Grazie, Prego, Scusi

It's thank you, you're welcome and excuse me in Italian. 

It also pretty well describes our feelings about 2012 (mostly the grazie, but also the scusi).

And, finally, it's a great little song by Dean Martin that will make more sense if you have a few minutes to watch this video that Antony created as a fun memento to 2012. 

Here's to happy, loving weeks ahead and a million loose-screw moments in 2013. 

 http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mcNiSriyPOo&feature=youtu.be

 

We're Super Cultured, Obviously

Ben, after school last week: "Today we went to a, um...a few...nuh.. A funera...."

Me: "A funeral?!"

Ben: "Uh, yeah...?"

Me: "Did someone die?!" Good lord, what were they teaching him?!

Ben: "No, no one died. There were three bears and a wolf, and singers..."

Me, after a text to an always-helpful fellow 1st grade mom: "Ben, do you mean a theater? Like theee-uh-tuh? Or maybe...was it a rehearsal?"

REHEARSAL! Yes, as my keen investigative techniques uncovered (thanks Law & Order!), the Wichita Children's Theater held an assembly, The Three Little Pigs, with singing, acting...the whole cultural shebang.

Or, for Ben to tell it: a funeral.

Meanwhile, Roman and I enjoyed our own cultural experience at Exploration Place, playing retro video games. EP's traveling exhibit is Videotopia, a look back at early video games, so it's basically a free arcade minus the creepy people. And while I don't want to mislead my kids about museums, any that offers Ms. Pac Man and Pole Position is okay with me.

Then we saw what Rome could build in a day (30 minutes, really) with this leaning tower of blocks.

I have to hand it to you, Wichita. Our definitions of culture align nicely, even if your children's plays resemble funerals.

Losing it

And, just like that, Ben's too old for baby teeth. Well, one anyway.

We've had The Tooth Fairy on high alert (this thing has been loose so long that its replacement already half-arrived) so she (he?) should be flying by with a $2 bill this evening. And maybe Fairy will leave a little something for me, since I'm turning 36 tomorrow.

Which has me thinking of the things I'm too old for.

You know, things like energy drinks. And body glitter. Camping in tents. Party buses. Salt after 7 p.m. Booty shorts. The phrase "amazeballs." And Glamour Magazine. It's been a good run, Glamour, but if I haven't yet tried that "New Sex Trick He'll Love!" what are the odds I'll do so now?

Slim.

What I will do is list things that keep me young: you know, the kids. Anthony. Exercise. Friends. Old sex tricks. Laughing. And going to bed at 9 p.m

Speaking of, it's nearly time to hit the sack...but first, I'll just double check Fairy's work.

There's No Place Like...

...wherever your friends are.

Big news in Oz. Some life-long California friends are headed our way, set to move here mid-December.

That's right, just in time for a gool ol' Wichita winter wind bitch slap. But let's keep that quiet. Also, don't mention the allergies. Or the heat. Or the fact that all recipes begin, "take a block of cream cheese and..."

The friends: Shana, John and their girls. Last time Shana and I lived near each other, we were spiral-permed, over-tanned, and caterpillar-eyebrowed. (See below, circa 1994.)

Oh wait...that was just me. Shana was (and is) lovely. And authentic, loyal and hilarious.

They love the Midwest (an actual quote), and can't wait to get here. Likewise, Sanders Family, we can't wait to have you. You'll fit in perfectly with the crowd of wonderful Wichita goofballs we've befriended.

Shana, pencil us in to recreate the above scene...only minus brows. And minus tans. Plus fabric. And plus kids.

Ham Land

Am. At. Ham. Land.

Nope, that's not a postcard from Wichita. Or my latest cry for help. As coincidence would have it, those were the first four words on Benny's spelling test.

Wait, I think it was a coincidence. Maybe they're trying to acclimate my child to a place in which everything is bacon-wrapped. Even the bacon. Then battered and fried.

Anyway, it was his first ever, and...drumroll, please...

...my chip off the English block scored 100%.

...And Fast

"I've got it, Mom." Roman said at drop off, proving that he's as diplomatic as he is independent.

And fast. Man, how is Baby Roman almost 5?! And when do I stop calling him that?

So, I stopped helicoptering and left him with the charming Mrs. Saunders on day 1 of pre-K, after this one last picture.

 
Yep, lots of changes this week, especially versus last year.

There are the basics - rooms, procedures, new things for me to forget, etc. - but the experience is just...different. The start of the day is a perfect example; Roman's bull-by-the-horns approach isn't that surprising; what is surprising is Ben's new-found cling.

Last year, he barely let the car slow before he bolted out and raced alone to his classroom. And I'm sure we'll get back there, but so far he's pretty apprehensive. For him to tell it: "Mom, why do I have to go to first grade? I was so good at Kindergarten..."

I also think, now that he knows how to tell time, he's pretty bothered that he'll be there for seven whole hours.

And who can blame him? I haven't committed to something for seven straight hours since... ummm... well... whenever it was, I'll bet it made me grumpy.

Still, here he is, happily clinging to his happy mother. I mean, who am I to complain that he doesn't want to leave my side? That'll come too soon anyway.

A midday difference: lunch lady duty is more frequent...and more serious. On day 1, I had the unsavory job of marching a crying second grader to the principal's office. Dreadful all around (it was very "Green Mile"), but I guess that's what you get for a Catholic cafeteria F bomb. 

Another difference, this one at the end of each day: man, they're fast. Last year, they still had training wheels on their bikes, so they'd ride home as I walked. Now I have to literally sprint to keep up with them. And, no I still can't keep up. Here's my usual view as I do the P.E. teacher powerwalk to catch up.

But, some things never change. The boys miss each other during the day, then drive each other bananas at night.

Anthony still dresses like he too wears a school uniform...

...and I still look like garbage when I drop off the kids.

Sheesh, no wonder Roman wanted me out of the room...and fast.

What I Did Last Summer

With the Olympics behind us and school's start-up still a whole day away, I'm enjoying a tear-free 24 hours.

Uh, make that 19; Ben starts 1st grade tomorrow at 7:50 a.m. sharp.

So, being the last day of the boys' summer, we're also enjoying extended pajama-wearing hours and we ate breakfast for lunch.

No better time, then, to look back at this fun, funny summer we've had. The boys have grown like weeds, my outdoor plants have grown like dried herbs and I've grown to find a happy place in Wichita. Here's why:

• I've found a pool, a drink and some friends.
• We were in 68-degree California during Wichita's 111-degree days.
• My boys are happy.

So, behold, our good life this summer, through a quick recap.

We performed our own Olympic event, The Springboard (that's Roman):

...and The Spectator (my event, obviously):

 

We had a visit from Aunt Viv...

...and paid a visit to KC to see The Foxes:

 

Ben cozied next to his swimming ribbons, possibly to prevent brotherly theft, or to boost his self esteem as he slept:

And, speaking of accomplishments, Roman learned to cook his own eggs. My work is done here, folks.

The boys also learned to take pictures, resulting in only a few (dozen) R-rated shots, but mostly capturing beauts like this:

We also laked...

...and t-balled:

Then rounded it all out with a vacation to California, where we played...

...ate...

...and became thinkers?

Finally, in Colorado, we had the honor of seeing my brother-in-law Joey marry the wonderful Teresa:

Then my boys of summer caught their first Rockies (vs. Giants!) game at Coors Field:

We're up for a big day tomorrow, then a busy week to follow as Roman starts his last year of pre-school and I take up my dual role as frazzled mom and lunch lady extraordinaire.

But first, we'll get out of our PJs for one more pool day in this funnier-than-expected season. Summer, we anxiously await your return.

Oh Mio Dio

Velveeta in the food section is enough of a stretch, but in the Italian section?! Why, that's just offensive. Dillons, I love your international offerings, but please put this where it belongs: with the oils, plastics and poison. And kindly fill the space with cannoli shells.

Oh mio dio.

Yep, it's been an OMG (or OMD) week around here, including one event that will NOT be accompanied by a photo. So I'll paint the picture: Anthony and I were working on a shower curtain hanging project upstairs (and, incidentally, I highly recommend complicated building, measuring, drilling and hanging projects in close quarters with one's tired spouse).

Meanwhile, the boys were downstairs discovering the hilarity of combining an iPhone's photo capabilities with their private parts. About a dozen times.

I'm sorry, don't most boys wait until their 20s for that?!

Anyway, as funny as I secretly found it (before promptly erasing them, thankyouverymuch Federal prosecutors), the boys were sternly scolded, grounded and reminded that people who do those kinds of things wind up in jail.

Or politics.

In other news, more WTF than OMG, I'd like to introduce my newest accessory:

Man, I need a mani. 

Yes, that's an inhaler and, yes, apparently a 35-year-old can develop asthma, either allergy-induced (thanks Wichita!) or exercise-induced. Not sure what's causing mine, but I do know that nothing inspires confidence in spin class like a wheezing instructor.

But here's hoping the wheezing is behind me; a quick suck on that tailpipe helps me breathe more like myself and less like the 100-year-old lifelong smoker who's been inhabiting my body for a few months.

And, yes, to complete the look, I'll be un-retiring my glasses and headgear.

Land Unlocked

We've tried and tried to counter this summer's heat with the usual methods...

Hitting the pool daily for swim team and lessons:

Installing four glorious ceiling fans, made only better with these three glorious words from Anthony: "You were right."

Lighting other things aflame, figuring we'd feel relatively cool versus, say, a Roman Candle:

Indoor activities, like bitching and moaning. Oh, and bowling, which is more fun for the boys:

But we were finally cooled properly - and unlocked from this most land-locked place - with a trip to the lake yesterday with our dear friends, the Wilsons.

 Daniel Wilson, Roman & Ben

It was the boys' first(!) lake trip, first boat ride and first fling on a tube...and easily their best, most exhausting day ever. (Roman the daredevil, hopeful this morning: "Are we going on the boat again today?")

  Ben, Anthony & Roman

As for me...well, it felt like the return of my 16-year-old, laughing, lake-living self...with only a few differences: I was plus sunscreen (turns out that stuff works!), minus crushes on all the boys (never did work), and plus next-day tube-induced pain. Maybe there's a workout for that...?!

The Dog Ate My Blog

...okay, not really, but this busy, lazy summer (yes, both) has kept me from the computer.

Please accept the following as updates and excuses (again...yes, both):

#1: We were wrapped up in pomp & circumstance.
Ben graduated from Kindergarten amid a million activities, along with a song that was obviously written by a sadist. Sample line: "...just remember I'm little..." Come on!

#2: I was sick.
Yowza, was I sick. Like, "no wine for me" sick. A first. For a week. But rather than send me out to pasture like I suggested, Roman kindly read me back to wellness.

 

#3: We were at the game.
Ben has become quite the little hitter in T-ball, and he's finally learned to run in the following order: first, second, third, home. (That's Roman's "YES" in the background.)

#4: We had family in town.
Aunt Viv paid a visit! From Seattle, she was enroute to Berlin with the option of stopping in Paris, France or Wichita, Kansas. And would you believe...!?

#5: I was under water.
We've been total water dogs with daily swim team, lessons and other poolside slackery. Here, Ben (center) preps for the backstroke at his first meet:

#6: I got caught up at the gym.
My coworkers and I had the pleasure of working out with Hannah Curlee from The Biggest Loser; she came to Wichita and joined us for Group Power. Much to my chagrin, she didn't offer me any temptation challenges.

#7: We were chasing Anthony.
Damn, he's fast! In the time it took us to get out of the house and park, Anthony was nearing the finish line. He came in 5th among the 30-somethings at RiverRun this year, hands down our favorite Wichita event. Where else can you get bouncy castles AND an ice cold Newcastle at 9 a.m.?!

And finally...
#8 We were in traffic.
We're incredibly lucky. My boys have so rarely been in traffic that, when it happened last week, they were devastated. And so curious. "Why are you stopping?" "Where did these cars come from?" And my favorite from Roman, "Why are all these idiots parked on the highway?" (Yes, I'll cool it on the name-calling.)

Phew! Now that we're caught up...who wants to join us at the pool?

Wishful Thinking

"I wish for a funny summer," Roman said today at the fountain. It's always money well spent at Bradley Fair...or at least the best return on investment.

That penny is already buying us some laughs on this first day of vacation (for Roman, that is; he finished year one of pre-school yesterday.).

And I'm not just talking about my Gap swimsuit try-on session where the laughing was, of course, to keep from crying. Aside from the usual bikini dismay, I was reminded (again) that it's time to be less self-deprecating in front of my kids. Roman said (again) "Mom, if that's too small you'll look like a sausage."

Also time for him to sit outside of the dressing room. Duh.

Yep, it's been a funny week, with Ben's first practice t-ball game, where his enthusiasm collided with his shaky grasp of the rules; I'd never seen a kid run the bases in the wrong direction...and with such gusto.

So I don't fear any shortage of funny around here this summer, just as soon as we get through Ben's kindergarten graduation next week, marking the official end to my Kindergarten CryFest 2011-2012.

Roman, good call on that wish. Summer LaughFest 2012, here we come.

Here's to Moms

My mom managed a lot in her life: work, school, travel, family, in-laws, health issues and (the biggest adventure) two teenaged girls and all the fun that must have come with being our single parent. It didn't dawn on me then, but she was balancing a lot on her little body. Why didn't I realize it?! Because she never complained.

And now, as my guardian angel for nearly 20 years, she's balanced my nonsensical twists and turns. She's kept me safe and landed me in a great life.

Well done, Mom. I miss you.

So if I can give my kids one great lesson - something I've been thinking a bit about on this Mother's Day - it'll be about balance.

Not this kind of balance, which Roman demonstrated at Ben's soccer game today:

(Jogger balls? Juggle balls? I still don't know if this is an actual move.)

I mean the kind of balance that makes us happy, humble people. You know...
We get, so we give.
We play, so we work.
We spend, so we save.
We eat well, so we exercise.
We make a mess, so we clean.
We have great days, and some not great.

And this one falls into the great category. I'm sharing Mother's Day with my beautiful mother-in-law Eileen and with Anthony, who turns 36 today.

(Behold: Eileen and me not saving as we arrived at the Kansas Star Casino last night.)

So, today, as I celebrate my mom and all the other lovely moms in my lucky life, I propose a toast to good life balance.

See? We drink cheap champagne, so we buy good o.j. Ah, balance.

Happy Mother's Day, friends.

Ride On, Part 2

Wouldn't you know it?! Roman, who looked too little to walk, too little to talk, then too little to have an opinion (all things he does now with particular gusto), today became the smallest looking person ever to ride a bike without training wheels.

Yup, here he is today, cruising the driveway after Anthony removed the shackles:

I'm especially impressed by his his multi-tasking abilities: riding sans training wheels while paying compliments to my footwear ("Mom, I like your shoes") and pointing out dings in our neighbor's truck. Nothing gets by that kid.

Sidelines

Before all of yesterday's action in the Kansas sky, we had some pretty impressive action on the ground.

First, Ben's soccer game was (incredibly) not cancelled, despite hair-tangling winds and looming storm clouds. And thank goodness, because I hate to think we'd have missed his two(!) goals and post-goal celebrations, in which he throws his arms in the air (below), then scans for Anthony on the sidelines and delivers a straight-armed thumbs up.

(Ben's in white, in the middle)

 

Also on the sidelines, Roman showed off his skills which Anthony assures me are, indeed, skills. Funny, but they remind me of my own "all sizzle, no steak" soccer method, which involved a lot of motion, but very little ball handling.

In other ground-based action (still waiting for the storm to hit), back at the house Roman was reading up a surprising storm, his fave: Green Eggs and Ham.

...all leading up to the actual storm, which hit late and fast on Saturday night. The boys were first frightened, then fascinated and then absolutely wiped out. Thankfully we stayed on the sidelines of the storm too, bypassed by tornadoes but doused with rain. Here, we hunker down as spectators to the tornado show, while the boys drift off.

Lowered Expectations

I'm not sure what has Roman feeling melancholy post-nap, but here are three guesses:

1. He accidentally succumbed to sleep during quiet reading time.
2. He picked a book with very few pictures and a lot of small type.
3. He just found out what he should have expected all these years.

(It's What to Expect the Toddler Years)

Case closed on what put him to sleep. But now I have my own mystery to solve: where has that book been all these years?!

Ride On

Ben made three proclamations yesterday, on his sixth birthday:

1. I'm not taking baths anymore, just showers.
2. Dad needs to take the training wheels off my bike.
3. (To Roman) God let me be born first so I'd be taller than you.

I was cool with #1 and terrified of #2. As for #3...well, it remains unaddressed, since I can neither confirm nor deny. I just keep my fingers crossed that they'll both grow taller than me.

So, back to #2. Ben hadn't even attempted a two-wheeler, so I was prepping my shoe-tying persistence pep talk...only replacing bunny ears with speed, gravity and concrete.

But off went the wheels, crossed went our fingers (again) and...would you believe?!

Our little six-year-old boy rode it like a pro! That is, a pro who only turns left, which I believe is a NASCAR driver. 

Here's a live action shot:

And, yes, Ben did eventually run into our neighbor's red truck. Nevertheless, we were amazed, Ben was thrilled and he ended a lengthy, lovely birthday celebration feeling like king of the sidewalk. In fact, I'll keep this short because he's waiting to ride again.

Grand Theft Marbles

Roman came home from pre-school with a pocket full of marbles today. Super cool, glittery marbles, unlike anything we own.

Uh oh.

"Are those ours?" I asked. After all, I have an A-plus grasp of our home's contents; Just ask Anthony, who receives an unwanted refrigerator inventory every time he opens its door.

So, Roman tried to pull one over on me ("Yeah, I got them in the upstairs closet," he said. Uh, is there a gift shop up there I'm not aware of?), but thankfully he's inherited my inability to pull off a whopper.

Oh, and I watch a lot of Law & Order so I'm a pretty skilled interrogator.

Fast forward through my "so very disappointed" speech, his crying and my secret crying, and we returned to pre-school where the wonderful Mrs. Wilson - trying to eat her own lunch - accepted them graciously, told Roman she still loves him, assured me privately that he's not the first marble thief (they are super cool), then sent us away on Spring Break.

So, a D-minus day for parenting, but I do think his punishment - returning to the scene of the crime - worked for now. I mean...does this look like the face of a felon?!

(Yes.)

Occupy Chick-fil-A?

This week marks the openings of Cabela's and Chick-fil-A here in Wichita. Big news folks. BIG. Highly anticipated stuff...by everyone but me.

No offense to Cabela's, of course; I'm simply more in- than outdoorsy. But, I'm hoping it'll lure some of my more adventurous friends here for a visit.

C-f-A, on the other hand, I could do without, since I'm not a fan of chicken. Or fried food. Or long lines. Or homophobes. (They heavily support Prop 8.)

My opinion aside, it's a fitting pair, since Cabela's no doubt sold some of these tents:

It's a little hard to make out, but that's Chick-fil-A (opening tomorrow, not today), with a parking lot full of temporary residents. It's Occupy Chick-fil-A, I guess, but the only protesting these folks are doing is against their Wednesday paychecks and Thursday digestive systems.

But it got me thinking:
1. What would be worth an overnight stay in a tent? Concert tickets? Cheap TVs? I can't think of a single thing, but maybe that's just my indoorsy side showing through.

I did once get up extra early and skip Race for the Cure (nice) for the opening of Super Target in Denver. But we called it "Race for the Super Target" and made a Komen donation, so it's cool, right? And it was during my 20s, so it shall be stricken from the record.

2. Would this happen at a gym? Two national chains are opening locations in town early next year. While I don't welcome the competition to Genesis and, frankly, can't believe there's demand for it (see above picture), I wonder, will it draw overnight visitors who can't wait to hop aboard a treadmill?

Oh, I can sure dream.

P.S. I wonder if these campers are aware: there's already a Chick-fil-A in town, about 4 miles from their campsite...