Mar. 14th, 2010 01:58 pm
janradder: (Default)
The sun is shining, the windows are open, and the last bits of snow are nearly gone from the back yard. A Red Sox spring training game plays on the computer as I fold laundry and boys play quietly yet enthusiastically nearby. In a few minutes, we'll be heading out to the library, and then we'll return home to ride bikes and enjoy the afternoon outdoors. It's not spring yet, but damn if it doesn't feel like it's already here.
janradder: (Default)
My boys are upstairs arguing about whether or not Hüsker Dü just screamed words ("Well, they screamed different words," Arie said, "not just the same word over and over." "No, but they were just screaming," insisted Éiden.). From there they went on to arguing if there was a band called Sugar and if it was Grant Hart or Bob Mould who was in that band, and whether or not either one of them just had a band without a name.

(In the end, I set the straight. And I have to say, I'm kind of happy they were so passionate about their geeky argument. Now they want to see a video of Pete Townshend smashing his guitar.)
janradder: (godzilla)
It's warm today (in the 30's) so when Arie got home from school I sent him and his brother out to play in the backyard. Unfortunately, to them "playing" meant yelling and screaming viciously at one another until I told them if I saw one more fight going on they'd have to come in.

"But Daddy!" Arie shouted. "We're having fun!"

The "fun" lasted a couple more minutes until Arie screamed at his brother that he was going to punch him hard. Then I brought Arie in and sent him up to his room (loudly complaining about the unfairness of life, the universe and fathers) and left Éiden outside where he now sits in front of the window crying because the brother who was beating on him is now inside and unable to "play."

God, I love days like this.
janradder: (Default)
Yesterday, I played a couple of old Bill Cosby records for Arie and Éiden thinking they would enjoy hearing them, which they did -- immensely. Now, today, they've been parroting back their favorite lines and bits like a couple of proto-Python fans.


Nov. 24th, 2009 10:24 am
janradder: (Default)
After weeks and weeks of trying, Éiden has finally learned how to snap his fingers! He is quite pleased with himself.
janradder: (psychos in love)
Watching my seven year old carve his first pumpkin all by himself while my five year old does a spastic punk dance to the Misfits song that's playing in the other room.
janradder: (crying)
My kids can start a fight over which cartoon to watch . . . even when they both want to watch the same damn cartoon.
janradder: (Default)
Yesterday the glass shade in the boys room smashed into about ten thousand tiny pieces. Today I went to Home Depot and bought two more --- one for the boys room and one for the hallway (which mysteriously fell and shattered about a year ago). As I carried them into the house (along with an armful of new venetian blinds), the bags holding the shades swung and then collided with one another, shattering one of the shades. So now I can make another trip to Home Depot.

That's just one aspect of the glorious red-letter day I'm having. Add to that a pair of bickering children and a bunch of housework that I still haven't been able to get to and you've got a big pile of win. Yay.
janradder: (Default)
"Let's get in the cah," Éiden said when I picked him up from school.

"The car?" I aksed.

"No," he answered. "The cah."

When I told him that people from Boston talk like that and gave him some examples he was utterly delighted and has been since pronouncing everything he can like he's a Bostonian.
janradder: (Default)
Me: Okay, put that in your hamper and then you have to start cleaning your room.

Arie: What do you mean by start?

It's been like this all morning.
janradder: (embarrassed)
Going out for your first bike ride of the year in 92+ degree heat while towing about a hundred pounds of kids behind you.

It didn't help that my brain decided it should play Fleetwood Mac's "Don't Stop" for the entire duration of the ride.

Or that every time I slowed or stopped pedaling, two tiny voices would shout, in chorus, "Faster!" or "Start pedaling!"
janradder: (Default)
Today marks the second official day of summer vacation (excluding weekends) for Arie and Éiden. So far, for me at least, it's been hellish.

Arie has been off in his own world, vaguely wandering about doing his own thing and telling me, "Okay, just a second!" every time I ask him to do something, which, in Arie-speak, means, "I'll do it in twenty minutes when I'm done with whatever I'm futzing around with, that is if I actually remember."

Éiden, on the other hand, has been doing his best to annoy the fuck out of everyone in the house. When he hasn't been wandering around making every conceivable noise he can with his mouth (popping, smacking, squirting, buzzing -- seriously, he's worse than the dog), he's been literally poking his brother with his finger. Or licking his arm. Or trying to shove dog hair in his mouth. Or spitting on his head. Or knocking over whatever Arie has been playing with.

Every twenty seconds I've heard the cry, "Daaaaaddddyyyy! Édien is . . . (fill in the blank)," or I've been repeating myself until I'm ready to explode.

So this afternoon, on the way to swimming lessons, I told the boys that if we kept this up -- the boys doing their best to aggravate each other and me, and me doing my best to spend as much time yelling at them as possible, this was going to be one miserable summer. Instead, I said to them, let's try to be nicer to each other. And after swimming, I put that to practice, joking around as we raced from the Y to the car through the rain that it was raining babies and dogs, trying to get bean burritos out of the ATM, and acting general dumb and silly, and at least for this evening, it worked. We'll see about tomorrow, but I am right about things needing to change, because already, this has been about as close to hellish as I can take.
janradder: (Default)
Tonight, over pizza, Arie asked about flirting, so [livejournal.com profile] haddayr demonstrated how women flirt.

"But how do men flirt?" he asked.

"Hmm," said Haddayr. "That's a good question. How do men flirt?"

"They climb up in trees," Éiden shouted. "And poop!"
janradder: (Default)
Arie and Éiden are engaged in an epic light saber battle in the living room.

Arie: I killed you!

Éiden: No! Say, "Ha-ha-ha!" like a bad guy first.

Arie: Ha-ha-ha! I killed you! Ha-ha-ha!

Éiden: Okay -- now it's my turn to kill you . . . Ahh -- I killed you!

Arie: Urgghhhhhh . . .

Éiden: Now let me help you die!
janradder: (Default)
Today Arie was given the choice between staying at his brother's preschool (which is always his choice when he doesn't have school but Éiden does) or spending the morning with me. I was prepared for the inevitable, "I'll stay with my brother," but instead he said he wanted to go with me! So the two of us went to the Minnesota Historical Society (his choice) and spent our time looking at old vehicles and trying to assemble artillery shells (as part of an exhibit called "Minnesota's Greatest Generation"), and had a great time together.
janradder: (sigh)
This year, Arie had one of the most amazing teachers I've ever met. As most people who read my blog probably know, Arie can be a very difficult and challenging child. But he's also bright, funny, very good-hearted and kind, and incredibly inquisitive. His teacher this year, seemed to see only the good stuff in him. "If I had a classroom of kids just like Arie, I'd be thrilled," she said on more than one occasion. There are so many things she did to not only challenge Arie academically, but also to make him feel special, and like he was just as much a part of the class as everyone else.

Years from now, I hope Arie looks back on his first grade teacher and realizes that she was one of the best, because [livejournal.com profile] haddayr and I certainly realize it now. I'm so glad that our son was in her class, and I don't think I've ever felt so sad about the end of a school year before.

At DInner

Jun. 6th, 2009 06:35 pm
janradder: (Default)
Haddayr was explaining to Arie how, years ago, it was perfectly legal for companies to fire women who got pregnant or who took too much leave after having their children.

Arie's eyes grew wide.

"That's like being a regular shithead," he said.


Jun. 4th, 2009 07:51 pm
janradder: (charlie brown)
What is it about my kids that getting them to wipe their own butts is so freakin' difficult?
janradder: (Default)
"My brother can blow up the house, but he may not blow it up.


janradder: (Default)

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