PractiGal

Aquatic Adventures

Thank you to everyone who visited and sent a card to Alyssa! I will definitely be posting updates as they appear in the local media. I'm sure this teacher never expected this kind of response to her request!

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Is it just me? or is it too hot to blog?

What it's not to hot for: any place with air conditioning;  Season 4 of Monk on DVD;  swim lessons for tots.

I don't know if I've mentioned that we're taking our son to a weekly swim class. We are. And this weekend, I realized that I'm one of those mothers. The kind the instructors talk about behind  backs. The kind they secretly clench their teeth at. That's me.

There are two classes for the itty-bitty people at the Y; there's one for the 6-36 month set, and one for 2-5 year olds. Hmm. Overlap. I figured since my son is 28 months, and this is his first class, we'd go for the first one. Both meet at the same time anyway, and the lady at the desk told me the instructors would move the kids to the different levels as needed.

In the first two sessions,  all the kids were in one big group. A dozen or so kids. Splish-splashing, kicking, singing, jumping in from the side,  blah, blah.

Cut to the third class. They called off names (per the sign-up rosters) and had the kids  and parents split into the two groups. We went to the grouping for 6-36mo., where the "group" consisted of our very large 2-year old and a 10-month old baby. That was it. So on the other side of the pool, the kids were splashing, kicking, laughing, singing, and jumping. On our side?  No offense to 10-month olds, but they're still kind of in the blob stage. So I tried to single-bodily mimic the activity that was going on over yonder. See? This is how we kick! See? These are scoops. See? This is how we sing The Wheels on the Bus very loudly to make up for the fact that we're in such a small group that you can't really call it a group.

Anyway, my son didn't do much that day. There were no other kids nearby for him to watch and imitate. The teacher gave instructions but barely got his torso wet; hence my full-immersion strategy.

So my husband and I decided we'd stick with the big group for the next class. And we did. And it was better. But our son? Does not know how to jump. I'm not quite sure how this came to be, but he doesn't quite get the lift-both-feet-off-the-ground-at-the-same-time concept. So, when they have the kids jump in from the edge of the pool, our son steps in and holds on to us.  They're encouraging the kids to jump in without any help from Mom and Dad. Other than that, I'd say the little guy is on par with the other little swimmers in the 2-5 group.

As rebels, we blended in just like any other family, til the teacher came around with the clipboard, asking for names. Shoot. She'd know we were part of the "other" group.  Sure enough, when she didn't see the little guy on the list, I explained that we had been in the baby group the previous week and that he did so much better with the large group. She said nothing. But she had The Look on her face.

You know. The Who Do You Think You Are Taking Matters Into Your Own Hands look?

For the rest of class, we were determined to show how our boy was one of the big little kids.

Wow! Great kicking!

Look at you blowing bubbles!

Great job jumping in! (OK, so not really, but we will be practicing the art of The Jump this week.)

So, it's official. I'm one of those Moms. I've been branded.

Sue me.

A special request

Today, I'm taking a break from my usual nonsense posts, to share a special request.

Haven't we all received forwarded e-mails that we believed were bogus, despite the fact that they tugged at our hearts?

Here's one I received this week, that's not bogus. It's for real;  it's about a little girl in the Rochester, NY area. You can read about it in our local paper, here and here. This sweet little girl's birthday is August 2, 2006 -- one week from today, and her teacher is asking people to send cards.  I sent her a birthday card and hope that some of my readers will do the same. And yes, this is OK with her mother!

Hi Friends, Family, Colleagues and Random People who got on my email list!

As many of you are aware, this past school year one of my kindergartners, Alyssa Bruno, was diagnosed with diffuse pontine glioma (stem cell brain tumor).  She had a successful year of kindergarten, but took a dramatic turn for the worse at the end of the school year.  As of now she has lost all movement in her left side and can't walk or talk. She has been on five different chemotherapy treatments and continues to be a little trooper! Everyone is praying that this upcoming week's dose of chemo will show some signs of improvement.

On August 2nd Alyssa will be celebrating her 6th birthday.  I've been thinking for a long time about what to get for her, but she is very limited with what she can do right now.  One thing Alyssa LOVES is to get mail. So I thought I'd email everyone on my list and ask for you all to please consider sending Alyssa a birthday card with a penny enclosed for good luck!. I am going to have Alyssa collect them in a jar as a reminder of all the people who are out there praying for her. How neat would that be for Alyssa to receive cards from all over the country and perhaps the world!  I'd love it if you all could also forward this message to everyone on your list. (I'm not a fan of chain letters, but this would really make Alyssa's day and brighten her spirits!)

I know how busy everyone is these days, but sending a card to this little girl would give her a little something to look forward to each day when she gets the mail.

I've attached a few pictures so that you can put a face with the name!  She's a cutie!  Please, forward this along to anyone who you think might send a card.

Thank you so much,
Marcy Mooney - Alyssa's teacher


mailing address:

Alyssa Bruno Birthday Cards
Federation of Social Workers
167 Flanders Street (D-12)
Rochester, NY 14619
USA

Goodnight... Donald?

The Donald doll's little plastic life was in jeopardy, with daily exposure to my 2-year old.  So, I hid him a couple weeks ago (the doll, not my son!).

Today, the doll was found.

And here is what I heard before naptime, with The Donald clutched tightly in my running son's arms:

"Rock-a-bye Donald Trump
On a tree top
When the wind blows
The cradle will rock
When the bough breaks
The cradle will fall
And down will come Donald Trump
Cradle and all."

Then, the doll was thrown into the crib.

"Goodnight Donald Trump!"

I . Kid. You. Not.

Nice to meet your list, Craig!

Having done a bit of eBaying, I knew that someone out there would be selling the primo car seat I wanted to upgrade to, for my very large toddler. Since I had forked out the big bucks for one new seat from this company already, I decided I was willing to go for "gently used" and spend a lot less money on this purchase.  I had researched the recall history on the model I wanted, so I knew what I was looking for. I looked around on eBay and found that the used seats were going for a good coin, and $30 shipping and handling seemed to be the going rate. My reaction? Ouch.

I figured that surely someone in my quasi-metropolitan area must have one of these seats to sell. One that I could see in person and pick up, skipping the whole shipping and handling fee.

Enter Craigslist. I'd never posted there before, but I decided why not? It's free. I had nothing to lose.  My hubby's had some luck using our local Craigslist edition, so I gave it a try too. I posted a "wanted" notice in the morning, and by evening the same day, I had a response. Someone in my very own burb had the seat I wanted for a fair price.

I went. I saw.

He sat. And I bought.

Just like that.

And? We discovered that our sons are 2 weeks apart in age. And she's a part-time working Mom too, who'd like a playmate for her son! We talked schedules and such and would both like to get together so the kids can play.  And then? She invited me to a Pampered Chef party... which I politely declined. But still -- how cool is that?

This Internet thing? I think it's going to catch on. And that Craig guy is alright!

It wasn't exactly Jurassic Park

Last night my family and I visited what may be the world's only ice cream/ dinosaur/ makeshift train/ and burger joint. I'd read some recommendations for it in the local what-to-do-with-kids listings.  It sounded like a unique place, so we thought it was worth a visit. Unique is the right word. And while our 2-year-old enjoyed himself (he also has fun with a cardboard box), my hubby and I are in no hurry to go back.

It was late afternoon, so we beat the dinner crowd and ordered some food  before heading out back for the "train" ride. Though, in retrospect, I'd be surprised if they ever have a dinner crowd, after having the full experience.  Anyway, since they were short on real customers, I asked how many they needed to run the train. A man informed me that they needed one person; otherwise he'd just be driving the train around by himself. Fair enough!

It was obviously a family-run business, with all the employees and most of the people in the customer seats chatting as though they were sitting at home around the fireplace. I'm cool with that -- I like supporting local family-owned businesses. But this one didn't give you a warm and fuzzy feeling; it was more of a heebie jeebie feeling.

I sat and waited for our food - a hotdog, a grilled cheese, and a chicken sandwich - while hubby took the little guy for a walk outside. I waited and waited.

And then waited some more.

I took a peek in the "back" and didn't see any activity. Who was cooking our food?

Then I noticed a door leading to another back room, off the back room. I figured the grill was in there.

I sat in the small dining room, with the crayons and paper that were out for my son, and I colored while listening to the conversation and music.  I'm pretty sure there were three generations of the family slowly milling about, catching up with each other. Verrry slowly.

After at least 20 minutes, I asked about our food. The woman who had taken our order thought it was the hotdog that was taking so long.  They must have a secret dog-in-a- slow-cooker recipe that I'm not familiar with.

But the food appeared shortly thereafter, and we hoovered, well aware of the weird vibe in the place. On the plus side, for my son: his first chance to enjoy full-strength juice.  After each  sip, he announced that it was "dewicious!" Between that and his very own ice cream cone, he was sold on the place, weird vibe or not.

We bought tickets for the "train" ride and headed to the back of the property to board. The woman who took our food order and scooped our ice cream headed back too, to drive the train. Mmm hmm.

We only bought one adult ticket, so I was the lucky one to ride with the little guy into the forest for a tour of the land of the dinosaur. One other family showed up, so it was a very small group on the train.

The "train" was pretty cute. My husband pointed out after the ride that the its engine was actually a forklift, with an oil barrel on top of it. The cars were made from industrial carts, and had a ricketiness to them that might have worried me, had we been traveling above our top speed of 1 mph. The train didn't travel on a track either; it drove on pavement. Every few feet it jerked to an awkward stop, and our hostess/fountain lady / train conductor named the dinos and told us something about them. The dinos didn't make any sounds, they just stood there, among the trees and weeds. It was different, to say the least.

If you're planning a trip to upstate New York and are looking for things to do with kids? Don't go out of your way to visit the ice cream/ dinosaur/ makeshift train/ burger joint. There are lots of wonderful places to visit with kids. We have a ton of great parks, zoos, and the newly expanded Strong Museum / National Museum of Play (which I can't wait to visit!). And be sure to save room for some of the best frozen custard on the planet.

We're havin' a potty!

"Mommy, I need a clean diaper!"

Say what?

He's telling me that he needs a new diaper?! And sure enough, he did need a clean one.

This is a sign, no? A sign that it's time for me to start learning about potty training.

Has anyone out there in blog-land done the "Dr. Phil method" of potty training? I'm sure it's not his own patented technique, but it's where I first heard the suggestion of getting an anatomically correct doll that wets.

I already know what underwear I'll be buying him.

And? I know what I'll be buying myself with the money I'm not spending on diapers!

This is exciting and kind of intimidating all at once!

Tips, anyone?

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On a completely unrelated note...

Following our recent monsoon and insanely humid weather, it is a complete jungle outside -- with all things green and gardeny growing in a wild frenzy.

This means that my lawn-obsessed neighbor is in her glory. This is her moment to shine. As I write this, she is outside, just a few feet from my window, iPod firmly planted on her body, bellowing along to her music at the very top of her lungs. Have I mentioned how bad her singing is? And there are even hand motions today. 

And I? Don't have any blank videotape.

DAMN!

Grocery store observations

Scene 1: Before leaving home

She:  Here's the grocery list -- want to add anything?

He:  (Reviews list. Focuses on one item.) Yes. I'd like some of those super huge maxi pads. The ones with wings.

She:  Extra long?

He: Yes. The 747s. The jumbo jets.

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Scene 2: The Produce section

As I picked up a bag of potatoes, I noticed a new display interspersed with the spuds.  There were large pots and potato peelers scattered among the potatoes.  In case you were looking at the potatoes, thinking "if only I had a peeler to peel them and a pot in which to cook them..." 

Huh.

I'm no marketing wizard, but if you didn't have a peeler or a pot, do you think you'd be looking at the potato display in the first place?

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Scene 3:  The aisles I tried to avoid

Mean Lady with two kids in racecar shopping cart:  "This thing is too long! If you two don't cut it out, you're going to wait in the car." (which is probably 120 degrees in this weather)

Me to Mean Lady:  How about if you go bake in the car, Mean Lady? You know, you're the one making a scene here -- not the kids.

OK, so I didn't say it outloud, but dammit I wanted to. And no, she wasn't just a nice lady having a bad day. You could tell by the perma-scowl engraved on her face that she was just not a nice person.

Banana Shake recipe

Do you ever wonder what to do with your too-ripe bananas?  (Besides use the peels for fun pranks and kitchen floor games...)  In the winter time, I use them to make banana bread. And all year long, I peel and freeze my overdone bananas, so that I have them on-hand for banana shakes -- a yummy treat any day of the year. (To prevent peeled bananas from turning brown in the freezer, wrap them first in plastic wrap, and then in foil.) These are sooo good and good for you, too!

Banana Shake recipe
2 frozen bananas
1 cup milk*
1 cup vanilla yogurt *
dash nutmeg &/or cinnamon

Place frozen banana chunks in blender;  add other ingredients. Blend/puree/frappe til banana chunks are mostly gone.  Serve immediately, with straws.

Makes 2 tall glasses.

* I use skim milk and fat-free yogurt -- and the shakes are delicious! My son asks for "bana shakes" all the time!

No wooden nickels here...

The drive-thru window is my friend. At the bank; the library; the pharmacy -- I frequent the drive-thru window. It's not that I'm lazy, but there are times when it's more convenient to conduct business from the driver's seat of my car. Like when I have my toddler strapped into his car seat, or when the weather is nasty. Or both, as was the case yesterday.

Lucky for me, I live in what may be the Drive-Thru Capital of western New York. Not only is my town's library equipped with the first full-service drive-up window in the state, you can also drive-thru for large quantities of beverages at one retailer, and I've even been with a friend who's gone to a drive-up window for a  lottery ticket. (Drive-thru gambling -- is that scary or what?)

Anyway, no one at our house (read: me) felt like cooking yesterday, so we decided to redeem a gift certificate I got for my birthday last year (thank you Kristi!). We ordered take-out from a fantabulous Italian restaurant. Interestingly, the building that houses this restaurant has served many purposes in its life --  it was a bank, once upon a time. Since then, it's been a bagel shop, and then a donut shop, before morphing into a terrific little Italian restaurant. Why is this interesting? Through each transformation, this building has maintained a key feature: its drive-thru window. That's right. We have an lovely little Italian restaurant with a drive-thru window for take-out. Is that the best, or what?

We headed out, all three of us, to run a couple of errands and then pick up our Incredible Italian food.  Wouldn't you know, there was a line at the drive-thru; apparently I wasn't the only person who didn't feel like cooking yesterday. We sat and waited. It's very rare that both my husband and I are present for the pick-up, as it's usually an either/or proposition. So, we had a conversation that was a first for us: whether or not to tip on take-out.

Me? Apparently, I'm the cheapest of the cheap. I've never tipped for take-out. My hub informed me that he gives a tip when he picks up Thai take-out. Hmm. Back-and-forth we went... to tip, or not to tip.

Finally, it was our turn at the window, where a small sign was posted: "Tips are greatly appreciated!" OK, so we know what their expectations are! We continued with our conversation -- then, how much to tip? We're usually 20% tippers (admittedly, I was a 15%er before meeting my husband, who got all over me for being cheap), but we settled on 10% for take-out at this fine little establishment.

How about you? Do you tip for take-out food at non-fast-food restaurants? Is anyone else a drive-thru fiend, like me?

A snapshot at 28 months

When did this happen? Weren't we just feeding you mush in your bouncy seat? And guiding your chubby legs with your walker toys? In the blink of an eye, you've gone from toddler to little boy.

The high chair has been cleaned and put away. You prefer to sit on a plain old chair at the table. We prefer to have you on your booster seat, where we can strap you in.  (If your auntie is reading this -- yes, I'm still all about containment parenting when I can get away with it, thankyouverymuch.)

You went to your first swim class the other day. You tried to walk away when all the other kids were jumping from the side into their parent's arms. But by the end of class, we had to drag you from the water, you liked it so much.

You have your very own tricycle now, too. It was your cousins'.  It won't be long til you have the pedaling and steering down, and we'll be running even faster after you, down the sidewalk!

When other kids are hogging the toys, you stand by--  not quite understanding the whole possessive thing yet. And (so far) you share without hesitation. You're a mighty nice little boy, most of the time. Naturally, I'm more than a little biased, but I am very proud of you, way more often than not.

At bedtime, you sing Rock-a-bye Baby and Happy Birthday to every toy, person, and thing you can think of. All at the top of your lungs...  which seems to defeat the whole purpose of a lullaby. But even so, it works. You're a champion sleeper, and for that we are sooo grateful.

You're talking more and more each day. Lately you answer "of course" instead of yes, and I cringe to admit that you're in a bit of a Valley Girl phase now, with "no WAY" being one of your favorite retorts. Oy.

You looove your rides in Daddy's truck ("cruck"), and you're always asking to go to the "library play trains? please?"

I'm wondering how long the fascination with your mouth will last. It's been, oh, 28 months now. Besides the butter, you still explore by putting lots of things in your mouth that don't belong there. Today you licked a kitchen cupboard and the dishwasher. Ewww. If this is your way of marking your territory, I surrender. Yes, this is your home; we all agree on that.

And about that ice cream truck. Yes, that's what it is. We haven't told you yet, and we're hoping you don't figure it out any time soon. It comes by our house twice each day, and as far as you know, it's just a neat little truck that goes up and down the street, ringing a bell.

Soon enough you'll be chasing that truck on a regular bike, and your Mom's not ready to think about that yet!

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Your sweet cousin F is 3 years old today, July 10th!  She's exactly 8 months older than you. We love you sweetie F!  Happy Birthday!