Eddie is a little poop.

Eddie's name in playdough002
Originally uploaded by MommyCheryl

But of course, this is playdough -- I promise. And Eddie made this himself, without prompting. No ego problems for that kid.

Toxic Thomas

0607 Toxic Thomas003
Originally uploaded by MommyCheryl

This is the surprisingly small cache of lead-infused Thomas toys we mailed back after the recall notice hit the media. Note the chipped and missing paint on the yellow cargo box. I'm relatively certain those flakes will be to blame should either boy not make it to Harvard.

The radishes of our labor

0607 The radishes of our labor008
Originally uploaded by MommyCheryl

The choice of impatient gardners everywhere, the radish has provided the closest thing to instant gratification that can be found in a vegetable patch. The boys were pleased with the harvest, though they found the taste of their radishes were not as sweet as the round bulbousness seemed to suggest to them. Mommy, however, thought them delicious.

Frenemies? Arch Nemesi?

Playing Outside174
Originally uploaded by MommyCheryl

Whatever you call them, these two have a troubled relationship. On the left is Daniel, the neighbor kid. On the right, of course, is Eddie. Daniel is about 6 months older than Eddie and Chas. He starts kindergarten this year.

Anyway, they play together. But there's a problem, see. And the problem is that Daniel doesn't always (or, honestly, ever) want to do exactly what Eddie wants him to do. And Eddie doesn't always (again, really, ever) want to do exactly what Daniel wants him to do.

Previously, this manifested itself by Daniel announcing that Chas is his friend and Eddie is, ptew, nothing to him. This caused great sobs of heartbreak from Eddie and a shrug of understanding from Chas.

But alas, things have taken a turn for the violent. Yesterday, they were playing with a bunch of gymnastics mats we've inherited. Eddie was following his cousin's lead in setting up "a ob-stickle course." Daniel was not a fan of this idea. I went off to water Eddie's beloved garden until I thought I heard Eddie crying. When I investigated, Daniel was gone, his older brother was walking into their house and the kid from across the street explained that Daniel had gotten upset with Eddie's harping about the ob-stickle course and responded by tacking and pummelling Eddie with his fists.

Today, much the same dispute more or less -- though I totally see Daniel's point of view as Eddie was tired out and sobbed loudly and quite annoyingly over everything. He was, for example, playing King Kong and was so upset by his cousin's attempts to be Godzilla that he freaked out. I told him if he didn't stop crying he would have to go inside. He sucked it up, turned and gave a King-Kong roar but couldn't maintain the facade. The roar turned into a sob because, frankly, other people weren't following his script.

Foolishly, with this vibe in the air, I walked inside to move along some laundry. (Hey, there were two older kids out there -- I figured they could keep the peace for three lousy minutes. Let's just say these are not the boys you want to send to lessen tensions in Somalia.) In the three minutes that took me, all hell broke loose. I came out to find Eddie sobbing and Daniel beating a hasty retreat. Eddie's cousin, Gavin, was yelling that Eddie was bleeding and indeed he was. It was a scratch to the nose. But Gavin said they were in a "big fight" with both boys trading blows -- slaps, punches and pushes. Eddie was bereft.

Before long, Daniel came back out and Eddie told him he was sorry. Daniel's brother prodded him to reciprocate but he just looked sour. I asked if he didn't want to say he was sorry. "I'm feeling a little scared," he said. I assured him that our household was done hitting and pushing for the day and he muttered "sorry." The rest of the afternoon was spent with each boy reminding the other of the ownership of whatever particular playthings they were using.

Chas, meanwhile, gets along with everyone.

Hacking My Cheryl's Blog

This is not Cheryl. This is Stephanie, aka "the husband," aka tech support. I just added a feed of Cheryl's fab photos on the right. Click and enjoy.

I also added the links to Amazon. Click and buy.

Amazing foreskins! Now retractable!

OK, so I know he's going to want to kill me for this when he gets older, so I won't say which son this is about. But that won't help...

Anyway, when the boys were born we opted not to circumcise. This was not a political decision or anything like that. We aren't marching in the streets for the rights of men to have their foreskins. Honestly, we planned to do it. But they were born early and, well, it never really came up in the hospital. Plus, we didn't like the main circumciser in our county -- perhaps the fact that he enjoys doing it so much that he performs the vast majority of non-Mohel circumcisions should have been a clue that he's a bit "off."

But really, we're just kind of squeamish wimps. Not having penises (peni?) ourselves, it just seemed kinda nerve wracking to have something cut off of them. I know, if you had your son circumcised, it hurts very briefly and not as much as you would imagine. They get over it quickly and it slows transmission of STDs. I totally agree. I know, if you don't believe in circumcision, it's a barbaric act of torture and mutilation that has no reasonable medical purpose. I totally agree.

OK, here'sthe truth. I have no idea how much it hurts but Steph was at a Bris for a friend and said it seemed perfectly humane. On the other hand, I can't help but think it doesn't seem pleasant -- especially in a cold doctor's office, strapped down with your legs spread. I imagine context has a lot to do with it. We didn't have it done to or for our boys but we might have, given a slightly different set of circumstances.

So anyway, here's the deal. When boys are born, their foreskins are all attached and stuff. You can't pull them back. But somewhere between 4 and 5, that changes. It's gradual and starts shortly after birth I guess, but it still struck us as sort of a sudden development. We always tell them to pull back their fiveskins ('cause they're so much bigger than foreskins) but usually not much happens. Until recently. Now, the boy who owns the retractable version seems to think he's got a cool new toy. And I suppose he does. Anyway, it looks extraordinarily um, red and tender as you would expect from something that had been so well sheathed for so long. In fact, it looks downright painful -- like it could start bleeding at any moment. But I tell him not to hurt himself and he gives me a look of such innocent satisfaction and says, "It doesn't hurt, Mommy. It feels goooood."

I know. TMI.