....and on the drums

Uncle John moved into his new guest house bungalow located just a few blocks away from 1414 Main Street. He invited us over for some VitaMix smoothies (kale, apple, pears, avocado, pigs feet) (I'm not 100% sure those were the ingredients) and to check out the new digs. One of the big tickets items that moved to the beach was his electronic drum kit that he plays along to Def Leppard songs (using only one arm, natch). Drums and kids are like magnetic velcro. They are instantly drawn to one another and very difficult to pull apart.

Matt took a turn on the stool and took to it like a natural.

Matthew Thomas Butler, Nutball

Preparing him for a lifetime of soul crushing defeat

Goodness. I finally get the kid to wear a hat. ANY hat. Kid hates things on his head, primarily hats and sunglasses.  He wanted to try on my Padres hat after I had been wearing it all day. I offered him to have a hat of his own. He wore it for a better part of an hour, which is a long time for him to wear something on his head.

He doesn't seem to actually care to watch baseball. He seems to prefer hockey and basketball. He watched some March Madness and a couple periods of the Kings in and Western Conference Finals (and on to the Stanley Cup?!?! Holy cow.) Mary, I am sorry that Dan and I will require to watch the Finals starting next week.

Matty, the Little Boy

Some time in the past month or so, Matt has gone from a toddler to a small boy. His communication ability has taken a leap. You can have small conversations with him. If he's looking for his juice or smoothie, he'll run up to me and here's the conversation:

"Where's my smoothie, Dadee?"

"It's in the fridge?"

"Oh...okay."

(runs to fridge, opens it, closes it, runs back)

"I don't see it Dadee."

(I walk over the the fridge and find it for him)

"Oh, dere it is."

"Here you go." (I hand him his drink)

"Thank you."

And he's super into counting right now. He recognizes numbers and will just randomly count anything. 

Physically, he is crazy about climbing. Wants to climb anything and everything. This afternoon, Mary placed him in his crib for a nap after a busy morning he, Danny, and I had at the Aquarium with Danny's friend, Shane, and his brother Jesse (10 months) and Shane's mom, Jessica. Shortly thereafter, Danny apparently wanted to rest in his bed. I come home shortly after that and hear a yukfest going on. After ten minutes, Danny comes running out, followed by Matty. Both giggling like crazy. I ask Mary if she put Matt in his crib. Yes, of course. I then ask Dan how Matt got out of his crib. He stood on some books in his crib, climbed up to the end railing of the crib. Then pulled himself up into the top bunk and then climbed down the ladder. 

It's insane. 

Anyway, at the playground we like to go to there's this massive pirate ship structure, a roller slide -- like one you might find at a UPS sorting station -- and all sorts of stuff you that you don't really see at normal playgrounds. For example, they have what Mary coined "The Lord of the Flies Hill". Imagine up to 6 or so kids of various ages climbing a fairly steep hill covered with artificial grass that it attached to this narrow rock bridge. The hill is surprisingly steep. Matt has been climbing the curved ladders for months now, but he had been unable to climb this hill unassisted until last week. 

I tried to capture a sense of how steep this hill is. I suppose, the best indication is how fast Matt is going by the time he hits the bottom. You also get a dose of the Matty charm.

The Blues

It has a double meaning here. One, Matt is tearing it up on the harmonica (I think he's playing a Leadbelly song). Two, those eyes (thank you, Mary). Those eyes can kill you.

Potato Chips > Shyness

Often, Danny claims he is too shy to ask people for things. Whether it is wanting to play with someone, or with a toy they have, or to have some of what someone may be eating, sometimes he will hide behind me and ask me to ask for him.

In reality, if it is something he really wants (in this case, salty potato chips) and he sees an opportunity to just help himself, he has no issue with just, well, helping himself, and just sit next to whomever. In this case, this is from a fundraiser that Mary's cousin, Michelle and her husband, Barrett, were having at there house. Dan and Matt were the only people there under the age of 30, but that did not stop Dan from helping himself to multiple handfuls of free, plentiful potato chips.

Sendak

The editorial staff of The Pants Department would like to take a moment and pay its respects to Maurice Sendak, who recently left this mortal coil.  

My brother John and I grew up with his books.  Surrounding Sendak's death, there have been so many thoughtful discussions of his direct handling of the fears and conflict of childhood.  There are a few "Fresh Air" interviews with him about this that will bring you to tears.  But growing up, I just thought these books were scary as hell and completely insane, riding the line of control, tinged with the metallic taste of terror.

But we loved them anyway, or even because.  Especially In the Night Kitchen.  Mickey was totally self-actualized - he will not get baked into that cake!  I'm not the milk and the milk's not me!  I'm Mickey!  And, lets be honest, he was hilariously naked.

 

OH MY LORD we loved this page.  It was like the most utter, insane delight.  He fell out of his clothes - of course he did!  Watching our two little boys, I think Sendak truly had an incomparable ability to understand and channel the childhood experience - as it really was.  Inchoate and riding the line of control.  The sheer and utter delight of going wild, mouthing off to adults, and dictating the terms - the momentary illusion of being an adult.  And then, just when it gets scary (and Sendak let it get pretty scary), you get to go be a kid again, knowing you were still loved (with your dinner still hot).

Rest in peace, Mr. Sendak.  I know everybody talks about the wild rumpus, but this below is my favorite declaration of raw childhood, if there ever was one. 

So tonight we'll cry "Cock - a - Doodle Doo!" before we fall back into bed, carefree and warm.  And we'll know it's because of our child-like fearlessness and creativity, that we have cake in the morn.

Matt Turns 2!

So our little ham Matt is no longer a baby.  This is wholly apparent by his photos, but now, also by his age.

This kid is made up of joy.  Everything is yelled, from the moment he wakes up until he goes to bed.  He charms the pants off of anybody he meets, perhaps because he so rarely wears pants.

We love you so much, Matty.

These pictures are from his birthday party with the Moms' group.  He held his own just fine with the big kids.

These are from the cake we had after at our house.  Lala was here, happily, and set up while we were at the other place.  Matty was a mess, and needed a bath, which is, of course, a great reason to get naked.  It was also late, and we were trying to get the kids to bed shortly after.  I promise we are not raising nudists.


 

Matt too had a stack of gifts, including a crazy seat/hat/sled thing from the Hansens, some monster trucks, a birthday cake-making kit, some crazy building pieces, some color-changing Matchbox cars from his brother, and a basketball hoop. 

Our kids are so lucky to have so many who love them, and we are lucky to have them as our kids!

Legoland!

So you know, Danny's birthday was a few weeks ago.  We had a big birthday party here with the Moms' group, the highlight of which was the naked bounce house.  Matty is a slender fellow, and since most clothes these days must be being made for the growing waistlines of American children, we have to cinch his shorts all the way to the end, and they still fall off.  Put him in a bounce house, and forget it - three bounces and he's "Naked baby, naked butts."  This was the case throughout the afternoon, but he would back his booty up to the door of the bounce house, and whomever happened to be standing there would yank his shorts up for him.

Well, as night began to fall, he must have lost his shorts altogether with no one around to re-clothe him.  This caused a full-scale sartorial shedding, which was only noticed when one of the parents looked over, and commented, "Oh my God, they're all naked!"  That, or maybe it was the absolutely delighted shrieking of a passle of insane, naked four year-olds.  (All except for Emerson, who remained fully clothed with a look on his face of, "They are taking pictures, and there is something called Facebook.  I'm not getting embarrassed by this in 20 years, suckers."

Anyway, the party was a great success, and that night we picked up Pops from the airport.  I think he would agree that the bunk bed was quite comfy, and Matty was particularly delighted by finding Pops snoozing next to him in the morning.  He called the bottom bunk "Pops' bed!" for a long time afterwards.

Danny's actual birthday was on Tuesday, and since he doesn't have school that day, we woke up early and tried to figure out something really cool we could do.  Our choices seemed endless, and I was intoxicated with the possibilities.  It's very, very hard to wrangle both kids by oneself, so we don't get out much.  It's literally enclosed playground, or someone's house, or nothing.  Before his last stint at home this Spring, upon my occasional (ha!) complaining that the kids were driving me crazy, Dave used to occasionally STRONGLY suggest that the kids would LOVE to do something like the aquarium - maybe they'd like the aquarium?  I know, you could take them to the aquarium?

And then he actually took them to the aquarium.  And came home and said, "Never, ever take them to the aquarium [by yourself]."

So with Pops around to provide one set of wrangling hands, we thought that the world was our oyster.  The aquarium?  The zoo?  Or....how about Legoland!!!  I've heard how totally awesome it is - especially for kids Danny's age.  It's a bit far away - nearly to San Diego.  But we asked Danny, and it didn't take much to get any of us excited.  Within 40 minutes we were dressed, snacked up, and in the car on the way.  This is a family, if not country-wide, record.

I was really feeling good as we merged onto the 405 - happy to do something so special for Danny.  We used to do so much stuff together, just the two of us.  There's no doubt that Matt has been the most incredible addition to our family, and super playmate for Danny - that's not even a question.  But I still miss that we used to do special things.  And in true second-child fashion, I've so rarely done special things with Matt, so he doesn't miss it!  (Right?  Sorry Matt....!  Adding to the therapy fund, now.)

We're driving, we're juiced.  We even call Uncle John to see if he wants to play hooky from work.  We're chanting "LEGOLAND, LEGOLAND!!"  It's very exciting.

I am surprised that there is no traffic as we make our exit a few hours later.  But I quickly dismiss the jolt of panic with "maybe it's just a Tuesday in April - maybe the park will be empty!"

But then we pull into the actual park, and - seriously - CLOSED.

Oh my God.

Sigh.

We are not alone, there are maybe 25 other cars in the parking lot, all holding families with similarly dazed looks on their faces.  Turns out the park is closed on Mondays and Tuesdays in April.  I actually opened the website, and somehow didn't see that.

I mean, you know it's bad when Pops - Tom Posatko - the man who is never ever disappointed or frustrated with his children - gives you a bit of the "um, didn't you check on this before we drove two hours?" side-eye.  [Dad, I am totally teasing you - mostly.]

Now, let me tell you the silver lining of this ridiculous, total parenting disaster-y, bad mothering cloud.  Actually, there were a few.

First, upon being told that this like most amazing place in the entire universe - the one whose name we were chanting on the hours-long ride down on the freeway, the thing that was (in my mind) going to make up for the past year of boredom because I can't wrangle both boys without collapsing in a weeping pile of mucus - is closed, and that we would go to the aquarium instead?  Danny said, "OK." 

Second silver lining:  Mom can make a pretty big mistake and the world doesn't end.

Third:  Lots of chat time with Pops.

Fourth:  This rest stop was pretty cool.




























So that was Danny's fourth birthday.  Yay!  Of course we had dinner (his favorite pepperoni pizza), cake (his favorite chocolate), and crazy cones and crayon rocks from the Hansens, books and binoculars from Aunt Julia, a costume from Betsy, a very special story from Lala, new underwear (at least that's all he cares about) from Pops and Didi, and maybe the best - no offense to anybody else - from Uncle John - a crazy wall-mounted track that encourages cars to crash into each other.

Five hours of driving, 400 miles on the car, and all, it still was a good birthday.  Thank you all for making him feel so special. 

And we decided we'll go to Legoland in June.  (After calling to make sure they're open.  Twice.)

Update on Danny's Imminent Bachelor Pad

So remember how I told Danny - hilariously inappropriately, I know - that he had to listen to me because he was still living under my roof and had to do what I said, at least until he turned 18 and got a job and moved out?


Yesterday, he was begging for popcorn.  Popcorn, popcorn, all the live long day popcorn.  "No," I kept saying, "we're about to have lunch.  We need to eat lunch." 

"Well," says Danny.  "I'm eighteen."


[Reminds me of when Danny told Dave, who was leaving for work, that he too was leaving for his office. 

"What's your job?"  Dave asked. 

"Drinkin' smoothies," Danny replied.  Which he punctuated with a great big sip.]


"Oh!"  I said.  "Sweet!  When are you moving out?"

"I'M FOUR.  I'M FOUR!!"  he yelled, urgently, holding up four fingers so I could see.

And then asked to be held like a baby.

Well, That's Not Good

How much of a total parenting fail is it when you are having the "When you are 18 you can do whatever you want, but as long as you live under this roof, you do what I say!!" "conversation" when your child is four?

In other news, Matt can climb up to the top of the bunk bed.  And back down.

He can also climb up from his crib into the bunk bed - which are right next to each other and look a lot like a jungle gym.  I think the only way down from the bunk bed back into the crib is a total dive bomb onto your butt, which, frankly, I think has already been tried.

Before I forget, Matty calls strawberries "straw-blah-bees" and blueberries "blue-blah-blees."  Squirrels, inexplicably, are "weeelahs."

I haven't been able to take a lot of photos lately, but here is one of Danny, Matt, and Henry D.  Enjoy the insanity.