Mikie Mike and the Funky Bunch

Move over, Mark Wahlberg, there's a new kid in town. Mikie is ready for his new career. . . Tommy Hilfiger underwear model. Or (more accurately) Huggies Pull-up model.

We took Mikie to get his haircut at Snip-its. Imagine a kid-friendly equivalent of the Hair Cuttery (although geared more towards girls than a Cartoon Cuts). When you are done getting your hair cut, the stylist gives you a ticket to put in a machine, and it spits out a prize. This visit's prize was a tatoo! Of course, we couldn't leave the shopping center without putting it on. When we got home, Mikie was quick to remove his shirt and show off for the camera. He also has been running around daycare, pulling up his sleeve, waving his upper arm in everyone's face.

What is it? That colorful blob is actually a rainbow that says "Get Crazy" on it. Like Mikie needed a tatoo to tell him that.

Alas, Mark Wahlberg has nothing to fear. His career is safe. Mikie has informed us he wants to play hockey. On our ride home from visiting Gram and Diane last night, Mikie proclaimed he didn't want to play with his friends, he wanted to play hockey on the ice with "the other boys". When I asked who "the other boys were" (naively thinking he meant the neighbors), he said "The hockey players." On further inquiry, he announced he wants to play with "The Boston Bruins". We informed him he needs to accomplish a few other things first: get bigger and stronger, go to school, learn to skate. . .

I don't know any other 2 year old who loves hockey as much as Mikie. I wonder if Mike is showing him "Miracle" 24/7 when I am not around.

Go Bruins!

Love,

The Trahans

Missing Brain Cells

Of all the forgetful things I have done this week, this one takes the cake. I dropped Mikie off at daycare this morning. I always lock my car, even though I am only inside for a few minutes, because my purse, wallet, iPod, cell phone, Palm Pilot, projects for work, are all in that car. If I lost them, I wouldn't be able to function correctly.

Evidently, even not having lost them, I am having trouble functioning.

After saying goodbye to Mikie, I walk back out to my car. I press the unlock button on the key, and open the door. I get in, close the door, and go to put the key in the ignition. The first thing I notice is that someone moved my seat back. I know I didn't drive to the daycare with it that far back, so who moved it. The second thing I notice is a red snow scraper on the passenger's seat. Well, that is odd also, since mine is black. As I look around, I realize this is not my stuff. I am willing my brain to understand what is going on. Slowly, I realize THIS IS NOT MY CAR.

Still confused, I sit there trying to comprehend how my keys unlocked someone else's car. Then, it dawns on my I should get out of the car before someone sees me and calls the cops. I make my escape and quickly get in MY car, the blue Honda Civic parked one space over. Now that I have escaped without anyone noticing my mistake, I have more time to process what just happened. Evidently, I didn't notice with the sun shining in my eyes that the Honda Civic I was getting into was black, not blue (although, all the salt on both cars didn't help either. . . they both looked gray). And, I am assuming that my electronic key actually opened my car, and that, similar to many trusting people who live in rural areas, this person did not feel the need to lock her car while dropping her child off at daycare.

Thankfully, it is Friday. Because I need to start over, hopefully with more synapses firing than I had this week.

Happy Friday.

Love,
The Trahans

Let Them Eat Jelly!

Everyone we know thinks Mikie looks like Mike. And, I think he has a lot of my sister's personality traits. But, he did inherit one thing from me. . . a love of peanut butter. From age three through high school, I ate a peanut butter sandwich every day for lunch. On bread, apples, bananas, with or without jelly. I love peanut butter. Mikie is unfortunate in that his daycare is peanut free. So, to make up for the fact that he can't eat peanut butter at lunch, he demands it at other times (breakfast, dinner, bedtime). And, his favorite way to eat it is on a banana, just like his mom.

So, after a full morning of playing in the snow yesterday, Mikie and I came inside to refuel with a lunch of peanut butter on bananas. We sat down, side by side, armed with our bananas and a jar of Skippy between us. Mikie doesn't even like to bother cutting it. He holds it, peeled half-way, like he is going to eat it. I smear some peanut butter on the top, and he bites it off. We repeat this process until the banana is gone.

After he finished his banana, I started to peel my own. Boy was I niave to think I could enjoy my lunch in peace. The following conversation ensued:

Mikie: "I want more peanut butter on 'nana, Mom".

Lauren: "But, this is my banana. You just ate yours."

Mikie: "But, I want more 'nana."

Lauren: "Then what am I supposed to eat?"

Mikie: "You eat jelly on bread."

Well, with such a persuasive argument (and knowing that there were three more bananas), what more could I do than give him my banana. He left to play, returning five minutes later while I was in the midst of eating my new banana, and tried to demand a third. I took a new approach and told him he wasn't hungry, a statement he didn't challenge.

Later that night, Mike and I returned home, after hiring a babysitter to watch Mikie so we could go out to dinner. We found that Mikie didn't want the meatloaf I made, so she gave him peanut butter on banana. Actually, peanut butter on TWO bananas. So, he has officially broken his banana eating record of three bananas in one day!

Too bad we don't live in a more tropical climate. Having a banana tree would definitely save us some money, and trips to the grocery store.

Love,
The Trahans

Buried Again

We had ONE day last week without ANY snow on our lawn. On Saturday the 10th, the weather started warming up. By Wednesday night, it was so warm, Mike wanted to eat outside (for reference, so warm was in the 60s). The last of the snow on our lawn had finally melted. Even on Thursday night, it wasn't bitterly cold. I actually thought that Punxsutawney Phil might be right. . . maybe winter was over.

Then I woke up. Actually, I was already awake, dressed, and at work, watching snowflakes fall past my window around 9am on Friday. If we were in Maryland, I would have argued that the ground was too warm for it to accumulate. But, we were in Massachusetts, where I continue to see people walking out on the lakes to check their ice fishing traps when it is 70 degrees outside. So, when the meteorologists say you are going to get up to a foot of accumulation, they are typically right on.

Here are some great pictures outside Crabtree as the snow was falling:

There is a beautiful pond buried under all that snow. And, the rhododendrons had buds, prior to all the snowfall.This is the picturesque New England that I love. . . when you don't have to go anywhere or shovel anything.

Then came the drive home. It typically takes me about 35 minutes to drive the 27 miles home from work. On Friday, it took me over an hour and a half. I didn't have any issue with traction on the road, in spite of the fact that the snow was falling faster than the plows could clear it. My problem was I had to stop SIX times to clear ice off my windshield and windshield wipers.

When I arrived home, I got stuck at the bottom of the driveway. For the third time that day, Mike had to shovel our driveway. And, our neighbor, taking pity on Mike's determination not to buy a snow blower until the summer, helped clear the bottom third with her snow blower.

By Saturday morning, after the snow subsided, we had given up on shoveling. We paid someone to plow the driveway, then spent two hours just clearing the front walkway, and the small amount of snow that the plow left behind. Again, our neighbor came over with his snow blower to clear the mound of snow the town plow decided to dump in our driveway after we had just finished shoveling. Mike swears that our next house will have a shorter driveway. Since I hate moving, I think investing in a snow blower, or a truck with a plow, is the more appealing option.

Mikie, on the other hand, thoroughly enjoyed himself. Probably because he did a minimal amount of snow removal. Or, because his "snow removal" method tended to involve eating it. First, he tried sledding. In spite of how icy the snow was, there seemed to be too much friction, so he didn't get a lot of speed (he actually got stuck halfway down the hill). So, we tried building a snowman. The only problem was that the snow was icy, not wet and sticky. We couldn't even make a snowball.

Next, we decided to walk into the backyard and check out the swing set. This was easier said then done. Evidently, 36 pounds (38 with all of his snow gear) is not heavy enough to break through the snow. So, Nanook Trahan ran across the snow like a speed skater. Because the neighbors warned me not to lose him in the snow (I don't know how I could, the snow was a foot deep and he was dressed head to toe in royal blue) I was frantically trying to keep up with him. This was difficult since I kept sinking up to the middle of my calves in snow. To Mikie's dismay, when we reached the swing set, he discovered the sandbox was full of snow and the slide was full of snow and ice. So, all our efforts were for naught.

After our trek back to the front yard, Mikie suggested we play hockey. It is quite a sight to see a two year old running around with a full size hockey stick, screaming "I shoot the puck, Mom" and "Pass it to me, Mom". He's actually getting pretty good (further justification in Mike's mind to get him ice skates).

I finally coerced him inside with the promise that he could take a bath in the "bubble tub". His gloves are still saturated with water from all the snow he ate and puddles he splashed in, so I don't envision him going out to play again for a few days. Fortunately for him, if the February snow storm was any indication, it will take us a month for all this snow to completely disappear again. Which may mean an outdoor Easter egg hunt will be pretty challenging. Hopefully, they don't have as much snow in Pennsylvania or New Jersey.

Happy St. Patrick's Day!

Love, The Trahans

Mikie's First Hockey Game

Given his love of hockey, and our close proximity to Troy, NY, we decided to take Mikie out to RPI for a tour of the campus and his first live hockey game. We met up with Matt & Catherine Baumann (or Matt & Kitty as Mikie called them). We spent the morning waiting for the bookstore to open so we could buy new RPI apparel for the game. And, since we were in the Union, we had to stop for Ben & Jerry's ice cream. Ben & Jerry's on campus seemed to be a huge selling point for Mikie(as it was for me). Then again, any ice cream is a big hit with Mikie. . .

We went back to the hotel for a quick nap before dinner at the Outback (because Mike and Matt can't pass up an opportunity to eat steak). Then, off to the game.

Mikie had a blast. RPI played Cornell. Or attempted to play. I have to say that it wasn't the most riveting hockey gave I have ever been to. RPI lost 6 to 1. But, Mikie didn't seem to care. Here is Mikie, intently focused on the game:

Between the 1st and 2nd periods, Catherine took Mikie for a walk to see the zambonis. While they were watching them come off the ice, the staff made them sit down to make room for the Cornell team to come back on the ice. They were stuck sitting right in front of the Cornell pep band. Mikie couldn't decide what was more interesting, the zambonis or the drummer in the pep band. As they walked back to our seats, the Cornell coach gave him a "high five" through the glass.

Between the 2nd and 3rd periods, Mike and Mikie went on a walk in search of Puckman (our unofficial mascot). One of the refs was skating by and threw Mikie the official game puck. You can see him proudly displaying it in the picture below:

Armed with his hockey stick and a new puck, Mikie was ready to do some serious damage to our hotel room. We had to hide the puck to avoid breaking anything. After a few days of sleeping with the puck, we managed to wrestle it away from him. He lost interest when he realized it doesn't slide as well on the carpet as it does on the ice.

Mike, ever the hockey fanatic, is already searching for children's ice skates in Mikie's size and is telling him what colleges he can go to and play hockey at. I think potty training may be a bigger priority, but I don't want to burst his bubble.

Love,

The Trahans

WARNING: Proud parent

Okay, not all my blogs can be entertaining. This one is purely for family to enjoy Mikie's new accomplishments. Most of his accomplishments are not as fun as when he was little. For example, while everyone oohed and aahed when he said his first word, or took his first step, few people get excited when I gush that Mikie went "poopie in the potty". But, Mikie has recently astounded me with a few new feats. For example, Mikie can now count to three in Spanish. After all, Mike doesn't speak any foreign languages (unless you count Latin, which is not widely spoken on the street). And, while I still recall enough Spanish to read and say a few phrases, I am far from fluent, and don't speak it on a daily basis. Although he can count, he told me that it is French, not Spanish, so we may have some more to learn yet.

Mikie's second new accomplishment is his ability to count to ten in English. We were at Sears auto getting new tires one night, and in my attempt to distract Mikie from climbing on the display of tires, I told him to help me count them. I said "Mikie, what number comes first" to which he responded "One". Before I could say, "what's the next number", he said "Twoo. . . Threeee. . . Four. . . Five. . . Six. . . Seven. . . Eight. . . Nine. . . Ten". Amazed, I stupidly stood there going, "You can count to 10!?! Who taught you that?!?" I then had to drive everyone in Sears crazy (as if my overactive two year old wasn't annoying enough) by making him count everything in the store. 10 cans of oil. 10 air filters. 10 windshield wipers. 10 shovels. Eventually he got sick of teaching me to count and went back to shoveling the imaginary snow off the floor.

Even more impressive was his ability to ride his bike. Mikie has had a tricycle since last spring. While he likes to ride it, he hadn't figured out pedalling. So, all efforts to ride his bike have been Flintstone-style (feet pushing off the ground). One evening, Mikie and I got home from daycare and work. He saw Mike's bike helmet, and insisted on trying it on. We got inside with the helmet, and he screamed that he wanted his bike. Being that I just got home from work, and Mike was not home, I was willing to humor the kid to have a few minutes of peace. I brought the bike into the kitchen, put his helmet on him, and turned around to filter through the mail. Next thing I know, Mikie is riding past me.

Imagine how you felt when your child took his first steps. . . that was how I felt. I started screaming and clapping. I ran for the camera, then realized that I should get the video camera. So, I ran to get the video camera. Of course, the battery was dead. So, I was running for the A/C adapter so that I could plug it in to film Mikie's first bike ride. I was completely amazed, because he hadn't even sat on the bike in two months. And, he definitely wasn't using the pedals before.

So, in his internet debut (and my first time filming and editing video footage). . . we now present "Mikie Trahan Rides a Bike". Starring, Mikie Trahan (and mom cheering in the background). Click on the picture below to see the video:

I apologize for any motion sickness I caused everyone who viewed this footage. Now we know why I am a chemist and not a cinematographer.

Love,
The Trahans