The Time Has Come

...for my first born to grow up. Yes. It has happened.

Last night Erin went to see her friend in the camp play. I was dropping her off at the show and she was going to meet her friend's mom in the lobby to see the camp prodution of Willy Wonka. She and Zoe have been friends since they were 2 years old and Erin was so excited to "support my friend and see her perform!" It was just terribly sweet how excited she was for Zoe.

After dinner, she got dressed and ready. Just this week Erin has suddenly become interested in how she looks, how her clothes match, and all about her "fashion" on a regular basis. Hmm? So we get in the car, and I drive her to the JCC. I pull up in front and give her the cell phone. The directions are that Zoe's mom is meeting her in the lobby and she should call me when she sees her. I will wait right out front. (Erin has gone to the JCC for 5 years of preschool through kindergarten and is very comfortable there, so I didn't need to walk her in.) I say to her, "Ok, have fun! Give me a kiss."

She looks at me.

"No. not here. Someone might see me!"

I didn't want to embarrass her. I know better than to make a big deal. But in that one second, it just killed me.

"Ok, high five." That was apparently acceptable.

And out of the car she went and running up the walk way. She saw another camp friend and they went in the building together laughing and talking about who knows what.

Ok, I teach middle school. 6th, 7th and 8th graders. I know what 12-14 year olds are like. But Erin is only 8. Ok, almost 9. Still.... She is not any where close to being a teenager. Why does she have to be so grown up?

I sat in the car waiting for her call. Sure enough, in less than 2 minutes she called and told me she found Zoe's mom and they were going in to sit down. She was turning her phone off for the show but she would call me after it was over and they were on the way home.

"Have fun, love you honey."

"Thanks, mommy"

Well. She still called me mommy. That's something, right?

The REAL reason I have dogs.

Tonight I was tucking in Haley and tod her she had to sleep in her own bed. Al night. She has been sneaking in to snuggle me every night for I don't know how ong and I just have not slept we lately. Enough is enough.

She asked me if I ever have bad dreams. I tod her I don't because I always have Rufus in bed and he keeps the bad dreams away.

This is how I tucked her in and left her tonight.


Hopefully he stays until morning.

The Happiest Place on Earth

That is what they say about Disney... but I don't agree. It is hotter than hades, more crowded than the discount purse bin at Macy's on Black Friday, and full of Brazilian Tour Groups trying to out chant and basically annoy the crap out of you. The lines are out of control, the sun is brutal and a can of soda costs $4.50.

Woo Hoo, thrills and spills, folks.

But nothing is as good as old fashioned family time, so we sucked it up (Haley and I, Ira, Erin and Samantha seemed to enjoy all the crap I mentioned above) and we followed our family motto. "It's not a catastrophe. It's an adventure!" When it rained, we wore ponchos and when it was hot, we found shade. Erin is a true thrill seeker. The crazier and faster and higher a ride was, the more she was into it. Tower of Terror? Rockin' Roller Coaster? Splash Mountain? Bring it on! Haley? She went on It's a Small World. Three times. In a row. With mommy.

Did I mention how much I love Disney?

But the kids had a blast doing the things they loved and Ira loved making us crazy getting up to go! go! go! It was great to get to the cruise on Thursday and get some relaxing in.

There are about 250 pictures in the album I added here. If you click to the Picasa page, you can see the rest (if you are bored and want to put yourself to sleep or a coma or something?) there. you can also download them right from Picasa to your own computer (To the grandparents, and Samantha) if you want.

So my words of wisdom? Don't go to Disney in the summer. I have fulfilled my parental obligation to bring my children to see the mouse, so I can say with much certainty that I am NEVER. Going. to Disney. Again.

At least not in the summer.

For a few years at least.

Example #327 on how my husband and I don't. ever. talk.

Tonight we had the usual craziness. One child had a half day at school. Arrange mom-mom to get her off the bus, me run to pick her up after I am done at work, get 2nd child, home for quick snack and half hour to play in which they go out front to color on new posters and somehow end up destroying plants that are waiting to be re-planted tomorrow by landscaper. (Who knew I had to watch them like a hawk every second at this age?) Get the girls changed into leotards, grab an apple, and off to The Gymnastics Show. Have to get there at least 6 hours early for 5:30 show if you want seats. Ok, so Aubree gave me a seat and Ira stole a seat from Aaron's son.... Whatever. Sit through like an hour and a half of torturous adorable gymnastics routines. Dinner, home, run around the driveway throwing mints from the dinner at each other, in for baths, you know, normal crazy family stuff.

So while the girls are in the tub, Ira and I are in Haley's room. We are doing whatever, and he tackles me and throws me on her bed. Typical Ira stuff. We are laying there talking and he says, "So, My intern, Adam....."

Huh?

The puzzled look on my face must have been a dead give away because he says, "I told you about my intern, right?"

"Well, no, you didn't actually. How long have you had this intern?"

Now we re completely grinning at each other. So, he now has an intern, and he has totally not mentioned it to AT ALL!

"Three weeks, but we so had this conversation. I told you ALL about it!" Grinning ear to ear.

"No! You DID NOT!" Grinning even more.

At this point we are both well aware that I will SO be blogging about this tonight.

"Yes I did. My mom ran into his mom when she was visiting your mom at the hospital I think? She told her about me and he needed an intern position for school so she told her to have him call me. They knew each other from like 20 years ago when she went to the Dr. that my mom used to work for or something like that."

(side not: I just re-read that, and even having been a part of the conversation, it makes no sense to me, so don't try to make sense out of it. That is just how my man and I roll.)

Ok, now, no way in God's Green Earth did we have this conversation. Ever. But that's ok. This is just the way we operate. I'm good with it. We have other things to talk about. Like Lima Beans and leotards and princesses and pom-poms..... Yeah, our life is pretty full.

You would think taking on an intern that his mom sent him because she knew his mom 20 years ago and ran into her at the hospital visiting my mom would be one of those Small-world-coincidences that kind of comes up over dinner or something. But no. You would think wrong.

And my family continues to tell him stuff like, "Hey, your father is having surgery" or "Your grandmother died" or even "Dinner on Sunday s going to be at your sister's house. We are celebrating mom and dad's something-tieth anniversary." and they think he is going to pass the news on to me. I swear, each of these are things that his family has told him expecting him to tell me. INCLUDING HIS GRANDMOTHER HAS DIED!

Yeah. No. He isn't.

And by the way, to my mother-in-law that reads this blog?

Yeah, he got a call from your friend's son and gave him and internship. As of today, Adam has been working for Ira for about 3 weeks now, 3 days a week.

And he has not mentioned it to you yet.

Although he will swear he has had this conversation with you.

He HAS NOT!

Don't let him play you.

It isn't just me he holds out information on.

Share the love, family. Share the love.

I think my children are adopted.

They can't possibly be mine. Today is proof positive.

I will start with Haley. She is the strongest, thinnest little thing you can imagine. The kid has an actual six pack stomach. I kid you not. You can look at her belly and see defined abdominal muscles. It is disgusting. She must be adopted. Or an alien. She does this cheer leading and gymnastics thing. And she is good. Her coaches tell me how strong she is. All. The. Time. Oh, and did I mention she runs? Just for fun? Fast? Well she does.




Next, comes Erin. She brought home this paper a few weeks ago, It was about a triathlon they are holding. A kids triathlon. At the JCC. And she wants to do it. Ok..... So she has to run a half mile, bike a half mile, and swim 50 50 yards. She has been training like mad. She comes home from school and gets on her bike to ride around the block (the horseshoe is .6 of a mile if she does 2 laps) and some days she grabs Izzy and takes her for a run. She has the biking and running down. She is working on the swimming this week. She decided to do this all by herself. Yesterday, when she was running, one of the kids in the neighborhood was shooting baskets out in his driveway. Erin finished her loop and then went over to his house to shoot hoops for a while. We were watching, and she did a pretty good job. I didn't think little white Jewish girls could shoot baskets?






And now... Now this....



I am out numbered. I am surrounded by exercise fanatics.

You know the phrase, "If you can't beat them, join them"?

Yeah, I am stronger than that phrase.

In House Artist

This week we attended Erin's Art Show at school. These are 5 of her pieces that were displayed around the school that she worked on this year in 2nd grade. There were also 3-D Arts on display, including a beaded necklace made with clay beads where she made the actual beads, but that didn't photograph so well. The talent of students in her school was incredible!

Enjoy my own little talented girl and her creative works....
1) Butterfly
2) Forrest
3) Horses
4) Chinese Dragon
5) Leaves

Summer Challenge

My two friends and I, Aubree and Jing Jing, have challenged ourselves. Ok, I started it and they are weak and cave to peer pressure, but regardless, we are doing this together! We are going to complete 100 scrapbook pages between Memorial Day and Labor Day weekends. I won't mention that we are each counting some work we did as early as Wednesday or Thursday before Memorial Day weekend, it was a looong weekend, ok? It is the general time frame we are going for. It is fun to egg each other on, watch the work we each create and have a little friendly competition. Especially with creative ladies like these.

So, here are the first 8 pages I managed to get done last weekend. I have 3 more finished, just not photographed and downloaded yet. I think if we keep each other motivated, 100 pages won't be that hard? Especially if you have seen the stash of supplies we have stock piled. We tend to encourage shopping as well....

Update: Seeking Counselor.

So, as predicted, Erin arrived home from school yesterday and as soon as she found out that Ira .... shall we say "Took care of the bird" she was PISSED! I was talking to him on the phone and she started yelling at him and was angry and he got the Very Mad Face and everything. Do I know my kids or what. And to think, she looks this sweet?

Haley, on the other hand, was rather matter-of-fact about the entire thing. Blase' if you will. She was proud of the fact that she did not tell anyone at school as daddy made her promise not to. Weekend Mermaid, School Day ELmer Fudd (I thought I thaw A Birdy? I did, I did!).

Ira told me that of everyone he spoke to over the course of the day told him the man was just not right. In his defense? If we lived in some parts of the country, the kids would have not only had their own real guns by now, he would have taken them turkey hunting already and taught them how to clean their own kill.

Just saying.
Maybe we should move to the Great Smoky Mountains. Or West Virginia.
Robins is the best we can do in Cherry Hill.

Years. Of. Therapy.

Strangely, this time I am not talking about me. My children. They will most likely need years of therapy. You see, their father is insane. He has an obsession. With birds. And killing them. Not all birds, just the 3 that have nested in my back porch. Where they proceed to shit all over the cushions and table and deck and everything. It is gross, dirty, disgusting and unsanitary. We eat there. The kids and dogs walk out there and then come in the. We have removed the nest, almost daily, just to have it rebuilt over night. The damn robin even laid her eggs on the wood beam with no nest!

So the birds have to go.

The other night, we were on the porch, and one of the cushions was literally PILED with bird poop. Did I mention this was the day after I had spent hours out int eh sun scrubbing the cushions with soap and water and a scrub brush to put them out for the season? No? well, it was. And this cushion had little piles of bird poop. All. Over. It. Gross. There were these two sparrow like birds. Asleep on the wire over head. Ira picked up a small bottle of Gatorade someone left on the porch. He threw it. Would you believe he hit the sleeping bird? Yeah, I wouldn't have either. Until he held up a headless bird at the kitchen window.

Yup. Headless.

Now, here is the part where my kids need therapy. The next morning? Erin asked if he kept the bird so she could see it. Serious. She was mad he didn't wake her up to see it. (He asked, I wouldn't let him, by the way)

Next weekend, birds (well, 2 out of the 3) are still around. Things. Get. Serious. Ira goes to the hunting store and buys an automatic bee bee gun. Thing shoots like 100 pellets in a nano-second.

Bird doesn't stand a chance.

Kids are running in the house all weekend yelling, "Daddy! Get your gun! The birds are her! You gotta kill them!"

Something is wrong with this. Normal children do not behave this way.

This morning I get a text message from Ira.

The Robin is dead.

I call him on my break. He said he saw the Robin and he grabbed the gun (he keeps the pellets out of it and the CO2 canister out of it all in different places, no way the kids can get to it) and puts it together and sits on the porch. There is dirt and bird crap every place. The thing built its nest. Again. For the 478th time.

He sits an waits. The robin hops down from his nest. Mocking my husband. He hops across the concrete patio and .... DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT-DT! His accuracy may not be true, but with an automatic weapon, just a sweep of the hand and the bird is gone.

Ira goes inside to get something to clean up the remains. He comes out and there is Haley. Kicking the bird with her shoe.

"I just wanted to see if it was still moving!"

When did she get so grown up?

Monday night was Haley's cheerleading show. Before that, I took the girls to dinner to meet two of Haley's friends and their moms at a pizza place. Ira met us there. From there, we went right to the show, where Haley and her cheerleading class did an OUTSTANDING job. They performed at the annual meeting for the JCC and were a fabulous success. I felt sorry for whoever had to talk after them. Just adorable.

As we left the JCC, Haley realized she lost her jacket. We knew she didn't bring it into the JCC so she must have left it at dinner. Back to the pizza place we went.... kids!

When we pulled into the parking lot, Erin said she would run in.

Really?

Ira and I sat and watched her go in the door. Now, the place has all glass windows, so we could see her and watch what she did. This is a pizza place I have been going to since I was, what, 14 I think? She went to the table where we sat and looked under all the benches. No jacket.

What would she do?

We watched.

She walked up to the counter.

She waited her turn.

We saw her talking to the very big, more than a little gruff and loud Italian-pizza-guy-behind-the-counter-named-Joey (Imagine that?) We saw Joey look around. We saw Joey hand Erin something. We saw Erin smile, say thank you and come skipping out the door with her sister's jacket. Joey smiled at us and waved over his head as she skipped away. He's a dad too. I know.

We were shocked.

She is 8 years old? How is she grown up enough to have the confidence to walk into a restaurant, look for the jacket, ask at the counter that is very over her head, and come skipping out? She didn't know we could see her the whole way?

When Erin got in the car, she was laughing. She told us that is was funny because at first she didn't see the jacket. It was inside out and the inside is white and it was with some white towels so she didn't even know it was there, even though the jacket is pink. The man had to look a few times and then he laughed when he found it. She was so proud of herself.

Erin has always been so independent. Always so willing to do things on her own. It shouldn't surprise me. She is my adventurous child. The one willing to do things.

This moment was just one of those that hit me. She really isn't a little kid any more. My little girl is growing up.

How did that happen?