Dear Mike

Just last week we had our first child, and you cried.

Day before yesterday we had our second child, and you laughed.

This morning amidst the chaos of toaster waffles, sippy cups, violin cases and lost tennis shoes chased by 'where are my keys?', surrounded by the clutter of Matchbox cars and permission slips and unfolded laundry and junk mail needing filing you were there making sure everyone was headed to where they needed to go with the stuff they needed to have with them.  And you had a smile on your face.

Our boys are really lucky to have you.  So am I.

Happy Father's Day.

Dear Dad

A million and a half years ago, you used to take me to your store on Sunday afternoons. I probably complained a bit, but it was nifty being the only one of the neighborhood kids who got free roam of an empty paint store. Wallpaper rolls make cool swords.

A million years ago, we would walk home from church on Sunday afternoons, and you taught me to run and click my heels. I never could get as high as you. And I suspect that my ankles made contact more often than my heels.

A half million years ago, you would bug me to make my bed in the mornings. One Sunday I forgot and you had me make it three times after church. You stripped it each time and then told me to go make it again. When I was done, I short sheeted your bed. You never said a thing, and I don't recall you ever saying anything about my bed after that. Suspiciously, the door to my room would be closed more often than not, though. Anyway, thanks for receiving as good as you gave. No hard feelings?

A quarter million years ago you dropped me off at college, and in the awkward goodbye on the dormitory steps, you gave me a hug and handed me some money and told me to be good. I went up to my room eager to embrace my new independence, but worried about being more on my own than ever before. I was too old for wallpaper swords and hadn't the courage for heel clicking on campus. No one cared if I made my bed anymore, or to close my door so they wouldn't have to look at the mess. But then your letters started to arrive, and I knew that no matter how independent I became, I'd always have roots.

Happy Father's Day.

Cheektowaga White!

My how half a score will just fly by! Last Friday was our 10th anniversary, so to celebrate we called in the grandparents and took off for a weekend at Lake Chautauqua (a town that surely was the inspiration for Gary, Indiana a la The Music Man). Good weekend, although it was off to a rocky start (see Magnus Patris for blown tire story). Our goal? Celebrate us, take a golf lesson, and sample some wine, not necessarily in that order. Last summer I did a day trip wine tour with some preschool moms, and had such a good time I wanted to go again but with Mike.

Unlike the wineries in Leesburg, the Lake Erie wine samplings are FREE.... and much tastier than those in Virginia (but I'm a sweet wine drinker, and the Niagara grape seems to be the thing to grow in this region). We came home with 16 (yes 16) bottles, and since I'm a one glass a week wine drinker this should keep us stocked for quite a while. So far my favorite is Penn Shore Vineyard's Lambruscano because it's so fragrant. But our stop at Schloss Doepken takes the cake just for sheer amusement's sake. After following the directions, we pull up not in front of a store, but a farm house. The sign told us to come on in, so we did, calling out b/c it didn't appear anyone was home. "I'm a'comin' said this voice, and around the corner is J. Simon Watso, vintner and proprieter. He's wearing red suspenders, leaning on a cane, and was 85 if he's a day. We spend 15 minutes just listening to him gripe about a double hip replacement, reading a 'recent' article (published in 1993... "read the first page and the first column", said he) about his winery, and patiently waiting to taste one of the 12 bottles he had lined up on the counter. He handed me a bottle and told me to read the label aloud. I got about halfway through, finishing with the winery's history, and moving onto the wine's description when he yanked it out of my hand and said "that's for me!" OKAY! Next, he pulled out a stack of little plastic cups (Mike thinks they were Nyquil cups, but I maintain they were little communion cups), and he said "These are the rules of the house: We don't dump. We don't gargle. We don't spit, or any of those affectations." And we were off. For each wine, he had a precise description which he re-enacted with gusto:

This is an exceptional oak aged Chardonnay. It's perfect for any special occasion such as Thanksgiving, or even just with grilled .....SWORDFISHHHHH.

This is CHEEKtowaga WHITE. CHEEKtowaga is a little town outside of Buffalo, where I used to fly out of, and I figured if we named a wine CHEEKtowaga WHITE, and everyone from CHEEKtowage bought a bottle, we'd be SOLVENT.

This is September Rouge. On a late summer evening if you drive down Route 20 with the windows down, this is what you'll SMELL.

At the end (we were there 30 minutes, when mercifully another couple entered), we felt like we had to buy some of his wine. And actually, Mike really liked his Apple Crisp wine (meant to be served warm). Two bottles of that, a bottle of the house wine, September Rouge (my favorite), and CHEEKtowaga WHITE. Just because there was a pink flamingo on the front. On our way down the gravel path Mike wondered which of us would be blogging about him first. I guess I win!

Fare thee well, Mrs. Greenthumbs

Now that we have a new house, and I'm done having babies, and life seems to be settling down, I'm turning my attention to yard work. Knowing that a green thumb is cultivated, not created, I pulled out my one and only gardening book: Cassandra Danz' Mrs. Greenthumbs: How I turned a Boring Yard Into a Glorious Garden and How You Can Too. Perhaps you remember her? Mrs. Greenthumbs had a regular appearance on Regis and Kathie Lee as well as the Today show. Her wacky sense of humor (really OUT there) was just so much fun. Her book is hilarious, and I've had it for years, which is about how long it's been since I've read it. But I wanted to mentally prepare myself for a FUN experience (gardening is not really my idea of fun. Work, yes. Fun, not so much. I'd much rather have the garden without the gardening.) And I ask you: what's a new project without a new purchase? Off to Amazon I went to get another one of her books, where I discovered that they're OUT OF PRINT! Heavens to murgatroid... get me to Google ASAP! And this is what brought me to a very sad revelation... Mrs. Greenthumbs died six years ago of cancer! She was 55 years old. And I'm just so sad about that. Of course I didn't know her personally, but I felt like I did (she wrote in a stream of consciousness style that made you feel like she was talking to you). I guess with the kids and the old house renovation, I missed that news (it was in the New York Times for heavens' sake!) I'm sad that this gifted gardener, hilarious woman and all around happy sounding person is no longer around. Tragic.

So in tribute to Mrs. Greenthumbs, I did make a purchase tonight. Spring Hill Nursery had a coupon (she would have appreciated the thriftiness), and there's a lilac bush, a butterfly bush, two Shasta daisies, six daylilies, two Sedum and a jumbo perennial grab bag headed my way. I'm pulling out the graph paper and am starting to plan.

Things I Learned Today

1. Sam's Club photos really stink.
2. Wet evening grass in an early Pittsburgh May is REALLY COLD on bare feet.
3. My patio is 12 feet deep by 24 feet wide.
4. I'm a glutton for punishment.

Anyone have any ideas for what I can do to spruce up this yard? Consider that most of our yard is being torn up in a few weeks to rebuild a retaining wall, and that I have two small children who will want to help.



And while you're thinking on that... what colors should we paint the door, front porch and trim? That's going to need repainting soon, and the beigy beige beige-icity that is my house leaves me so drowsy I can barely stay awake. It's a swell house, we're enjoying it but GOSH... can you say VANILLA??? You get points for creativity. And by points I mean I won't hit you up to babysit the boys.

Thanks Chuck!

Every couple of years I go on a fruitless quest. I do not seek knowledge or wealth or wisdom, but nostalgia. Which is why I thank God for eBay. What did people do before online auctions? I want to know. Scratch that, I don't really care because my search is over.






Ah Charlie Brown, how I missed thee! I have no idea how many hours I spent going through this book as a kid, but I do know that I should have saved it because it's taken me YEARS to find it again. My Grandma Askew also had these huge Peanuts anthologies that I would read over and over again, and I have no idea where they are. But thanks to eBay, I think I've found one of them. Can't wait to share these with the boys in a few years. Until then, they're all mine!

Skinned noses and soccer balls

Where did March go? Could someone please call lost and found because I seem to have misplaced it. Oh never mind, I won't complain. Especially since it means spring is finally here, a concept that is still mainly theoretical since I drove through a brief flurry on my way to work.

We have spent this week, regardless of today's chilly weather, enjoying our new neighborhood. We knew that a little boy Clay's age lived next door and we finally got to meet him on Sunday. And then, hooray! Our neighbors on the other side have a little boy Drew's age. It's as if this house was meant for us because it's perfectly sandwiched between built in playmates for my boys.

And for some reason, serendipity smiled on us once again because I remembered JUST IN THE NICK OF TIME that Clay wanted to play soccer this spring. I had no idea where he would do this, since there are many jurisdictions here, but I let my fingers do the walking and lo and behold, I found a website for the local soccer club, and online registration was closing in two hours!

It's scary how quickly I can drop $80. And how easily I'm guilted, for of course, they wanted parent volunteers.

It's even scarier how quickly I volunteer my husband for these things.

So I'm not sure why I was surprised when the team roster came out, and there near the top was Mike's name. As assistant coach. Funny, I could swear I signed him up for website duty. My normally good natured husband was less than amused. "I know nothing about this sport... the best I can do is say: 'Don't use your hands..... Don't use your hands.... DON'T USE YOUR HANDS!'" I tried to assure him that a 4 year old soccer team coaching job is probably more akin to herding cats than building skill sets. He wasn't convinced. "Would you please volunteer yourself next time?" Um...sure?

Clay is thrilled, though. We went up to the local soccer store tonight and picked up his jersey, his soccer ball, socks and shin guards. He wanted to carry it all to the car. Even as he dropped his parcels in the parking lot, the most he would acquiesce to letting me carry was the socks. When I told him I really thought he should let me carry something else he handed me the receipt.

So we made soccer registration by the skin of our nose. Drew has not been so fortunate. The other day we went for a walk, and he took off down our driveway. Before I could catch him, he took a nose dive right on the concrete. The poor little boy now has a healing wound on his nose and upper lip in the shape of Florida. Mike commented that if it was only a little higher, he'd at least look like Gorbachev. I wish I saw the humor in it because it's just painful to look at (not that he seems to mind). I can't quite take my eyes off of it, and by the stares and flinches from the neighbors and the other people at the store, neither can they.

Scenes from our winter

We finally downloaded the pictures off the camera, and that, coupled with yesterday's trip to the Pittsburgh Children's Museum (we have a two year membership now... thanks Mom!), lit the proverbial fire that I needed to post some photos!

Here's some of the boys enjoying their new playroom (also known as our furniture-less living room):

May the force be with you!

Sundays is when Baba and Gigi usually visit. We'll have lunch and then Clay and Baba will dance to Ukrainian Radio hosted by Komichak (Gigi's favorite program):



On Mondays and Fridays, Drew enjoys his play gym at the YMCA. His favorite activity is the slide, where he always says "Whee! Happy!" on his way down.






Not that it's all play and dancing around here. There's also a healthy dose of art appreciation.

Gran always has good composition, but I think she could have been bolder with the indigo in her shadows here.

And we have had a bit of snow, which means Clay could finally go sledding!

Of course, the day of the snow a 3 year old in a neighboring county was killed while sledding. His older brother was watching out for cars, but didn't see the car until after his brother had started down the hill. So now I can add that to my list of paranoias.

And last but certainly not least... the children's museum! Pittsburgh was home to Fred Rogers of Mr. Rogers Neighborhood, and the children's museum has an entire exhibit called 'The Neighborhood' with the trolley, tv cameras, a puppet theater like the one from the Neighborhood of Make Believe with replicas of King Friday and Lady Elaine. The actual puppets were also on display (behind glass of course). I actually got a little teary when I saw Henrietta Pussycat.

The museum is housed in the old Buhl Planetarium, and the actual planetarium is where the car garage exhibit is. The kids had fun climbing though the doorless mini Cooper. Because the ceiling is the former planetarium, it was extra tall so the kids can climb up and throw down toy parachutes. Then, they slid down a chrome slide.

But it was in the fabulous water play area, which is where I suddenly remembered that I HAD A CAMERA!, and then sadly realized that the camera's battery HAD VERY LITTLE JUICE LEFT, which is why we really only have pictures of the waterplay area. They were soaked, and had so much fun that Drew pitched a fit when it was time to leave.







Happy March! May Spring not be far away...

Speaking of my musical kid

Clay likes to sing, which he'll do a lot, usually to some tune that we've just heard on the radio. I'm happy to report that usually it's something worthwhile. Something from the Suzuki lesson, perhaps. Or Tom Chapin, or even the Who (with the appropriate word substitution, a la "Who's that duck with you?")

Tonight, he couldn't stop singing "Free credit report DOT COM!"

I think it's time to cut back on his TV time.

A violin update

One thing that I haven't mentioned recently which I've been meaning to, is how much we're enjoying Clay's new violin school. It's just amazing what one year and an organized program makes! He goes to City Music Center at Duquesne University, and he takes three classes each Saturday: group violin, a Dalcroze Eurhythmics class, and then a private lesson. We have about an hour between two of the classes, which is just enough time for us to have a bag lunch, and then hit the computer lab. He's really enjoying the Music Ace software, he knows what an octave is, and the kid can recognize A, B and C# on the treble staff. I don't know why that impresses me, but it does. Plus, he's learned his first scale (A Major), and in a few weeks he'll perform his first solo piece in a recital -- a complete Twinkle rhythm. Last year, he could only play small parts of the rhythm, and only with a lot of coaching. Now, he's just a big kid with a beautiful violin posture, going through the notes of his very first song.

I love you, Monopoly Jr.

Remember my post about Family Game Night? Well, now it's a blast thanks to our recent acquisition of Monopoly Jr. (Thank you Tricia and Marty!) It's too advanced for Drew, but it's just right for Clay, and it's perfect for the adults who enjoy the game, but don't want a huge time commitment. Highly recommended!

Mucho Magnus

If you haven't been to Magnus Patris lately, please head on over. Mike's started a top 10 of Pittsburgh that I'm enjoying. Even if he did out my Oram's habit

It's not all about the weather

An update: 3 degrees this morning. THREE DEGREES! The high is going to a balmy 17. And all of the area schools were on a two hour delay because of the temperatures. That’s right, PITTSBURGH has delayed school due to extreme COLD.

All of this would be fine, except that we have two boys under the age of five, and we were really, really, REALLY looking forward to taking Clay to preschool, and getting Drew some YMCA KidsGym time. But since school was delayed, preschool was closed, and the program was off at the Y. And we (or rather, Mike) had another cold day at home cooped up with the boys. I, however, sprinted to work. Because yesterday was nothing but a cacophony of “Stop that!” “Get off!” “Well, what did you think would happen?” “I’m counting to 3, and then it’s time out!” And truly, I hate it when we get impatient with the kids. They are boys after all, and they can’t help the testosterone surges (Clay’s preschool teacher once told me that 4 year old boys have up to 100 testosterone surges every 15 minutes). We really need to get them to an indoor play area whenever we can’t get them outside.

Sorry kids.

It's not all chaos, though. Clay and I have recently gotten into a very sweet Sudoku habit. It started when I found a glass Sudoku kit at Tuesday Morning. (Which, it turns out, is completely silly. What do you need the glass for? Just put the tiles directly on the grid!) Anyhoo, Clay pestered me for a few days to play it, and I would try to not roll my eyes at the thought of a 4 year old playing Sudoku with me. (Have I mentioned what a wonderfully relaxing, SOLITARY, game Sudoku is? Well it is. I even have a game for my phone so that I can play it in those rare moments when I am not at work and sans children.) But Clay's persistent, and he no longer forgets about things even if I conveniently 'misplace' them. He didn't want to do the kids' Sudoku that we found on a children's placemat. "I don't want the baby Sudoku. I want yours." So I relented. And truly, it's been a very nice way to end the day. We put Drew to bed at about 7:30, and then we'll pull out the Sudoku set. He sorts the tiles. I tell him where to place them. He'll say things like "Mommy, I'm afraid I'm out of sixes." So, I'll hand him some more sixes. I try to point out the logic in the game, and to remind him that he shouldn't guess, but those concepts are still a little too advanced. He's my little Sudoku helper. And I've found that it can be a relaxing game for two too.

We interrupt this previously scheduled season to bring you...

Sixty degree temperatures! Because of course, when you move to Pittsburgh and you purchase an entire preschool/toddler wardrobe of snow hats, boots, mittens, ski bibs, a couple of sleds and oh, what the hell... throw in some long underwear for Mom, it would naturally follow that Mother Nature has a freakish sense of humor. At least in my life, it does. So I'm really not sure why I was so surprised. Oh winter, where are you??

This is what I was thinking at the beginning of this week. Although it was warm, it sadly wasn't a "nyah nyah groundhog pbthbhthb!" sunny oasis kind of day. It was dreary and wet. So gray, in fact, that I resurrected my light box from last year's bought of pregnancy depression, and basked in the blue LED goodness at my desk. And then this morning... BAM! Winter returned. With 60 mph winds, and a high temp of 20 degrees. A few snow flurries, but still nothing we're able to bring out the sleds for.

Harumph!

Sweet FiOS

It took the Verizon guy SIX and a HALF hours, but we have FiOS! Can you smell it? That's the sweet scent of high definition cable channels. We just finished watching American Gladiators in high def (yes, I LOVE AG... that Wolf is crazy!), and now we can do cool things like look up the gladiators' real names because... wait for it... we also have an internet connection! Oh internet, how I missed thee...

Now I'm off to watch something that I couldn't see previously with our rabbit ears.

Clayton Millard Frank, 1911 - 2008

Tough weekend. We officially moved into our house last Friday, and then my grandfather died on Sunday. He had been in and out of the hospital for about 10 days, and he was in some pain. For some reason, I was convinced that he wasn’t going to die now. I thought he was too ornery. But after receiving a three day pain patch, he went peacefully that morning. Although I am tremendously sad to have lost him, and that I didn’t get to see him once more, I am relieved that he is no longer in pain and that he can be the kid at the family table again. Several years ago, before his sister died, he commented that he was running out of relatives. I’m now grandparent-less and I understand. Here’s what I said at his funeral:

Someone once told me that the reason there is a special bond between grandparents and grandchildren is because they are each closer to another life. It’s a reincarnationist’s theory, for sure. I wouldn’t go so far as to say that I follow that particular philosophy, but I do believe that the people who are special to us, those that really matter and have a tremendous impact on who we become, couldn’t be in our lives via random happenstance. Somewhere in the grand plan, the people who belong together find each other. This is why I believe that this man, Clayton Frank, was the perfect grandfather for me because he had the qualities that I needed to learn in order to become the person I am today.

Papa liked to work with his hands. He had a very nice workshop that he liked toodling around in. Many didn’t know that he owned a patent, on a clamp he developed while working at the Defense General Supply. Even though the clamp never went into production, I don’t think he cared. He just liked being inventive. He built a desk for me for school, and a wheelbarrow for my son Clay. Some projects turned out better than others. He seemed to always be working on a lawn mower. In college I rented a house with some friends, and he gave us a lawnmower to use. Unfortunately, to get it to start you’d have to do something crazy, like stand on one foot, stick out your tongue, lean WAYYYY over, and then pull the cord. It would cut half the lawn, die, and then we’d call him and he’d drive an hour to bring up another. He was always generous, with his time as well as his things. If you needed anything, you’d only have to ask. He taught me that being loyal and generous were better than anything else, and I’m grateful to him for many things, but for that especially.

Definitely not the most eloquent eulogy, and it certainly doesn't do justice to the man that he was, but I found myself speaking unexpectedly. The day before I had drafted something for the minister to read (also not the best thing I’d ever written, but hey, I was not in the best place emotionally), but it became clear at the gravesite that he couldn’t read what I wrote. He was also having a bad day, and the service he had just led was evidence to it. I didn’t want his bad day to turn my grandfather’s final day into crap. So Mike (bless him) asked the minister right then and there if he’d mind if I read what I wrote. He didn't. And I did.

I knew they served some purpose

Well, of course.

h/t Mopsy

Onward!

I’m pleasantly surprised that a few of you have missed me! How sweet! It’s very gratifying to hear from friends who enjoy these pedestrian musings of mine… thank you!!

Life is chugging along here in Pittsburgh. We’ve purchased a house, a 10 year old colonial in a good, but HUGE school district that is only 20 minutes from my work. We couldn’t be happier with a house even if we’d built it ourselves. Closing on the place was, of course, full of awkwardness. But so what else is new? Home sales and purchases for us always seem full of drama. No exceptions this time. Our seller’s husband died 5 years ago and for some reason even though the house was paid off, she took out a line of credit on it 2 years ago to build a smaller place in the neighborhood. Then, she put our house on the market, where it SAT for two years and four realtors. We’re not sure if she never got the price she expected for it, or what, but I guess when our offer came through in November, she took it. And from what we hear, it was much lower than the original asking price from two years ago. Fast forward a few weeks to closing, and I guess the sentimentality, regret, whatever all kicked in, and that coupled with the realization that she was getting hit with lots of fees for closing out her credit line, and she was one angry, sad woman. Tears were shed at the table, and she commented that she wanted her old life back. Awkward, awkward stuff. I was pretty depressed for her the rest of the evening (because I’m sure I’d be one ticked off, angry woman if something happened to Mike). I hope she’s doing better, and maybe selling this house will help her close a chapter in her life.

On to the schools… North Allegheny has really good schools, but it’s a monstrously huge district. So big, in fact, that they’ve split the high school in half. Ninth and Tenth graders go to an intermediate high school, and eleventh and twelfth graders attend a senior high school. We must have seen 50 houses between this district and the next one over that is much smaller, but ultimately the house materialized in North Allegheny. So, we’re going to have the most well adjusted average kids, and that’s just fine with us. Mike pondered the shock kids who are “big fish swimming in small ponds” must have when they go off to college, and I agree. Plus, in big schools there are always smaller groups in which Clay and Drew will find their niche.

We’ve spent the last two weeks having carpets replaced and rooms painted, and our officially move in is fast approaching. We’re all very excited!

Photo Ketchup

Pittsburgh's Light Up Night (yes it was very cold!)




Harry Potter Wanna Be



Let's get all of the snow shoveling out of him that we can. Before he figures out it's NO FUN!

We're homeless!

One month later, and here's the news: we're officially homeless. We dealt with probably the MOST difficult buyers ever, but fortunately the house has closed. Off to find a new place.

Extremely cold and windy here in P'burgh, but I suspect that I haven't seen nearly the worst of it yet!