Tempe Family Fun Run

This morning #1 ran her first race. It was a one mile fun-run along the pathway next to the Tempe Town Lake. I told her that she could rest and walk as much as she wanted but the desire to win was too great for my four year old. She was so matter-of-fact explaining to me, "If I walk, I won't win." How did she get so competitive? After the race, I discovered that the one mile run wasn't timed or placed, but #1 was so determined to have won that I thought it would be harmless to just placate her and tell that yes, she was winner of the 4 year olds. I hate telling lies to my kids, of any kind. If its a sticky situation, I'll try to answer creatively. Like, "Where does Santa live?" I would say, "People say he lives in the North Pole." I know technically it isn't totally honest because I'm not correcting a false assumption, but I feel a little better than just totally going along with the myth. So my telling #1 today that she won was a difficult decision but I felt like she deserved that satisfaction after trudging a mile.
It didn't take long for me to regret it. Little did I know she was a trash talker. As our family waited at the cross-walk next to another family that had kids who were wearing the racing numbers, #1 said in a really loud voice, "I'm so glad I won that race and beat all the other kids." She totally intended for the other kids to hear it. That wasn't the end of it. She insisted having her picture taken with another little girl, so the other little girl could have a picture with the winner. How many times this morning has #1 mentioned she is the winner? Maybe 43.

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I wanted to post this picture of #3 because I love that her hands are blurry because she was flailing so quickly. Sometimes at night I'll put her in bed with me and until she calms down, my face is beaten by those convulsing limbs.

squishing spiders with his bare hands

My boy, #2, who also happens to be 2 years old, is not afraid of much. He picks up live spiders and squishes them between two fingers. He inserts fingers into the opening of ant hills. He puts his hand into his dirty diapers and grabs a handful of brown stuff to show he is fearless.* All the things I'm afraid of or grossed out by, #2 revels in proving his bravery. Because he such a brute it always pleasantly surprises me when he inadvertently does something not so manly, like trying on my hair-band.

doesn't he look pretty?

* Remember the Life of Pi?

#1 wishes she was me

Tonight while we were walking home from #1's singing group rehearsal, #1 totally ate dirt (granite rock, to be exact) when she tripped over a low bush.  When we got home and examined it in the light we discovered quite a chunk missing from her elbow and a few other fairly deep wounds.  She was dripping blood and was very upset. I cleaned her up and calmed her down, feeling very satisfied in my current role of comforter and healer, one of my favorite but rare roles.

Later while we ate dinner she said to me "Sometimes I wish I were you, Mom."  Considering this a good thing, but only half-heartedly trying to deflect the compliment I said something like, "Why would you want to be me?" I totally expected her to reply with some sweet sentiment regarding my nurturing spirit, or mothering abilities.  Her practical answer was "If I were you, then you'd be me and you would have been the one to fall."  Nice.

the Cha Cha

Ok, so this weekend was the big race, the Cha Cha. There have been a few inquires regarding my performance and some requests for pictures of the day. THERE WILL BE NO PICTURES! (at least of me) and as for my performance only a select few people on this earth will ever know the particulars of that awful, horrible, no good very bad run. My time is inconsequential, however I may be living with the terrible reasons behind that suck-y time for quite a while.

Among the people that beat me: 9 year old Zane Fink, 95 year old D. Dunn, and 8 year old Jazzlyn Beam. However, I'm proud to say that I kicked the trash out of 95 year old John McCowen. LOSER!!

Oktoberfest, way out west

Where can you find all colors of people sporting lederhosen, hundreds of drunk Grandmas, brautworsts for sale next to kettle corn, cheap carni rides, a cowboy cover band and an accordian band called the Dummkopfs? At the Oktoberfest! Way out west in Tempe, Arizona. We might have been the only people not staggering around with beer steins in hand. We were there early in the night, so the drinking people we very friendly and lively. Take for instance this couple who were drunkenly happy to pose with us.

No, I wasn't drinking - not quite sure why I have that wild-stare in my eyes.

Having never been to an Oktoberfest before, I hadn't foreseen the blatant exposure my kids would have to drinking. The Kinderfest activities and rides is what attracted us to the festival in the first place. I guess it gave me a good opportunity to re-enforce to my kids that we don't drink.

Here is a picture of our Oktoberfest gang, watching a performance of an accordian band play the Chicken Dance. Andy, Jane, Spouse with #1 and #2

And here are #1 and #2 whetting their taste for carnival rides - the AZ State Fair begins next week.

Yesterday was picture day at preschool for #1. I found her practicing poses in the bathroom, so I pulled her out and tried to convince her to look natural.

#2 loves hiding places: in his laundry hamper, in between the mattress and his sheets, the kitchen pantry. Yesterday I found him in the cabinet under my bathroom sink. Q-tips were everywhere, as well as unwrapped tampons and sponge curlers. I caught him in the act of stuffing his mouth full of Hall's menthol cough drops (the gross kind). I decided he needed to learn his lesson so I just let him finish stuffing. Unwrapped, they do look like a yummy cherry hard-candy, I didn't blame him for assuming so. A minute later he was gagging and forcefully spitting out the drops. He was so disgusted he tried wiping the flavor off his tongue with the back of his hand. This is a picture of him looking for trouble in my pantry.

mama's takin' us to the zoo

This is the cage I put #2 in when he misbehaves.
Ok, it's really the giraffe look-out at the zoo. We got there at about feeding time, so I fed them my kids. (Still joking here) We did arrive at feeding time so we saw the two ton rhinos munching their breakfast, as well as the two story tall giraffes. The rhinos didn't eat the giraffes for breakfast, the giraffes ate their own breakfast. ( Is thing on?)

The zoo was hot and humid, but a good time. The kids begged for overpriced churros and #2 couldn't keep his hands and mouth off the urine soaked ropes in the monkey habitat. We watched a mother orangutan playfully wrestle her little baby and then stroke the baby's back with her long so-human-like finger. Just think, in a few hundred years her kind will have taken over the earth and they'll be feeding us humans like pets.

In honor of the Biggest Loser (which I totally am, and not in the weight loss way) which I'll be watching tonight alone, I've made a double batch of snickernoodle cookies. Sweet spouse teaches a class at ASU on Tuesday nights so I've made a habit of eating fatty treats while I watch other fatties get fit. It's a double edged sword; I feel 1)totally inspired and motivated by these amazing people to get in better shape myself and 2) like I'm not even close to being that fat so I might as well just keep sitting on my can stuffing cookies down the hatch. You see, I justify my cookie binging as a way to ensure that I'll do an extra long run in the morning.

What is maybe?

#1 is always asking questions. And recently they have gotten pretty deep. "What is maybe?" "What is but?" How do you answer those questions? I have a college degree, (granted-the last five years I've been in a mental coma) but I can't muster up enough words to accurately describe maybe - can you?

This is a picture of my #1 and #2 eating marshmallows off the floor. This is what you have to do when your mother is starving you.