aside (figuratively speaking) in the search for something different, something better, something "more."  Rob's dad Ray led our little band of misfits over the first 7 years and we could never find a book that fit our group quite right.  Last year things got mixed up a bit, with Aunt Eunice handing the reins of her Seder (our family's First night celebration) over to Ronnye and Ray.  Since Ray was leading that seder, he told Rob that it was up to him to lead his own. (After all, it is our house, right?)  Rob decided to go out on a limb and venture far away from the books that we had used in the past, and instead wrote his own tale, a Passover play, if you will.  His surprise ending didn't carry quite the punch we had hoped, when the actor failed to deliver her line and another guest stepped all over it and delivered it for her, without quite realizing what he was saying.  (We chose to announce to our family and friends the impending arrival of Kensi by having his Mom deliver the parting line of "next year with another Cohen" after the traditional "next year in Jerusalem."  She was unable to speak her line, having read ahead and gotten a bit choked up at the news.)

Regardless, we strive each year to make things more interesting.  Not having another birth announcement to keep things going this year, we had to look for something else to do.  I came up with an interesting challenge for our guests.  The story of Passover tells of the Jewish people's flight from Egypt following G-d's deliverance of the plagues and the Pharoah's order for the people to leave.  Our people left in a hurry, without time to let the bread to rise.  The Seder describes the plagues and explains the symbolism in what we eat, why we eat it and even how we are supposed to eat it (reclining to the left.)  But the Seder doesn't discuss what came after.  After Moses led the people out of Egypt and after they crossed the Red Sea, the people wandered in the desert for 40 years.  G-d provided food (manna) and water when it was needed, but what else did the people want or need that they did without for 40 years?  And knowing that they were to be ready to leave at a moment's notice, what did they take with them?

I issued this challenge to our guests, to consider what they would have done, if placed in a similar situation and told to wander the desert for 40 years.  What would they bring with them, and why?  I provided some guidance, that at least 1 or 2 of the items should be "necessary" such as toothpaste, and asked what sentimental items they might bring.  The results were predictable as far as the "necessaries" were concerned, but much more interesting when you consider the sentimental side of things.  It became readily apparent as the discussion moved around the tables from guest to guest, that we were separating into groups based upon our age.  These groups were not born out of what we wanted to bring or could not leave behind, but were based on the technology relied on to achieve those goals.

The discussion started with people telling us what they brought - chapsticks, toothpaste, granola bars, etc.  Rob and I then tried to move the discussion away from the necessities and more toward the sentimental, things that they could not live without.  To provide a real life example, I used myself and explained that I could not go anywhere without my pictures of my girls and my family.  (Anyone who knows me knows that I am somewhat defined by my picture taking and scrapbooking.)  I mentioned bringing my laptop with all of those pictures. (Of course, Ray immediately went to the practical question - how and where would I plug it in, but that's beside the point.)  From there, the discussion got rolling with more and more guests opting to bring photos or albums.  Then we got to the kids. As I mentioned, a line formed by age and it seemed that the younger members of our group quickly went the route of technology, opting to bring their iPhones or iPods, in order to have their collections of music and games close at hand.  One young guest (age 13) wanted her phone so that she could text and stay in contact with her friends.  I apparently fell on the "older" side of the group, having forgotten that so much information can now be carried on something just a few inches square, thinking instead of my laptop which apparently has gone the way of the dinosaurs.

I'm not sure that the object of the lesson was completely grasped (after all, who would provide the cell service or internet connection in the desert?) but the thought process was certainly amusing.  These days, we are surrounded by technology which allows us to keep in constant contact.   I'm not sure anyone "checked in" on Facebook as being at my house Saturday night, but the option is certainly there.  We can instantly tell where our friends are and who they are with.  Celebrities "tweet" their locations and watch as waves of paparazzi follow them around.  We call and text at the touch of a button, we email and surf the net to stay on top of world affairs.  But when it all goes away, what are you left with?  If cell service is gone and the internet is no more, what would you have?  Our children think in terms of this technology, wanting to maintain a connection to their friends and their music.  We adults tend to think in terms of our history, wanting to maintain a connection to our past, holding on to our memories in photos and albums.  Are they right?  Are we wrong?  Or is there a middle ground?  As I type this, I am certain that if cell service dropped completely today, most of the teens in our world right now would not be able to figure out how to pick up a land line phone and call a friend, let alone figure out how to walk to a friend's house without the aid of Google Maps on their smart phones.  For now, I am in limbo, since B is too young to have a cell phone and would rather sit with me and look at my albums and pictures.  For now.  But the time is coming, I am sure, when I will have to enter the battle of the past, and history, versus the future and technology.  I hope that there can be a happy medium or a middle ground, that we can achieve amazing things with technology but still keep that connection to our past.

In the meantime, I can be found in my office, trying to get a handle on the thousands and thousands of pictures I've taken over the years and trying to keep up with all of the new ones I'm still taking.  Feel free to stop by for a trip down my memory lane if you'd like.  And bring your own chapstick.

The times they are a changin'

I stopped at McDonald's this morning on the way to the office - one last egg mcmuffin before the matzah-fest begins.  As I was pulling away, putting the straw in my drink and rolling up my window (all at the same time,) I was struck by how different a "drive-thru" experience is now than it was when I was a kid.  I'm not that old (yet,) but a few things struck me.

First, remember when you used to have to roll up your window using the hand crank?  They would hand you your food and you would sit there for an extra 10-15 seconds to roll up the window, especially if it was raining.  Then came the automatic windows, where at just the push (and hold) of a button, your window would rise.  Of course, things sometimes went wrong with those - I remember a particular '87 Celica that I owned in high school and college, with a window that would only work when it wanted to and sometimes I'd have to pull it from the top, while holding down the button.  Ah, the memories.  These days, my car is equipped with power windows that operate on a "one-touch" system.  I tap the button once and the window rolls all the way down.  I tap it once again and it rolls all the way up.  No cranking or holding buttons needed.

Let's talk cup holders.  These days, most cars come equipped with 2, and if your lucky, one of them is slightly larger to accommodate today's "Super" sizes.  (Do you really need 42 ounces of Coke?)  I can rememer a time when cars didn't even have cup holders.  You know those nifty sticky pads they sell that you can use to stick your phone or ipod to the dash?  They used to make cup holders that stuck to the dash.  yikes.  Of course, in my little Celica, the cup holders were for gum wrappers and trash, coins, a whistle and whatever other junk I could cram in there, so the odds of getting a cup into it were slim to none.

Ordering has changed too.  These days, when you pull up to McDonalds computer screen, it greets you with a message about what they are featuring and then tells you to "order when ready."  The wall of options rises above you on the right, causing you to crane your neck to see every last possible choice.  You make your picks, tell the computer your order and voila! it appears on the screen.  (Yes, I know there is a person on the other end listening and putting it into the computer.)  They even ask you if it is correct.  Sometimes when the screen is out, I feel strangely alone and adrift in that drive-thru lane.  But remember the good ol' days?  The tiny little speaker box on a metal stand that was constantly getting hit by cars and looked twisted and beaten into submission... the crackling voice coming over the line, of which you only heard every third word... the mix of fear and hope as you spoke your order, hoping that they heard "without" cheese and not "with" cheese and hoping that your order would be correct when you got to the window... and wondering how much it was going to cost, because you couldn't hear the person telling you what the total was. 

And then there's the paying.  It used to be that you dug in your purse (or your cupholders) for change, hoping that once tax was added you had enough pennies to get that extra taco or cheeseburger, the drive-thru operator waiting while you counted out the change and dug in your seat for the last few quarters and dimes. Nowadays, noone even carries cash.  You just whip out your debit card and hope that you'll get a receipt at the next window so that you can remember to write it down in your checkbook.

Oddly enough, I had the somewhat dubious fortune to be on both sides of that drive-thru window.  Having seen (and heard!) some strange things on the other side of the window, I always try to be nice to those working there (not that I wouldn't be anyway,) but I always try not to be dificult, and smile and say "please" and "thank you," even when I'm telling them that I wanted "regular" coke and not "diet" and that "no," I don't need to add on any fries with that, and trust me, I don't need to super size my combo.

These days, technology has made lots of things so much easier and quicker.  Keeping those drive-thru times down means more money for the restaurants, so they want things to move quickly.  (Yes, they time it from the moment your order is entered until the moment the food leaves the window and the person pushes the button to "clear" it.)  But wouldn't it be great if someday, you were able to order it from your phone or the screen in your car?  My car already has a map that tells me where all of the nearest fast food places are.  Why shouldn't I be able to tap the location and pull up the menu and order, and have it waiting when I get there.  (This is not to be confused with online ordering for take-out, which I already use on my smart phone.)   Ah, the good old days, when you used to have to actually cook your own dinner (after going to the store to buy the ingredients) or actually park the car, get out and walk into the restaurant.   Then again, I'm o.k. with the technological way of things.  As long as there isn't a big fast food restaurant war where Taco Bell wins and the government starts controlling my salt intake, I think we'll be o.k.