The Family that Freezes Together

Mikie has always loved hockey. In Maryland, he would run up and down the driveway, dragging Mike's full size hockey stick in pursuit of a puck while all the neighbor kids were playing catch, basketball, or lacrosse. He had his first pair of skates before he turned two. So, moving to Massachusetts was ideal in that here, he could surround himself with other people who love hockey as much as he does.After two plus years of skating lessons, Mikie was finally old enough to take hockey lessons. And, since they were practically GIVING us all the equipment for free (okay, not free, but $60 for everything), we jumped and signed him up.So began our new Saturday morning routine: wake up no later than eight, shower, feed kids, dress kids, pack up Mikie + hockey gear, Hannah + snacks, bottles, load everyone in the car, drive to practice. Once there, Hannah and I try and stake out a place under the heater (assuming it is on), while Mike helps Mikie get dressed. Then, we cheer him on as he goes through an hour of practice, before doing everything again in reverse.Mikie frequently gets frustrated if he doesn't feel he is good at something. Reading was a battle for a few weeks, thanks to a parent volunteer who told him he couldn't have a new book because he needed more practice. Writing is a constant struggle. But, in spite of the fact that every other kid can (and does) skate circles around Mikie, he keeps getting out on the ice every week. Today, he saw kids skating on a local pond and asked Mike if they could go skating outside.

So, here are a couple video clips of Trouble on Ice. The first is his first lesson. His coach, who is a coach at Becker College, clearly didn't get the memo that he was coaching kids. . . I apologize to anyone in Germany; there are copyright issues with Sony Music in Germany, so you will have to watch the movie without music.

The second clip is from this weekend. I apologize for the quality. One side effect of our mad dash to leave the house is forgetting things. This weekend, we forgot the video camera and Mike's coat. So, we downloaded a new ap and recorded video on the iPhone. As you can see, Mikie may not be great at skating (yet), but my five year old can shoot a puck like nobody's business. All the other kids shot wide of the goal. Mikie shot from further back and grazed the goal post. Even the coach came up to high five him at the end of the drill. Mike claims he can't play if he can't keep up with the puck. But, I argue that it only takes one perfectly aimed shot to win a game.

I don't know how long his enthusiasm will last. But, for now, it looks like we need to invest in a good thermos of hot chocolate and some more heated glove inserts.

Love, The Trahans

For Sale

Clearly, I have to watch what I say around my kids. Like all parents, I get tired and frustrated. This morning was no different. Having been woken up by Hannah at 2:30 in the morning because she was insert here (hungry, lonely, lost her pacifier, etc.), Mikie's 8am wake-up call wasn't the highlight of my morning.

For the next six hours, I don't know what we did. But we were TRYING to get ready to leave to run errands (returns, shopping, etc.) Somehow, between showers, baths, lunch, cleaning, etc. we didn't get out of the house until 2pm. As I struggled to get Hannah to stand still long enough that I could change her diaper (yes, I said stand. . . it takes an act of God to get her to lay still long enough to change her), I sighed and said to no one in general "What are we going to do with these kids."

Now, I say this frequently. . . in the car coming home from work. . . at bath time when everyone has flooded the bathroom with splashing. . . in the morning when no one will leave me alone long enough to finish making lunches. It's one of those rhetorical questions, almost a small prayer to God to give me the patience to outlast the two of them. But Mikie, always quick with a response, said "Love us and take us shopping for toys. Isn't that what you were going to say." To which I joked, "Actually, I was thinking 'sell you'. But I guess that works."

by approximately 3:30, we had arrived at Toys 'R Us. And, Mikie had successfully managed to convince us that he needed another Lego set (he did have gift cards from Christmas). While lingering in the Lego aisle, Nibbles got frustrated with the shopping cart, and, in an effort to stop her from climbing out, I took her out to walk around. Stubborn as she is, she refused to walk, instead preferring to sit in the aisle. And, having told her "no crawling on the floor" she did the only thing that I hadn't specifically instructed her NOT to do: she climbed onto a shelf.

Yes, for $60.99, you could have bought a one-of-a-kind Nibbles. Here she sits amidst the Legos like a little doll, looking out at me as if to say, "Well, you keep joking about selling us, I figured I'd test the market." Obviously, we need to work on her accounting skills. Because, of the two of them, she doesn't talk back (although she did bite my arm during bath time this morning). So, I'm sure she could ask $100 easily. . .

(I love how she peeks her head out, scoping out other shoppers to see if she can find someone to rescue her. . .)

Love, The Trahans

Bringing Sexy Back

If you don't know me well (and haven't already come to this conclusion from reading this blog), I like to sing. But, not in the normal way that someone might sing in the shower or in the car (although I DO sing in the car). No, I prefer to sing at random times throughout the day. And, typically inappropriate things. Example: I hum "Jingle Bells". What's odd about that? I hum "Jingle Bells" ALL YEAR ROUND. It's just such and upbeat song, it makes me smile.

I don't stop at humming Christmas carols. I like to sing songs to the kids: some I make up, and some favorite hits. During bath time, I have a tendency to sing RuPaul's "Cover Girl", Right Said Fred's "I'm Too Sexy", and Rod Stewart's "Do Ya Think I'm Sexy". Hannah thinks it is hysterically funny (could be because I'm not the best singer). Unfortunately, Mikie has overheard me singing a few too many times. Last week, while I was bathing Hannah, he stormed into the bathroom, butt naked, and began singing:

Mike and I spent the remainder of the evening trying to explain that, although we found it incredibly amusing, he couldn't sing that song or call anyone "sexy". Because, the low point in Mikie's kindergarten experience would be if I had to explain to school personnel why my son asked his teacher if she thinks he's sexy. . .

Love, The Trahans