Wednesday, May 08, 2013
  ET TU, CP ?

     It seems to me that there are two schools of practice when it comes to loading a dishwasher. There are those, like Sarcasdad, who copiously rinse every dish before placing it inside the appliance. In my book this makes the dishWASHER more of a dish SANITIZER. Which is not a bad thing, but kind of defeats the purpose.
     I rinse the dishes. Just not until they are squeaky clean. The exception being any bowl that was used to serve oatmeal or any oat based flake. Left on it's own, it takes on the properties of fast drying cement and requires a chisel to remove.
     The other day I was loading up some plates when the CP came into the kitchen. He leaned in and said " Uh, Mom Mom, you may want to rinse that off some more."
     Only 8, and already feeling the pull of the dark side.
     Speaking of the CP, we may have to change his moniker to The Amazing CP. His every little boys' love of magic has developed into quite a passion, sparked in part by the opening of not one, but two, houses of magic in our city. We have taken in the Sunday family magic shows at both, and the CP has always managed to get on stage and assist in a trick. Both sell magic illusions and the CP is steadily adding to his repertoire. He and two friends did a magic act for the school talent show. It was just a few tricks, interspersed with a lot of slapstick. The boys executed the magic very well, and were a hit. They were also hams. When the scripted bit was done, they started improvising, showing no rush to give up the stage. If the teachers had a hook I think they would have used it. Instead the principal wisely stood up and began applauding. When the family went out for Easter brunch, the CP worked the table, showing great aunts and uncles his mastery of illusion. I think some of the other patrons were hoping he would come to their tables as well.
     On his last trip to the magic shop he got a magic hat. Can't wait to see what he pulls out of it.

Thursday, April 04, 2013
  These Are All the Words

     I found a Cinderella stamper in the leftover Easter merchandise at work. The top is a figurine of the Disney Princess, and the bottom is a stamp, that when inked makes the impression of a crown. I knew the ZM would love it. Unfortunately it did not come with an ink pad so we unearthed a set of stamps from the CP's stash of art supplies. There was just enough ink left on the pad to let the ZM embellish a few sheets of paper. We folded the paper to like greeting cards and the ZM dictated what she wanted printed on them. Some family members will be getting a nice surprise in their mailboxes !
     When the inkwell truly ran dry she asked her Pop Pop if he could get her some pink ink. Of course he obliged and the ZM was back in production.
     After dinner she brought me some of her pages and asked if we could fold them into a book. When the pages were ready the ZM told the story , and I did my best to write it all down. What emerged was a wonderful tale about a train. Se loves  trains. I could not write fast enough to record every word. But every word I captured was hers. As each page was finished I read it back to her, to be sure she was satisfied. Because of the way I had folded the pages there were two blank ones in the front. The ZM found this unacceptable so we used one to record the date, and suggested that the other serve as a dedication page. The CP lobbied hard for a heartfelt and sincere homage to her big brother. Without hesitation she said "It is my book, and I dedicate it to me!"
     The book, entitled The Train, would be an accomplishment for someone even older than the 3 years old she is. It is wonderful from the start, to my favorite part, the finish.
     When she was all done telling the story, on the very last page, she told me to write "these are all the words"
     Much more eloquent than "the end". Dontcha think?

Wednesday, August 29, 2012
  A Little Tense

This is one of those little things, that I don't want to forget.

A conversation with the ZM(mostly) age 1 month shy of 3.

The CP(age 7 and 1/2): Mom Mom do you remember the sword I got on the Pirate Boat? It broke.

  (me-that's a shame)

The ZM: Mom Mom, the thingy I got on the Pirate Boat didn't broke.

  (me-that's good)

The ZM: I don't want it to broke.

  (me-me either)

The ZM: It will probably broke eventually.

Sunday, June 10, 2012
  And Now, the Weather

     Even though this blog is called Wednesdays Off, I am usually off on Sundays too. Sarcasdad is off on Wednesday as well, making it a real day off. Unless I've got something going on, I clean on Sunday. When Spring rolls around, I clean with a little extra effort, so when the triple H days of summer hit, I can slack off a bit. Anyone from this part of the country knows that those Hs stand for hazy, hot and humid. We are one of those homes without central air, by choice. Some days, when breathing is enough to make you sweat, and people insist on telling you that it is the humidity, not the heat that is the culprit, I question our sanity. But truly those days are only a few in a whole year. And we have survived this long, coming as we do from a generation where air conditioners were a luxury. We had huge window fans for those nights when sleeping was tough.
     Anyway, I am glad I cleaned with gusto last week, because today is one of those too hot to exert yourself much days. I knew it would be. Today, is Star's birthday. She would have been 39. It is almost always a triple H day. The day she was born it hit 90. Her first birthday was celebrated with the whole extended family crowded in our first house, again without air conditioning and the thermometer hit 94. Year after year we anticipated the hot dry heat , and were rarely disappointed.
     Since my chores are done for the day, I am going to take my Kindle, and sit under a tree in a park where we used to go to read on hazy hot and humid Sundays.

Sunday, June 03, 2012
  Once More, With Feeling

     The first sentence always seems to be the hardest to write. And now that I have gotten that out of the way, on to why now, after all this time, even bother. I am not sure myself. I have not stopped composing posts. I blog in my head all the time. I am most prolific in the morning, with the best stuff emerging when I am brushing my teeth or as I am driving to work. If only those words actually made it to print. I am one heck of a writer in my head, if I say so myself.
     My theory as to why I can string words together better at those times than , say, now, is that I am not distracted by other pursuits.Words with Friends, Draw Something, Pinterest, etc. While I am somewhat of an iPad addict, I do abstain while engaged in either of the aforementioned activities.
     I remember how good it felt to get all the thoughts out of my head and onto the digital page. I miss that.
     So here I go again. It's good to get the memories down. The other day I was telling Sarcas-sis how the ZoeMeister and her penchant for wearing dresses was reminiscent of her at the same age. The fact that she remembered none of that shouldn't have surprised me, as she was only 2 or 3 at the time. But it did. I have no idea if the ZM, the CP, or anyone for that matter will read any of this. But that's okay. I blog for me.
     I had started, but never finished a post about an example between a grandson and a granddaughter. It was one of those men are from Mars/women are from Venus moments. Dinner was served. Whatever we were having was on the spicy side so there were hot dogs for the kids. I put one on the Cutie Patootie's plate. He looked at me with big puppy dog eyes raised under those long beautiful lashes and said  in a little boy voice "Mom Mom. will you cut my hot dog?". The same seven year old who moments ago had been outside playing soccer, whose voice was echoing up and down the block enabling us to pinpoint his exact location at any moment, who just earned another belt in karate, needed me to cut his hot dog. I, being a sucker for puppy dog eyes and little boy voices, was happy to oblige.
    Simultaneously, on the other side of the table, Sarcas-sis had put a hot dog on the ZM's plate, and as a the ZM is only 2, her mother started to cut it for her. The reaction was swift and immediate. The ZM balled up both fists, and in a voice that could be heard in a sawmill said "Noooooo! I do it myself!" . And she did, slicing the wiener with the dinner knife while her mom held it steady with a fork.
     We have eaten together many times between then and now. Just last week , the CP asked me, again, if I would cut his meat. "Really? You need Mom Mom to cut your meat?" his mom asked. I let it be known I was glad to do it. Because someday he will stop asking, and I will miss him wanting me to. One of his parents, I can't remember which, very quietly said, "of course, he will be in college then"
     In case you were wondering, in my absence, there has been no lack of sarcasm.

Sunday, August 07, 2011
  This One's for Me

I have lots of excuses reasons for not blogging. Time is a big one. I never seem to have any left over . At least not at the same time that I have the energy to string a sentence together. Facebook is another. Somewhat because it is sucking up some of the aforementioned time. I am a word game aficionado, as it turns out are many of my friends, and family. My word addiction is being sated through social networking. Mainly I think Facebook has superseded the need to blog, because it gives me an immediate outlet, and, I get immediate feedback.
Still, I miss this, sitting down to record some thoughts. Ones that I can save and recall at will. It occurred to me the other day , that the ZM is getting short shrift with this arrangement. She hasn't gotten near the post time that the CP had at her age. Not for lack of material mind you. She has provided me with plenty.
I am recording this memory for me. It made me smile when it happened and I am pretty sure that if I read through this post 10 years from now, it will make me smile again. If you get a smile out of it, that's a plus.
Sarcasdad suggested we take the CP and the ZM to the Jersey shore for a day trip, before our planned week long vacation. The CP has been , but this would be the ZM's first trip to the beach. At least then the ocean and the beach wouldn't be totally strange to her.
We had a great time, and the day went pretty much as expected. The ZM loved the big sandbox, and while not afraid of the ocean, didn't really seem to get the point of it. The CP was excited and wanted to do everything at once. With all the activity and new things to see, a nap was out of the question for the ZM, despite our efforts to convince her to lie down on the heat resistant blanket, inside the UVB filtering tent under the UVA blocking umbrella. When it was time to leave, she was beyond tired so taking her down to the water against her will to wash off the sand seemed inadvisable. I changed her into clean clothes in the car, but she still had sand stuck to her just about everywhere. We made good on a promise to get ice cream on the boardwalk before we left. The CP chose a superhero popsicle for himself, and a chocolate, vanilla & cherry Dora the Explorer on a stick for his sister. When they were done we cleaned them up as best we could with napkins and bottled water and headed home.
The ZM was asleep before we hit the causeway. "Mom Mom" the CP said, "isn't she cute?"
I turned in my seat to see him gazing at his little sister. Her head was leaning just slightly to the left, propped up by her car seat. Her blonde hair, wind blown, and full of sand was sticking up at odd angles. The faded trails of chocolate and cherry ice cream drips ran down her cheeks and chin. And, she was snoring. Pretty loudly.
Seriously, if the kid could find cute in that, then I pity the boys who will someday want to date his little sister.

Wednesday, May 25, 2011
  Plaid is the New Khaki

The CP is intrigued by intrigue. He loves playing spies, and has amassed an impressive array of spy related gadgets. Such as binoculars that let you see behind you, and secret message writers and decoders. He has also been seen snooping through the house with a magnifying glass and a notebook looking for clues to a mystery he could be called on to solve.
The National Constitution Center in Philadelphia was offering an exhibit titled Spies, Traitors and Saboteurs, Fear and Freedom in America. They had the CP at "spy" and he asked repeatedly to go. Sarcasdad has a membership to the Center that allows us admission to all of the exhibits so we took him, even though we thought the content might be a little adult for a 6yr. old. As it turned out, there was enough to keep him interested as we walked through the exhibit. Some of the highlights for him were the FBI agents badge, which he claims to aspire to wearing one day; a pencil bomb; and, a piece of a police car found in the World Trade Center rubble.
To keep him engaged in the self guided exhibit, I tried to take the information presented and talk to him about it in 6 year old language.
Next to the glass encased pencil bomb was a display of French artillery shells. We talked about the big gun, "like a cannon" he said, that was used to fire them off. He looked at them for a while, touched them, and then asked a thoughtful question. "Mom Mom, do these come in other colors?"
It was hard not to laugh as I admitted that I did not know. In my head I pictured people huddled under cover, as artillery shells whizzed over there heads saying"oh look, a red one!". Admittedly, they did sort of look like a row a of crayola crayons when you open a new box and they all still have their unused sharpened points. Still, I wondered what he was thinking. What did he see when he looked at those man made weapons of destruction? Who knows ?
If the FBI agent gig doesn't come through perhaps he will channel his creative side. He could be an interior designer on a television show. Like Trading Spaces. Is that still on?1 When it is time for the big reveal the family will return home to find their bedroom redone in early WWI, complete with a wall studded with ordinance, repainted a calming shade of blue.

1. I Googled. The show ended in 2008.

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