Monday, April 23, 2007


Most of the time, the word SuperMom makes me think of a woman who looks fantastic, works full-time, always picks her kids up at daycare on time, always reads to them for more than 15 minutes at night and still has time to make cupcakes for preschool the next day. That's not me. In fact, that's completely laughable, as far as I'm concerned.

Perhaps I should be content with being my kids' hero from time to time instead. My kids didn't actually call me SuperMom today, but they thought I was cool and that counts for a lot these days. You know what else is laughable? I actually thought I was pretty cool too.

When the rocket from Smunch's prized "Stomp Rocket" (pictured at an earlier date) got stuck in a redwood tree at the park today , I waited for the breeze to knock it out. Didn't happen. Using my maternal SuperMom wiles, I remembered a miniature basketball in the back of the car. Leaving Mam to aid Smunch in further rocket launching (there are several rockets), I zipped back to the SuperMomMobile (aka: the minivan), got the ball and with one deft toss, knocked the rocket to the ground.

"Whoa! Thanks!" Smunch said. Yay. I'm cool.

Then, of course, Mam decided that the heroic ball needed to be used in a game of solitaire soccer. That was fine, but eventually Smunch got bored of rocketeering and decided to go after her. The park has a creek. You get the picture. I hear Mam screeching over by the creek. And I get there to find the basketball cheerfully bobbing along in the to an equally unperturbed duck.

Moms with common sense and an appreciation for using "natural consequences" as a tool for teaching good behavior, would have used this opportunity to show the kids how they lose toys when they can't play nice. But not SuperMom. SuperMom saves the day by nimbly skooching (Can one skooch nimbly? Forget it. I can't even spell skootch!) down the creek bank and tip toeing across a few rocks to the ball, rescuing it from the water and leaving the duck unruffled before gracefully reachieving the shore.

SuperMom finds a caterpillar and asks Mam, to her squealing delight, if she'd like to hold it. "Hi, little caterpillar!" she says. SuperMom points out a second caterpillar that has landed, as if by magic (or so Smunch said) on Smunch's shoulder. We leave the park in time to catch Curious George on TV... pile on those SuperMom points!

And, as if the newly appreciative children aren't enough, SuperMom immediately goes to work on...not dinner...but on cleaning up the breakfast dishes...oh, and, uh, the lunch dishes. And she sweeps the dried out mud clods off the floor. All evidence of the day's earlier transgressions neatly concealed, she starts dinner. And completes it as husband walks in the door.

This is where there should be applause and I take a big bow. But SuperMom, with her omniscient powers, strongly suspects that husband is onto her. His keen vision probably notices that the dishes from breakfast are still dripping on the towel by the sink. He may have glimpsed the bathroom floor, still streaked with the kind of mud that doesn't just brush off.

But he says nothing.

Thank goodness the superpowers were available when choosing SuperDad!

Friday, April 20, 2007

I Wanna Be Sedated

Smunch likes to listen to Andy Z, but he also likes to listen to "grown up" music in the car. I play a game with him to see if he knows who's singing. You've never met a 5-year-old with better ears for Gwen Stefani, Depeche Mode or John Mayer...not to mention The Black Eyed Peas and Kelly Clarkson. I've also taught him that if you listen to the lyrics, you can often figure out the name of the song.

Anyway, tonight the radio station was playing someone's request for The Ramones. When the song was over, the DJ went into his regular line about how that was the Ramones singing....

Then Smunch chimed in.

"I knew that was the name of the song! I knew it was called 'I Want a Piece of Data!'"

Uh, right Smunch. Pass the Valium, would you?

Stumper of the Day

Smunch to Mommy while coloring in the outline of a ladybug that Mommy just drew for him:

"Mom, what color are ladybugs' mouthez?"

Thursday, April 19, 2007

No Blocks. No Problem.

The blog is starting to lack the color from photographs. There's no real story to go with this one except to point out that the ingenuity of kids is boundless. We don't keep building blocks in the kitchen, but it was a rainy day and the kids apparently couldn't be bothered to go back to the playroom and dig our their blocks, so they made do...

Don't Get Guished!

The following takes place between 5pm and 6pm on the day of the Sidewinder's most recent T-ball practice:

((cell phone rings in the front of a red minivan))

Mommy driver: Hello? Uh huh. That's great, but we're coming from the other direction. O.K. We'll meet you there.
(hangs up)

Smunch: Who was that?

Mommy: That was Daddy.

Smunch: Where is he?

Mommy: He's walking down Rosita. We're going to go pick him up.

Mam: Daddy's walking to Chili's!

Mommy: It would take Daddy a very long time to walk to Chili's. We're going to pick him up on Rosita.

Mam: Oh. He gonna get guished!

Mommy (trying not to laugh): I don't think he's going to get squished.

Mam. He guished like a pancake!

Mommy: He's not in the middle of the road, Mam. He knows how to be careful and not get squished.

Turning the corner onto Rosita, Mommy's best efforts at instilling a wee bit of traffic safety in her children are completely thwarted at the site of Daddy...standing smack in the middle of the road!

Maybe that guy is going to get guished...

Thursday, April 12, 2007


Funny kid comment of the day: Smunch to Mam upon asking her to help him clean up:

"What word do you not understand in 'please'"?

Sunday, April 8, 2007

Off With His Ears!

I dunno. There's just something about Easter. In a lot of ways, it's not as exciting as Christmas, but it's got the same great food and it's springtime, so everything is flowery and beautiful. And the kids have to go outside, so the festivities don't get started until they're dressed and beautiful. But it has the same magical feel...a mysterious being has been to visit and left treats. Cool!

And this year, when I announced on Good Friday that we had some Easter cookies to decorate, Smunch looked at me, a smile spreading across his face, and out popped the one thing *every* mom wants to hear, but so rarely does... "You're the best, Mom!"

This morning was Easter. Smunch dressed himself. He felt compelled to do this because he'd wet his bed and he *hates* to wet his bed, so he always changes out of his PJs ASAP, hoping no one will notice. He usually trades them for dry PJs, but this morning, he traded his soggy PJs for real clothes. Wetting the bed is really unusual for him these days, but we had a babysitter last night and maybe he drank a lakes-worth of water before bed. I don't know.

So, the kids were thrilled to see the Easter Bunny left baskets brimming with candy and a trail of jellybeans all over the table. They pointed out all the eggs in the yard through the windows. Too bad their excitement quickly gave way to other emotions. Smunch got belligerent and greedy with the eggs. Mam got whiney and teary every time she couldn't find an egg. The Easter Bunny was annoyed.

Both kids have colds and they've been whiney and snotty for days. The Kleenex is piling up in the trash cans and the coughing and sneezing is ever-present. Still, the egg hunt was a success and everyone was stuffed with a breakfast of scrambled eggs, almond danish, cinnamon rolls, fruit salad, sausage and bacon...ugh, I feel sort of nauseous just typing all that stuff out!

Despite the grumpiness, there were some good photo opportunities, even of the grumpy kids! How classic is this?

Ahh...I think I need a sunny rock to lie on!

Wednesday, April 4, 2007

My Sarah

I've spent the last 5 years hanging out with Smunch, a little boy who can be very sweet or an absolute terror. He talks a lot, he likes to destroy things, he doesn't really have a lot of least he has no one friend who he really loves. He doesn't get invited for a lot of playdates, although he does go to a few and seems to enjoy himself. The rules of being social still elude him. It shouldn't be a great shock to me. His father's hardly a social butterfly, but...

Imagine my surprise when I went and had a *girl* next. Generally speaking, Mam isn't all that girly. She has no particular fondness for dresses, doesn't carry her dolls around (although I caught her kissing one last night before she put it in "the line" with her copious stuffed animals), she likes pink, but she'd just as soon have a pink dress as a pink bulldozer.

Then there's Sarah.

I can't quite remember when Mam first met Sarah. It was more than a year ago and Sarah's about 4 months older, so the two really didn't have much in common at the time. Fast forward. Sarah's older brother and Smunch are on the same Little League T-ball team, so now that T-ball's up and running, Mam and Sarah see quite a bit of each other. Yesterday, walking across the field to practice, Mam chirped up "Where's my Sarah?" Well, gosh, I dunno. Maybe she's not coming today.

But moments later, Mam's Sarah arrived with her brother and grandpa. Mam went running over to greet her and the two were inseperable for the entirety of practice. Running through the field, jumping off bleachers, sliding down slides, hugging, giggling, smiling... I'd been planning to leave and go make dinner, but the playdate with Sarah was too much fun. Girls are *so* darned funny. They're already running to the bathroom to pee together.

Clearly boys and girls are made different from the very start. I don't think I've *ever* seen boys behave the way little girls do...not with each other anyway. I've seen them be that kind of friendly to girls from time to time. These photos are the culmination of about 6 playdates together over the past year. You'd think they're already best friends. I'm sure Mam is already excited about seeing her Sarah at Smunch's very first T-ball game tonight. I wonder if I'm going to get to watch any of it or if I'm going to be running around after two little girls who are attached at the hip!