R.I.P. Doc

Saddened today to learn of the passing of Paul Newman. I didn't know him, of course. But I knew of him. And from what I knew of him, he was one of the most truly decent, honest people who walk this earth.

I know he got in big trouble with his wife and others for his statement about why he didn't cheat on his wife : Why go out for hamburger when you have steak at home (paraphrased)? And yes, it wasn't exactly cool to compare your wife to a cut of meat. But I found it utterly charming. The words may have been imperfect but the sentiment behind them was. (And, for the record, if anyone has any grainy footage of him cheating or a secret love child -- I don't want to know. Just keep it to yourself. Just as I didn't really need to know about Bill Cosby's indiscretions, I don't want to know if you dig anything up on Paul Newman. Heroes and role models are hard to come by these days. No need to knock them all down just because you can. Not that I think you will, but just in case...)

And the food. Oh, the food. With Newman's Own I can buy high-quality organic foods AND feel great about the price because the profits go to charity. How awesome is that?

He was an unabashed liberal, but he wasn't an elitist type -- you know, the ones who never dirty their hands or drink anything without a vintage. I mean, the guy loved auto racing, one of the most redneck sports around. As one of the few liberal NASCAR families (not so much me and Chas, but Steph and Eddie for sure) we related. And we loved him for it.

Acting -- yes, he was an actor, too. And while I adored him in films like Butch Cassidy, The Sting and Cool Hand Luke, the role that forever and completely endeared him to me as an actor was Doc Hudson in Cars. Because he touched my boys in that film. And because he was great in it. Still, I won't mourn his passing as an actor. He had a long run and the films are still there to enjoy. I mourn his passing as a human being who made the world a little bit better for having been on it.

(And here's a great story that makes my point so much better.)

But never during choice time...

I was reminded of an old Steve Martin bit the other day. Steve-o used to say he never smoked pot. Except in the late evenings. But only then. Oh, and maybe early-mid morning... it went on and on until he finally said definitively, "But never at dusk!"

The occasion was talk of kindergarten and crying. Turns out, the boys have both cried a bit at school when they miss me. When? Eddie: "Well, at the pledge of allegiance. And at center time."Chas: "And then we both cried after lunch. And a little bit at recess. Eddie: "A few times."

I don't know whether to laugh or join them in a good cry.

Construction work: More fascinating than Phineas and Ferb.

Work began today on our addition. So far it involves tearing out our small wooden deck and our small concrete patio, along with digging the foundation. I'd post a picture, but frankly, I'm too lazy to take one. The boys are riveted, staring out the windows with the same sort of expression normally reserved for the Disney Channel. And now they REALLY don't want to go to school tomorrow and miss an episode of "Tearing Up the Back Yard!"

Chas has researched this...

So the other night, Steph went in to give the boys their bedtime snuggles. As she left the room, I heard Chas yell indignantly, "That was not a snuggle!" She returned and then reported that he had told her that a snuggle involves a big person and two small people, or just one small person, ALL under the covers. He knows this because, "I looked it up on the computer."

That's my little liar. Just wait til he really CAN Google. Then we're all in real trouble

For Halloween, Chas will be a Costco employee.

While doing his homework (In kindergarten! An abomination!) Chas stuck the pencil behind his ear, looked up and said, "Look, Mommy. I look like a Costco worker!" And he was, of course, right. I ran to grab my camera, laughing all the way.

Tell me if you've seen this one before...

So I feel a bit like I'm living a particularly bad episode of "The Brady Bunch" or maybe "Facts of Life." You know the one: Protagonists briefly take posession of someone else's beloved pet. Beloved pet dies. Protagonists desperately search for identical replacement to keep the death a secret. Protagonists overlook something stupid like gender and get found out.

Here's the scoop. The boys both got beloved -- and I mean BELOVED -- stuffed Koalas when we went to San Diego. Getting the first one, in fact, was quite an ordeal because Eddie saw it, loved it, had heart broken by it when what seemed like the only gift shop that stocked it closed before he could make his purchase. (But that's another episode in which I think we somehow leave Dad's important architectural drawings or some secret voodoo thing or something on a roller coaster. I may be mixing these up.)

Anyway, they sleep with these Koalas (both of which are named Flyer for reasons that escape me) and often drag them into our bed (aka "The Big Bed") when they join us at 0-dark-30 in the morning. (Begin to see the foreshadowing here...) I changed the sheets last week and noticed absolutely nothing. But I had a meeting that night and didn't get them moved to the dryer. I asked Steph to do it in my absence. She noticed a Flyer (Chas') in with the wet but clean sheets. Assuming there had been some urine incident, she tossed him in the dryer.

He emerged a bit worse for wear. Actually, everything was OK but his tufts of long black ear hair. They were matted and slightly melted. This displeased Chas greatly.

Thinking myself smart, I sneaked in and ordered a replacement FROM THE SAN DIEGO ZOO. I paid for shipping. It would be worth it, I figured. Meanwhile, we told the boys that sometimes a stuffed koala can regrow its ear hair. OK, admittedly this is where the story gets a little weird, but stay with me.

Today, the package arrived. By golly, it was the same koala! I was a genius! I hid Old Burnt Ears. I even cut a small notch in the tag of the new Flyer to replcate the marking we had given the old one to ensure that they could tell them apart. Then I put New Flyer in bed where Old Burnt Ears had been. Sure enough, when Chas found him, he was thrilled to see the ear hair had regrown! But. Wait. His face. His face is lighter. I didn't notice it until Chas said something, but sure enough, the face is a tad lighter. The whole fur of the thing is a sort of mottled gray so I didn't notice, but he did. He carefully examined the body and noticed a couple of other spots that were every so slightly different.

Then he said something that made my blood run cold. "It's like someone took a new Flyer and cut his tag to look like my Flyer." We did some fast talking and managed to convince him that when miracles like stuffed animals regrowing hair occur, well, there are bound to be side effects.

And I'm much more careful now to check what is in the sheets when I wash them.

The Feared Day...

Today, Eddie and Chas started Kindergarten. Eddie was very excited through breakfast -- pancakes! Then, the dread began. He said his tummy hurt really bad and he was going to "frow up." I told him he'd be fine. Chas was a bit more brave as you can see. But he did admit, "Well, guys, I am a little bit scared."



I worked in the classroom -- which was very necessary because there's a lot for a poor teacher to do. And this was half the class! (They staggered the start day.) To my mind, this is the size a full class should be. (Three years ago, it was: I have a friend who reported that her daughter's kindergarten class was just 17 children. E and C's is currently at 26, but they are trying hard to get more into the full-time program ad drop the class size by one or two. Still too large for me.)



The day went well, including lunchtime margarita for Mommy. They had a great time -- Eddie is pretty sure he counted higher than anyone else in his class. Chas told me the reading time was "the opposite of fun," but then said he was teasing. Or not. He went back and forth so much I'm not sure what he really thought of it. A couple hours afterward -- they were bushed -- Eddie got a bad headache and sick stomach again. I'm sure it's stress, but I'm remaking the doctor appointment that I'd canceled today when I thought he was over the headaches. Ugh.



Oh, and we celebrated Flyer's and Flyer's (beloved stuffed koalas) birthday. We've decided we'll celebrate it on the first day of each school year.

Chas cuddled Flyer II while Eddie could barely make himself stand...

Mr. Confident and Mr. Not

Eddie puts on a brave face.

Today I cried.

OK, not so much cried as misted-up. Here's the situation. The boys start kindergarten on Monday. Eddie has been having headaches and tummy aches for a couple of weeks and I strongly suspect them to be brought on by the stress of the unknown KINDERGARTEN.

This means that once again, I have to be the grown up in this relationship. SO unfair. Anyway, I've been doing a jolly good job of keeping my own emotions about this whole abysmal state of affairs in check. Then, today, driving back from Seattle where we saw A. the allergist and more importantly B. visited the Children's Museum, I glanced in the rear view mirror. This is what I saw:

Or, more accurately, that is what I saw with my eyes. With my heart, this is what I saw:

In his expression, his eyes, his nose and of course, his position, I could see that tiny, fragile baby I met 5 1/2 years ago. I loved him and his brother then, but honestly, not as much as I do now.
Still, I miss those babies. I miss the grinning, drooling, crawling babies they became and the giggling, mischievious toddlers who replaced them. I miss the inquisitive, creative, physical preschoolers who came after that.

Don't get me wrong. I want them to grow up and have amazing experiences and all that good stuff that parents are supposed to want for their children. It's just that I wish they'd do it all just a little more slowly. Because the past 5 1/2 years have rushed by so quickly I may lose my breath.