crazedparent

Kindergarten lessons...

My baby started kindergarten yesterday.

As is tradition for every first day of school, I asked him to stand by our plum tree so I could snap some photos of this precious moment that made my heart swell. He obliged.

Later in the day, I went back to look at the photos and prepare them to send to family. Little Q., with his adorable smile and, mischeivious, story-telling eyes. 

Hold the phone, what's he doing with his hand? Wait? Is he flipping me the bird? Noooo. He doesn't even know what that is.

Or...does he?

Did we pick the right name for our son?

"Mom, I want you to change my name. To Chewbacca."

I'll get right on it, kid.

Things I love: Little League Opening Day

I can say it doesn't get any better, but it does.

My guys kicked off their Little League season over the weekend.

The biggest change?

Q. is on a team. Finally. No more waiting. He's an official t-baller.

Seeing my littlest guy all suited up in his uniform, well, it caused this mama to sigh an awful lot.

And then seeing my biggest kid, all lanky with a true gamer attitude, watching the even bigger kids get ready to play? That made me sigh an awful lot too.

And I have to make an embarrassing confession. At his game later in the day, he made a move that made me jump out of my seat and yell. And I looked back at the other parents and realized they were all yelling too. The play? He was stuck between third and the plate, a true game of pickle with the gal on third base coming after him. And he hustled his way to the plate and scored a run.

I felt that odd mixture of pride and complete mortification: My kid just did something really cool and scored a run! But oh sweet Jesus,  did I really catapult my body that quickly and far?

Oh yes I did.

I swore to my fellow team parents I would try my hardest to never do it again.

I hope they did not see my fingers crossed behind my back.

Valentine's Day: Tiny hands, big hearts

I noticed yesterday that someone had added this photo of Nol's hands holding crayon hearts to a Valentines gallery. I remember the making of those DIY crayon hearts for his kindergarten class. He put such care into this project. 

I haven't seen that photo in a very long time. Two years to be exact. And when I clicked on the enlarged version, time stopped as I stared at those those tiny, gentle hands that belong to the little boy whose heart is always filled with such love, such joy. Even in moments of anger or frustration.

I went into Nol's bedroom as he was reading his bedtime stories and I stopped him so I could hold those same hands, bigger now, but still smooth but covered with little chips and scars from baseball and basketball and all those games that eight-year-old boys play.

And then I went into Q's bedroom as he lay peacefully sleeping in his bed, surrounded by his stuffed animals and Hot Wheels cars. I looked at his tiny hands, the same size as Nol's two years ago. The hands that sometimes hold my face as he gives me a kiss on my nose. So small, so sweet.

Today we will begin the creation of Valentine's Day treats for both Nol and Q's classes. Two different projects specifically chosen by each boy. I will, of course, post photos and tips for those of you needing last-minute ideas.

But really? Those photos and stories that I post will be for me. So when I go back and look at them, time will stop --  if only for a second -- while my mind floods with images and memories of their tiny hands and big hearts.

Dispatch from the test kitchen: Coffee Cake, a la "Mad Hungry"

The phrase "we've been doing a little cooking around here" is an understatement. The entire family is enamored with Lucinda Scala Quinn's book, Mad Hungry: Feeding Boys & Men and we've been testing out as many dishes as we can. When I say "we," I mean it. The boys, big and small, are part of the cooking act. And I wouldn't have it any other way.

Q. loves to make "Aunt Patty's Coffee Cake." Besides the fact that it's delicious, he knows that he can really get his hands dirty making of the dish. And if he's not in the picture, his stuffed animal is:

Let's take a closer look, shall we? Because this little mix of sugar, unsweetened cocoa powder* and instant coffee (Starbucks Via*) brings the coffee cake to life:

Yum.

The cake batter calls for one cup of sour cream, which adds a delicious richness to the cake. Last night, however, our refrigerator didn't contain sour cream. So we used Brown Cow plain non-fat yogurt instead.  My husband said the yogurt version tasted better than the sour cream version. The only noticeable difference was that the cake didn't have as much volume after baking.

Two great jobs for little helper hands: Prepping the Bundt pan by covering it with butter and mom or dad can handle the flouring of the pan. (See Spot? Always around.)

And sprinkling the filling over the batter (they get to do this twice).

Once the last bit of batter covers the filling, I let Q. help me swirl a knife through the middle of the batter to give it a marble effect. We popped it in the oven and waited patiently for 80 minutes (50 to bake, 30 to cool down). For an almost five-year-old boy, 80 minutes is ETERNITY. But Q. was a good sport about it. And the requisite peeking was involved.

Once the cake is ready for us to devour, I usually slice it into two halves and freeze one half of it. It thaws quickly so it's perfect for a weekend breakfast treat. This time, I cut it in half but the four of us each had a slice right away and I could tell we were going to need that other half sooner rather than later. That little slice at the top of this post? Inhaled.

I interviewed Lucinda back in November and I'll have to post it here soon. Her book is wonderful, I can't
recommend it enough. Her family favorites have become our family favorites. (I also tweak her recipes to add different twists and flavors. Which is the way of cooking, right?)

But tomorrow, my recipe for veggie chili. 

*I used samples obtained at BlogHer Food 2009. Thank you, Sharfen Berger Chocolate and the gal who was handing out Starbucks Via samples. I'm not a fan of it for drinking but those little packs rock for recipes that require instant coffee.

Word up: Using Bananagrams as a pre-reading tool...

Whenever Seven and I have a lunch date, we always bring a little travel game with us. Last week it was Gobblet. Yesterday, we brought out Bananagrams because I'm still a Bananagrams addict. Nearly a year has passed since Seven and started playing the game, and it's been neat to watch his spelling skills improve. More so, I love the words he uses in a round. Back in January, he would get frustrated because he couldn't think of words fast enough. Now? He is a speedy Bananagamer.

Q. has been showing signs of wanting to learn how to read and write. He asks for words to be written out ("Big and lowercase, Mama" and sounds to be repeated. He grabs a pencil and paper and attempts to scribe words. Being able to read and write is so empowering at all ages. But when little kids realize they can read a book and write a word, it's pure magic. And I am nothing short of ecstatic at the chance to help open up that world to Q.

Monday afternoon, I found Q. playing with the Bananagram tiles, trying to spell out small words: CAT, STOP, FUN.  But he'd stuck because he couldn't think of words to try to spell.

To help him along, I wrote words on index cards. All of the very simple three- and four-letter "at," "it," "op," and "ap" words. He was left to search for the letters and sound them out while he created the words.

Scrabble tiles will also work, natch. But I love the Bananagrams tiles because they fit in that nice, small pouch.

Any fun tips/tools you used to help your kids learn to read?

365 Day 9: Bedtime...

The long road to bedtime includes a last rush to play with every toy in the room before we read stories. I played with shutter speed for this shot, which makes for a transparent arm. Eerie.

Bunk beds for all...

Mary Tsao and I must have had the same vision over the weekend. We both went to Ikea and purchased bunk beds for our kids. The hubs and I spent an hour disassembling Five's junior loft bed and then another hour assembling the new slumber quarters for the boys.

We decided to take a rest on the construction/deconstruction of furniture when it came to Q's toddler bed. It was late and we had no place in our garage to put the pieces since it was littered with cardboard and the loft bed.

The boys ate their dinner quickly as they chatted over the table about their bunk beds. After baths, they hurried into their room and played -- Five on the top bunk and Q. in the bottom bed, which he pretends is a train.

Books were read, teeth were brushed, and the boys were ushered back into their room. Q. scurried out and climbed onto our bed. His face had a sheepish smile with a twinge of anxiety. I brought him back into his room and he squealed, "No, Mommy. I don't want to go to sleep."

Q. isn't ready to say adios to his toddler bed.

I grabbed his blankets and pillow and put them back on his old bed. He eagerly crawled in and asked for a hug and a kiss while his big brother teased him for not wanting to sleep in a "big boy bed."

"I AM in a big boy bed," he replied with pride.

I snuggled in with Q. for a few minutes, secretly grateful that he still wants to be on his crib-sized mattress in his miniature bed.   When Q. is in the bunk bed, he looks like a single word on a large blank page. The size overwhelms him, overwhelms me.

Turns out that I, too, am not ready for Q. to say goodbye to his toddler bed.

I'm holding onto Two for as long as I can.

And he said, Q. style...

Scene: On the drive home from school.

Characters: crazedparent and Q.

Q: "Mommy, I want to hear Alyson!"

Me: Silently turns on song.

Q: "Mommy, louder!"

Me: Silently turns up song. Begins singing...

Q: "Mommy, turn off your voice! Turn off your voice!"

Me: Silent. Yet smiling.

Cry-inducing cookies...

Two days during the week are designated "Mommy-Q" days. Q is home with me all day while big brother Five is in school. After the rushed drop-off, where we scurry to get Five in his kindergarten class line before the tardy bell rings, Q and I jump in the car and plan out the rest of our morning. This plan most definitely involves a run to a local coffee shop.

My sweet Q...he has a flare for drama. Sort of like his big brother. And the family dog.

And he can work it. Or perhaps it's more accurate to say he can work his mama over. Case in point, our Tuesday morning "plan" conversation:

Me: "Q, Mommy wants to go to the coffee shop, okay?"

Q: "Okay Mommy. Can I have a croissant, Mommy?" (which comes out as qua-sont" and makes me melt).

Me: "You don't want a galletita?" (Translated: "little cookie.")

Q: "No, Mommy.  No galletita."

Me: "How come no galletita?"

Q: "The galletitas make me sad, Mommy. They make me cry. I need a croissant."

So we split one.

And then he ate two small chocolate chip biscottis, which, of course, made him cry with warm, hard tears.

"More galletitas, Mommy. More!"

But you knew that was coming, didn't you? He is two, after all.