Marshmallow

As we may have reported here in the past, Joe's class adopted a tree in Wolfe Park and named it Marshmallow. Every few months there is a field trip to visit their tree so they learn about the seasons. When Ted announced the kids were being taken to the park (to allow for less stressful packing by Julie) Joe asked if they could go to Wolfe Park to visit Marshmallow. Well this tree has a name plaque, various laminated cards to mark previous visits, and even a knitted sweater sleeve for the base of its trunk to keep it warm in the winter.  It's a tricked out tree!  

After the tree visit and playground we went to the fishing pier to see the fish, and the kids also tried to sneak up on a duck, but surprisingly the duck was onto them and hustled away. 

Fern Hill Park

Saturday afternoon found us at our local Fern Hill Park. Joe was very proud that he was able to climb across the whole caterpillar. As I type, a girl is teaching Joe and other smaller kids how to play Kick the Can. Joe took right to it, and seems to like running to a hiding space, but not really hiding cause then he can't see whats going on. Clara is keeping to the sidelines a bit wary of these kids running around. Might be the last time at perpetually crowded FH Park, but we will have a new park even closer to the house next week!  

Last Batch of Raleigh House Jam

Strawberries were about 2 weeks late this year due to the very delayed spring and summer, but they came in time to make one last batch of strawberry rhubarb jam (actually three batches). Joe helped harvest the rhubarb from the backyard and mash up the berries, but he disappeared once the cooking started, which is pretty much what his father did growing up too.  Jam making will continue in the new house, but we will need a new brand name. 

Signing In

Every day at drop off goes the same. We march down the long hall to PreK, Joe grabs a marker to sign in, and Clara pulls a chair up super close to watch the action. She never asks to do it too like many other little siblings do, she just soaks it in.  Someday she will get a crack at the big leagues too. 

Bang-Bang!

Fans, after nearly 72 hours without power, it's back on.  Three cheers for Excel Energy and the crew in from Wisconsin that fixed our block's line!  So, we write to you of this dinnertime vignette from the desktop computer.

As you no doubt remember, Fans, Our Hero will turn five in a matter of days.  He's hoping for a water gun.  He has spoken of mounting a campaign at school among his friends he knows to be attending his party--you know, just in case they weren't sure what they could get him for his birthday.  Some weeks ago, we decided to get Our Hero some water weaponry and a new wading pool for his birthday.  We figured that this would be a gift that someone else very likely (and rightfully) might not want to get for our little gunslinger.  Since these seasonal items are the sorts of things that are here-today-gone-tomorrow in one's local Target, so this past weekend, when we were out and about with the rest of the St. Louis Parkians that were without power, Julie went into the Little Target and picked up some water heat.

Now we and older Fans might remember when water guns were basically revolvers.  Fans, now, you can get a water magazine clip for your faux automatic water weapon.  They come with not only triggers, but pumps.  It's a little frightening to consider the array for one's almost-five-year-old even if one reassures one's self of the normalcy of gun play and reminds one's self of the heartfelt chats one has had with one's child about not pointing even a pretend gun at a person, especially a person's face.

Julie figured she'd at least get a water gun with a large water tank so we wouldn't be asked incessantly to refill it.  She got a three-pack and asked for a big bag at check out which she then tossed in the back cargo compartment when she got back to the car.

Today at dinner, Joe piped up and said something along the lines of, "Hey!  You know what?!  I think I saw water guns in the back of the car!"  (Sometimes, we likes to hang over the back of his seat when he gets in the car.)

So that bullet's been fired, Fans.  Bang-bang!  At least we've still got the pool.  Bang-bang?

No yogurt

Ted cleared out most of the fridge last night after about 48 hrs of no power.  Clara of course still marched over to the fridge this morning for her yogurt. She tends to stand in front and wait for Ted to open - no words are exchanged. She looked in and said  "no more yogurt...we have to get some more at the store."  We discussed the miracle of electricity and refrigeration before sitting down with a granola bar and a cup of tap water. 

O Pioneers!

Fans, we are rocking it like pioneers.* Our power is out in the wake of a thunderstorm last night that brought with it 60 to 70 mile per hour straight line winds in addition to rain. The tree in the backyard of the celebrity demi-goddess babysitter's house fell on their roof and the fence their neighbor finished installing about a week ago. They weren't hurt and all our other neighbors are fine, but there are plenty of downed trees, tree limbs, and power lines and plenty of damage to property throughout the neighborhood. We toured it this morning in the out-but-unscathed Blue on our way to swimming class when we took the picture here of the tree in the yard next door to Graham and Connor's old house. We're feeling pretty lucky. 

*This post is brought to you via the wonders of technology including the Blogger app. Seemingly the whole of SLP is out at any commercial business with power charging their various devices at all available outlets. This reporter charged the phone on which she is typing this at an obliging outlet at the salon where the bambini got their hair cut this morning.

A long walk

The contractor who bought our house had  architects at the house for an hour on Friday which meant Berenice needed to go on a long walk.  Its been a while since she got to do this, so she was sniffing up all the smells.  She will be the last to know about the move but we hope she likes it.  

The builder says they will put an addition off the back and maybe bump out the side a bit too. They want to preserve our big oak trees, but after our storms this weekend, they might not need to worry!

A Letter to Biride

Birdie,

You are one tough and tender little thing.

Some night last week found us both in frustrated tears.  I was crying because you were doing everything but going to bed at bedtime and you were crying because I was busy dismantling your bed and carting it out of the room.  (I am also tough.  "You don't want to sleep?  Fine!  You don't get a bed!")  You were crying when you weren't laughing at all the consternation you were causing.  (The power!)  Daddy came in and asked me to leave your room before I'd gotten so far as the bed frame itself, but I noticed that he'd moved it out to the hallway when I came back inside after storming out into the yard and flinging myself into one of the adirondack chairs.  I found you then asleep on the floor, on your tummy with your little bottom in the air.  I carted all the pieces of your bed back in and put it together again, and then put you in it.  (It turns out, I might also be tender.)  You opened your eyes and scowled at being woken, but you hadn't really woken and you went right back to sleep.

This past Sunday was Father's Day.  Daddy and Joe went to a Twins game.  You and I stayed home.  We both napped, but I woke up before you.  I was typing something else here on the computer when suddenly, there you were next to me.  You said you wanted to go on a bike ride, so I pushed you on your trike down to the park.  You were in your sunglasses along with your helmet.  Hot stuff.  Along the way, we passed a house with some purple iris in full bloom in front of it.  I pointed them out to you as we passed.

That night, when I was carrying you to bed, I told you I had had fun with you that afternoon.  You looked at me and said, "My favorite things was. . .the irises!"  I said, "They were purple!  You like purple.  I liked them, too."

You're barely three, so I imagine you won't remember these moments, but who knows?  One of the things you realize as you get older is that some of the things you remember are sometimes sort of funny.  And who's to say that this past Sunday afternoon will remain so etched in my mind?  Sometimes you are in moments and you think, "I'm going to remember this moment always."  But you don't.  Other times, you're in a moment that seems ordinary, and maybe it really is, and you don't think anything about it, and for some reason, that moment is one of the most vivid pictures your heart carries.

It could be you'll remember our walk past the iris, and me carrying you into bed, and the way you sometimes reach up and pull me to you so, so tight.

It could also be that you'll remember that I once dismantled your whole bed and carted nearly all of it out of your room.

It could be you won't remember any of it.

So I am writing these words to you so that in any case, you'll know that the Father's Day when you were three, we shared a sweet afternoon.  (And, I suppose, that I once carted your entire bed out of your room.)  And, that I love the way you pull the things you love to you and hold them so close.

Love you so much, Birdie Birds.

Mommy

Check Mates

Our Hero is all about playing No-Stress Chess these days. Good thing, too, because there's not much these days to which the adjective no-stress might be applied. NSC is chess as you know it, Fans, but with a deck of cards. Each card has a piece on it with a reminder of how it moves. Players draw cards and move the piece on the card. So it's a good way to learn the game even if strategy is sacrificed at the alter of the cards to a large extent.

When Julie arrived home last night, Joe asked her to play NSC. She was game (oh, pun intended, Fans, pun intended). As she captured Joe's pieces, he would say in a singsong voice, "I don't ca-are, I don't ca-are," which Julie found very unsportsmanlike. But Joe informed her he only cared about the king. Ah.

Then Julie captured the king. "Joe said "I don't ca-are, I don't ca-are. . .ca-are, ca-are. Oh." And then he laughed and so did Julie.

Check.

Take me out to the ballgame

As luck would have it, the first chance to bring one of the kids to a Twins game with our season ticket package was today-Fathers Day!  It was a beautiful 80 degree sunny day and the Twins hosted the Detroit Tigers. Ted and Joe got to their seats just before the national anthem, so Joe got the full experience. Joe was full of questions, and baseball isn't the easiest game to learn, but he tried to fit it all into his own logic. He was clear that we wanted Tigers to be out not Twins. And he was quick to tell his mother later about how the pitcher made a mistake and hit the batter. But there were lots of questions about which team was hitting, when the pitcher would come from "behind that little gate" (aka the outfield bullpen), and what inning it was. I think the highlights for Joe (and Ted) was the fireworks during the national anthem, the cotton candy in the first inning, visiting the organist and asking what all the buttons do, the fireworks when Dozier hit a HR to break up the no hitter in the fifth, singing Take Me out to the Ballgame, the ice cream cone in the seventh, and running the bases after the game (every Sunday game is kids day!), and finally the foam finger his Dad bought him on the way out (thats the Rod Carew statue for the non fans out there). Ted couldn't have asked for a better Fathers Day outing or for a better buddy to watch the game with. 

First Summer Storm of the Season

Just before this picture was taken, Birdie shook her head, and then looked over at Julie with this smile.

Boo, trying to find safe harbor.

Yesterday afternoon there was a pretty terrific afternoon thunderstorm which scrubbed our plans to attend the annual St. Louis Park Parktacular when Birdie woke up from her nap.  Julie was out and about and pulled into the garage not long after the storm had broken out.  She was driving in the car thinking about how nice it would be to watch the storm from the porch when she remembered the trusty white plastic chairs that are usually yard party seating.  She ran from the garage--with two of them over her head--to the backdoor, where Ted met her, took them, and put them right into the porch, where we promptly put ourselves to watch the storm (except for Our Hero who was watching Cars and, really, Berenice who was less watching then fretting and hoping that if the world was ending as she suspected, there would be Greenies in heaven).  There might not have been Greenies, but it was a little slice of heaven.

Birdie's First Swimming Lesson

Swimmers, before class.

Birdie went to her first swimming lesson yesterday morning!  A new session began at the swim school ad while Joe continued on in the Littles 3 class, Clara began in the Little 1 class.  Conveniently, their classes are at the same time: 8am.    Now a Saturday morning 8am swimming lesson sounds like it might be awful, but--as we discovered--it is actually pretty great as there aren't as many families who want to be swimming at that time (especially in the summer) so the usual hubbub of the Foss Swim School was greatly reduced.  As it happens, Clara is the only swimmer in her Littles 1 class, and her teacher, Ms. Courtney, was clearly delighted that her first swimmer out of the box on Saturdays this session was going to be "a little ball of sunshine."

At her first lesson, Birdie did a little bit of everything that she will be taught this session by Ms. Courtney:  monkey cheeks, putting one's face in the water, scooping, kicking, floating like a pancake (one one's back).  Because Joe has talked about all of these things (and had, in fact, just the night before instructed Clara on monkey cheek making in preparation for the big day), Clara picked right up on what Ms. Courtney was laying down and tried it all which made Ms. Courtney very, very happy.  As she told Julie: "She's very brave which is going to be very helpful!"  Birdie likes to kick just one leg right now, largely because she's twisting to watch her would-be kicking prowess, which you can see in this short video of Birdie in the water.

Stoop Setting

Clara said this morning that she liked this outfit a lot.  It's her two favorite colors.  (Those are purple shorts, in case you can't see them well enough to tell.)

The Longhorns had practice and a game tonight, but at 7pm, so the boys went to the soccer fields while the Birds stayed home.  Today was our first summer like day here in the Cities in weeks.  Clear blue skies, sunshine, warm-but-not-hot temperatures.  In short, a perfect day for a little soccer.

Turns out, this weather is also perfect for sitting on the front stoop and polishing off the last quarter of the "pink cookies" (strawberry wafers*) in the bucket while watching the neighbor across the street putter in her garden.  Which is exactly what the Birds did.  Our neighbor across the street has provided hours and hours of free entertainment with her incessant yard puttering, and watching her from our porch was one of our favorite ways to putter away an evening.  We're gonna miss her, Fans.  We're gonna miss her.

* For our adult Fans, we can recommend trying them with champagne, and would also encourage you to keep an eye out for this in your locale's hipster bar.  Don't you think that combo screams hipster bar?

One Last Thing About Our Time In California

Joe, Julie, Birdie, Anne, Jack (Brooklyn in background--ears big, and amazing)

The pictures in the last two posts were taken in California at a park near where Julie's friend Anne lives, which reminded the editorial board here at the Joe and Clara Jane Blog, that we neglected to recount what was, at least for Julie, the highlight of the trip to the Golden State.  Friends who have know Julie a longtime will also likely know Anne.  But Julie likes a nickname and so they may also know this Anne* as Froppet.  Frops lives in Studio City with her husband, Dave; their son, Jackson (Jack); and their dogs, Brooklyn (Brook) and Harlem (Harley) which--so happily!--is not so far from Orange County.  Julie had seen Frops once in the going on nine years that have passed since Frops stood in Julie and Ted's wedding.  So it was really something to see Froppie, and meet Jack.  (It was also nice to see Dave.  Don't go feeling all sorry for Dave, Fans.  But he wasn't the main event, let's be honest.)

Anne remains as fabulous as ever, and Jack is as fabulous as you would expect if you knew Frops.  Clara took to Jack (like a big doll!  that moves for real!) straight off.  (Joe wanted to tack down the particulars of Froppie, Dave, Jack, Brook, and Harley's condo.)  It had been a long time, but it might have been like we'd all had brunch the weekend just before, or had met up at the park.  Anne got to hear Julie break out her "mom voice"!  When Joe was about to kick up some sand just because, you know, it's like, there. . .Jack's too little yet to have the mom voice busted out on him.  So Julie didn't get to hear Froppie's.  Otherwise, it was all perfect.

It ended too soon, but that, too, made it feel like it was just any ordinary Sunday, instead of one that was anything but.

*And frankly, Julie knows a fair number of Annes!  And Anns!  And Annies!

All About Birdie

Birdie, classic head tilt.  ("No pictures, Mommy.")

In other news, yesterday we had a parent-teacher conference with Birdie's now former pre-B teacher, Ms. Amanda.  Here we pause to say that Ms. Amanda rocks.  Sensitive to parent concerns and thoughts; firm but fun with her charges--and from the observations she shared, it was clear that she knew Our Birdie.  So although Birdie's time in Ms. Amanda's room was brief, it was solid, just like Ms. Amanda.

Ms. Amanda relayed that Birdie understands her physical space and her body very well; she's balanced and in control of her limbs and what they are doing all the time.  She's very creative; she loves what they call dramatic play.  In particular, she loves to pretend to be a teacher, and especially to be a teacher at the calendar used every day to talk about various things.  This explains why Birdie can sometimes, quite confidently, count up to 30.  Apparently Birdie loves calendar time and counting up to whatever the date happens to be.  This also explains why sometimes Birdie will issue teacher-like directives (even if they make no real sense), like: "O-kay.  I going to say a letter and you write it down, o-kay?  And I going to say you name and you say you name."  Birdie also picked right up on the bucket filler and bucket dipper concepts when they were introduced.  Ms. Amanda said that early on Clara looked at her, knocked over some toys, picked them up, and said, "I a bucket filler!"  (And a bit cheeky, too, Fans, no?)  When Birdie arrived in pre-C, she was prone to crying--and screaming--loudly when she was upset, but she has learned to take some deep breaths and use her words.  And so, she was ready to move to pre-B when space opened up.

And here we are.

T Minus 28, and Counting

Joe, almost five

Fans, as you know, Our Hero will turn five in less than a month.  Who can believe it?!  As our longtime Fans know, we here at Raleigh House are ourselves huge fans--of the backyard birthday fete. But it is true that the wee ones are getting less and less wee, and after last year's birthday bash, our yard (and the front stoop) were more than a bit worse for the wear.  So even before our impending move came together as quickly as it did, making a backyard birthday bash tricky to pull off, we'd decided to celebrate Joe's fifth birthday offsite, if you will.

The bash will be at Kiddywampus, which has a few themed parties from which one can choose.  Joe will be the guest of honor at an "Action Jackson" party: "Release your inner Jackson Pollock and thorw paint against our 'magical' giant studio wall. . .this experience is something you can't do anywhere else! Throw, splatter and dribble paint to create unique works of art.  Each guest will create two 18" x 24" action paintings that the guest can take home and frame.  As a special treat, one of the birthday child's masterpieces will be on a 18" x 24" stretched canvas."

Fans, don't you think pitching paint against the walls sounds like one of the most fabulous things you could do as a five-year-old?  It would be like being given 10 tubes of toothpaste and squeezing all that toothpaste out.  Or wear pajamas and tap shoes all day long.  Or whirl around with outstretched arms filled with glitter that scatters everywhere.

The cost of this sure-to-be-glorious extravaganza includes the birthday child and 10 of his nearest and dearest.  Additional nearest and dearests cost extra.  There are nearly 30 kids in Joe's class, some of whom--you will recall, Dear Readers--have just joined the pre-K room, so for at least two reasons, we do not plan to invite the whole of the pre-K classroom.  We explained as much to Joe, and then put it to him: "Who would you like to invite to your birthday party?"

Joe said, "Well, like, all my friends. [beat] You should know who they are by now."

Indeed.

When pressed, he named the partygoers we might have suspected.  (It may interest you to know that this will be a co-ed fete, Fans.)

But there is also this: Joe was quite specific that he did not want one of his classmates invited because "He's mean.  You know, he pushes and punches people."

Now, as much as one's heart aches a bit for this classmate, this reporter will also admit that her heart thrilled a bit, to know that her kind-hearted son is apparently sorting out that not everyone is such, and that sometimes, you need to take precautions.

Good thing.  Because we don't think Kiddywampus has bouncers.

Digby Takes Charge (Going With the Narrative Flow)

The mornings the bambini aren't eating yogurt find them eating Cheerios.  Not so long ago, their Cheerios box contained a book, a slender volume entitled Digby Takes Charge.  It is written and illustrated by Caroline Jane Church, with whom those familiar with children's literature will be familiar, and maybe even with Digby Goes Down.  Digby is a sheepdog, who is stymied by six stubborn sheep who will not be herded anywhere--unless they are asked nicely.  Many a morning, while she was curling her hair in the bathroom, Julie heard Ted reading Digby over three bowls of Cheerios.  Yesterday, Clara selected it before bed.  Julie read the title and then flipped to the first page.  Only Clara informed her it wasn't the first page and insisted she'd missed a critical page: the page that reads, "This book belongs to: ; Compliments of Cheerios; Spoonfuls of stories."  This sort of exacting request is not unlike the insistence upon the reading of every thought bubble, every sign, every label, every word on every page whether it is part of the narrative flow or not.  (The other day, Joe insisted that Julie read a thought bubble on the book jacket flap.  Like one that hinted at the actual story.  The one the book jacket flap is meant to entice one to want to read.)

Note that we're not even in the narrative flow here with this this-book-belongs-to page, Fans.  It's probably only a matter of time before we're being asked to read the copyright page.  (Digby was published in 2007, by the way.)

The Pre-School Room Rodeo

Pre-B Birdie, washing hands, and singing the alphabet.

You will recall that when we returned from California, we reported that the bambini were off their feed.    Exacerbating this trend, for Birdie, was the fact that she was in the midst of moving from her pre-C room (from which one of her regular teachers has been absent for a few weeks) to the pre-B room.  Longtime readers may recall that when Joe was in pre-C, it was staffed by a teacher who had only this going for him: he was totally on board with cold turkey potty training; totally on board with changing one's child accident after accident after accident if necessary until the potty lightbulb went off.  The focus in pre-C is on potty training; curriculum takes a back seat.  But, with the right teachers--and if there are two, not one--it's acceptable.

Five years into our relationship with KinderCare, we know that whether one's child spends any time in pre-C or how much time one's child spends in pre-C has relatively little to do with whether they are confident potty users and underwear wearers, and everything to do with enrollments.  The KinderCare Powers-That-Be will try to tell you different, but this isn't our first trip to the pre-school room rodeo.

A number of kids in pre-K have left now that the summer session has started, because they older brothers or sisters and are being carded for by a nanny in advance of beginning kindergarten this fall, or they are moving to another town, or what have you.  All manner of pre-Bers are moving into pre-K, so pre-Cers are moving into pre-B, and so on down as much as the Powers-That-Be are able.

Clara and nine pre-B friends had a one week "transition" into their new pre-B room, and one two of those days, Ms. Amanda, one of their two permanent pre-C teachers--the one who hasn't been on a one-month leave--was gone visiting family.  (We are going to miss Ms. Amanda, who seemed to understand the unfortunate timing of her trip and apologized all over the place for it.  She's good people.)

So, bless Birdie's little heart, it's been managing an awful lot of late and thus, we have, too.

Go Longhorns!

In other news, Joe began an eight-week session of soccer this week.  It's offered through the park district, is a co-ed league, and is for kids who are between five (as of September 1) and six.  Despite all of these facts, and the fact that many a kid (including one Joseph T. Ekkers) did not understand that when playing soccer, one does not touch the ball with one's hands, most of the kids showed up in shin guards and cleats.  Turns out, the shin guards are required (the letter from the park district containing this detail hadn't yet reached us), so we've procured shin guards but are holding off on the cleats unless it seems like we've got a Becks on our hands.

Joe is on the Longhorns team which sports dark green jerseys.  Darby is also on his team and her dad, Mr. John, bravely volunteered to coach.  This first session was practice only.  In all of the following weeks, a 30 minute game will follow a 20 minute practice.  (In other words, we will watch and cheer on 50 minutes of moderate chaos.)

Getting out of the car, Joe showed the first sign of hesitation and said to Julie, "Mommy, what will soccer be like?"  Julie said, "It will be fun!"  Thankfully, it was, and at almost five, that's all we were hoping for.  Joe clutched Julie's hand and leaned into her leg as he took his first steps on to the field, but he got his bearings pretty quickly.  Then, he saw Mr. John and Darby and was off, running about and doing, one assumes, what he assumed were soccer-like things.

After this first practice, we can say that Our Hero might be catching on to the whole idea of sharing the ball, also known, of course, as passing the ball.  But it took a bit of coaching!  The Longhorns played "sharks and minnows" twice in which sharks tried to take the ball from minnows, who then became sharks.  The first go around, Joe, clearly thinking, "I'm on to this," simply picked up the ball he had and held it.  Some other kid came over and (rather politely) asked if he could have it.  Joe said (rather simply) no. But the second go around, he was all shark then minnow, minnow then shark.

Still, we're thinking the cleats won't be necessary this season.

The Longhorns take some direction from Coach

Teammates (Darby with Our Hero)

Pre-K Graduate

As you know, Fans, Joe will be going to kindergarten this fall.  You may also recall that it was picture day at the KinderCare a few weeks ago.  It was the week everyone in the family save Julie and Ted was barfing (and that we bought our new house!).  As it happened, Clara was sick on what would have been her picture day, while Joe was not.  That's how we ended up with this gem.

Mom.  Dad.  I made it.  I'm a pre-K graduate!!!!!

Of Wooing, and Digging (Like A Dog)

Tonight, at dinner, Joe was asked what he played outside today and he said, "Chase the Girls."  Chase the Girls is all the rage in Pre-K, by the way, Fans.  Julie asked if he caught any girls, and Joe said yes: Emme and Darby.  Julie asked what he did then, and Joe said, "I went inside like I always do."  (Like, duh, Mom.)

Julie wondered allowed if he was wooing them and then remarked that Ted used to woo her, but that she feels he now has her well and wooed.  All of that was what we might call dicta.

Naturally, Joe asked what wooing was.  (You never really know what he'll glom on to and when he does glom on to something, the reason why is usually elusive.)  Ted allowed that wooing was when you tried to get someone to like you and added that it was being "a super bucket filler."

Julie--pretty much always over thinking it--added that one usually wooed people that one wanted to kiss.  Here's how the conversation would up:

Ted (to Julie): "You keep diggin'."
Joe: "Diggin' like a dog!"

Well, after that it was pretty much all over.  Joe was enchanted with the fact that he'd made a funny, shall we say, and sallied forth with "Diggin' like a cat!"

You gotta quit while you're ahead.

Clara tried, "Diggin' like an elephant!"

See above.  Ibid.

A View From the Shore

Fans, as you know, when we were in California, we went to the beach.  It was in Corona del Mar, a town in Newport Beach--CdM as the local apparently call it.  (A brochure we collected from the front desk of our hotel informed us that the locals referred to it this way, but Julie at least didn't believe it until Carrie, who was local to Orange County for many years, called it that.)  CdM's beach has little waves, because the are broken by The Wedge (again, so sayeth the locals).  One certainly couldn't surf at CdM's beach, but the waves were plenty big for the bambini.

It was interesting to see how each of them met the beach just how they meet the rest of the world: Joe, cautious at first, but open always, and easy once he knew the lay of the land; Clara, plunging right in, laughing and delighting in the whole whirl.  As they gauged and got acclimated to the strength of the waves, Joe would stand until they just reached him and then scamper away; Clara had to be held back with interlaced hands so she wasn't pulled forward and out.  But after a while, it was Joe who hung out along the shore with Julie, meeting the waves, and Clara who pattered around away from it, entranced with everything else there was to see besides the waves. To be fair, maybe they way they were was to do with their ages, but at the same time, they were just so just the way they are.

California Love

California. . .knows how to party. . .We keep it rockin'. . .

Fans, we are back from California.  While we were gone, Raleigh House sold!  It was bought by a contractor who--grab this!--went to Northwestern!  He played football for the Wildkitties; class of '02.  Go Cats!  In case things fall apart (not that a former Wildcat would know anything about that), Fierce Realtor Cindy has also secured a back-up offer from, as it happens, another realtor.  We close on Raleigh House about two weeks after we close on the New House, on July 16, but Fans, already it feels a little funny here.  Wildcat Contractor has brought in an architect so it seems Raleigh House will not remain as she does today.  Maybe that is for the best--like, maybe if it's a different house, somehow it will feel better that it's not our house anymore?  Of course, it helps to have New House to which to look forward, too!

Now that we are back, it is fair to say that the bambini are off their feed.  Really, all of us are off our feed between the mad dash to make ready Raleigh House for sale, packing for California, living out of suitcases for a little over a week, eating fast food that same amount of time, and being two hours ahead and then two hours back in the span of a week.  As this report is filed, Clara is wailing because she was covered with her blanket when apparently, she wanted to cover herself up with her blanket, but not enough to actually do it once she'd pitched it on the floor.  By then, she wanted Julie to do it and if you can't keep. up. with that, well, maybe you should go get under a blanket and call it a week.  Frankly, that doesn't sound half bad, and we'd welcome someone tucking us in thank you very much.  We'd be back to our regularly scheduled programming in no time if we could spend a week under a blanket.

The last time we went on vacation, to Arizona, we brought you a compendium of conversational tidbits.  We intended to do the same this time, we really did.  But Ted was running zone defense for a lot of the trip and we spent an awful lot of time in the pool which does not mix with the iPhone where one keeps such a compendium.  But, we captured the following and Fans, we think you will agree: good stuff.

First day, in the car driving to the hotel:
Joe, to Clara: Stop making that noise.  It's disgusting.
Clara: It's not disgusting.  It's annoying.

Second to last day, in the car, driving back to the hotel to go to the pool:
Joe: I'm going to ask Santa for an ax, a heavy ax so I can knock things down!  Clara, do you want an ax?
[Clara made no reply, but perhaps her silence said, "Boys are weird sometimes."]

It is also perhaps worth noting that one of Joe's new pet phrases in his ongoing effort to mimic disciplining Clara, is to tell her she is "disrupting the narrative flow," which is what Julie tells the bambini when they want her to read every sentence in every thought bubble and every word on every sign or label or what have you when reading a book.  Try it sometime, Fans.  Doing that totally disrupts the narrative flow.  Memo to the Berenstains of this decade: fewer thought bubbles, fewer signs and such.  But, Fans, you can also try dropping a "you're disrupting the narrative flow" on someone the next time they are being disgusting (or annoying) and seeing how things flow then.