Maya Catching Butterflies

Hello, friends. Good Monday afternoon to you all!

I don't know where the time has gone for all of a sudden the start of the 2011-2012 school year is drawing near. I can't say that I'm sad about this because I'm actually excited for the girls to begin anew. This summer has had its ups and downs and mostly I attribute the 'downs' to my lack of planning. I over scheduled the girls in the late afternoons and had absolutely nothing for them to do during the mornings and early afternoons.

I've worked during the morning and afternoons leaving my girls to fend for themselves, only emerging briefly to prepare snacks and meals, otherwise I was involved in daily conference calls and working feverishly to meet deadlines. Did I tell you that in Direct Mail, the mail never stops. NEVER. While I was pounding away on the computer writing and reviewing direct mail materials, my girls were off cranking up the Phinneas and Ferb music and jumping on the sofa in the family room, which by the way, is strictly verboten. But it's hard to enforce the rules when my face is buried in my work.

Additionally, Alex continues to be a rascal. I get so darned angry with her until I have time to sit quietly and truly reflect on where I believe her hostility is coming from. I think I've found the answer. Alex will be starting kindergarten soon and I'm positive that the approaching school year has caused her much anxiety. I can't say that I don't feel for her to some extent, but mostly I want her to come to terms with the fact that school will be fun, exciting, full of surprises and new friendships and new teachers and new playground and a new routine and all that good stuff. I want her to understand that listening to Phinneas and Ferb all day while jumping on the sofa isn't as much fun as kindergarten. HA! Try telling this to a five year old right?

Meanwhile, my first born, Sammy, is turning eight tomorrow. She is beyond giddy and for days now she's been screeching, "Can you believe it, mom? I'm going to be eight!" I can believe it alright and this occasion tugs at my heart a wee little bit. I still remember when I brought this baby... this baby, this Samantha baby home for the first time. I had no idea what I was going to do with her. She was snugly and wiggly and pink and scary. She made foreign noises. Her face contorted into what could not be described as any facial expression I was familiar with. I didn't know if she was, mad, or glad or sad or afraid or anything. When I asked other parents, more experienced parents, what she was trying to convey with a puckered O shaped mouth, they'd say, "She's hungry," or they'd say, "She's constipated." It took me days to figure out the difference between a hungry face and a constipated face, but soon I got it.

Now this tiny baby is a moderate sized eight year old, and I'm still learning what some of her facial expressions mean. Sometimes, there's the ubiquitous rolling of the eyes which totally means the same thing in all languages, Whatever. And then there's the blank stares out into nothingness that I think means, she's bored, or she's got something on her mind, or she's reflecting. I don't know which, but every day I'm learning.

Now summer is coming to an end and I'm closing the book on this chapter of my life. I'm now parent to, a kindergartner and a third grader. Oh what challenges are in store for me, only time will tell.

Last week when Alex was in gymnastics, her coach came and sat down beside me and said the following, "Alex is a hard worker when she wants to be. Mostly she's off in her own little world doing her own thing... she's catching butterflies. Now this isn't a bad thing, she just needs to focus sometimes." This news was unsettling for me to hear. I don't want coaches or teachers for that matter, telling me that my child isn't focused. I took the information with calm and just chewed on it a bit. In the end, I had to admit something that I've known all along about myself, and that is, I too am unfocused... catching butterflies. Could it be that my girls have inherited this trait? Be that as it may, I don't think of it as a negative, only a small opportunity for improvement. We all sometimes need to make adjustments, large and small, in order to move forward in life a better person. I guess this is something me and my girls will have to work at, focusing.

Friends, you have been so incredibly kind coming to this blog to read about my rascals and all the silly things we do as a family. I'm moving on now to a different space that I think might be better suited for my personality. I hope you'll join me there: Maya Catching Butterflies. Maybe this new blog will help me along my journey toward becoming a better, more focused person. I hope to see you there.

Five Year Old

Suddenly my adorable youngest offspring has turned into a stark raving angst ridden teenager. How did this happen? She’s only five years old. Often times I feel more like I’m aiming to break a horse rather than raise a child. I know it’s a horrible thing to say, comparing my own little girl to a wild horse, but I said it and now its out there, sort of like when a cat hacks up a hairball, it just gets to hacking and despite the pitiful stares, there’s not much it can do but continue hacking until the hairball is up and out. So I guess that’s where I am. I’ve already put the words out there so I might as well hack out the rest.

 

Anyway, as I was saying, I’m breaking a horse instead of raising a five year old. We have our battles, Alex and I, about ten times a day and in the end, I can’t tell you who won, we both walk away dissatisfied. When our arguments finally come to a halt, Alex clomps her hooves angrily as she heads off in the opposite direction all the while pouting her lips with arms folded tightly at her chest like she’s trying to muffle the rage. I too trot off, eyes filled to the brim with tears, unblinking to avoid wetting my cheeks.

 

Alex is a tough one alright. To be so little she sure knows how to hurt me with single-syllabic words. The word ‘NO!’ can be awfully cutting when proclaimed with a growl and whinny. ‘NO!’ coming out of the mouth of a five year old is like a Ginzu knife running through a tomato, so quick, so effective – tomato juice running out onto the cutting board – talk about a pitiful sight. And when that knife punctures me, those hurtful proclamations and the hoof stomping, there is not a trace of tomato juice, instead the only thing coming out of me are etch-a-sketch threats like, “Don’t even think about watching Sunday morning cartoons, because you’re not getting any!” Then, come Sunday morning, there she is plopped down in front of the TV, engrossed. I stand there, etch-a-sketch in hand, shaking it vigorously like a danged fool.

 

When I was pregnant with my oldest, adorable offspring, I envisioned myself raising my child by way of clever eastern philosophical riddles like for instance, “There there my child, a wanderer can only find truth once they have traveled a great distance.” Then my child would look at me, confused, too confused in fact to respond, but then, as a young adult -- after the first major disappointment in her life -- my child would come back to me illuminated, “Mother! You were right. Now I see what you were trying to teach me all along. You are so wise!” Then I would smile a knowing smile, and that would be that. I would be right, and there wouldn’t be any arguing the fact. Instead, most every day since getting into the business of mothering these two adorable offspring, the familiar voice in my head reminds me, “But Maya, you ain’t got no wisdom.” And then I skulk about plotting more realistic methods of mothering; none of which seem to be working.

 

Perhaps threatening isn’t the right approach. Maybe the way to break a horse is sticking to whatever punishment I’ve hacked-up and take the etch-a-sketch out of the picture entirely. Or, maybe threats and punishments are altogether wrong? I haven’t tried horse whispering – could it be that this horse responds better when coaxed with a few sugar cubes? All I know is that I’m tired. I’m tired of the battles. Where the hell is Gandalf when you need him?

 

On a happier note, I’m back from vacation (I know, what a subject change). I’ll share images from our trip later this week.

Random Summer

We are plowing through summer with back and forth trips to gymnastics, the library, dentists appointments, birthday parties, swimming and so much more, and now the sun is shining and our little corner of the world is finally warm. And I say warm because I know most of the U.S. is suffering under oppressive 100+ degree weather which makes me very thankful to be living in the great state of Washington.

I really dislike all the back to school commercials I'm seeing and hearing because it seems premature. Summer really just started... so it seems. Mistakenly, I over scheduled my children this summer and it's only now slowing down to a comfortable rhythm.

Here are a few camera phone pictures from the past couple of weeks. As you've probably already guessed, most of which are of food.

Last week Sammy had two teeth pulled to help with the overcrowding. She did such a good job even though she was super nervous about going under the knife. She's a very brave girl and her reward, bowls and bowls of ice-cream. :)

And here is the reason why wearing a bikini isn't such a good idea for me - Root Beer Float belly.

There's my scary thumb.

Yesterday Alex was on the receiving end of two vaccinations. She smiled the entire time and her only complaint was that the Band-Aid kept falling off. The pediatrician's office is a few blocks from Trophy Cupcake and it's a tradition that after vaccinations, the girls get to feast on cupcakes. Alex chose the Neapolitan and Sammy, the Mint Chocolate Chip. After cupcakes we headed home and on the drive home, Alex said to Sammy, "The only reason why I did so well getting the shot was because you were there." Awe. I was thrilled to hear nice words being exchanged given my children usually can't wait to bust one another at every turn. The constant tattling and the "she hit me, and she snatched that" all day long is maddening.

I never imagined that I'd have a picture like this on my blog. I went with a friend to a tattoo parlor where she was getting her nose re-pierced. I have been contemplating a tattoo despite the grimaces I get whenever it comes up in conversations. If I were to get one, know that it will be discreet; something small, something cute. Trust me, if I were to get a tattoo, I'd also treat myself to a Trophy Cupcake afterwards because I hear getting a tattoo hurts like the dickens!!

Years ago I wanted to get a tattoo of a turtle just slightly above my hip bone, but a very wise friend told me that, "...in a few years, that turtle will look like a hippopotamus." Best darn advice I'd ever received because that friend was right. Refer back to my Root Beer Float comment. 

Summertime Books for the Kiddos

We are back from our trip to the ocean where we spent a good part of our time being tourists visiting gift shops, playing on the beach burying ourselves (mostly Alex) in sand, running in and out of ice cold ocean water (mostly Sammy), eating watermelon and ice-cream, drinking Italian sodas, swimming in the pool, listening to firecrackers pop, watching magnificent firework displays. Later this week, if time permits, I hope to bring you images from our trip, but until then, I have books to share with you.

We've been hitting the library each week bringing home as many books as our tired Volvo can carry. Each week we are delighted to find a few titles that have a slightly different take on the traditional. The Library Gingerbread Man goes along much as the original story does, but instead this Gingerbread Man emerges from the pages of a book instead of an oven. He jumps along the stacks running into all sorts of characters. When the Gingerbread Man runs past a Thesaurus the Thesaurus demands, "Stop! Cease! Halt! Freeze! Stay!" The Gingerbread Man responds as we would expect, "... you can't catch me, I'm the gingerbread man." The Gingerbread Man continues running, escaping a Robot, Jesse Owens, and many more characters from the various sections of the library. You'll have to read the story to find out if the Gingerbread Man is outsmarted by the fox.

Rapunzel and the Seven Dwarfs: A Maynard Moose Tale is just about as quirky as any story I've ever read. I'm a bit of an oddball so I instantly fell in love with this bizarre tale. The first time I read it to my girls they both agreed that they didn't care for it, but after only a few hours they were begging to hear it again, and then again, and then again. It is hilarious! The story is told by Maynard Moose who uses Moose vocabulary and a voice that is just as wacky as the story. Rapunzel is 'Punzel' and the handsome prince is 'chubified' and therefore can't climb the tower to rescue her. There are 8 or 9 seven dwarfs and a poison watermelon. It's all very exciting and very comical and I can't wait to read more Moose Tales! Oh, and there's a handy dictionary at the start of the book to help you with the Moose language.

Rock & Roll Marathon 2011

You're probably looking at the above picture and wondering what month it is. Well, let me assure you that it is indeed late June, but we're still wearing our coats because even though the calendar says June, it feels like October.

I woke up on Saturday morning around 4:00, with butterflies in my stomach. I lay in bed with my eyes open listening to Jon race around the house as he was getting ready for the Seattle Rock & Roll Marathon. My role in all of this was to make sure the girls were up by 5:30, dressed and ready for when the cab would arrive to pick us at 6:30 -- Jon had left much earlier. We did not want to be late because the girls were invited by the American Cancer Society to hold the finish line tape for the first place winner of the 1/2 marathon.

We arrived at the finish line long before anyone else aside from marathon staffers, the media and photographers. Security was in full force making sure the folks with access could get through the barricades and considering we weren't staff, media or photographers I worried that they wouldn't let us through. I told security that my girls would be holding the finish line tape and they gladly let us in giving us full access to everything. I made a point to stand with the photographers trying my best to look official.

Since it was so early, there wasn't much to do so I snapped a few pictures.

When it came time for the first 1/2 marathoner to come through the finish line a flurry of activity ensued. The first order of business was to unroll the finish line tape and position it precisely at 13.1 miles. Then we were given the news that the girls would not be holding the tape and that it would be ME holding it instead. The girls were too short as the tape needed to be held at the waist. I was disappointed that the girls didn't get a chance to do their job, but they really didn't seem to care. Holding the other end of the tape was a couple from the TV show, The Bachelor. I had no idea who these people were, but apparently they're famous. Had I known I'd be standing there next to real live TV personalities, I'd probably had run a comb through my hair. I couldn't help feeling inferior to the young girl standing opposite me -- she and her bright smile; teeth procured from deep sea oysters and me with my crooked canines and scrap metal for teeth. It was not the morning I had expected.

I saw the first runner rounding the corner to the finish line and then my excitement grew. Everybody was screaming and cheering, whooping and whistling -- it was exhilarating. The race official said to me just as I could see the runner approaching, "Now when the runner comes through the finish line, drop your end. Just let it go, okay?" I nodded to show that I understood, but actually I was confused. I thought the runner ran through the tape, breaking it in half,  I didn't realize I had to release the tape at just as the runner was coming over the finish line. I got nervous. What if I didn't release my end on time? What if the runner bounced off the taught tape and was ejected back before the 13.1 mile mark? Would they deduct that from his time? Oh darn. Now beads of sweat was forming on the back of my neck and it didn't help that the TV couple didn't have to do anything -- they just had to stand there looking radiant with their pearly whites reflecting shards of light at the photographers. Then, once I saw the runner nearing the tape my hands opened, splayed out like jazz hands allowing the tape to fall ceremoniously to the ground and the runner crossed the finish line without incident. Whew. I was so glad that part was over.  

Here he is -- the winner of the 1/2 marathon!

Here is the first female runner! She was super quick too.

Even though our job was done, we remained in the thick of it, standing with the photographers so I could pretend to be one of them. I couldn't believe I was standing there amongst all the other photographers -- they with their tricked out lenses and utility belts and me with my simple Nikon and stock lens -- I didn't care. I acted the part of photographer and put my modest camera in with the rest of'em. I think I got a good shot.

After the half there were noticeable worn knees.

Then it was off to watch the full marathoners! Here's a guy who came in somewhere around the top 20. He put on a show for us by doing a push-up after he crossed the finish line. Mighty strong guy.

Then Jon came in looking stronger than ever. #34 out of 26,000 runners with a time of 2:59:52. That's under 3 hours!! Holy moly!! And what's even more amazing is that this is precisely the same time he finished last year's race.

I used one of the photographer's lines and said, "Let's see the medal."

Jon's team, Team Determination raised over $200,000 for the American Cancer Society. See the gal with blonde hair sitting next to the guy in the white shirt? She's in the next Twilight movie and also stars in a TV show -- I can't recall which one.

And it wouldn't be a Rock & Roll Marathon without the bands. Still feeling much like one of the photographers, I got up to the stage and snapped this picture of the band, Everclear. They sounded awesome!!

Thank you, friends and family for your generous donations. Because of you, Jon raised over $2,000 for the ACS. He ran this race for Alex and the countless others whose lives have been touched by cancer. I asked Sammy if she would like to someday run a marathon and her response was, "Yes, but I'll probably be off somewhere digging up dinosaur bones." HA!

Tonight

Tonight it felt like my children were testing me for sport? It felt like they were taking turns kick'n up a ruckus and were keeping score with tally marks etched somewhere secret away from inquiring minds. 

Tonight I felt it alright. Like someone had on a pair of snakeskin boots whopping me repeatedly on my backside all evening.

I wanted to run off to someplace far away where I could scream louder than a clap of thunder, and instead just made my way to the grocery store to pickup a few items for tomorrow's Father's Day breakfast. It was a short errand offering only a few moments of serenity with nothing more than the soulful styling of Diana Ross playing in the background... Do you know where you're going to? Do you like the things that life is showing you? Where are you going to, do you know?.... 

My girls are oh so sweet when they want to be...

...sweet enough to put a smile on a horse's face.

Other times they're a handful. They leave me so deflated, so tired and weary that I'm sometimes shamefully at a loss. I'm hoping tonight they, and also I, will get a good nights sleep so we can together celebrate Father's Day without incident and without any _ _ _ _ -- you fill in the blank.

Preschool Days Are Over

First before I go into what I really want to tell you about today, I have to backtrack a little to talk about the post I wrote a few days ago concerning my Lost Wallet. Earlier today, an anonymous reader left me a comment that I just had to delete because it was offensive and quite honestly made me feel really sad. This anonymous person felt I was being cruel in the way I described the man that found my wallet – instead of being thankful, he said I was insulting.

 

Anonymous, I must tell you that my husband said the very same thing to me, though he was much softer in his critique. If you’ve read this blog long enough then you would know that I do not profess to be a very good writer, far from it. I simply write about my small adventures in motherhood, and adventures that happen to me along the way. I can only write what truly is swirling around in this little brain of mine for to write anything different would be disingenuous. When I wrote about George, I never meant to give the impression that I was ungrateful... goodness no, quite the contrary. I was deeply moved by the fact that a stranger took the time to find me and graciously returned my wallet, but what I wrote didn’t clearly convey that at all. I merely wrote, at the time, what I was truly thinking and sometimes maybe I reveal too much. When I spoke to George on the phone I had a completely different image of: what he would look like, where he might live, his personality, his stature, everything. I don’t think I’m that much different than anybody else in that respect; we all have preconceptions that sometimes don’t match up with reality. When I wrote that post, I was writing to illustrate my true thoughts at the time, my first impressions. Was I thankful for George? Heck yes!! Was I more than thankful at the time of our meeting? Yes! I think I even bowed several times as I couldn’t think of any other way to express physically how incredibly grateful I was. Anonymous,  I deleted your first comment, but left your second one for all to see. you made me so sad, but in the end, I feel like you were doing exactly as I had done – you gave me your honest impression – I can’t fault you for that.

 

Moving on....

 

 

Tomorrow will be my Alex’s last day of preschool. Come this fall, she’ll be a kindergartner and then I will never be a mother of a preschooler ever again. I’m a little teary eyed over the whole thing, and excited for this new chapter in our lives. I wish I could say that I taught my children well in their pre-kindergarten years, but I can only take credit for a handful of nuggets that they will carry with them for the rest of their lives. 1) Eat over your plate. 2) Keep to the sidewalk because if you walk in the grass you might step in poop. That’s it. I’ve got nothing else. With this, I’m sending little Alex to kindergarten where hopefully she’ll learn a bunch more.

 

Today, on our way home from school, Alex said she was going to miss preschool. I didn’t have the courage to tell her that I’m going to miss it too. She made friends with just about the sweetest, most caring little girls and boys imaginable and I’m going to miss seeing their giggly faces and the way their coats hang off one shoulder even on the coldest days. Their lunchboxes are just about as big as they are and when they walk they seem to list to one side, negotiating their way toward the school entrance while simultaneously trying to maintain a good grip on their meal. They are hilarious and such a welcome sight to see each morning at drop-off. Now, all the kids will go their separate ways, all entering the same grade at different schools – some private, some public – but, I’m certain that they all share some, if not all, of the anxiety Alex is feeling. In hindsight, this part of our lives seems short. I will miss it, and cherish it forever.

Cinnamon Sugar Tortilla Chips with Fruit Salsa

Sometimes kids just have a way of saying things plainly, compartmentalizing worlds complications into black/white or this/that. For instance, tonight after dinner Alex was looking pensive just sitting there alone in a comfy chair, quietly dangling her legs over the armrest until she decided to prop herself up, extend her arm and then point to the light in the vaulted ceiling. "I wish I could live in that light?" Which I thought she was saying for her own benefit due to the dreamlike quality to her voice; but soon her gaze rested on me, a sure signal that she wanted a response. Meeting her gaze, I stopped loading the dishwasher and asked, "What's that now?" With arm still extended she answered, "That light... right there. I wish I could live in it because sometimes at bedtime I'm afraid of the dark." Simple isn't it? If you're afraid of the dark, why not live in the light. Putting Alex to bed tonight proved to be an impossibility because she cried her eyes out until Jon decided to take her downstairs to snuggle with him. There, with her dad, accompanied by the glow of the TV, Alex's wet cheeks illuminated and her mood elevated. Under these conditions, sleep came with ease. How I wish everything came this easy.

Today I made Cinnamon Sugar Tortilla Chips with Fruit Salsa. I don't have an official recipe as I merely put it together based on some information I received from two other moms at my daughter's elementary school. It sounded easy enough and so I tried it. Here's a picture tutorial:

1. Cut flour tortillas into triangles. As many as you think you'll need.

2. Mix melted butter, sugar and cinnamon, then brush over tortilla pieces.



3. Sprinkle a mix of Cinnamon sugar over the top of the buttered tortillas then Bake at 375 degrees for about 10 to 12 minutes or until nice and crisp. And don't worry, your hand won't look like a giant claw when you do this; this is just how my hand looks on camera, don't be afraid, go to the light.

4. Combine fruits of your choice to make the fruit salsa. I used, mangoes, strawberries, red seedless grapes. (you can also add cilantro or mint to kick up the flavor, but I didn't do it because I wanted it to be as kid friendly as possible).

5. Squeeze in some lime juice. (you can also add peach nectar or orange juice if you so desire -- I did not desire, so I left it out.) Can you tell I was having trouble squeezing that lime? Where's the juice you ask. I couldn't tell you if the lack of juice was the result of an an abnormally strong lime, or a weak left hand. In either case, I did manage to produce a good amount of lime juice once my right hand was free. 

6. Mix it all up.

7. Meanwhile your chips should have come out of the oven by now.

8. Your fruit should have melded together nicely.

9. Put the two together and you got yourself, Cinnamon Sugar Tortillas with Fruit Salsa.

I wish all recipes were this easy.