Thermometer

You want to know that worst part? (Besides how badly I need to clean my car's interior.) The thermostat doesn't work well, and it displays a temperature warmer than it really is.

Self-portrait

Mary ran off with my camera to take a picture of her doll. But, as you can see, she pointed the camera the wrong way the first time.

You can see that she is a bit crusty. That happens when you've been sick on and off all week. I think we're all hoping for less crustiness next week.

Happy Friday!

P.S. I love that little girl, crusties and all.

Mystery of the month

Life is full of mysteries. Like how the gingerbread man escaped. And, even more baffling, girls.

This is the current kindergarten mystery of the month. David has a secret admirer:

We are baffled!

David, as usual, is taking it all in stride: Why wouldn't he have a secret admirer?

Just after I took the above picture--an essential piece of documentation--David ripped off the candy and tossed the heart aside. (What a BOY.) Then I took a picture of him enjoying his tootsie pop.

I love the picture I took: His lips are puckered, his eyes are big, and--best of all--his hair is sticking straight up.

David religiously wears his Jedi Masters beanie hat everyday, and it makes his hair stick straight up...and it's so adorable. I just want to hug him and kiss him and tickle him every time I see that hat hair. And I finally got a picture of it! And I want to post it so badly, it's all I can think about. (Seriously. I'm thinking about that picture even more than I'm thinking about snow pants!)

But I can't post it.

Because David hates it. H-A-T-E-S.

For him, to have hair sticking up is the worst of embarrassments. (Ssh. Don't tell him his hair is pretty much always sticking up this winter because of that beanie--he loves the hat too much.) When David sees his hair sticking up, I see in him genuine discomfort with himself and flickers of shame, as he rushes comb his hair "small" again.

I want so badly to share with you the adorableness of his "big" hair. To record it for myself forever and ever. (Yes, the picture is still in my files--but things feel more lasting on my blog--partly because they're not lost in said files.) But I can't. I have to respect my son.

I knew this would happen when I started blogging almost three years ago: That one day my children would be school-aged, and I would have to respect their privacy more. That I would have to write about them in different ways.

Here's the deal: I figure if I'm wiping your butt, I can write whatever I want about you. But what happens when you, well, take care of your own bathroom needs? What can I say about you? How do I respect you and protect you.....and still have something to post about?

That's my mystery: What do I write about now that my kids are getting older? I still reserve the right to say pretty much anything I want about kindergarten because it's so dang cute. But I think next year (when I have a FIRST-GRADER!!!) will be different. Likewise, Mary is Little Miss Independent and Little Miss Self-Aware/Self-Conscious, so pretty soon I'll have to be more careful about what I send out for all the universe to read regarding her. I deeply enjoy writing about my kids, and reflecting on being their mother. And I still find it soothing to post millions of pictures. But I might need to self-censor a little more in the future. Will that self-censoring leave me with anything to write about???

One solution would be to bring another little bum to wipe into our family. Then I would have something to write about! But that is not happening soon (or ever). So a better solution would be to think of other things to post about....

But do I even think about anything besides my kids?

That, my friends, is the real mystery.

The city with the treasure chest

Saturday morning, as we were driving towards the impressive skyscrapers in Chicago, David wanted to know if Chicago is the biggest city in the country. I told him it is the third biggest.

"Oh," he responded, knowingly, "so it's the city with the treasure chest."

So, yes, we spent a few hours last weekend in the city with the treasure chest, almost 24 hours if you count the suburbs.

Friday, after school, it was a mad dash to the northern suburbs, where we arrived at our hotel just in time for the promised swim in the pool. By the way, taking your kids swimming when they're kinda sick probably isn't a good idea. But I was at the temple at the time, so it was all Greg's doing. I blame him. Never mind the fact that I would have done exactly the same thing.

That night no one slept. Except for David, who managed to sleep through everything, including all the coughing, crying, and even serving as Mary's pillow pet. I tell you that no one slept (except David) so that you understand that Saturday was foggy and somewhat painful. It was a fun day, but there were definitely moments when all I could think about was going to sleep in my own bed. Okay, so MOST of the day all I could think about was going to sleep in my own bed. There. A little honesty on a blog.

Saturday morning, very early, Greg sneaked away for a session at the temple. I got up with the kids, had breakfast (where the tooth was lost and lost), and then plopped their little bodies in front of some good-old-fashioned cable T.V. When Greg returned, we checked out of the hotel and headed into the city for a visit here:

The Field Museum is located next to Soldier Field, home of the Chicago Bears. Here is a lovely picture (not!) of my kids and Soldier Field:

A note on the Chicago Bears: Actually, this is a note on the Green Bay Packers, but I'm hiding it here in the middle of the post about Chicago in the hopes that it will be skimmed over and skipped by my native Wisconsinite friends, lest I lose their friendship and respect for time and all eternity. Um, so, I didn't realize the Packers were still around. My dear friend Leah (who just moved to Wisconsin herself) was also surprised to find the Packers alive and well. She commented that she had thought they were some relic from the '60s who had long since faded away. And I had to agree with her. (Please understand we're talking about two ladies who couldn't care less about professional football.) I think if I had actually thought about the Packers (which I never did) I would have assumed that they had been sold to some city in Florida or Alabama and their name changed to something generic like the Tigers. I just never heard anything about Green Bay. The problem is that I had never in my life met a Packers fan. That's because they're all in Wisconsin. And now that I'm in Wisconsin with all of these die-hard Packers fans, I'm a little, well, overwhelmed. It's like finding out the Tooth Fairy is real. You mean the Green Bay Packers are a REAL football team? And they're GOOD?! It's a little too much for me to take in right now. I'm still trying to accept that my mud room is going to be filled with mud for three-quarters of the year. And now that I have no more friends in Wisconsin, I will move on to the subject at hand: Chicago.

Or, more specifically, Sue in Chicago.

This is Sue.

We were happy to see her again.

This is Sue's head. It is displayed separately from her body because it is so heavy.

Sue may be tough, but Mary is cuter.

The Field Museum and I are not on the best of terms. I want to love the Field. I really do! But, for some reason, during both of the times I have been there, I have had to pee really really badly and could not find a restroom if my life depended on it. And it felt like my life depended on it! Both times! Despite its super coolness, now I will always have grouchy thoughts about the Field. (That's the power of my bladder.) Too bad, because it's a pretty neat place.

Dinosaur Hall is always a big hit.

One thing that is so fabulous about the Field's dinosaur exhibit is that the fossils are REAL. Anybody can throw up a few fossil fabrications and call it a museum (which can be fun too), but these are real thing! These are the actual fossils that paleontologists have studied and learned from. And you can learn what they learned from these particular sets of bones. Like I said, the Field is a pretty cool place (now if only they would label their restrooms as well as they label their dinosaurs).

This, my friends, was our parental fail:

Don't take your sensitive five-year-old to a movie in which a very real looking T-Rex jumps out of the screen and tries to bite his head off. Even if it's in the name of science. Fortunately, moments before the showing I realized Mary shouldn't go--that girl gets scared watching Rugrats--and got my ticket and hers refunded. So while the boys were being frightened out of their wits (in the name of science, or, rather, in the name of making a few extra bucks for the museum coffers), Mary took a nap in the stroller as I pushed her around the Evolving Planet exhibit.

I'm getting to be quite the expert on that exhibit, as it seems to be pretty much the only one I get to see at the Field before everyone starts melting down and we have to leave. Oh, and I never make it past the Cretaceous Period, as it seems that the spread of flowering plants triggers some kind of massive whining attack in my children, so I can't speak to the exhibit's coverage of the Ice Age Period or hominid evolution. But what I've seen (twice now) is very good. It's informative and engaging, and with multimedia elements that, for the most part, enhance the experience rather than feeling gimmicky (like they do in most museum exhibits, I think).

I enjoyed quietly walking through the evolution of our planet, especially since I had been in the temple the evening before. One of the primary things Mormons do in the temple is meditate on God's plan for His children, the creation being a key piece of that plan. In fact, some temples even have beautiful murals of the creation painted on the walls, something you might see if you were to attend a temple open house. So it was with the story of the creation in mind that I traced the formation of the Earth and its varied and diverse life. However you choose to recount the creation, it was undeniably a marvelous, beautiful, and inspiring process.

So it was that David and Greg met up with us in the Mesozoic Era, and soon there were tears and cries of hunger--before the flowering plants really had a chance to diversify.

We decided to eat lunch and walk through one more exhibit. David and Greg chose Ancient Egypt, and Mary and I were happy to oblige.

Here are Mary and David at the entrance.

Please, click on the above picture and note what lovely smiles I get from my children when I ask them to pose for a picture.

Here we are walking through the actual walls of an actual Egyptian tomb, hieroglyphs and all.

You are very lucky that I am too lazy at this moment to plug in my external hard drive or move this operation over to my desktop computer. Otherwise, I would insert about fifty pictures of David in ancient Egyptian tombs in Egypt. Very lucky you are.

Also, every time I look at the above picture, just for an instant, I think I see a Pepsi vending machine at the end of the tomb. Weird.

After we explored the tomb (and the embalming process, complete with a detailed diorama), we checked out the marketplace in Alexandria.

David tested out an Egyptian style bed.

Thumbs down.

Then we looked at a boat found in a tomb. But the real reason I am including this picture is so you can see the look on David's face.

He was like, "Mom, get that stupid camera out of my face for two seconds." (How many other kids feel that same way? Perhaps they should rise up in rebellion.)

I think their favorite part of the whole museum was balancing Egyptian weights on the scale.

And then we left.....after I frantically searched for the restrooms AGAIN.

Upon leaving the Field Museum, I realized that I learned three important things:

1. Do not pay an outrageous amount of money for your child to be scared to tears for 23 minutes, even if it's in the name of science. Greg and I have recommitted ourselves to saying NO in such matters.
2. David is old enough now that we should spend time prepping him before a museum visit: Previewing the exhibits, allowing him to choose what he most wants to see, learning a little background knowledge on those topics before we arrive.
3. The Field really needs to label their restrooms better.

With the Field Museum behind us, we immediately drove back to the northern suburbs. As we were leaving the skyscrapers behind, I kept thinking that we really need to come back to the city and enjoy it. David remembers this day and wants a repeat--and I love that! Somehow we'll need to find the time to stay for more than 24 hours.

On our way out of town, we stopped at the Lego Discovery Center. I try really hard not to hate that place. But David loves it. Mary likes it too. We got unbelievable deals on season passes. And it's super convenient.

Here are some pictures from our brief visit.

By far the best part of the place is the Lego city of Chicago.

(Look at the cute gap in that kid's lower teeth. Adorable.)

Star Wars and Legos is always a winning combination.

Here is the crew working on their creations.

David's favorite part is the test ramps. You build vehicles and you can test them for different things, like speed or durability, on various ramps.

David is ready to test.

(Again, do you see that adorable gap?)

Ready, set,

go!

Meanwhile, Mary was hard at work on her creation.

I think she takes Legos more seriously than David.

And about that time the crowds and the heavy coats and the crowds and the coughs and the crowds all started to get to us. I think our family was on the verge of a collective panic attack. So we fled. All the way home.

And I was in bed at 7:30. Amazing.

And David and Greg were downstairs watching the Packers game. Baffling.

***

Is this the longest post ever, or what? Someone hire me an editor.

Or even better, hire me a maid.

Finale

Today was Mary's final show.

We're very proud of her.

(Details for Grandmas are forthcoming.)

Smart

Yesterday Greg stayed home from church with Mary. She wasn't feeling well. They spent the time napping and watching Busytown Mysteries.

In regards to Busytown Mysteries, Greg pointed out that while Mary had a hard time solving the mysteries on her own, he was able to solve the mystery almost immediately.

"I think it's because of my educational background," he explained. Completely seriously. COMPLETELY SERIOUSLY.*

That, or the fact that you're THIRTY-THREE and not THREE.

Anyway, I'm super proud of my husband. Not only can he solve the Busytown Mysteries, but he ROCKED his first (and tough!!) semester back in school....in a very technical PhD program....after a not-so-technical master's program. (You know you're in a tough spot when you got to think back to what you learned your freshman year of college.) He goes back to class tomorrow. We'll miss having him around extra, but we know he will be rocking it again!

* For the record, Greg says he remembers the conversation very differently. As usual, I'm sure I'm right, though. Right?

Squeal of delight

The best way to describe what awoke me this morning is...

...a squeal of delight!

It seems the Tooth Fairy visited David last night. I would squeal with delight too if I found money under my pillow!

Here is the tell-tale picture:

The tooth itself is lost. It seems it fell out into one of the three bowls of cereal David ate at the hotel in Chicago. And David didn't notice until long after the bowls had been cleared.

I lost my first lost tooth too. It fell out of the tiny manila envelope the school nurse had given me. I was devastated. David took the loss in stride. Though he was momentarily worried that Grandma Evie would be disappointed not to see the tooth and insisted that she come visit the next time he has a loose tooth. (Hear that, Grandma Evie?)

It is nice, in a way, that he lost his first tooth in a breakfast bowl in Chicago. Now we have a nice story to remember. Even Mary likes to tell how David lost his tooth in a bowl of cereal in the hotel.

This morning I commented on how tall David is getting. He told me it is because he lost a tooth. Well, I have to agree that he is growing up.

I loved him little. I'll love him big. And I love him with one less tooth.

***

P.S. Yes, that's Greg in the background of the picture--doing a sweep of the hotel room for books, matchbox cars, lovies, and hair bands. What would I ever do without him?

Five confessions of an English major

Every since I sorted my books last weekend, I have been thinking a lot about, well, books.

There are a few things I should be honest about.

1. I don't like Charles Dickens.
2. I have not read Moby Dick.
3. Nor do I plan to read Moby Dick.
4. I read poetry for pleasure only very rarely.
5. I only read texts published before 1811 if there is a grade involved (or eternal salvation, e.g. the Bible).

It felt good to get that off my chest.

Have a good weekend! (We're making a quick trip to Chicago, snow and all.)

Housekeepers

Yesterday evening our home was filled with the buzzing and flittering of three busy princesses as they cleaned the house.

They were so absorbed in their work that they could not be bothered to pose for a picture.

(Has anyone else noticed how the princess dress has become the uniform of play for little girls? It's like they are physically and mentally unable to play until they are wrapped in a sufficient amount of tulle.)

P.S. If you take the above photo as some kind of proof that my home is a place that strictly reinforces gender stereotypes, I would like to point out the following picture, which was also taken in my home:

P.P.S. We are very grateful for all of the sweet little friends who come to play at our house!

Crummy

It's crummy to feel crummy...

Especially when you're in kindergarten and you can't see your friends and you have to miss out on the week's science centers.

It's lucky, though, to feel crummy the week your dad happens to be around and will play Lego Star Wars on the Wii with you for three and a half hours at a time.

Very lucky.