Shout Out

Like many, I have a blog roll on the side of my blog.  To be honest, I added it to make it easier for me to follow all of my friend's blogs.  And, while I know some of my friends and family check out the other blogs listed, I'm sure most don't pay much attention.  But, today I am listing a podcast that you should definitely follow. . .

I have to admit, as technically savvy as I like to think I am, I am not.  We joined Netflix 30 days before they raised their rates and separated the streaming service from mail-in.  I figured out what Pandora was about three months ago (although, arguably, I probably don't know how to use it effectively).  I am not on Twitter.  I don't regularly look for and download apps.  Hell, I have tagged 76 songs with "Shazam", many of which I intend to download, but still haven't.  I know of podcasts, only because I was looking for ways to upload audio to Blogger one day and "get an account for a podcast" came up as the general solution.  I quit shortly thereafter because reading about how to start a podcast seemed too much for my overworked, overtired brain.

That said, my friend, Matt Owens, and his brothers, John and Mark, started a podcast entitled EngineeringFatherhood.  And, when Matt updated his Facebook status to say "The three Owens brothers have started a podcast about fatherhood. The latest episode is about our adventures in potty training our kids. Check it out if you get a chance."

Well, he had me at "potty training".  If you've read my post a few months ago (see I Missed My Calling In Life) or heard me argue with Hannah that "big girls pee in the potty", you know that I am willing to try ANYTHING to reduce our reliance on Pull-Ups.  Armed with my iPhone 4, I easily downloaded episode 4.  And, low and behold, what I found was a very entertaining, hour-long radio show. 

Okay, I know, you can't call it a "radio show" because it's not on the radio.  But, I don't know how else to describe it. EngineeringFatherhood reminds me of Garrison Keillor crossed with Cheers.  It's three brothers talking about anything/everything over a beer.  It's scripted in that they have a topic (or three, thanks to their new "random topic" format), but the comments are unscripted, uncensored, and very entertaining.  Okay, maybe it's more like Cheers.  But John's soft spoken, laid back attitude and Matt's insistence on playing folksie music for the intro does remind me of listening to Garrison Keillor with my mom as a kid. 

All in all, I highly recommend the EngineeringFatherhood podcast.  If you are on iTunes, you can search and download it for free.  Or, you can listen by going to their website by clicking here. 

I hope for the sake of Matt, Mark, and John, my little-read blog increases the number of listeners above 10. 

Love, The Trahans

Parents Say the Darndest Things

Typically, my blog posts are littered with entertaining comments that my kids say.  Tonight's post is a little different. . .

Lately, Hannah has not been sleeping well.  She claims to be afraid of the dark.  But, I think it is safe to say that she is afraid of being alone.  You could put her to bed in her room with all the lights on and she will still wake up.  I know this to be true, because I changed the bulb in her night light to a 40 watt bulb, up from 15 watts.  And, when she does, she won't go back to sleep in her own bed.  Even if you succeed in getting her back to sleep in it, she will wake up again.  Bring her into a bedroom with other people?  Miraculously, she can sleep without any lights on.

In desperation, I let her sleep in Mikie's lower bunk.  Long term, I know this is not a solution.  Mikie is 7 and I'm sure he will soon be sick of having a roommate.  But, until we can make Hannah's room cool enough to overcome whatever phobia she has, it has been one big sleepover in Mikie's room.

While cohabiting makes the bedtime routine much more streamlined, Hannah has figured out a new way to prolong putting her head on the pillow.  The drink of water.  You could give her a drink of water one minute, and, the minute you put your hand on the doorknob to leave, she is insistent that she needs another drink.

This evening was no different.  However, after a long day at work, my patience was a lot thinner.  By the third request, Hannah received a Dixie Cup with the caveat, "I don't care if you die of thirst, this is the LAST cup of water you are getting tonight."  To which she responded with one of her famous, "O-kay", like I am the most unreasonable person on the planet earth.

I reached the door, I turned, told them both "Goodnight", "I love you" and "Get a good night's sleep" as per my usual routine.  As I walked back down the stairs, Mike laughed saying, "I don't care if you die of thirst?  I love you? Nice mother."  

Clearly, the nun's who threatened me with starving kids in third world countries had a big impact on me. . . 

Love, The Trahans 

Project Runway: Halloween Edition

Since Mikie was three, he has enjoyed Halloween "themes".  The most memorable was the Star Wars theme. . .

This year, Mikie had a very specific idea.  He wanted to be the flying pig from Seasonal Angry Birds, Valentine's Day.  And, Hannah could be the Red Angry Bird.  Since Hannah ALWAYS wants to play Angry Birds (because Mike and Mikie play Angry Birds and she wants to do whatever her buddy does), she thought this was a great idea.  Unfortunately, the Angry Birds themed costumes on the internet had a few problems:  (1) they looked lame and (2) they were sold out everywhere.  Which forced me to break out the Singer and sew some.

The statement "I didn't know you could sew" has come up frequently since I started costume construction.  Yes, I can sew.  You won't see me making my own clothes anytime soon, but I know how to thread a machine.  The bigger challenge was designing the costumes.  There weren't any "Angry Birds" patterns on the internet either, so I had to come up with something myself. 

Hannah's was inspired in combination by a picture I found on the internet from another mom who made Angry Bird costumes last year and a bubble dress I bought her for Christmas last year.  I cut a pattern for the lining by tracing a sun dress she had.  I then made a pattern with an identical top, but increased the length by 3 inches.  I added to the width as well since I was going to stuff it.  I added an extra half inch on all sides for seam allowances.  It was fairly straight forward once I had the patterns.  And, thanks to the numerous Angry Birds stuffed animals Mikie has, I scaled up the features using calculator, compass, protractor, etc. so that I could nail the features. 

Mikie's was far more complicated.  His was inspired by. . . a beach ball.  My intention was to make six petal shaped panels which, when sewn together, formed a ball.  The challenge was making a pattern for one of the petals.  But, I am an engineer who dual majored (for most of college) in mathematics.  Mikie and I measured the distance from his collar bone to a point on his upper thigh (2 ft) to determine the diameter of our pig.  From their, I calculated 1/6th of the circumference (which was easily calculated as pi*diameter) to determine the width of the petal at the widest point.  And, 1/2 the circumference for the length.  If I was artistic, I probably could have free-handed the shape from those four points.  Instead, I did a lot more complex math with a lot of interpolation between points.  Until I had my petal pattern.  Six sewn together gave me a nice sphere.  A column with arm holes through the center of my sphere for Mikie's body and some padding in between the column/lining and the exterior sphere and (ta da) I give you the Angry Pig.

Throughout, my supportive husband had to mock me with comments like, "You don't see them doing MATH on Project Runway."  Well, take a memo designers.  Maybe a little more math up front would prevent last minute adjustments. 

While the kids did not win the costume contest at our community center (Hannah lost to a store bought Minnie Mouse and Mikie lost to a store bought Pac-Man), they got a lot of compliments.  One mother asked me if she could pay me to make the same costumes for her kids next year. 

So, I can now rest assured that, if I ever need a career change, I can take up costume design.

Happy (belated) Halloween.

Love, The Trahans

Halloween 2011: When Hell Froze Over

There were a lot of appropriate titles for this post. . . White Halloween, Christmas in October, Trahan's Freezing by an Open Fire.  Yes, Halloween 2011:  the year it snowed.

Let's just say, when the weathermen are calling for 8-12 inches that could take down trees, the one thing you should never say is, "We've NEVER lost power for an extended period of time here."  It is like daring Mother Nature. 

Sure enough, on Saturday afternoon, my parents, Mike, the kids and I are snuggling in the family room, watching movies while waiting for the lasagna to finish cooking, occasionally watching the snow fall, and the power goes out. 

That first night, it was fun.  Like camping, but without the bugs.  Thankfully, the lasagna was 15 minutes from being done, so we kept the oven closed to let the heat finish cooking it.  We lit enough candles to forever imprint the smell of Crabtree & Evelyn on our house.  We toasted marshmallows over the candles, and read stories together before putting the kids to bed.  Hannah slept with Grandma Pookie (because she was scared of the dark and, her room is like an ice box when the heat IS on); Mikie moved his air mattress into our bedroom (long story why he was sleeping on an air mattress in his room. . . he said it made him cough less).  Not used to going to sleep at 9pm, Mike and I streamed episodes of "The Office" from Netflix on his phone. 

So ended Saturday.  When we woke up to a world of white, still without power, we were still optimistic.  After Mike shoveled snow from the top of the driveway, we headed out in search of coffee and donuts, since the kids (specifically Mikie) didn't like any of the breakfast options that could be made without electricity.  Then reality started to set in.  Driving down the main road out to the highway, we couldn't believe the number of trees that were down.  And, not young trees.  Mature trees.  And, when I say mature, I mean REALLY OLD TREES.  The adjacent town just celebrated it's third centennial recently.  There is a house that John Adams stayed at less than a mile from our home.  Really old trees were down left and right along the road, allowing one zig-zagging lane of traffic to progress.  Provided you didn't care about your paint job.  One poor tree was clearly holding on for dear life, it's root system rising out of the ground on the right side of the road while its branches curved across, touching on the left side, forming a tunnel.  The picture below was taken walking distance from our development:

Since life in our town was canceled, we spent the day in Rhode Island with the in-laws, who were spared the majority of the storm's wrath.  We checked in with National Grid frequently, only to hear "due to the severity of the outage in your area, we are still assessing the damage to determine a time to restore power." 

Sunday evening left us in need of a good laugh.  So, Mike put his brand new work laptop with fully charged battery to good use:  we had a "BYOB" (bring your own blanket) party in the family room to watch "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation". 

Halloween morning truly was a horror.  The temperature in the house dropped to 54 degrees.  Thanks to extra firewood we had from summer campfires, and a lot of paper we wanted to shred, we succeeded in lighting a fire in the fireplace without "kindling".  That kept the house at 54 degrees through lunch time, when we all decided to abandon house.  Trick-or-treating was canceled.  My parents had headed south, with my dad promising to return with a generator if we didn't have power still by the end of the week.  After packing all the clean clothes we could find, plus Rhino (our guinea pig), we headed to McDonald's.  Armed with my dad's AAA guide, I called every hotel in a 40 mile radius, with no luck.  Every hotel was either without power or without vacancies.  I was starting to appreciate what the Holy Family went through that first Christmas.  Mike, armed with the Raytheon travel agent, succeeded in landing us one night in a hotel in Burlington, Massachusetts. 

After driving 90 minutes with two kids and a pet, and smuggling Rhino into the hotel, things started to look up.  First, we were warm.  Second, the Burlington Mall is home to one of the only Chick-Fil-A's in Massachusetts.  So, we got to enjoy one of our favorite fast food chains for dinner, something we haven't eaten since my sister got married over a year ago.  Third, we took the kids to see "Puss in Boots", which was excellent.  Lastly, and most importantly, we got a text message from our neighbor that the power came back on. 

A few days later, power was restored to Hannah's daycare, completing the return to normalcy from a routine standpoint.  Over a week later, we still have snow in the yard.  Mike removed the oak tree limb from our shed, only to find a nice big hole in the roof for us to repair before the next big snowstorm.  And, we have one damaged ornamental pear tree, one severely damaged dogwood tree, and an unknown tree/shrub that hurricane Irene knocked over to still remove.  At this rate, I'm praying for more snow to cover our front yard and make it look "pretty" again. 

I do want to thank some people:  first, thanks to my parents for suffering through with us as long as they did. I don't think we could have kept the kids entertained as long as we did without you.  Second, thanks to Mike's family for letting us prey on their utilities and hospitality by feeding, bathing, and entertaining us for the day on Sunday.  Lastly, I would like to thank all of the line workers from North Carolina and Michigan who we saw working tirelessly alongside National Grid to restore our power as quickly as they did.  Knowing many people in Connecticut who are still without power, we were very lucky. 

But, all things considered, you will never hear me say "we NEVER ________" ever again. . .

Love, The Trahans

The Bucket List

June 15th, 2011.  The Boston Bruins beat the Vancouver Canucks in game 7 to win the Stanley Cup. . . bringing the Stanley Cup back to Boston after 39 years. . . bringing the Stanley Cup to New England for the first time in my husband's life.

I knew that Mike was a huge hockey fan since the moment I met him.  I grew up in Philadelphia and watched Philly sports teams, including the Flyers.  And, with the exception of the Phillies in 2008, Philly teams ALWAYS screw up.  So, I was not a huge fan of anything.  I joked that when I married Mike, I became a Boston fan by marriage.  When we decided to move to New England, I will never forget the day Mike called me from a business trip in Massachusetts:

Mike:  "Guess what I'm listening to."

Me:  "I have no idea. . ."

Mike:  "The Red Sox game.  And, guess what I watched last night."

Me:  "The Red Sox game?"

Mike:  "YES!  They cover EVERY GAME here.  We will never miss a game again!"

This is problematic at certain times of the year.  When the Celtics and Bruins are both playing, I have no chance of watching TV, because one game is on the picture-in-picture and we toggle back and forth during commercial breaks.

So, I shouldn't have been surprised when Mike announced he was going to see the Stanley Cup.  But, after a failed attempt to go to the celebratory parade (thank you MTA), I didn't think this was going to be likely.

And the moral of the story is, "Never underestimate the devotion of a Boston sports fan."  Mike downloaded an app for his iPhone "wherestheCup" so that he could track where the cup would be at all times.  There were a few times when he called me to tell me he would be home late because the cup was going to be in insert Boston suburb here and he was going to track it down.  Sounds simple, but this app didn't post "The Cup is at TGI Friday's on Main Street in Southbridge."  It would post "The Cup will be in Worcester."  It would be easier to find a needle in a haystack.  I suggested camping out by the International Terminal at Logan Airport waiting for the Cup to enter and exit the country with players might have greater odds of success.  But, what do I know. . .

Mike, kissing THE holy grail.

In the end, Mike succeeded.  He found an IT company who was holding an all day seminar (aka sales pitch) where the Cup would be on display for pictures with attendees.  So, with no need for IT software, Mike signed up for the experience of a lifetime. . .

He left after lunch, after the Cup was wheeled off in a golf cart, missing the second-half of the seminar.  I asked what the company did (IT being a very broad term in my opinion) and he couldn't even tell me.  He wasn't the only one.  The guy he met who sent us these pictures (Mike having forgotten to bring a camera other than the one on his phone) was a manager at Walgreens.

Mike with hockey's coveted trophies

I included a picture of the "American Express Guy", as Mike refers to him.  If you watch hockey, American Express (official sponsor of the NHL) has great commercials with the guy in white gloves responsible for the Stanley Cup at all times being swarmed by kids and adults alike.  Mike was amused to see the guy from the commercials in real life.  While we knew there really was a guy in white gloves, I guess he figured the one on the commercial was an actor.

Long story short, Mike can officially cross "Kiss the Stanley Cup" off his bucket list.  Which means the pressure is no longer on Mikie to (1) play hockey professionally and (2) win the Stanley Cup.  

Go Bruins!

Love, The Trahans

My Son the Charmer

Mikie has always been very affectionate and considerate. But, this evening, he made most men look bad. While I was wrestling Hannah into her carseat, he started singing:

"When I see your face
There's not a thing that I would change
'Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are
And when you smile
The whole world stops and stares for a while
Cause you're amazing
Just the way you are"

Yes, the lyrics to Bruno Mars' "Just the Way You Are".

And when I teased Mike that Mikie was making him look bad, Mikie told him to repeat after him and got Mike to sing to me. After which, he said "Good job, Dad. See, you can sing almost as good as me."

Considerate AND humble.

Love, The Trahans

Hello, Al Gore Calling

Since she was old enough to stand, Hannah has been wasting water. She likes to flush the toilet, even if she didn't make a deposit. And, if she does, she feels compelled to flush more than once. She will wash her hands repeatedly just so she can splash in the water. And, my least favorite, she will request a cup of water, take a sip, dump the rest, only to request more immediately after.

So began my running joke: every time Hannah does something to waste water, energy or generally waste natural resources, I joke that Al Gore called.

On Monday, Mikie was reading his summer reading to Mike and I. When he finished, I remembered that the principal had called earlier to invite us (and all incoming second graders) to an open house. After praising him for doing such a good job with his reading, I said, "I almost forgot, do you know who called earlier?" To which Mikie responded, without skipping a beat, "Al Gore?"

Even funnier since I don't think Mikie could pick Al Gore out of a line-up.

Love, The Trahans

I Missed My Calling in Life

Throughout my life, I frequently find myself complaining about all the things I should be doing that are making someone a small fortune. My big complaint tends to surround personal care products (obviously) because I DO make them for a living, just for someone else. And, then I get catalogs for places like The Skin Store, and see other niche brands making a fortune. I'm not saying they don't work. I'm just saying I know what the raw material cost is, and, even if you put straight peptide in a bottle, it isn't costing these brands the $150/oz they are selling it for. . .

My favorite example is Sarah Happ's Lip Scrub. Now found available for purchase in Sephora, Sarah Happ started as a 20 something post-college student living in California with dry lips. So, she whipped up her famous lip scrub and started selling it to spas in stock jars wrapped in upscale little truffle boxes. The original "secret formula" consists of a whopping three ingredients: Vaseline, sugar, and (originally) vanilla extract for flavor. But, some people (including many celebrities) are willing to pay $25 for less than an ounce of lip scrub that they could make a lifetime supply of for half the price. sigh.

As I beginning potty training child #2, my new complaint is "Potty Trainers". Yeah, "Potty Trainers" is the word used by most websites to describe anything that isn't a disposable diaper or thin cotton underpants. Typically, it has multiple layers of fabric to provide some absorption, but may or may not include a waterproof layer (either vinyl exterior or concealed between cute layers of cotton) to prevent leaks.

With Mikie, potty training was a necessity. We had him in Huggies Pull-Ups, but the kid was too big. The largest Pull-Up allowed no circulation, leading to frequent diaper rashes. And, because Mikie was prone to croup, he was frequently on antibiotics or steroids, which made him more susceptible to yeast infections. So, we got rid of the Pull-Ups in favor of underwear and a lot of changes of clothes. Since Mikie always seemed to attract dirt, I didn't notice that I was doing to many extra loads of laundry. Instead of changing him because he got food all over himself, we would change him because he peed through his clothes so, net, I was doing the same amount of laundry.

There were two reasons why potty training Mikie was easier than Hannah. Reason #1: he could hold his bladder all night from a very early age. He may also have gone to bed later than Hannah and woken up earlier (because he has boundless amounts of energy), but either way, Mikie woke up dry. And, when you wake up dry, you inevitably have a full bladder. So, if you force your kid to sit (or stand) in front of the toilet and wait long enough, eventually, pee will end up in the toilet. Hannah has not yet reached this stage. And, unlike her brother, Hannah is an absolute grouch in the morning. Even if she is dry when she gets up, she throws a fit if I sit her on a toilet.

Reason #2: Mikie is a boy. So, while both kids commute to the same daycare 45 - 60 minutes from our house, if Mikie realized along the way that he had to pee, we could pull over and do so. Granted, this is often challenging (in the winter when there is no shoulder to pull over on) or leads to embarrassment on behalf of mom (when we pee in parking lots because he can't make it into a store). But, at least he was making the connection "I have to pee" and actually doing so somewhere other than his carseat.

Hannah isn't built to pee anywhere she wants. And, for fear that she will empty her bladder during our commute, resulting in a wet, smelly car seat that "cooks" in my car during the 8 hours I am at work, I usually put her in the good old Huggie's Pull-Ups every morning.

The problem with wearing underwear at school and Pull-Ups in the car, at home, etc. is a lack of consistency. In this case, it means that Hannah isn't learning to use the potty. Sure, she uses the potty. But, only when she wants to use the potty. Specifically, when she is at school and all of her friends are using the potty, when we are out and Mike or I go to use the bathroom, or when we are at Friendly's. (I bet you didn't know how cool the bathroom at Friendly's is?) And, the "Cool Alert" Pull-Ups that I use (they undergo an endothermic reaction when you pee, helping the child associate a negative sensation with peeing in a diaper) are impossible to find in stores in large quantity. And, while it is cheaper to buy online, it isn't convenient when daycare informs you at 5pm that they ran out of Pull-Ups at noon and you have to wait 48 hours for your order to arrive.

Hence why I began researching "Potty Trainers". My biggest pet peeve is that no "Potty Trainer" is created equally. I can't just decide, Gerber is cheapest (3 pairs for $11), so I will buy Gerber. Because, Gerber is not absorbent at all, leading to a lot of pee on my carpet and hard wood floors (and, potentially, that wet, smelly carseat). Bambino Mio ($10/pair) and Blueberry ($16/pair) are cute but look like they function no better than Gerber. So, why spend the extra money? SuperUndies look like a great solution from the standpoint of leak protection. But, "you get what you pay for seems to be the company motto", since the SuperUndies are $20/pair. Yes, all brands are washable and reusable, and seemingly cheaper long term than Pull-Ups. But, if they get wet, they still need to be changed. So, at a minimum, I need 6 pairs, or I am going to be washing training pants every night to use again the next day. And, ultimately, she will outgrow them. So, I run the risk of shelling out $120, only to still be dealing with potty training in 3 months and needing a larger size. If I were having more children, I might balk less at the cost. But (and I apologize to anyone who lived under other delusions), there are ZERO plans for other Trahans.

Clearly I am not the only mom on the planet realizing the potential margin these niche brands are making on "Potty Trainers". There is another company, Ladder Hill Design, selling a pattern to make your own "Potty Trainers" ($9 for immediate download). The pattern appears to be very functional and allows for customization of pattern, waterproofing, etc. While I admit this seems like the most cost effective solution, it requires that I have free time (which I don't, hence the big gaps between blog posts).

So, hear I sit, after hours of research. . . planning a trip to Target for more "Learning Design" Pull-Ups as a way to forestall my decision making. . . resigned to the fact that I am going to get soaked (literally and figuratively) in this potty training process.

And, as a last comment, could they use another term other than "Potty Trainers"? It implies that, for $20 a pair, those SuperUndies are going to train my kid to use the potty. Inevitably, I still have to put in a lot of leg work. Unless each pair comes with a maid to wash the clothes and scrub the floors plus Mr. Rodgers to discuss how you "know when you have to go", I think "Potty Facilitators" or something else seems more appropriate.

Love, The Trahans

The Little Woman

By now, everyone who reads this blog knows who runs the show in the Trahan household. And, I am sorry to admit it isn't me. It's Hannah. Sure, I get my way because I am the adult. But, it's hard to feel like you "won" a battle with a 2 year old when, in doing so, she ends up screaming/crying/wreaking havoc on your house. It feels more like a lose-lose.

We came home this evening and Hannah announced she was going to "ride her bike". She does it like she's 14 and letting me know she's going to go play down the road with her friends. While we do live on a very quiet cul-de-sac, we also have a very steep driveway and some neighbors who like to circle the cul-de-sac at a fair speed just to enjoy the view. Plus, their is the less obvious fact that, she's only 2 (less obvious to Hannah, but painfully obvious to those of us who care for her). Rather than argue with her, I chose my new favorite response, "Go talk to your father."

Before you take pity on Mike, let me remind you that, Hannah is Mike's "sweetheart" and, in Hannah's eyes, dad is great. Granted, dad is great because he caves to Hannah's every desire more than mom does. Reason number two NOT to feel sorry for Mike: he is leaving town for the next three days making me a single working mom. And, if you are a single working mom or have portrayed one for a short period of time, you know that it is hands down the hardest job in the universe. It is these days that I typically take up my writing campaign to the Vatican to canonize my mother and mother-in-law.

So, while I start dinner, Mike goes outside to watch Hannah circle the cul-de-sac.

He returned with this video.

Maybe the continuous loop of "Olivia" movies that plays in my car has finally affected my sanity. But, there is something about this video that makes me laugh so hard I can't breathe. I think it is a combination of the sweet look of contentment on her face, coupled with how focused and serious she is, looking around as if to make sure she isn't going to hit a squirrel or get hit by another Little Tikes driver (which is unlikely, being that most other toddlers are heading to bed at 7pm).

I will have to remember this tomorrow night when she is screaming at me that she is going to "GO RIDE MY BIKE, OKAY?!?" Sigh. . . if only I had a clone to cook dinner while I have fun playing with the kids. . .

Love, The Trahans

On A Stick

This post is dedicated to my cousin, Krista, and her husband, Jeff, who share our love of food on a stick. . .

Mike and I love fondue. Actually, we love The Melting Pot. If you aren't familiar with the restaurant, it is a fondue restaurant. The food is fabulous. However, it is pricey. Definitely cheaper than Morton's, but more expensive than TGI Fridays. And, WAY more expensive than Friendly's, which, as most of you know, is a the pinnacle in our dining out repertoire these days.

Back in B.C. times (before children, not biblical times, although they may be associate with heaven in my mind), when $100 bought more than four days of after care or one week's gas, we frequented The Melting Pot regularly with our other couple friends without children, Steve and Lisa Klein.

Then came Mikie. Initially, we still went to The Melting Pot because he would sleep while we dined on fondue (the low lighting is perfect for sleeping infants). Then, he slept less and was a whole lot more curious, and all of our favorite restaurants seemed to be less than child friendly. Melting Pot's hot plates built into the table were a problem, although not as big a problem as the mini pitch forks they give you to skewer your food with. As a side note: Sakura's hibachi tables. . . also not kid friendly, unless you want to give your 18 month old nightmare's about fire.

So, we evolved into making fondue at home. Between the Kleins and the Trahans, we had two fondue pots, so we could make cheese and desert fondue without cleaning up in between. And really, you can make cheese and chocolate into a very filling meal. Add wine, and it is the best meal ever. Plus, dining at home (or someones home) meant Mikie could wreak havoc (or go to bed) without making me feel guilty about disrupting other peoples' meals.

Alas, we moved to Massachusetts, and the Kleins moved to Pennsylvania. But, Mike and I have continued to eat fondue at least once a month. And, when strawberries are in season (or aren't in season but look tempting at the grocery store), we eat chocolate fondue multiple times a week. Thankfully, the island has an outlet built into it, so we can very easily set up a pot of fondue without worrying about the kids stabbing each other with little pitch forks or burning themselves.

Until last month (which is really two months ago since I am behind on blogging). That was when Hannah "I will eat whatever you are eating" Trahan decided that fondue looks delicious. Other than the appeal that most food has for our daughter (namely, someone else is eating it), I think she really just wanted to dip food in the pot. With some supervision to make sure she didn't (a) stab herself, (b) burn herself on the pot or (c) leave chunks of food floating in my fondue, she managed to successfully skewer and dip some apples.The verdict: still out. Taking a page from Auntie Katie's book, she thoroughly enjoyed licking the cheese off whatever she dipped, but never actually ate the bread or apples themselves. Once she realized she was expected to eat the stuff that was enrobed in cheese, she lost interest. She spent the rest of the time dipping food and force feeding Mike and I.I'm sure she would enjoy the desert fondue a whole lot more. But, there are some things too sacred to share with my two year old.

Love, The Trahans

Excommunicated

I'm not proud to say it, but, I would be lying if I said we go to church every weekend. And, it isn't because we aren't religious; we tell our kids about God and Jesus and try to raise them to be good Christians. It's because we can't seem to survive a 60 minute mass without disrupting everyone else.

I can hear the doubt. And, I don't blame you. "She's just exaggerating. . . how bad can it be?"

It always starts out well enough. Let's take this weekend. We showed up at church early and were pleased to see a band complete with drums and electric guitar setting up. Huge for our little congregation in rural Massachusetts. Hannah was swaying to the music. Mikie was standing, maybe not reverently, but, still. We made it through the readings to the homily, at which point the deacon called all the kids up to the front. Mikie was reluctant, but, knowing that Hannah wanted to go, played the Big Brother and guided her up to the front. He even participated, volunteering that you needed to eat "Peanut Butter on Toast" in response to Deacon Frank's question, "What do we need to eat to be healthy?"

By the time my two cherubs returned to our pew, I admit I was thinking, "This isn't so bad. We should do this every week."

FAMOUS. LAST. WORDS.

We probably COULD go every week if we found a parish where mass lasted 30 minutes. Alas, I haven't found a Catholic Church that finishes a mass in less that 45 minutes. During that second 30 minutes, which are arguably the more SOLEMN 30 minutes of mass, all hell broke loose. Hannah started screaming, kicking and flailing in that way that makes me look like I am trying to abduct her. We walked out to the vestibule three times that I can consciously remember. The last time, we breezed back into our pew just in time to say the "Our Father". As Mikie pushed my hand away like I had cooties, demanding to know when we could leave, my lips were praying the "Our Father", but my head was praying, "Dear God, grant me patience to get through mass without killing my children."

And, when I thought it couldn't get worse, my lowest parenting moment to date. As the priest says, "Deliver us Lord from every evil. . . ", Hannah looks at me with a big grin, thumps her chest with her little fist and proudly shouts, "I EVIL." As if to say, "hey, he's talking about ME!"

Trying desperately to recover, I said, in a loud whisper, "No, Hannah, you're not evil. You can be a good girl." But, while she may be trouble, she wasn't dumb. And, by this point my body and mind were so depleted that I couldn't muster enough energy to sound convincing.

The rest of the mass was a blur. I managed to juggle Hannah up the aisle for communion, found a few minutes of relative peace to take a break from praying for sanity and pray for other's intentions, and, head bowed, corralled my brood out of church during the closing recessional as quickly as possible. As we left, one of the deacons unconvincingly commented that Hannah "wasn't so bad" and offered her a high five. Hannah's response: she left him hanging, with nothing more to remember her by then her signature scowl.

We sat in the parking lot for a few minutes, two kids sedated with "Tom & Jerry" cartoons and air conditioning blasting, trying to recover. Before I end, I feel it only appropriate to explain why Hannah referred to herself as "evil". While I admit to calling her "Trouble #2", I was not the one to come up with the moniker "evil". We owe our thanks to Disney and Mikie. He has become an avid fan of "Phineas and Ferb". Dr. Doofenshmirtz refers to everything as evil. So, Mikie will occasionally refer to Hannah as "evil Dr. Hannah" and "The Evil Midi" (I have no explanation as to why he calls her Midi). I do accept guilt for not breaking him of this habit.

Rest assured, eight years of Catholic school has worked well at instilling guilt. I am confident we will return to church again this year. I just need to find a better way of instilling fear and submissiveness in the hearts of my kids before we do.

Love, The (evil) Trahans

Happy Father's Day

Happy Father's Day to my husband, without whom there would be no Trouble or Super Nibbles. And, while I sometimes think back fondly to the time "before children" (every day I see the college students wandering lazily to class, every Saturday morning that someone wakes us up at 6am, okay, FREQUENTLY might be more apt) I know that life would be far less entertaining without them.
sigh Looking back at these photos, I do have to remind myself that, while it was nicer when they couldn't move or talk back, they didn't sleep and cried a lot.

Happy Father's Day.

Love, The Trahans

Gone With The Golf Ball

One of Mikie's favorite things to do at age 2 1/2 as play "mini goofballs" (also known to others as miniature golf). We continued to call it mini goofballs to denote the difference in playing style over miniature golf. Mini golf is somewhat polite, with people taking turns hitting their ball until the succeed in sinking the ball into the hole. In contrast, mini goofballs is very fast paced, with play similar to street hockey if you got rid of the goalie (and all other players) and shrunk the goal down to the size of an 8-oz party cup. As an added bonus, faster play means you get to enjoy the celebratory, post game ice cream much sooner.So, with the weather nice on Memorial Day, we decided to take Hannah to play her first round of miniature golf. She was pleased to have her own "hockey stick" (her words, not ours. . . I tried to tell her it was a golf club). But, try as I might, she didn't even attempt to hit the ball with the puck. In fact, when I tried to show her how to swing the club, she just got mad and, taking a page from Elin Nordegren, started swinging her club wildly in my direction.So, while the rest of us played, Hannah (aka, Scarlet Trahan) enjoyed people watching and running after our balls to retrieve them. Unfortunately, this was while we were trying to play, making it next to impossible to keep score. Not really a problem for Mikie (who finishes a hole in under 30 seconds), but a big problem for me, who finished the back nine by "teeing off" and letting Hannah chase them. It solved two problems: 1) keeping Hannah happy (relatively speaking) and entertained and 2) keeping Hannah from retrieving other people's golf balls from other parts of the course.The hat is a hoot, right? As a teaser, she has a matching lady bug bathing suit to match. If the weather warms up again, I promise to take pictures. In the meantime, Hannah is doing her best to emulate Scarlet O'Hara's headwear as well as her attitude.It is also important to note, although Hannah may look like me, Hannah was clearly switched at birth. Mikie, like his mother, loves ice cream. He would eat it multiple times a day, and always has room for ice cream, no matter how much (or little) he just ate. Hannah? I can't tell you how many ice creams this kid wastes. Luckily, most ice cream comes free with her dinner at Friendly's. And, even when we pay for ice cream for her (like after our golf outing), Mikie is MORE than happy to eat hers for her (after he inhales his own).

Love, The Trahans

Hockey is the Best Sport EVER!

Mike has joined Toastmasters, a group which helps its members build their public speaking skills by holding meetings where you give speeches. A few months back, he wrote a speech about why hockey is better than all other sports combined. Seeing as the Bruins have just tied up the Stanley Cup Finals, it seemed a fitting tribute to post his speech here:

Hockey Is Better Than Soccer, Basketball, and Football Combined – and I Can Prove It!

by Michael Trahan

Hockey is better than soccer, basketball, and football combined. This is an irrefutable fact and I can prove it! That’s not to say that the other 3 sports aren’t any good; it’s just that they pale in comparison to hockey.

To put this in context, let me start with the story of how I came to love hockey. Growing up I really enjoyed floor hockey in gym class. Once in-line skates became popular I started playing roller hockey after school with my friends. And then, when I was a freshman in high school a friend of mine brought me to see a Bruins-Whalers game in Hartford. Seeing that game in person, I realized just how awesome hockey is. Seeing the speed of the game, the bone-crushing hits, and the awesome goals in person had me hooked by the end of the first shift.

So now let’s get back to explaining why hockey is better than soccer, basketball, and football. Each of these three sports has good points, but hockey combines the best parts of each in a way that makes it better than the three sports combined.

Let’s first look at soccer. The best part of soccer is the suspense. Soccer is a low-scoring game that you have to watch from start to finish to make sure you don’t miss anything. Hockey is very much the same as soccer in this way. Hockey games are usually low scoring and if you turn your back for 5 seconds you could miss the deciding play of the whole game. Where soccer goes wrong is that the field is so large, the games are so long, and the substitution rules mean that the players don’t have the energy to go full speed for the entire 90 minute game. Unfortunately, that means that at times a soccer game really seems to crawl along at snail’s pace and can at times be boring.

Next, let’s look at basketball. The best part of basketball is the fast break. The point of the fast break is to go as fast as you can to try and catch the defense out of position. In hockey, every play is a fast break. Players crisscross their way up and down the ice using crisp precise passing to try and get a scoring chance. The difference being, that in basketball, teams usually score on the fast break. In fact, in basketball scoring is so frequent that the important plays are not really when you score but when you prevent the other team from scoring. Because of this you could easily skip the first 40 minutes of a basketball game and still catch all of the exciting plays.

And then there is football. The best part of football is the physical play. Watching the defense crush the other team’s quarterback has to be why instant replay was invented. Much the same way, watching Milan Lucic line up someone from the Canadians in the corner and crush them into the boards and skate away with the puck as the other player melts into a puddle on the ice is something that I could watch over and over again. The difference between these two is that after every 5 or 10 second play in football the teams get 40 seconds to figure out what to do next. Unfortunately, those 40 seconds of strategizing take away from the excitement of the last play.

Finally, there are other distinguishing characteristics. Both basketball and football have an inordinate number of timeouts that can drag the last 2 minutes of the game out to closer to a half hour. While this adds to the suspense of the end of the game, it also kills the flow of the game. On top of that, substitutions are made exclusively during the multitude of stoppages in play. Hockey, on the other hand, is designed to maintain the flow of the game. Each team gets one time out – one - that they rarely use and on the fly substitutions are a critical part of the game that are designed into the flow of the game. Add to this the fact that the game is played on ice and that the players carry sticks that the TSA would be unwilling to allow you to carry onto your next flight and you have a recipe for success.

I don’t think I need to say anything more. Hockey is clearly better than soccer, basketball, and football. Hockey is better because it combines the best parts of these 3 sports: the suspense of soccer, the fast break speed of basketball, and the physical play of football, in a way that engages and excites the crowd. As soon as I started watching hockey it was clear to me why hockey is so awesome. Hopefully you now understand too but if you don’t, I suggest you go to a game.

Go B's!

Love, The Trahans

How Can You Be Mad At This Face?

Hard to believe my youngest child could get any cuter. And yet, her little red curls are now long enough to put up in pigtails, or "pony hairs" as Hannah refers to them. In her latest antics, Hannah, who is two going on sixteen, is doing her best to make me feel like Joan Crawford in "Mommie Dearest". This weekend, while Mike was outside working in the yard, I attempted to clean the house. While Mikie was content to entertain himself (aka play his Nintendo DS) and avoid being recruited into service, Hannah insisted on following me around like a puppy dog. No, on second thought, puppy dog is not the write phrase. . . whirling tornado of destruction is a more apt descriptor.

Our routine went something like this: I would start cleaning something. . . Hannah would start to make a mess. . . I would ask her to stop doing whatever she was doing. . . she would ignore me. . . I would ask her to stop AGAIN. . . no response. I would finally raise my voice and threaten time out if she didn't stop, at which point she would look up innocently and say, "OKAY, Mommy. No yell at Hannah!" With this tone of pure exasperation like, "Jeez, Mom, you don't need to overreact."

We repeated this process at least a dozen times before lunch. At one point, I was sooo frustrated with the implication that I was overreacting that I told her, "STOP SAYING THAT! I wouldn't need to yell if you would listen to me the first time."

At this point in my story, I know everyone is thinking, "How bad can she be? Look at her, she's so cute!" Look at all the seemingly cute things that can wreak havoc: Jerry Mouse from "Tom & Jerry". Small, innocent looking. And then, out comes the stick of dynamite, or the door slammed in Tom's face. I'm not saying Tom was innocent by any means, but Jerry could definitely hold his own. . .

Let's look at Hannah's headline's in the last few days:

Hannah received a peep on a stick at her cousin's birthday party this weekend. On the drive home, she and Mikie sat in the backseat, eating their peeps, watching cartoons. When we arrived home 45 minutes later, I open her door and realize that Hannah bit the ears off her peep and proceeded to smear moist marshmallow goo all over the door of my car.

I turned my back on her to clean up food she spit on the floor, only to find that she poured milk all over herself and her chair.

I think she is playing nicely in one room, only to find that she has removed her diaper and is running around naked. I turn to grab a diaper, only to find that she has peed a thimble size of pee in the toilet, has used four Huggies wipes to clean herself, and has now clogged the toilet because she insisted on flushing the wipes, not realizing that the box clearly states "do not flush".

On the upside, she can't write yet, so I can at least document my side of the story before she attempts to publish a tell all book about me.

Love, The Trahans

Skate Down Memory Lane

It's May (for 60 more minutes as I start writing this post). Everything is winding down: school, swim lessons, and hockey. All of which has made me nostalgic. I put Mikie to bed at night, and he tells me he will read me an "Elephant & Piggie" story by himself. Granted, school is still far from his favorite pastime, but he has come a long way in the last nine months.

Naturally, while compiling the video of Mikie's last hockey practice, I couldn't help but think back about the first time Mike and Mikie played street hockey in our driveway, the first time Mikie put on skates (age 2 1/2), his first skating lessons where we had to bribe him to stand up and NOT eat ice shavings off the ice, his first hockey clinic. . .So, as a juxtaposition, I found the video of Mikie's first hockey clinic from 2009 (right after Hannah was born). Keep in mind, I increased the speed to make it more palatable to watch.

Next up in the cue: the video of Mikie's first hockey class from 2010. I remember thinking the coaches were insane, expecting the kids to dive across the ice, and jump back up. Again, the footage was accelerated.

Lastly, April 2011. The last practice of this season. Real time (NOT accelerated). He still has a way to go before he can play for the Bruins (on a good day), but he can skate circles around me. Especially when skating backwards, because I can't skate backwards.If I get this nostalgic at the end of each hockey season, I better invest in P&G stock now for all the Puffs I'll need for high school graduation.

Love, The Trahans

Fiery Temper Follow-Up

I wrote the last post back in the middle of April, but it took me one month to find time to edit the one (yes, one) picture in the blog.

In the interim, Mike has witnessed the wrath of Hannah that previously only Mikie could understand. Not that Hannah never got upset in front of Mike, he just never witnessed the combination of foot stomping, scowling, yell at the top of her lungs side of Hannah that had become routine behaviour for Mikie and I.

I will admit, the video is somewhat coerced. In reality, Hannah wanted to "snuggle your bed" (translation: watch movies with dad on the TV in the master bedroom). Mike agreed, only if they could watch the Celtics game. Hannah let Mike know in no uncertain terms that the Celtics game was not part of her agenda. He was surprised to the point of laughter, while I ran off for the camcorder thinking, "AH HAH! He FINALLY sees it! I'm NOT CRAZY!" Of course, the minute Hannah saw me with a camera, she dialed down the attitude (not wanting others to see her true colors). So, Mike and I may have been taunting her in an effort to capture her antics for all of posterity.

Further evidence of Hannah's abuse to those she loves. . . back-up daycare. I went out of town last week for a three day long business trip, during which time, Hannah attended "back-up daycare". Raytheon subsidizes a back-up daycare program for it's employees through a local chain, Bright Horizons. For a very reasonable rate, you can sign your child up for the day (or three in our case) when your primary childcare is not available. In our case, primary childcare is still available, it's transportation (aka mom the resident chauffeur) that is unavailable.

Either way, we received a lovely, laminated book with color photos documenting Hannah's time at "back-up daycare". In it, the teacher wrote:

"Hannah had no problem coming to play with us this week, it is like she has been here all along. She is such an outgoing, adorable little girl! I'm glad we had the chance to meet her!"

Paints a totally different picture than the bossy, grouchy kid seen at daycare on a regular basis! The bossy kid who, when I picked her up from daycare about a week before I left town, had bitten not one but TWO other other kids that day because they took the toy she wanted. And, what did my little firecracker do while I was signing the two incident reports? She pushed a kid off the stairs. I'm sure that kid wasn't "glad" to have met her. . .

And here I thought having a girl would be easier. . .

Love, The Trahans

Fiery Temper

When I was a senior in high school, my AP English teacher was talking about common stereotypes. I think we were about to discuss Jonathan Swift's satirical essay "A Modest Proposal" and how he played off the stereotype that all Irish propagate like bunnies. But, he specifically asked me to "give an example of a stereotype about red heads." I couldn't think of one. My friend was quick to answer "fiery temper", to which I (without thinking) snapped, "that's not true!", thereby proving the point. While I maintain that I was not this stubborn and willful as a child (ask my parents), Hannah epitomizes this stereotype.

Example 1:

Hannah and I were driving home from daycare/work one evening. Hannah wanted a piece of gum. I told her I didn't have any gum. She continued to ask for a piece of gum. I continued to explain that, I didn't have any, but she could have a piece when we got home. I'm still not sure if a) she didn't understand how there could be gum at home but not in the car or if b) she just didn't like that she wasn't getting her way. Either way, she began screaming, "I WANT A PIECE OF GUM-MAH!", continuously, over and over. While this was going on, my sister called. I answered (I always keep my hands-free device in while driving in case I get a call). Our conversation went something like this: Katie: "Is that the TV in the background?" Me: "No, it's just Hannah." Katie: "Really? What is she so upset about?" Me: "She wants a piece of gum, but I don't have any in the car." Katie: "How can you focus on driving and talking when she is screaming like that?" Me: "She does it so frequently, I guess I just tune her out."

Example 2:

Conversation had with Hannah's teacher after picking her up at daycare one evening. . .

Me: "How was Hannah today?"

Teacher: "She was Hannah."

Me: laughing "I understand."

Teacher: "Yeah, most of the kids are generally happy, with the occasional 'bad day'. Then there's Hannah, who seems to have the 'bad day', with occasional bouts of happiness."

Me: "No offense, but I'm glad you see it to. I was beginning to think this was an act she only put on for me."

Example 3:

This is my favorite, and I only wish I could capture it on video. . . With the exception of putting on her jacket and shoes (which she knows means we are going 'bye-bye'), Hannah does not like to do what I ask. Ever. Even if it is something she ultimately wants to do, she will start by saying "no". But, she doesn't just say "no". She says, "mmmmm. . . NO!" Like, the "mmmmm" beforehand is supposed to soften the blow, because clearly she thought about it before refusing. In actuality, I think she KNOWS she is going to say "no", but she is playing mind games. To look at her, it's like she is thinking, "I'll pretend to think it over, but really, I have no intention of doing what you want." And then there is the glare that goes along with it. . . In 33 years, I don't think I can stare someone down as effectively as Hannah. Little old ladies have come up to her in a store to comment on "What pretty hair you have." Inevitably, they get the glare, at which point they apologize to me, thinking they scared her. To which I respond, "Oh, she's just not a insert time of day here person" or "She is overdue for a nap."

I joke that, if this is what she is like at age 2, I can't imagine her as a teenager. But, with two headstrong redheads under one roof, I don't know that we will both be alive 11 years from now.

Love, The Trahans

What's Wrong With This Picture?

For those blog readers who get the Trahan Family Calendar at Christmas, you know that April has a picture of Hannah and Mikie with the Easter Bunny. Seeing it at work and realizing Easter is a week away, I felt inspired to drag the kids to the mall to see the Easter Bunny.

For once, everything was going according to plan. Mikie (begrudgingly) agreed to wear "spiffy" clothes that did not include sweatpants or a shirt proclaiming his awesomeness. I was able to make Mikie's hair lay flat. Both kids were excited to see the Easter Bunny. We got to the mall before it opened, making us the first people in line when the most famous bunny made his appearance. . .

Alas, it went downhill from there.

As you can see, the picture only contains one child. I know what you're thinking, and, no, I did not successfully give away my second born child (even if I did find someone naive enough, I'm sure they would bring her back in less than an hour). After 25 minutes spent waiting to see the Easter Bunny, Hannah refused to sit with him. Not on his lap. . .not next to him. . . not next to Mikie. . . not even in the Bunny garden. Since she was happy to wave hello from afar, I thought she might be happy to stand in front of them and just say hi. But, Hannah's definition of afar was outside of the little picket fence surrounding the Bunny garden.

So, the picture only contains Mikie. Fine, I never have enough pictures of Mikie making a goofy face. Oh wait, I do.

Right after I paid $30 plus tax for a photo session including just one of my offspring, I noticed another problem. Evidently, Mikie had to unbutton his shirt to get it on. And, in the process, buttoned the top button through the bottom button hole. Hence why the stripes aren't laying right near his collar.

Next year I won't try so hard.

Happy almost Easter!

Love, the Trahans

Coed Topless Back Massage

I couldn't resist the title. . .

For the past four years, Mike's approach to chiropractic care is to have Mikie walk on his back. This is very risky, for Mike not Mikie, since Mikie thinks it is funny to JUMP on Mike's back like it is a trampoline and hear Mike groan in pain. Honestly, it is amazing he can still walk.

For best traction, Mike takes off his shirt and lays on the floor. On this particular occassion, Dr. Mikie felt inspired to take off his shirt (his shirt being so cumbersome when trying to visualize on which vertebra to bounce). So why did Hannah take off her shirt? Because Mikie did. As you can see, she was incredibly pleased with herself. Who wouldn't be? She got to do two things that would otherwise be prohibited: walk around partially naked AND attempt to inflict pain and injury on one of her parents. We aren't sure why Mikie insisted on pouting in the majority of the photos. Mike thinks he is a wanna be Abercrombie model. The pout says "I'm so good looking, it makes me sad!"

Love, The Trahans

Unappreciated

As a belated birthday present, my sister, Katie, and her husband, Marta (Uncle Tay for short), bought Hannah more dress up stuff. The girl can now open a boutique she's got so many shoes and purses. Well, so many in Mike's eyes, not Hannah's.

I decided to document Hannah opening her gift, since Auntie Katie and Uncle Tay live in the South and love video of Hannah. What we ended up getting was evidence that Hannah loves Uncle Tay more than Auntie Katie. We've all suspected it. Since birth, Hannah would love to sit with Marta, even over me, a point Marta loves to brag about. When they come to visit, they fight over who gets to hold her first. . .

As you will hear at the end of the first section of video, Hannah looks straight at the camera and says "Thank you, Tay." While I hoped opening the shoes would help her focus more on thanking Auntie Katie too, it was only after repeatedly thanking Marta that she gets around to Katie.

In Hannah's defense, Katie did buy a "first birthday" card, so maybe she was pissed that her Aunt can't even remember how old she is. I wouldn't put it past her; this child can hold a grudge like nobody's business. I have no idea where she gets it from. . .

Love, The Trahans

Hannah Turns 2

Alright, no one knows better than me that my daughter was born on February 19th, not March 6th. Yes, I am a little behind. And, we may not have had one big birthday celebration (or four birthday celebrations like we seem to have for Mikie). But, we have been celebrating Hannah's birthday for the last month.

We started the month by going to Sesame Street Live: Elmo's Green Thumb at the Lowell Memorial Auditorium. I have to say, it was a great location. I can never tell how big a place is from the seating charts on Ticketmaster, so I ordered seats on the floor. But, the Auditorium is pretty small. I think we would have had a great view anywhere we sat. It wasn't packed; there were empty seats and room for the kids to dance in the aisles.In spite of the fact that he was the oldest kid in the Auditorium, Mikie was a good sport and seemed to enjoy the plot line. Hannah had such a good time, she passed out 10 minutes before the show ended.In the "actual" birthday weekend, we traveled to Pennsylvania to visit Grandma Pookie and Grand Da. Granted, I had an ulterior motive of ditching the kids so Mike and I could have 24 hours or peace. We stayed at the Lowes Hotel in Philadelphia, had deep tissue massages, ate at Del Frisco's for dinner and ordered room service for breakfast. Oh, and the kids had fun too. My parents took them to the Strasbourg Railroad to ride the trains, followed by dinner at Friendly's. They also had fun sleeping on the pull out sofa together. . . The highlight of the month of February was the day I sent cupcakes into daycare. When I picked her up, Hannah would not stop talking about "Hannah's cakes". I think she had seen other kids celebrate their birthday and liked being the center of attention.

All leading up to today. Hannah's birthday party. My grandiose plans on a snowy day in January had a guest list with all our friends and family, an elaborate cake, games themed around Sesame Street (a beanbag toss of "trash" into Oscar's trashcan, pin the cookie on Cookie monster, an Elmo pinata). In the end, we settled on a handful of family, ziti, cake, and a pinata (mostly because I already bought it two months ago). I did still make the cake, which, I must say, is one of my favorites.In the end, Hannah had a good time. Who am I kidding, Hannah always has a good time when she is the center of attention.Happy Belated Birthday, Princess.

Love, The Trahans

A Bunch of Hams

Like a lot of parents, we have tried to get professional photos of our kids taken at least once a year. Over the last six years, I think we have tried most of the usual photo studios: Sears, JCPenny, Target, Kiddie Kandids. Each had their issues: Sears and JCPenny required appointments and a 6 week wait on prints. Kiddie Kandids took walk-ins and printed your photos immediately. Unfortunately, their time management stunk. They underestimated the amount of time required to take pictures, so, even if you had an appointment, you were frequently stuck waiting. . . sometimes up to an hour. And, let me tell you, it is not pleasant to wait an hour with kids in dress clothes. Bribery was rampant, just to attempt to keep the kids happy long enough to get semi decent photos.

Enter Living Social. I was not paying attention to any of the "Deal of the Day" type websites. Until the day my friend, Amanda, sent me an e-mail about a deal from Living Social. For $80, you got a 1-hour photo shoot at a location of your choice plus a CD with 50 hi-res photos. Even after I print some, I would still spend less money than Kiddie Kandids (since I seemed to spend around $140 to get the CD plus all the prints). The only restriction, the location had to be within 1 hours drive of Boston.

And that is how we met Kate Femino. I paid for the deal, and scheduled a photo session at our house. That way, I can keep our kids entertained with their toys, video games, movies, etc. The only challenge would be finding ways to get cute photos in our home. Luckily, Kate being a skilled photographer, she had lots of great ideas.

As the photos clearly prove, Mikie is quite a ham. Mikie was not only happy to insert himself into EVERY photo, he was very opinionated on what would make good shots. Mikie playing air hockey. . . Mikie with his Lego Death Star. . . Mikie jumping on the trampoline. . . Mikie channeling Richard Nixon's famous "V signs". Once again, I swear this child is the male embodiment of my sister; Katie was always hamming it up in front of the camera.To end the photo session, I bought cupcakes to stage a birthday celebration for Hannah. Thought process being, we never seem to have decent pictures of the four of us at birthday parties. Or, it might have been a decent picture if my mouth wasn't open singing. Unfortunately, these shots were filled with me almost strangling my first born, since he continued to climb across the counter and blow out the candles before Kate could get a shot of Hannah doing so. She did manage to get some cute close-ups of the princess with a mouthful of frosting.To see all of the photos, click here.

Love, The Trahans

Hannah's Unbirthday Party

Hannah is very excited about having a birthday. I know she doesn't comprehend the significance. She does, however, understand that it comes with candles and singing. It started after Christmas. She heard us sign "Happy Birthday, Baby Jesus" (a little tradition we have done since I was little) and blow out the candles, and it all went down hill. Now, anytime she sees a candle, she wants to sing and blow it out, regardless of whether it is a birthday candle or a household candle.

Then, one cold snowy day (they are all starting to run together), Hannah demanded "Happy to You!", I decided to grab some Hostess Mini Chocolate Chip Muffins, and put a birthday candle in it. In essence, I created a monster. Because now, everytime I try and serve breakfast, Hannah wants candles and singing. You can see video here.

Cute monster, but monster none the less. Maybe after her actual birthday comes and goes, we can break this habit.

Love, The Trahans

Holy Snow!

We have had a little bit of snow here in New England. And, by little, I mean so much snow that I could easily lose my kids in it.

Before it got too deep, we had some fun playing in it. Since we didn't get a lot of snow accumulation last year, this was really Hannah's first time playing in the snow. If you click on the picture below, you can watch video of the kids sledding. I will warn you: there are a few seconds of video of the snow which I meant to edit out, but missed. It takes so long to compile the HD video that I'm leaving it for now. Hopefully Hannah's giggles make up for any momentary dizziness you experience. That footage was taken after the "big storm" on December 26th. It had warmed up to 50 degrees the day we went sledding, so we only had a few inches of snow on the ground.

Then came January. We got a few inches on January 8th, slammed with a foot and a half of snow on January 12th, more on the 21st followed by another 18 inches on January 27th. In total, the weather service claims we have had five total feet of snow. It's been wet, so I think we still have about 3 1/2 feet of packed snow still on the ground (not counting the drifts from the snow blower). We HAD an ice rink in the back yard, but there is so much snow, you can't even see it.

You can see the pictures evolve below:

Mike shoveling snow off the ice rink on January 9th

Snow accumulating on the deck as of 7am on January 12th. . .

Noon on January 12th. . .

8pm on January 12th. . .

January 28th. . .

Our lethal icicle, before Mike knocked it down. . .

The disappearing ice rink. . .

Unfortunately for Hannah, we now have too much snow to effectively play in. We went sledding, but it is exhausting to trudge back up the hill through wasted deep snow carrying a wiggly toddler. And, the last few feet of snow were so powdery, it doesn't pack well for snowballs or snowmen. Hannah is very upset about the snowman. Everytime she sees more snow, she asks Mike for a snowman.

As I type, we are gearing up for another 10 to 20 inches. Because of our location, we are on the edge of the "change-over to wintery mix". So, we could get 10-14 inches plus a few inches of ice on top, or two feet of pure snow. At this point, we are hoping for snow, because what's two more feet when you have already seen five total. Plus, snow is easier to clear than ice (so I've heard. . . Mike is the official snow blower operator).

Hopefully we'll see everyone when we thaw out this summer!

Love, The Trahans