Artwork to Soothe the Soul

 I should be writing about the Boston marathon. The bombing has caused panic and pain nationwide, including my own psyche. I can't think of many more events (other than the daily life in elementary school) that is hopeful, awe-inspiring and benevolent than a marathon and it is absolute SHIT that someone felt the need to set off explosives.

 Yet, I haven't wrapped my brain around what exactly I need/want to say. April is an emotional month for me as it is, and coupled with terroristic acts, the anniversary of Virginia Tech and my overbearing parental feelings: I am upset. We all are. Events like this make us question humanity and why we have to coexist with such madness.

 While I gather my thoughts and try to not belittle the events with sensationalism and trite sayings; let's just focus on the two drawings I have been meaning to scan for the past month. God Bless the survivors and God Bless the poor family that lost their little boy.

Ayla's recollection of having the stomach flu. The projectile vomiting is intense! 

Jackson's "definition" of love. 

A Honeymoon in Retrospect (Because It's Cold Outside)

 This unending winter weather (more like just getting serious) has pushed my thoughts into happier places. Warmer places. Ocean places. Relaxing places. Need your sunglasses places.

  Most specifically, cruise ships.

 It is a cruel trick to sit and endure cruise line commercials January through March, knowing that you are still years away from enjoying their majesty. The marketing offices are filled with geniuses: because it's just at that moment when you wake up to frost (again) and looking in the mirror confirms that you have lost every hint of a tan from last summer; that you are quite close to picking up the phone and booking a cruise regardless of finances and real life demands.

 See, I know that it's not practical, or remotely affordable, to bring three small children on a cruise. We have plans/dreams of going on a Disney cruise in the next couple of years. I keep saying "next year", but that may jinx us more than anything else, so I will stick with "in the near future". Our Disney card is racking up points with every grocery store purchase and someday we will book the vacation.

What else do people do when wearing lifevests?

The good ol' Panama Canal

 Our last cruise was our honeymoon in 2004. We sailed on the Carnival Paradise, perhaps the second most infamous boat in their line, after the sewage disaster Carnival Triumph was stranded at sea. Gregory recently discovered that our cruise was eventful enough to be described on Wikipedia. It was their last sailing as their only non-smoking ship, precisely because non-smoking ships generate less money. You can read about it here. Or I can just tell you about it.

 Exactly where do I begin? We left a day late because of hurricanes in Miami. Therefore we could not stop in Aruba. Carnival rewarded our misfortune with onboard credit. We weren't phased by the "bad" news (because, really, I acknowledge these are first world problems) because it was our honeymoon and YES! we were going on a cruise! So we sailed for about a week straight - through the Panama Canal and stopped in Acapulco. Then we hit rough waters in the Pacific and couldn't disembark at Cabo San Lucas. More onboard credit. Our last couple of days were extremely windy with warnings posted to stay indoors. And finally, upon arriving in Los Angeles - we get the voicemails telling us that storms and flooding in Pittsburgh had totalled both of our cars.

In Costa Rica

Still, the best tan of my life. 

Did someone says drinks?

 A trifecta of bad weather all around the western hemisphere. 

 So, our weather and luck could have been better - and in retrospect, our luck WAS better than some because our boat never caught fire and we never had to pee in buckets. We saw beautiful coasts in Mexico, went kayaking, hiked through the rainforest, read books in the sunshine, drank with the bartender at the pool, laughed at the onboard entertainment and cruised the world for two weeks. We were on our Honeymoon, for God's sake!

 You might think I am a nut job for speaking wistfully of this vacation: we missed half the places we wanted to see and learned our lesson about cruising in the off-season. But it was fun. I was cruising with the love of my life. It was exciting AND our fateful ship was notable enough to mention in the Carnival logbooks.

 Therefore: we can't wait to risk the open seas again! This time with three kids in tow. :)

Jackson-Isms

This guy has been "posing" all over the country. 

 I know I have been unforgivingly inconsistent. Just give me a few years and I will have all the time I need to devote to thoughtful writing and insight about life.

 Our man Jackson has been UP to a lot of antics lately. I can't blame him for being a complete weirdo, because, well, we encourage it. A lot. The stranger the comments, the harder we laugh. This post is dedicated to some of the more *interesting* moments we have had in the past few weeks. (Disclaimer: the use of the word "pito" will be frequent here. Please don't google it because I don't want to be responsible for what you find. Pito simply means... well, somebody's privates.)

 Here are some choice moments that deserve to be shared:

 During a routine drive back from the grocery store, Jackson started singing, "My little Pi-to, my little Pi-to, ahhh, ahhh, ahh ah" to the theme song from My Little Ponies. Perhaps I should not have laughed so hard because I think I have encouraged him to change many a songs' lyrics.

 While changing at the Y after swimming, Gregory caught Jackson looking at himself in the mirror and saying "My, what a beautiful pito." He then went on to say that about many of his other attributes. What I would do for that self confidence!

 And, finally, an embarrassing incident at good ol' Tim Horton's. We were walking back to our car, past the windows when Elliot stopped to wave goodbye to a little girl sitting inside. Aww, how cute, right? Elliot waves. The toddler waves back. I smile. Then Jackson sticks out his tongue and swipes his finger across his throat in that way that says, "You're dead" or "I am going to kill you." YEAH, I wasn't smiling anymore and I didn't wait to see if the little girl and her mother were smiling either. What the heck he was thinking, I don't know - maybe he thought it would be ironic? It's unexplainable and oddly predictable.

 That's the story of our 4 year old!

Vacation

Do you ever wonder what your kids remember from their early years? I recall trips to the grocery store, chasing the reflections of light on the floor. I remember meal time and playing with my Barbies and Jesus figurine. (You read that right!)

But when it comes to important moments: birthdays parties, vacations, "bonding activities", all of the events that make or break a childhood, what exactly do kids remember? Do you yourself remember random nuggets of vacations you took in your elementary years?

I loved our first trip to Disney World at six years old. But what sticks in my mind? Waiting in line for the Dumbo ride and taking an overnight train from Florida back to Pennsylvania.

Our roadtrip over winter break was certainly not Disney world caliber, but I thought it would at least be exciting to visit the sights of Washington D.C. Hearing Jackson talk about his recent ventures gives me some insight into what really is memorable to a 4 year old.

Me: Whose house did we visit on our trip:
J: Evie's?
Me: And?
J: Mimi's
Me: And?
J: Nano's.
Me: AND?
J: President Obama!

So yes, seeing the White House might be cool... but not as exciting as spending time with family. How's that for priorities?

Wii Madness

Something has clicked in Jackson's brain. It's one of those life lessons that we all encounter. The temptation is there... but will it overtake us? The desire to spend hour upon hour jumping through virtual hoops to win coins or mushrooms or Lego studs.

 It seems that Jackson has caught the bug and now hears in his head, "MUST. PLAY. VIDEO. GAMES." Or more specifically, "MUST. PLAY. DA. WII".

 A few months ago, he could not have been less interested in playing by himself. He was happy to watch Ayla play princess story games and participate if she was in a loving mood. We have suggested playing Wii sports together and he had a pretty successful first try at bowling.... but he could take it or leave it.

 The situation now is completely different. And I might mean that we have a real "situation" with learning limits and controlling serious Wii side effects. I haven't started an incentive program yet, trading chores for Wii play time - but I think it will soon be necessary. The biggest problem is that Jackson will wake up early in the morning and start up a round of Lego Star Wars before anyone else is awake. God only knows how long he has been standing there (sometimes in his pajamas, sometimes stark naked) when we rouse Ayla for school at 8:15.

 Jackson constantly asks to "play da wii". Driving in the car home from school, he completely loses his sh%t if we have to stop at any store before going home. He would much prefer to run into the house, throw his backpack on the floor and stand in his coat and shoes for HOURS while slaying storm troopers with his lightsaber. (What's the problem, Mom?)

 Describing it as standing is not even a good description. He moves closer and closer to the screen, flailing the Wii remote around, jumping, bouncing back and forth and lunging and yelling. And yes, there is even the occasional maniacal laugh.

 While I am impressed by how good he has become at his Lego games (mostly Star Wars, but also the odd moments of Indiana Jones or Batman), I don't like the intensity. For awhile, Jackson didn't understand that turning off the television did not affect his place in the game. He was okay with pausing. He was okay with putting down the remote. But if we tried to turn off the screen - God help us all! Panicked tears and screams and terror. Many a time out has been spent over hitting, sticking out the tongue and going temporarily insane.

 And here is rock-bottom: one night I woke up with Elliot at around 4 am. Who did I see playing the Wii in the pitch dark of night? One lanky little guy with messed up hair. It was like a possession because when I told him it was time to get back in bed... he climbed right up the stairs and was asleep as soon as he was back on his pillow.

 Poor man. I understand it. How amazing was your first game system? We only had three games for our Nintendo and that totally rocked my world! I remember fighting for my turn and how traumatized I became if *perhaps* a certain older brother covered my eyes during Level 11 of Tetris.

 But now I am the parent dealing with the daily battle of limiting the Wii. I have to be honest: it is sometimes SO tempting to just let him keep playing because it could literally give me hours of uninterrupted sewing time or the ability to make dinner in peace. I am happy, though, that we are a family with ONE television and we are therefore forced to take turns (Elliot needs his Elmo, you know!) and not let anyone get sucked into a technology black hole.

 But then again, if I don't wake up at 4 in the morning, how do I know Jackson is really sleeping or just battling with droids in a galaxy far, far away?

An Artists' Anger

 Rolling with the theme of disgruntled girls and strong emotions, let me share a recent "gift" from Ayla. These notes and pictures are the result of discipline. Our daily goal in this house is to get the kids to listen to each other, stop screaming, stop pushing, stop calling names (okay, that goes for me and Gregory too!).

 I can't remember the specifics of what Ayla was being disciplined for... but the general idea is that when we tell her anything in terms of changing behavior she turns the anger at herself. These writings were instructions on all of the ways we could punish her for not being nice. A child services disclaimer: we didn't heed any of her advice.

 What's a parent to do? Congratulate her on putting her thoughts into words, and then writing them down with barely any spelling errors? :) As with most episodes, this was smoothed over in a relatively short period of time and our little girl was back to drawing pictures of happy princesses.

Old Feelings Never Die

 This post is about dreams. About feelings. About adolescence and adulthood. About those undercurrents of emotions that never quite drift away. How we relive the same universal fears, manifested in many different ways.

 Deep. Very deep.

 It might be a by-product of parenting three small children and the lack of long, uninterrupted periods of sleep... but I don't dream nearly as much as I used to. My brain might be too sluggish to recollect anything during the night. When I do dream, the scenario can be lumped into the following categories: packing/unpacking nightmares, zombie apocalypse, running in high heels or hurt feelings.

 And hurt feelings is always the scariest one!

 First, let me explain the other categories. Packing and unpacking. I think these dreams are divine messages from God to just throw stuff away and stop hoarding. But I never listen. These dreams always involve frustrating scenarios like packing for a vacation and always coming back to my suitcase to find things missing or thrown in a pile of dirty laundry. Or someone telling me I have to evacuate my house and I cannot find even one pair of shoes or any photo albums. These dreams are maddening.

 Zombie apocalypse. (Coincides with poor "happy sleeping" TV choices like American Horror Story or The Walking Dead.) Now it isn't always a matter of flesh-eating zombies, but of the inability to keep the doors and windows of my house protected. Many of these dreams involve real people trying to break into my house, and I think all of the windows are closed and doors locked, but I keep realizing I have forgotten one padlock or one basement window. Needless to say, these are ridiculously creepy. But in my most recent zombie dream, we had nestled ourselves in a safe place with a backyard filled with animals: ducks, goats and some unnecessary jungle cats. I will also take this as a divine message: must own farm animals someday.

Running in high heels. I am not joking: this is a recurring theme. I am either trying to catch a bus and cannot move faster than a snail or I am tripping over myself on a stony alley. But I am always in the wrong shoes. The good news is that these dreams are not as recurrent now that I wear high heels about twice a year. Take that, corporate ladder!

 Now, for the kicker, hurt feelings. I think this dream will speak volumes to any woman, about the twisted relationship antics that we grew up with in our formative years. Men don't have it easy either, but I think their issues are often solved with simple fist fights and name calling.

 I recently dreamt that one of my friends here in Buffalo (and I really only have a few!) was "talking about me behind my back". You know, that hellish activity. I had her over to my house, she stole something from me and then told all our other friends that I had done THAT to her. And they all believed her. I was frantic in my dream; screaming for people to believe me and absolutely devastated that there was nothing I could say to change their opinions. As a grown woman - married, educated and responsible for small people - I could not handle being jilted by friends. I woke up terribly devastated.

 What does that say? I fear mean words more than zombies? I would rather hoard than have a fight with a friend? All I know is that my dream mirrored my real life experience as an 11 year old. I had a friend who totally sold me out to avoid getting in trouble. We had both done something stupid, wrote a mean note, and got busted for it. I was grounded. My friend, however, lied to her parents and said that I forged her name on the note. And her parents bought it.

 I will always remember the shock I felt that night. I forgot all about the shame of being a mean girl myself, and could not believe that my friend had blamed me for everything. And even more so, that her parents were that gullible. It was not a thought process I could have imagined on my own.

 This must sound pathetic. Imagine how someone feels being wrongfully accused of a crime! How about the women who find out their husbands have second families? I certainly didn't have a fairy tale life up to that point, but for some reason, that incident was my first glimpse into the darkness of humanity. How we all really care about our own interests above anything else. That was the first time I really felt betrayal. And loneliness. And helplessness. Yikes.

 My point? Old Feelings Never Die. These experiences shape us and our actions shape others. And they revisit us in dreams. Whether we are terrified of zombies climbing in the windows or being buried under our own shoe collection... it is sometimes the stuff of life that stays with us for years. Having a friend lie about you to save their own skin.  Ouch.