Ahhhhh...The Dreaded Vegetable!

"What's for dinner Mama?"... How many times have I heard THAT?? It comes right after, "What's for breakfast?.... What's for snack?...I'm hungry!...What's in my lunch?...What's for snack?..." And usually before "What's for dessert?" Hmmmmmmm... So you wanna know what's for dinner, do ya?? "Well, Mama got a new recipe! You're gonna LOVE it! Green bean casserole surprise!!" Uhhhhhhhh... "What?" hehehehe.... "Yeah! Are you starving?" Uhhhhhhhhh... "Wuz the surprise, Mama?" hehehehe..... "Spinach, squash, carrots, brussel sprouts, and just a little peas! That's why they call it casserole. That means all the yummy stuff is baked together!... SURPRISE!!" hehehe... Uhhhhhhhhhh...."WHAT?? Ewwwwwwwwwww. Mama!! No ways!! ... your GROSSSSSSSSS!....What?" hehehehe...

I mean, really... if we can't mess with them, then who can?? It's not like we're going to let their friends or foes mess with them! Right? Oh HECKS to the NO!! But Us? Mama's?? Oh, yeah!! I think your feeling me!!

So anyway, we had some fun with vegetables. Well, maybe I had more fun than they did... but, whatever.... Overall I have to admit, my little varmints did really good with veggies. Until they didn't, that is...

Hidden Greens

I wonder if Mom thinks I ate

the peas I hid beneath my plate...

'Cuz last night when she moved my chair

she found my green beans under there

and when I said they must have slipped??...

she served dessert and I was skipped!

Then there was this sweet little inquisitive morsel that came out of Tiffany one night... It isn't exact, but pretty much sums up her sentiments...

Peas Don't Please Me

Yes, I know my manners,

but in cases such as these...

...must I still say "Thank You"

when you're passing me the peas?

And for the finale?? I'm cleaning the kitchen one night and dang it if there isn't something sticking up the disposal. And, here I thought we were doing so good...

Cleaning Off My Plate

Loved the spinach,

loved the carrots,

loved the vegetables...

I'd go back for seconds

if I wasn't quite so full!

Loved the broccoli,

loved the squash,

loved those brussel sprouts...

They're the best I ever had

without a single doubt!

Loved the green beans,

loved the salad,

everything was great...

(the trash compactor said

they were the best it's ever ate!)

Of course I never really made them casserole surprise (well, at least not the vegetable one). But you get the idea! Anyway, what did I get as payback??? Oh, and you know I did! It was a garbage disposal stuffed with artichoke leafs!! ....Ummmmm....Garbage disposal DOWN!!!

Banditos

Please look closely at the photos above. If you should see these two anywhere near your kitchen...hide the butter!! Word to the wise! Be on alert, as they work in teams, not hesitating to split up if that's what it takes to pull off a master heist. Do not, I repeat, do NOT be fooled by their innocent looks or charm. These two are pros! Consider yourselves warned...

I don't know what it was with these two, but they cherished sticks of butter like little blocks of gold. It probably didn't help that the brand I bought was wrapped in gold shiny paper. And oh, the lengths they would go to in order to pull off a butter stealing scam on mama. They would take turns playing "fall guy". For example, Heidi would start screeching from the furthest room in the house (I find this to be no coincidence), a part of a room or outer back yard that would take my direction the opposite path of the kitchen. She'd be on the ground, very dramatic like...one hand covering a fake boo-boo and the other covering her eyes so I couldn't see if there were any real tears. Blake (accomplice) would run like the wind to the kitchen, use their little step stools if need be...locate the target goal, stuff it under his shirt or pull up pants, and try to get out while I was still in where ever, kissing zero visibility ouchies. Yeah, that's how they rolled!!

Next time, they'd switch off...change location of room and ailment. They psyched me out for a good bit of time too. Then one day I'm changing their beds and find a couple of sticks of butter, wedged down between the mattress and wall... and another in the toy box! They are all resembling butter bananas, if you will. Gold outer wrapping peeled back and evidence of little teeth marks where the insides had been gnawed. What the heck?? So, I start to catch on eventually...in a month, or two, or three... sneaky little actors!! I continue to play stupid for a while (easy) and eventually start setting my little gangsters up. Butter in the fridge, high enough to require a stool? CHECK... Watch them meet in the hallway and devise the mastermind specifics? CHECK... Watch the plan set into action? CHECK... Allow the plan to follow through... CHECK... Watch them as they meet up in their bedroom and close the door? CHECK... Peek through the crack of the door and see them giggle as one produces a butter cube from the front of their diaper? BUSTED!!!

But would I play along for a while? HECK YEA! "What cha doin'?", I ask all innocent like, giving them time to freak out and decide where to throw the butter... "I wuv you mama!", Heidi would say, and head toward me for a kiss. Blake, drops the butter and tries to kick it under the bunk bed. "Um, has anyone seen mamas butter? I can't find it!"... Uhhhh, deer in the headlights. LOL funny! Keep in mind, they're not even two! This would go on, and on... the little sneaker sneaker-twins game of lies and deceit. It would eventually build to cookies, even higher up and on the counter... Oh, oh...They were starting to progress like Bonnie and Clyde. I would have to double back and catch the one in the kitchen in the act! I rounded the corner, Heidi tippy toed on the stool reaching, reaching for the cookie jar... "BOO!", I said, scaring her almost off the stool, except for I swept her up in my arms. "Mama got cha, cookie monster!!", and then, "Ohhhhhh Blakie.... come heeeeeere...." He wasn't too scared to appear because Heidi (accomplice) was giggling and wriggling under my tickles. "Hi mama...", he says, showing his face around the door, batting his lashes, and shooting me his best silly grin. "I gottcha both!! Butter cookie swiping monsters!" ...And then I ran after him with Heidi still under one arm... We would all laugh and I would tell them how I was on to them. "Don't you sneaks do it any more!" I warned. And so they wouldn't... well, maybe not that particular scam. There would be plenty others though...

Banditos

I gots an ouchie-ouchie,

Mama come and see...

I hit my head, my tummy aches,

I think I hurt my knee..

I gots a boo-boo bad, bad!

Mama come and see...

I'm lying in the back yard,

can you come find me?

I think I smashed my finger,

because "that 'tupid door"...

Mama kiss my owie 'till

it doesn't hurt no more??

Our toy box is a pantry,

our closet is a 'fridge,

and in between our mattress,

we've built a butter bridge.

There's cookies in our suitcase,

and pop tarts in our drawer...

perhaps we'll hide the car keys,

and drive when we are four!!

What a little scheming duo they turned out to be. The scariest part? I think they're still pulling fast one's on me...only now they're grown up!! ;0

Halloween Extras...

Happy Halloween

So, basically, I had one rule and one rule only when it came to Halloween's pumpkin patch pickin' day. And by the way...Nobody, and I mean NOBODY, could really understand how much pumpkins meant to me...

I'm in the first grade, maybe six years old?? Halloween had been a huge topic in class for the whole month of October. I didn't know what I would 'be', but what hurt me worst of all...? We didn't have a pumpkin. Times were tough... We had a big fat pumpkin in the classroom though... Oh, it was biiiiiig! I loved our classroom pumpkin. Halloween would fall on a Saturday that year. So, here comes Friday... Halloween around the corner. And get THIS! Right before the bell to let school out that Friday, the teacher says something like, "Who doesn't have a pumpkin yet?"... Believe me, my hand went up with a swiftness! I looked around the room...about three other hands. The teacher put the pumpkin on her desk. "Those with their hands up, pick a number between 1 and 10." OMG...OMG!! "Six!", I say. Wellllllll, what do you know?? After the others give their numbers, she looks at me and says, "Six!!" What?? I mean, WHAT?? I had won the pumpkin! My brothers would meet me after school that Friday to walk home....and ohhhhhhhhhhh how they were JOCKING my pumpkin!! They wanted to carry it. It was heavy too...but I would carry it all the way home by myself! That pumpkin was MY prize! Mama would help us carve it together though...and put a candle in it. I would look out the window for hours watching it.

So anyway, back to the one rule... You could have ANY pumpkin, on the Entire lot...as long as my little gobblin's could get theirs to the car by themselves! Wow! How much fun did I have with this one??!! Little Blake would start working out his muscles days in advance, from around the age of three. So funny!! Mini arm bicep curls and push-ups. The girls were more interested in perfect round pumpkins, although size did matter too... Blake on the other hand?? He just wanted the BIGGEST POSSIBLE PUMPKIN he could roll, push, carry, or move with his feet while leveraging himself on his bum. There was no real time limit...unless of course the pumpkin patch closed... and I think a couple of times it almost did!

Pumpkin Day

We get to get our pumpkins,

today is pumpkin day...

We see some from our car seats

Mom passes on the way...

She finds the perfect pumpkins,

a patch that suits her fine...

We run among the choices,

scream "mine, mine, where is mine?"

We pass up funky white ones,

regardless of their size...

We're lookin' for big orange ones

to take home as our prize!

Blakie spies, way in the back,

the biggest one of all...

If he gets it to the car

his sister's will look small!

He tries to lift the pumpkin...

He tries with all his might,

but can not budge that sucker

an inch left or inch right!

Tiffy runs with Heidi

and they search as a pair...

Looking for the best ones

there and here and there!

The girls agree on pumpkins...

the best in all the lot!

When mama isn't looking,

they come up with a plot...

When mama isn't looking

they help each other out...

'till Blakie spots them cheating

and finks and starts to pout!

We all get home with pumpkins,

and one thing we agree...

There were no better pumpkins

than those picked by my three!!

We'd line the front lawn with old newspaper and help with ideas as I drew faces. Sometimes scary, sometimes traditional and sometimes just plain silly. And then...on with the carving and cleaning mess!! Until, finally, a porch filled with lit pumpkins!! ... And three little faces lit with pride!!

To this day, six is my lucky number...

Thirty~six For Sunday

There would be few places I wouldn't go without my three little ones... We weren't a gang, we were a club! ;) From straight out of the gate, I'd strap one twin to the front of me, the other to the back, plant Tiffany's hand firmly in my own, and off we'd go!! We would adventure together! Of course, there would be the packing of necessities first (cheerios, wipes, a binky or two, diapers, blah, blah blah blah blah). You Moms know the drill. Not to mention the getting them all in car seats and then back out, and then back in, and then... I would learn to scale the anxiety of hittin' the road way down. I would keep a bag basically stocked, one for "out the door let's go", and one for "mmmmm, not sure how long we'll be gone". The kids would become excellent travel buddies. Ready for anything. It was truly amazing. The twins had their own suitcases by age 2. How I loved to watch them all pack!! Priceless memories indeed!

Often, it was the car time that was invaluable. I loved it soooo much that we would take long rides just for the fun of it. Oh the singing and entertainment!! There is just something about being connected in the bubble of the cars interior that really invites bonding! The twins would rock out in their car seats, with Tiffany in charge of the music selections, and we'd party on down the road! And the singing that would come out of those road warriors? Just hysterical! This is of course long before souped-up minivans with DVD players. Seriously, those things freak me out. Do those kind of parents realize how much quality time they are flushing away?? ...But don't get me started on that...

We did a lot of going out to eat. I mean, once we reached wherever the car led us, we'd have to explore restaurants, right? After all, a club has to energy up for what lies ahead! At first we'd get some weird looks. That was fine.... just get us two highchairs and a booster and sit us outside or by the window. Good times. As they got a little older, Sushi? Not a problem... we would rig chopsticks so they could squeeze them together and drop food all over the table, and then help pick it up and feed it to each other. Deep fried artichokes by the ocean? Done. Korean? Yum. Dim Sum? Let's go! No fussy eaters in my gang...I mean club. ;)

So one day I have them out at a restaurant for breakfast. Now, they are getting a bit older and are insulted by the children's menu. I mean, sure they still want the crayons if it's optional...but they only want to order off of mama's big girl menu.... Great! This would cost me... Anyway, so we're at this restaurant one morning and we're pow-wowing over the menu. Mostly, the twins are pointing at yummy looking pictures. None of the things they are pointing at actually come TOGETHER with a meal...but none the less... They point at the pancakes, then at the picture down below with the sausage, then on the other side of the menu at the scrambled eggs...no, no, they meant fried eggs...no, no, Heidi meant bacon and not sausage... no, no, Tiffy meant french toast, not pancakes... wait a minute... milk, no, no, hot cocoa... and then the inevitable, "I have to go pee-pee...", pack 'em all up and head to the bathroom...

Then, when you get back to the table, they've forgotten where they were, so you start all over...Tiffany is reading the menu to them for the eighth time... And the poor waitress?? She's like, "Do you need another minute?"..."Another minute?"... "Wuzza omlet?"...Heidi wants to know... "Waffle with sterburys and whip ceam?", Blake wants to know... And mama is on her 4th cup of Joe...

This little adventure got me to thinking... What if I had more than three?? Oh, Lordy!! And so I would pen this later that evening... I mean...what IF??

Thirty-six for Sunday

Going out to breakfast

is a special Sunday treat...

My favorite part is when the waitress

asks "What will 'ya eat?"

Understand my family

is bigger than most others...

Together we are fourteen girls

and we are fourteen brothers!

Once we've all decided

what our menu choice will be,

instead of being breakfast time

it's usually 2:00 or 3:00!

Since this is a spectacle

you wouldn't want to miss,

a standard order placed by Mom

is typically like this...

"Jimmy, Jamie, Joan and John,

the twins, Marie and Fran,

would like to start their morning off

with juice and Raisin Bran...

Barney, Marney, Meredith,

the triplets and Lucille,

would like their eggs all scrambled,

sausage, bacon and oatmeal...

For Benji, Peter, Rick and Ryan,

Lois, Dawn and Pam,

fry their eggs, three hard, four soft,

and they would each like ham...

Tommy, Tim and Tina

all agree with brother Jack,

four small milks, and apple juice

plus four pancakes, short stack...

Cancel out the order

taken earlier for Pam,

replace it with a waffle

topped with cream and berry jam...

Francie, Joyce and 'Lizabeth

want special number four,

delete the hash browns, add french toast

if not too much a chore...

My husband's in the restroom,

with our number nine son, Murray,

I think they mentioned number two

but they left in a hurry...

Also in the ladies room,

our first born, Meg and Helen,

are counting every calorie

so bring them each just melon...

Mom just wants some coffee, black,

we're not quite finished yet,

add a Denver omelet

for our nineteenth girl Paulette...

Bring along some extra toast,

and keep the butter light,

split it up in even stacks,

some wheat, some rye, some white...

Today, our waitress sent the cook

to verify our order,

and he said if we come again

to "...bring a tape recorder!!"

As the kids grew older, they would of course have friends join us. I would for sure, for SURE, learn the beauty of this poem that I had penned years earlier. Soon, the employees at our favorite haunts would learn the names of the kids. They would call them by name when we came in.. "Hey, Mr. Blakie Man!...What's up Heidi Poo?... Yo, Tiffy, good to see you!..." Sure, I was a good tipper... I'll give you that... But the biggest tip I would get?? Take them with you, enjoy the day, and fill your plate with giggles and memories!!

Little Rotten Randy

I hope you don't think I'm bragging when I tell you that...Blake was almost suspended during his third week of Kindergarten. I know, right? I mean, I didn't even know this was possible! I got a call from his Principal. It would be the first of many....MANY... during his school year "activities". Apparently, there had been some sort of little misunderstanding about my precious Blake (allegedly ;) throwing food in the lunchroom. The Janitor had told him to clean up the mess. According to the Janitors accounting of events, Blake had responded with something like, "You don't tell me what to do. Only my mama and dad tell me what to do. Anyway, I don't talk to strangers, and YOU are a stranger." Uhhhhhhh....oppsy doopsy... Sooooooooo, anyway, the Janitor made Blake stay behind after lunch was over. He told Blake he was to move all of the lunch benches back against the walls where they belonged, as a punishment, before he could return to class. At this point, it seems, the Janitor left my little angel alone in the lunchroom to do his assignment.... Well, I would just like to say here, that some children have a shorter attention span than others...Ummmm, and that's all I want to say about that. The Janitor returned to the lunchroom approximately 15 minutes later. Blake had lined all of the benches up on one side of the lunchroom (which doubled as the auditorium), and had lined the garbage cans up on the other side. He was pushing the benches from one end, with all his little might, and running them into the trash cans...again, allegedly, while making a "choo-choooooo" train noise. Well, it seems this did not sit well with the Janitor, who grabbed Blake up by the collar and attempted to physically remove him to the Principals office. At the same time, it seems this action did not sit well with Blake. This part gets a little "he" said "he" said, if you know what I mean. But according to the Janitor, Blake informs him something like, "My mama says there are good touches and bad touches by grownups...and this is a bad one!!".... Ummmmm, at which time Blake attempted to kick his a**. In sweet Blake's defense, he was just trying to get away from the "bad stranger"... at least, that would be his side. Blake was swiftly deposited into a chair outside the Principals office where he was to wait until she came out and got him. Sitting next to him, would be another boy waiting for the Principal. This boy was much older. Somewhere in there, before the Principal came out, Blake and the big boy got into a little disagreement. When the Principal came out, apparently, Blake was in the process of removing his belt so that he could give the other boy a "good butt whipin'"... I recognized pretty quickly that this did not show well for me. As luck would have it, the Principal found herself to be very fond of Blake. (Thank you Jesus) She would explain to me that when she got Blake in her office and asked him exactly what had happened, he took a long pause... and then began..."You look very beautiful today Mrs. Principal! Is that a new dress? Have you lost weight?".... Oh, how she laughed when she told me this. In all her years, she said she had NEVER met any student the likes of my Blake. Under normal circumstances, she advises, he would have received suspension, however, after listening to his accounting of the incidences, she would give him a one time break. She believed they had come to an understanding. Yikes!!!! Following, of course, there would be the "Egg throwing through the bus window", and the dreaded "I accidental ran the Latchkey teacher over with the bicycle", and the "nobody pushes my sister and gets away with it" understandings.... All in all, it would be an eventful 7 years at Fairview Elementary.

I would pen this little ditty, when he was in the 4th grade:

Little Randy Rotten

Little Randy Rotten,

little rotten Randy Ray,

had a rotten attitude

in school again today!

He brought a rotten apple

as a Rotten Randy gag,

and gave it to the teacher

like a present, in a bag!

Little Randy Rotten

was caught running in the hall,

he hit a kid at recess,

and he popped a tether ball!

Rotten Randy saw us

see HIM pull the fire bell,

and threatened that he'd beat up

anyone who tried to tell!

Little Rotten Randy

didn't want to study books,

he called the teacher rotten names

and gave her rotten looks!

"RANDY", yelled the teacher,

"Little Rotten Randy Rude...

march down to the office

and adjust your attitude!!!

And so it would go...year after year. My sweet little misunderstood mischief maker. We did, of course, have him tested, and more than once, to see if he had perhaps a "little" learning or attention span deficiency. Positive results would allow him to go to a "special" class. But, much to many of his teachers dismay, the test would always come back the same. Blake was "above average". But of course, as his mommy, I could have told you that. ;)

Why?

There's another difficult task many of us would have to face as parents. The time when you would have to explain death... specifically, in this instance, the death of a beloved family member... a pet! UGH!! I'd do almost anything to get out of this one!

Tiffany had a hamster. It was her first. Mr. PB Puff Ball. Oh, how she loved that little rodent! This was before the twins were born, so she had to be around three. My routine would be to wake up early, get ready, and then wake Tiff to get her ready before taking her to the sitter and heading off to BART so I could go to my job in San Francisco. On this one particular morning, horror of all HORRORS, I would find Mr. PB hard as a rock in the bottom of his cage. Uhhh...not good! Not good at all! I sort of fluffed his wood chips around him, and did everything possible to keep her from finding out. This was no easy task, as HER morning routine included jumping out of bed and heading straight for his cage. "We're running late!", I'd tell her. "I already fed PB! Hurry up! Get moving!" I think I might have thrown in a Pop Tart for distraction. Mission accomplished so far, it appeared, as I whisked her into the car. But I would fret all day! Oh, gosh...she was surely going to have an absolute breakdown! And let me tell you, NO ONE had emotional mellow dramatic melt downs the likes of my little Tiffy!

I explained to my boss that I HAD to get off early...Family emergency and all... I would BART back to the suburbs late that afternoon, and head straight to the nearest pet store. Just my luck... no hamsters! Another pet store...and then another... Sheesh, what did a desperate mother have to do to find a hamster in this town?? Finally, a hamster! Sure...she didn't look exactly like PB, but Tiff was three... I mean, really! Would she notice? I raced home. Dishwashing glove armed, I dumped Mr. PB and all of his possible death disease causing litter to the bottom of the garbage. I boiled water and poured it on the cage, water bottle, feeding dish, etc. Made a new comfy home environment and dumped Mr. PB the second into it. Off to the sitter I would go to retrieve my Tiffster. WHEW!! Disaster diverted!

Tiffany would run into the house and head straight for the cage. I held my breath... "MAMA! MAMA!", she screamed. "It's a MIRACLE! My hamster was DEAD this morning, and now he's ALIVE!!" Ummmmm...Say what??

Years later, one of Heidi's hamsters would suffer something close to the same fate (although this time I believe It may have had something to do with her precious cat, Cleopatra (?). I tried to pull the same shennanigans. Don't ask me why... I mean, it didn't work the first time, and it wouldn't work then. At this point though, many a pet had come and gone.

There would come a day though...a day I would overhear such a sweet and emotional conversation. One that transpired between Tiffany and Heidi, sisters...sisters forever. It was that conversation that would inspire this:

Why?

She asked her older sister,

"Can you please just tell me why,

my hamster, like my fish, just like my frog

all had to die?"

Her older sister took her hand

and told her not to cry,

for "Heaven must have needed them

and called them to the sky."

She asked her older sister,

"Can you please then tell me why,

Heaven didn't give me time

to tell them each 'good-bye'?"

Her older sister hugged her tight

and told her if she'd try

"A prayer will carry your farewell

to loved ones in the sky!"

She asked her older sister,

"If a prayer can say good-bye...

can I send another one

and tell our Grandpa 'hi'?"

Yes, pets would come and go in our household. Death would have to be dealt with. Including the time the exterminator assured me his "Green" method of spraying would not harm our zoo. We lost all three of the kids Iguanas that night. We would also lose Cleo soon after. And on one fateful New Years Eve, our little love puppy, Penelope. Wouldn't you know it... it would be my children who comforted me in the end. I was the sissy after all, and them, little emotional soliders. Their love and hugs would end up pulling me through. Such is the beauty of Family!!

Beyond The Purple Sky

There are few things as heartbreaking as when your little one has a nightmare. How, oh how, do you explain to them it wasn't real? Personally, I'm still trying to make sense of dreams myself! Try explaining to a small fry that there really is no monster when they JUST SAW IT!! And when they are really, really little, they aren't even able to verbalize what their fear IS. Comforting them can be so difficult, and all you want to do is make them feel safe and protected.

One night, in the wee hours, Blake had a particularly scary nightmare. He was around four years old. I ran to his room, his teary eyes as big as golf balls, arms flailing. I wrapped him in his favorite Scooby Doo blanket and whisked him down to the rocking chair in the living room so as not to disturb his sisters. I turned on a soft light, rocking and comforting him ... listening as he explained to the best of his ability all about the nasty boogy man who "twied and get" him. Dang that boogy man!! Even though I knew he didn't exist, I still found myself wanting to kick his butt! ;) Fortunately, in the long run, nothing a little cookie and lot's of kisses wouldn't make all better. As he fell asleep in my arms, we rocked back and forth together in the chair, and I wrote him this:

Beyond The Purple Sky

Once upon a pleasant dream

my flying horse and I,

traveled to a magic place

beyond the purple sky.

We met the most peculiar friends

that I have ever seen,

and had a picnic on a lawn

of orange, instead of green.

We dined on sweet ripe apples

which were colored shades of blue,

and listened to the singing

of a yellow kangaroo.

We played a game of softball

with a group of antelope,

and joined in with the turtles

as they skipped a licorice rope.

From now on when I go to sleep

instead of dreams that scare,

I'm gonna take my flying horse

and travel back to there!

When I would go to place him back in his bed, hours later, he opened his eyes and looked at me just as I was sneaking out of his room. "Well, hiya Blakie!", I said quietly, as though I just happened to be checking on him. "What 'cha doing awake sweet pea?" .... "Well...I doh no mama," he said, with both hands raised up, in a perplexed motion. "I jus open my eyes and it wokeded me up!" .... And then he giggled...and fell back to sleep.

Summer Bug

The family that lived across the street were raising their two grandchildren. One was closest to Tiffany's age, and the other an adorable little chunk of a monster named Anthony. He idolized Heidi and Blake. When he was about 18 months old, I woke one morning and went downstairs to make coffee. Through the front window, I would see him, wet diaper sagging to his knees, an absolute mop of black tossled hair on his head, and nothing more... nothing more that is, except two huge butcher knifes he had undoubtedly swiped from the kitchen with no one being the wiser, before making his was out the front door and to the lawn. At first I couldn't believe my eyes. I moved in closer for a look see. Surely, they were play knifes?? Halloween props perhaps?? But NO!! And no adults in sight! Anthony stood like a Ninja, before jumping forward, swinging the knives up and down, round and round, kicking one foot out and then the other, as he attacked some invisible warrior, or dragon, or who knows what else! WHAT THE...? I went flying out the front door and across the street in my nightgown (ummmmmm...I can't promise I looked both ways....my bad). "Hey there, Anthony!", I said, trying not to scare him too much. "What 'cha doin' there little Samurai?" I moved closer... "I pay'ing!! Me stwong!!" Uhhhhhhh...."Let me see what ya' got there little strong man!" Closer, closer.... He lept and turned all in one motion, running to the other side of the lawn, turning back towards me in a proper Ninja stance, and making all the appropriate noises..."Whoosh, wooooooo, swiiiiish, ohhhhhh, ahhhhh, shooooosh, yieeeeeeeee, heeeeeeeyawwwww..." Knives held high. Ah, Jeez... I made my move, grabbing the knives in one hand, and lifting him under my other arm. I carried him to the front door and rang the bell with my elbow. "Good morning!", I said to his Grandma, when she finally answered the door. "I believe this little Ninja might belong to you?"

That Anthony, he was a handful! He also would become almost a constant fixture at our house. We loved him.... even when he would show up at the crack of dawn to wake the family and ask if "Heini" and "Bake" could play...even when he gave the kids head lice (although, I loved him a little bit less then).

Inevitably, however, would come the time one summer, when all three of my little wranglers would get sick. It was a flu to end all flu's. Not only that, they were blessed with a nastly little condition known as "Pink Eye"... I think some of you now what I'm talkin' about. I was changing sheets, emptying vomit pails, cleaning the floor, administering medicines, checking temperatures, warm cloth washing eyes so they could see, changing beds, trying to keep up with the laundry, making whatever I could get them each to eat...and doing it all all over again, and again. I was covered head to toe in vomit and diarrhea, for days on end. And in between it all, day after day, hour after hour...would come little Anthony. Knock, knock, knock...ding-dong, ding-dong...knock, knock, knock... One evening, during this good time had by all... I would pen this, in honor of our little Ninja, who just would not go away...

Summer Bug

Sorry, but the kids can't play.

They'll be out another day.

When their germs have gone away

you'll be welcome in to play.

No young friend, they still can't play,

same as earlier today.

For the eighteenth time I'll say

they're all inside and sick today.

Say whatever you've to say...

No, you can't come in "halfway".

They'll be out when they can play.

Sorry Hon, but you can't stay.

Yes, I promised yesterday

if their fevers went away!

Same old story, different day,

they're still sick, so GO AWAY!

Like a glimpse of de-ja-vu

something told me it was you!

Health check number fifty-two...

Nothing's changed and nothing's new!

Catch a hint and get a clue!

I've 'bout had enough of YOU!

Read my lips and get it through,

ALL THE KIDS HAVE GOT THE FLU!!!

God love that little bugger... I mean, somebody had to!!! ;)

A Little Giant Step

There are so many first times when you're raising your children.  Some touch your heart in the most profound way.  There's the first smile, the first giggle, their first taste of peas, and ice cream.  Then there's this one...one that I can remember like it was yesterday.  My little Heidi was as precious a little girl as you could possibly imagine.  Pale skin, with a little button nose, rosy cheeks, and blond streaked hair that reached past her bum.  A loving snuggle bug with eyes bluer than the sky.  "Mama!  Mama!", she would call to me upstairs.  "Yes, Heidi?"  "Can I please cross the street to play?  I can do it by myself?  I will look both ways!"  Wow!  I wonder how many times I said "Look both ways before you cross!", in my lifetime...?  "O.K. Honey", I had said, "But be careful!"  She wouldn't know I was watching her, peaking through the curtains of my upstairs bedroom window.  She approached the street, hands on hips, standing tall at attention like the big girl she was.  She looked cautiously, first to the left, then the right, before proceeding to march quickly to the neighbors side of the street.  I would write this only moments afterward...

A Little Giant Step

I watched my daughter cross the street,

her long blond hair a sway...

She glances quickly up the hill,

and then the other way.

Momentous the occasion,

 for the both of us today...

As it's the first time on her own,

she's crossed the street to play!

I wouldn't know until that moment how much this milestone would effect me.  I grabbed a piece of paper and sat on my bed to write this.  The tears would swell in my eyes, and fall so uncontrollably down my cheeks, I would hardly be able to see the paper.       

Baby Sister

Tiffany is my eldest daughter. Three and a half years old when the twins were born.. Wise beyond her years. Wise in ways that defy explaination. Barely pregnant with the twins I was, when she announced I was having boy and girl twins. Something rarely heard of in those days, I explained to her that twins were not something she should count on. Let alone a brother and sister. She would roll her eyes around and around. So put out by my naive, dumb mama attitude. Sure enough, she would come to foresee something even the doctors could not do in those days. Seven months later would come Heidi and Blake. But how was I to know? She was such the princess! How would she handle a new baby? One, let alone two! Assuming I would have a new baby daughter, I wrote her this:

Baby Sister

When Mommy went to make me lunch,

and noone else could hear,

I crept to my new sisters room

so we could get things clear!

Now, I can put my jammies on

and once I tied my shoe,

and I can sleep right through the night

and not wake up like you!

I can count to ten real fast,

and I can sing and dance,

and I wear big girl panties

'cause I never pee my pants!

Mommy paints my fingernails,

but yours are way to small!

And I can hop and skip and jump

and you can't even crawl!

I have my own green toothbrush

'cause I have strong teeth to chew,

and I can eat McDonalds

'stead of formula like you!

I can help our Mommy shop

and ride the pony there.

You can't even wear barrettes,

unless you grow some hair!

Before I got to tell her

that I'd never share my toys,

she waived her tiny hand at me

and made a silly noise!

There's so much I must teach her,

tell me what else could I do?...

I told her she could stick around

till she was one or two!

My little Tiffy would turn out to be anything but jealous. She would be in complete love, with nothing but admiration for her new brother and sister. She would reach out with her little hands the day she met them, her left hand in the blue bassinet, and her right hand in the pink one...and she would cry, introducing herself, and assuring them she would take care of them for always and forever...

Danny Deviate

My little Heidi has a twin brother named Blake. Such a handful that little bugger! A smile that would light the sun. An energy that would challenge the hyper. A joy to our family. He brought laughter that resonated throughout the house.. Sunrise to sunset. He is our little joy boy! But on this one day, he had ignored the rules. RULE: When walking home, you DO NOT take shortcuts!! Point "A" directly to point "B", my little scooter!! Yet he would take the long way home. Up the hills and back down through the vacant lot. "I walked my friend home", he would say, with innocent eyes... school clothes covered with mud...lunch pail and jacket missing..hair all a mess... Me, half wanting to hug him up, half wanting to swat his cute little ass... Overall, just sooo happy he was safe, and at home. Hence, this would be the poem I wrote to read that bedtime:

Danny Deviate

Daring Donna Daisy

and her dolly Debra Drew,

invited Danny Deviate

to tea at half past two.

Danny took a detour

that he never took before,

and didn't get to Donna's

'till at least a half past four.

As he approached her doorstep

what he found was just a note..

He opened it and read outloud

the words his young friend wrote:

You dawdled Danny Deviate,

and now you're way to late!

I'd made your favorite cookies

but by three they'd all been ate!

A disappointed Danny

wished he's come at half past two...

And when he left to walk back home

he took the way he knew!

We all discussed what this meant at bedtime. The moral seemed to make it's mark. Although, it would come back to haunt me time to time, when I came home late from work...

Kitty "Duties"

My then husband was not as keen on pets as I was. I had been raised with a houseful, and felt they were a part of making a house a home. They did not just add to our family...to me, they were family. He was pretty patient, however, cats were something he found to be a "non negotiable"... So oneday, I brought one home as a gift to our daughter. I mean, it was her birthday! I adopted it at the fleamarket, and hid it in her closet in a tiny basket, lined with baby blankets. "Hurry Heidi", I said. "I hear something in your closet!" And so there she would come to find the most pathetic, scrappy, little black kitten you have ever seen in your life. She was ecstatic! He was pissed! Wouldn't talk to me for days. " It doesn't have anywhere to s#%*!", he would complain. But he couldn't really bring himself to make her get rid of it. Threats followed. "It better have a litter box!" he said one evening after work. He had put his foot down. "That damn cat better find somewhere to do it's "duties" in!" His words to God's ears... And so it would go, and this poem would come to life...

Kitty Duties

Remember Dad, you told us

that the kitten couldn't stay,

unless it had a litter box

to "duty" in today?

We love you for your kindness,

and we've found the perfect place...

Our kitty likes to "duty"

in your open leather case!

As memory recalls, it wasn't the best of nights. But "Cleopatra" eventually would become a family member, loved by all... well, almost all. ;)