Delicious

Last week as we were driving up to visit friends in Ashland, Oregon, we stopped at Lake Shasta for the night. At breakfast, both the kids ordered hot chocolate and, as expected, there was a spill. Not Jonah, the 2 1/2 year old, but Zoe the BIG kid. She spilled the WHOLE cup all over herself. Luckily, she had diluted it with like 9 little creamers, so it wasn’t too hot. But she was

covered

in hot chocolate. A chocolate covered Zoe. So, we excuse ourselves and hoof it back to our room to clean her up. On the way there, she licks her arm and says, “MMMMmmm! I taste GOOD!” And it reminded me of this, which I found on StumbleUpon.

Zoe deals another doozie

A conversation from Sunday:

Zoe: Mama, if I was an ant and you found me in your house, would you kill me?

Me: Uh….(pause)….If I knew it was a Zoe-ant I would very gently pick you up and put you back outside where you belong.

Zoe: Oh.

Geez. Where does she get this stuff from?

A nod to Brutally Honest Mondays

So, I confess. I have gained 10 pounds in the last three months. And it all seems to have gone to my tummy. But this morning, as I was getting dressed, Zoe asked me if I was going to have another baby. If that isn’t brutal, I don’t know what is. Even if it wasn’t Monday.

The dichotomy of motherhood

As my babies become less baby-like and more people-like, I find myself feeling torn between two completely opposite emotions. I am relieved that I have a bit more time that I can use to do what I want (see previous post…obviously doing nothing good) and I am sad that Zoe and Jonah are growing up so fast.

Yesterday, though, I had such a good day with Zoe that I didn’t have the feelings of wishing she was still little. My big 4-year old and I had a mama-and-me day and we went to see Chihuly at the de Young museum. If you happen to live in the Bay Area, you MUST go see this exhibition. It was incredible. Zoe came out of it and said, “Chi-HOOOO-li is an amazing artist!” (I’m not making that up.)

Glass ceiling

We made the requisite stop in the museum store where I agreed to buy her a Chihuly Artist Kit for kids, and a puzzle for Jonah. Zoe also wanted a purple pencil sharpener. We’ve been trying to teach her that things cost money, and that money comes from working instead of just magically out of our wallets. So I told her if she wanted the pencil sharpener she’d have to see if she had enough money. She did, and she was so proud to be able to buy it herself. (She had earned the money from helping to put Jonah to bed a few nights before….I was joking when I told her I’d give her $5 if she could help her Daddy put Jonah to bed. She promptly got up, picked some stories she knows by heart to read to him and was mostly successful.) We have been talking about making a list of chores for her to do to earn some money so she can buy herself the infinite list of things she asks for whenever we are in any retail establishment. The thrill of purchasing the sharpener made her hungry for more, and she said she wanted to do some chores when we got home. (I’m not making this up either.) Alrighty!

Zoe at Chihuly

After the de Young, we went to see the butterfly exhibit at the Conservatory of Flowers where we actually got to observe a Monarch butterfly emerge from its cocoon and watch as its wings went from crumply to beautifully expanded. It was so neat. And we had such a good time. I felt a little bad that I didn’t bring Jonah along, but in hindsight I realized the days agenda really wasn’t geared toward an 18 month old.

We were both hungry and so had lunch at the Beach Chalet, then headed home. Zoe fell asleep during the car ride and took a nice long nap, but when she awoke, here are the chores she completed:
1. Dusted the living room furniture.
2. Vacuumed the bench in the kitchen and under the table.
3. Picked up her shoes and jackets from the living room, put them away.
4. Picked up Jonah’s toys from living room, put them away.
5. Picked up her room, dusted her dresser.

For this, she earned $1.25. So when I am feeling sad that she isn’t the little baby she used to be, I am going to think back on this day and remember what a great time we had and be thankful for the present.

Big Questions

Zoe has been handing out some doosies lately. On Saturday, she was sitting in the car eating a Popsicle while I cleaned my car (yes, I know…two opposing activities). Out of nowhere, she asks if I know cheezus. I thought she was asking about goldfish crackers so I asked if she wanted some crackers.

Zoe: “Do you know Cheezus?”
Me: (thinking she wanted something else to eat…) Do you want some goldfish crackers?”
Zoe: (annoyed) “No. Do you know CHEEZ-us?
Me: “Do you mean Jesus?”
Zoe: “Yes. Some bad men did things to him.”
Me: “Um. Yeah. Where did you hear this?” Note: we are not at all religious, so I am now confounded about where this is coming from…
Zoe: “Daddy.”

So I asked Stan about this and he told me that with all the missions and churches they visited while in Mexico, Zoe was fascinated with all the images of Jesus and kept asking about his wounds and why people hurt him.

Then this morning I am driving her to school and we are, as usual, listening to NPR. There is a story about a man who flew fighter planes in WWII, in spite of the fact that he was African American. At that time, African Americans were only given menial jobs because of a study that was done after WWI that claimed that “negroes were a sub-species of human”. (I’m not kidding….here is a link to the story) After listening to this story, Zoe asks:

Zoe: “When will we die?”

After a moment of panicking because I don’t know exactly what to say, I decide on this:

Me: “Not for a long time, sweetie.”
Zoe: “YAY! Can I have a lollipop?”

My fabulous vacation to the British Virgin Islands

Or: A Series of Unfortunate Events, Martin-style

So, my MIL decides over Christmas to get married to a wonderful guy, and they decide to have the wedding in Virgin Gorda. Okay, so maybe Stan and I suggested that might be cool. Whatever. So, they settle on getting married on 3/25/08. But I have to go and ruin it by having to go to work – an offsite meeting that I can’t miss on 3/26/08. (I dunno…I’ve been there 5 months already…I don’t know what the big deal is about how much vacation I’ve taken. Two weeks in India. One week in Yosemite. One week in Mexico. Two days in BVI. What??!??) Okay. Back to the subject at hand. So, they move the wedding to Monday 3/25 to accommodate me, thankyouverymuch. We leave the Bay Area on Sunday, 7 am flight. This is where the fun begins.

0.1 {Prologue to Sunday} My BIL gets robbed at gunpoint while getting cash at an ATM for his vacation.

1. Sunday: we wake up late and rush like bats out of hell to get to the airport.

2. 7 am flight is delayed. For three hours. Mechanical problem.

3. Can’t fix plane. Get another one.

4. That plane is broken too. We are now going to miss our connection to St. Thomas, which means there is no way we can make the wedding at 11 am the next day. Wedding must be delayed.

5. We get re-routed to Tortola Island through New York, but have to spend the night in a hotel. When we get to JFK airport, there is no luggage. Shit. We have exactly one diaper left for Jonah.

6. Arrive at hotel around midnight. Request 4 am wake up call. If you’re doing the math, that means 4 hours of sleep if we had been able to go to sleep immediately. With the two kids. Stan calls American Airlines to see about our luggage. They don’t know where it is.

7. Monday, 4 am: take cab to Walgreens to get diapers, underwear, and tampons. Great.

8. Arrive in Tortola, meet Alice and Jon, take ferry to Virgin Gorda. Get a voicemail from my sister: “Hi Ali. Give me a call – I want to talk about Mom.” I think she has something to vent, like Mom bought her girls more dolls or something. Oh, no. My mom has been hospitalized. Thought she was having a heart attack. (She wasn’t, and she’s fine…it was just over-exertion. But still.)

9. We all have to find borrowed/new clothes to wear to the wedding. All our fancies were in our suitcases.

10. Wedding is beautiful. So are Painkillers.

11. I prepare to leave the next morning at 8 am. F*%K. I haven’t even gone swimming in the lovely, warm ocean. Not that I could have, since I didn’t have my bathing suit. It was in my suitcase.

12. Tuesday morning, 7 am: leave for Virgin Gorda airport. [read: long, gravel path they claim is a runway]. Weather is stormy, pouring rain, wind sock flying straight out. Did I mention I have a fear of flying? Especially in small planes? I call Stan to tell him I love him…you know, just in case. Then a tiny freaking airplane lands.

Me: You have got to be kidding me. I’m not getting on that plane.

Stan: I didn’t think you’d like it.

Me: Oh, okay. That’s not my plane. Here is my plane landing. (thought to myself, not vocalized: “Wow. That plane is going really fast and there isn’t much room left on the runway.”)

pause

Me: The airplane just crashed.

Stan: What?!?

Me: The airplane just crashed INTO THE AIRPORT.

Both: laughter [Note: no one was hurt. However, I am notoriously bad at inappropriate laughter]

Stan: I guess you can stay longer now?

You know I couldn’t possibly be making this up, but just in case you don’t believe me, read this.

13. I call my boss, explain that my plane has just crashed (sans moi), and I won’t be able to make the meeting in person. Can I just call in?

14. Did I mention that my Zoloft was in the lost suitcase? (Yes, I do know you’re not supposed to check medicine…) Did you know you’re not supposed to quit cold turkey? Otherwise, this is what can happen. I did get that s*!t refilled this morning and now I am almost feeling normal again.

So, I am home now, sans family because this is Stan’s spring break week. They’ll all be home on Monday. Yes, I will have three whole days alone. {guilty smile. bad mama.} American Airlines still has no clue where our luggage is. I even looked at all three airports where they would logically be as I was traveling home. This I do not understand. I’ll save that rant for later.

Do I sound like I had a great time, or what? We Martins know how to take a vacation.

My little gentleman

So, this morning as we are scurrying about trying to get out of the house, Zoe misplaced her Ariel doll that she was planning on bringing for show and tell. It was a little doll that you can change from mermaid into princess with the switch of an outfit. Needless to say, Zoe was quite upset about this, crying and carrying on. Jonah (my one year old) looks at her with a concerned expression, walks over to the tissue box, takes a tissue and hands it to Zoe. My sweet, sweet boy. (We did end up finding Ariel, so all ended quite nicely.)

Independence

Zoe is having a sleep over at her grandma’s house tonight…it was her idea and she’s been so excited about going. She packed her own bag this morning, including about a dozen pairs of panties. We were hugging goodnight and I was feeling a little separation anxiety of my own. She was totally fine. Then, as we drove away, she blew me a kiss.