The Birthday Parties (Takes 1 & 2)

Call us gluttons for punishment, but this year, Mikie is having FOUR birthday parties. It wasn't always this way. I remember fondly the days when we had only one party in Maryland. And then, we moved to Massachusetts. So, last year, we ended up having TWO parties: one with kids from school and Mike's mom's family, a second with friends, neighborhood kids, and Mike's dad's family. This year, to accomodate all parties (pardon the pun), we are up to FOUR. If we continue at this rate, we will be having EIGHT parties by the time baby #2 arrives. (In reality, it's more likely that I will either go bankrupt, insane, or get sick of cake and we will end up doing one big party for both kids in a random month like July). But, I digress. . .

Party #1 - The McLaughlins:

Grand Da, Grandma Pookie, Auntie Katie, and Katie's friend Marta came up to visit on Labor Day weekend, so we celebrated Mikie's birthday while everyone was in town. Mikie picked out a Carvel ice cream cake (saving Mom a lot of effort). We had a nice dinner of meatloaf, the world's best corn, and oven browned potatoes before diving in to cake and presents. Special thanks to my family for wrapping all the gifts while I took a nap, and special apologies to everyone for my crankiness (hormones and lack of sleep are not a good combination).Mikie got some great gifts. Grand Da bought him a massive set of Tinker Toys (one of Mikie's favorite building toys). Grandma Pookie bought him a new snow suit in Red Sox red & blue. Unfortunately, Mikie doesn't quite understand why he can't wear it to school; I keep trying to explain that it isn't snowing yet. But, at least we know he likes it. Auntie Katie and Marta bought him a Transformer, the Fishing Game and a Light Bright. As you can see, he was very excited about his Transformer (it's a dinosaur). We all agreed the Fishing Game is WAY to difficult. The manufacturer switched from magnetic poles and fish to poles with hooks that you actually have to get INTO the fishes mouth to catch him. Another case of a classic toy being remade poorly. We may be on E-bay looking for the magnetic version. But, the Light Bright provided ample fun (especially for Katie and I, who never had a Light Bright as kids).

Party #2 - Friends from School:

Last year many of Mikie's friends' parents didn't feel the need to drive 45 minutes each way to bring their child to a birthday party. Honestly, I can't entirely blame them. We are pretty selective about driving 45 minutes back to Woodstock to go to their kid's parties. So since our daycare has recently offered to rent their "big room" out for birthday parties, I decided to take advantage. With the remnants of Hurricane Hannah blowing, it worked out well, since the dozen kids in attendance were able to run around and destroy the daycare, and my house looks unscathed. Well, not completely unscathed, since I made a mess of the kitchen baking. . .

Yes, I made the cake. Mikie wanted a Monkey Party. So, I made the same monkey cake we had at Mikie's 2nd birthday. With a few exceptions. Mikie chose the cake mix (Betty Crocker Moist Delux Dark Chocolate Fudge versus the Marble Cake of two years ago), and I did all the rest. And, I must say it tasted pretty good. As per his usual, Mikie ate only the frosting, but the other kids and parents loved it. We only had about a fourth of it left to bring home.Mikie also chose the games we played: Duck Duck Goose, Musical Chairs, and Hot Potato. He assured me these were all fun games (as if I'd never played them). His exact words were "Musical Chairs is a fun game we play in Mr. Jay's room and I always lose!" Well, today Mikie won at musical chairs. And, he didn't even cheat by hovering near the chair. I guess all those laps he runs around the house have made him pretty speedy, because the kid he beat out was SIX! Duck Duck Goose was interesting as well. For whatever reason, all the kids chose to pick on me (I guess pregnant women look like they are slow runners). Screams of "Goose Me" rang through the room. Unfortunately, not all the kids understood that when Mikie says "Meatball" or "Balogne", it's the equivalent of being "goosed". But, I think they had fun anyway.

All in all, we had a great time, and we didn't have to clean up (thanks to the Northwood teachers who volunteered to be our "party planners"). Plus, we were so worn out that all three of us took naps when we got home. Now that's the sign of a great party!

We have a third party planned for the 14th in Providence, and the fourth and final party on the 20th. So, look forward to more pictures of chaos, cake and presents.

Love, The Trahans

Coffee Talk

Mikie and I were enjoying breakfast before leaving for work and school earlier this week. Instead of sitting at the table, we were dining at the bar stools at the kitchen island. As I was eating my cereal, I couldn't help but notice Mikie staring at me. Not sure if my head was screwed on right or my hair was sticking up, I asked "Can I help you with something?" To which Mikie responded matter-of-factly, "It's time for the baby to come out, Mom."

I wasn't sure whether he was just excited for the baby to come out, or if he thought I looked ready to have the baby. I'm hoping the former. I realized, however, that unlike my pregnancy with Mikie, when Mike took pictures of my stomach on a weekly basis, we haven't taken any pictures to document this baby (I guess it's true, the second child does get short changed). So, here is a picture for all to see of the littlest Trahan:Love, The Trahans

This Little Piggie

My Aunt, Lisa, has three boys. And she told me one day, while I was bemoaning bribing Mikie to do something, that it isn't "bribery" it's an "incentive". In my head, I do feel less guilty when I think of it that way.

After our trek to the Woodstock Fair, I took Mikie to Snip-Its for a much needed haircut. I hate Snip-Its. The "stylists" (and I use the term loosely) never seem to do a good job cutting his hair. And, part of the reason is that the position the computer screen that shows little animated video clips of hair cutting tools above eye level. Who gets there hair cut and it told to look at the ceiling? So, even the most skilled stylist would have trouble given the fact that every child in there inevitably looks up at the screen instead of down at their toes.

In an effort to get Mikie to follow directions, I told him that he could have an ice cream if he sat very still and followed directions. I regretted my promise after the fact, since my patience had worn thin at the hair cut place. Regardless, we went to Cold Stone and paid for some overpriced ice cream.

For whatever reason, Mikie decided to further test my patience by forgetting how to use the spoon that came with his ice cream. After about five futile attempts at getting him to use his spoon like a normal person, I did the next best thing. . . pulled out the camera to document my misery for all posterity. Click on the picture for a laugh:Well, at least we know in spite of his appearance, he IS related to me. Because only my child would stick his face into the ice cream bowl to get every last bit. Of course, I wait until I have eaten the majority of the ice cream first, and drink the melty part. But, he has 26 years to perfect his technique.

Love, The Trahans

The Woodstock Fair

This post could more aptly be titled "Why a Pregnant Woman Should Not Take Her Four Year Old Son to the Fair". But, I thought that was too long.

Every Labor Day weekend, the town of Woodstock, CT (where I work and Mikie goes to school) hosts the Woodstock Fair. It is an event. People in the town talk about it all year. If you aren't going to the fair, something must be wrong with you. And, the traffic is horrendous (for all of our friends in metropolitan areas, you would laugh at their concept of "traffic").

We had gone to the Fair last year, and Mikie had a great time. So, I decided to take a day off from work, and treat Mikie to a day at the Fair. My motivation was somewhat selfish, since they sell ride bracelets on Friday that let you ride all day for one price. Because tickets are almost $1 a piece, and even the kiddie rides take 3 tickets, I figured we only needed to hit 5-6 rides each to justify the $32 cost for two ride bracelets.

We arrived around 10:45 and waited in line for 15 minutes for the ticket window to open to get our bracelets. This is where the fun started. I will be the first to admit that one of my biggest symptoms of pregnancy is moodiness and a complete lack of patience. Not that I am the model of patience on a good day, but my tolerance for whining and or stupidity is at an all time low. The line, though long, moved pretty quickly. Each group quickly stepped up to the window, handed the cashier their cash and coupons, grabbed their bracelets and change and ran off to the rides. As we stood their, Mikie informed me that he had to use the potty. There was no way, after 20 minutes of waiting, that I was leaving this line to run to the bathrooms. Although I was annoyed that he didn't use the bathrooms 30 minutes ago when we stopped at Crabtree, I calmly asked him to hold it until we got our tickets. After all, there were three families in front of us.

There was now only one family separating Mikie and I from our bracelets. . . a family of 9 (mom, dad, grandma and 6 KIDS). Imagine my frustration when I realized that EACH CHILD WAS PAYING INDIVIDUALLY!!!! Yes, mom would announce "Sarah, it's your turn". And, Sarah would walk up, give the cashier her cash and coupon, and wait patiently for her change and bracelet. 7 TIMES I HAD TO WATCH THIS (mom, dad and grandma evidently not caring that they got their tickets together). I was half tempted to tell Mikie to go pee on the women's shoes, I was so exasperated.

We grabbed our tickets, and started running to the bathroom. Or rather, I was running. Mikie, who normally runs EVERYWHERE, seemed to have lost all energy while standing in line. He followed me (about 3 feet behind at all times) in a zombie like state. We successfully made it to the bathroom, and were now free to hit the rides, almost 40 minutes after we first arrived.

Unfortunately, instead of riding rides, Mikie preferred to gamble away his money in an effort to win cheap toys. And, every carnival staff member seemed to take prey on his enthusiasm. I couldn't walk five feet without someone yelling at me "Hey, Mom, pop a balloon and win a prize" or "Hey, Mom, $5 buys two chances for him to win." It got to the point that I wanted to yell, "Hey, I am NOT YOUR MOM. So stop calling me that!" Of course, there were a few that Mikie wanted to desperately to play, that I gave in and "donated" my cash to the fair for him to play. We are now the proud owners of a cheap plastic sword, identical to the one he won last year, and a Batman pillow large enough for a hampster, complete with suction cup so you can attach it to your window. Woo hoo!

We did enjoy a few rides. Unfortunately, not enough to justify the cost of the ride bracelets. Here are some pictures:

Mikie and Mom riding the Ferris Wheel

A view of the fair from the top of the Ferris Wheel

Mikie riding the train of pick-up trucks

He really enjoyed those trucks

Mikie and Mom riding the Dragon Roller Coaster

Shortly after the Dragon Roller Coaster, Mikie informed me he wanted to leave. Even though we didn't get our money's worth, I was pretty much fed up with dealing with Mikie at the fair. So, we cut our losses and headed for home.

Next time I decide to take a Friday off, I may rethink keeping Mikie home with me. At least until my patience returns.

Love, The Trahans

Mikie's Secret

For the last five weeks, Mikie has kept a big secret. For the first time, we have let him share it (see below):

Yes, it's official. We are expecting. And, in the last five weeks, Mikie has made a number of amusing comments in reference to this pregnancy, which I have been stockpiling, waiting to share them after we were clear of the first trimester.

THE BABYSITTER

On Sunday, July 20th, Mike and I hired a babysitter so we could go out to see "The Dark Knight". After enjoying a nice evening out, we were totally caught off guard when we returned home. The babysitter greeted us by saying "Mikie says there is a baby in your belly. Is there a baby in your belly?" My initial thought was, "What made him think that?" In actuality, there was a baby in my belly. However, we hadn't shared this fact with ANYONE, not even our parents. And, we planned on telling Mikie last of all for two reasons. First, if something went wrong we didn't want to disappoint him. And second, he is the WORST SECRET KEEPER EVER!!!!

We told the babysitter we weren't sure yet (which, since we hadn't been to a doctor yet wasn't a complete lie). In the morning, we woke Mikie up, who swore we told him there was a baby in my belly while he was sleeping.

BROTHER OR SISTER?

Mikie has been telling us since shortly after Christmas that he wants a brother. Unfortunately, we now have to explain to him that while we are having a baby, it could be a brother or a sister, and we don't know which. So, one evening, when Mike told Mikie to come give me a kiss goodnight, Mikie stuck his face right up against my stomach. At this point, he yelled, "Hey, baby. Are you a brother or a sister?"

Obviously, we are still working on patience. Like his mother, it is something he lacks.

JASON VARITEK

On August 9th, we drove down to Misquamicut to visit Grandma Kerrie and Grumpy and let them in on Mikie's secret. When Grandma Kerrie asked what he was going to name the baby if it was a brother, he answered "Jason Varitek". Completely unprompted by Mike.

GIRLS AND PINK

One night I asked Mikie what color we should paint the baby's room. He said if it's a brother, it should be green. I asked what color we should paint it if it's a sister.

Mikie: "If it's a girl, we should paint it pink because all girls like pink."

Mom: "I'm a girl and I don't like pink."

Mikie: "ALL girls like pink, Mom."

Evidently, I either don't qualify as a girl, or didn't get the memo that I am supposed to like pink.

DO I LOOK PREGNANT?

For whatever reason, I am a lot bigger at three months than I was with Mikie. Or four years gives you rose colored glasses when it comes to being pregnant. However, I thought I was doing a pretty good job of keeping the fact that I was pregnant a secret. Granted, wearing a lab coat every day does a lot to hide your waistline. But, no one had said anything to my face. However, I came home one evening wearing a new top I got at Ann Taylor (which was NOT a maternity top) and Mike started laughing. I asked what was so funny, to which he said, "It's just pretty obvious your pregnant when you wear that top." I will admit, it was cut somewhat similar to the maternity tops I have. But, I wasn't ready to hear that I looked pregnant so, I turned to Mikie for support. . .

Mom: "Mikie, does Mommy look pregnant?"

Mikie: "No, you just look fat."

Mike: "Mikie, obviously I haven't taught you anything. You should never say that to a girl."

While I can laugh about it now, it was not funny at the time. But, I guess I asked for it. What else could I expect from a four year old.

Last week, I asked him the question again. This time, he answered "No, you look beautiful." Unfortunately, when I asked him if he was lying he said "Yes."

I am sure that over the next 6 and 1/2 months, Mikie will come up with plenty of other amusing things to share with you. In the interim, here is a picture of our littlest addition:
Love, The Trahans

The Menu

Yesterday, Mike was trying to feed Mikie breakfast:

Mike: "Mikie, what do you want for breakfast?"

Mikie: "What is there?"

Mike: "We have pancakes, waffle toast, and cinnamon swirls."

Mikie: "What else is there?"

Mike: "We have pancakes, waffle toast, cinnamon swirls, pancakes, waffle toast, and cinnamon swirls."

Mikie: "Are there donuts on the menu?"

Like we're running a diner. At least he knows what he wants.

Love, The Trahans

Empty Threats

Mikie has taken to making threats lately when he doesn't get his way. Except, the threats are things that would hurt him more than us if he ever followed through on them. His favorites are "I'm not going to be your friend anymore" and "I'm going to find another neighborhood to live in". But, he is starting to expand his repetoire.

For example, on Thursday of last week, he wanted desperately to bring his blow up guitar and toy car that he got at the Crabtree picnic into daycare. Now, they have asked parents to limit bringing toys to school on Friday only. One, it is less disruptive during class. And, two it is easier to keep track of who brought which toy one day of the week, rather than every day. Mikie understands that he can only bring toys to school on Friday, and was therefore desperate to convince me that it WAS Friday (thinking it was easier than trying to convince me to let him bring a toy in on a Thursday). Now, while I wished it were Friday, it obviously wasn't. At this point, he switched tactics, telling me that if he couldn't bring a toy to school today, he wouldn't bring any toys to school ANYMORE.

After 10 minutes of standing in the parking lot, trying to rationalize with him, I gave in, angrily telling him to get his toy and get out of the car immediately.

This evening, he pulled another threat. We had gone to Red Robin for dinner, but Mikie decided he didn't want the hamburger he ordered. I forced him to eat some of my chicken strips. Of course, when it came time to go to bed, his belly was conveniently hungry. And, not just for anything, but for blueberries. Unfortunately, I hadn't bought any blueberries. We tried to convince him to eat grapes, but he was adamant about eating blueberries. The conversation proceeded as follows:

Mikie: "Mom, I have a great idea. You can go out to the store and buy some blueberries and bring them home so I can eat them."

Mom: "All the stores are closed. We can buy blueberries tomorrow. Eat something else instead."

Mikie: "I have a better idea. Dad can run to the store so fast, he can drive Lightening, and get the blueberries. . . "

Mom: "No one is going to the store for blueberries tonight. All the stores are closed. Eat some peanut butter crackers."

Mikie: "Okay, but if there aren't any blueberries for me to eat in this house, than I am going to stick my head out the window."

Mom: now completely exasperated "Well, go open a window because we don't have any blueberries!"

At this point, Mike could not contain his amusement any longer. He was mumbling "open a window" through his laughter. This only prompted Mikie to laugh, too, and me to get annoyed at the two of them.

Some days I wish he'd follow through on some of these threats. It would make my life easier (or at least more amusing).

Love, The Trahans

Grocery Shopping

Have you ever seen a woman with young children using the self-checkout at the grocery store? Probably not. And there is a very good reason why, as I recently discovered. . .

Mikie and I went to the grocery store one evening after work. I needed to deposit a check, and figured we could pick up some groceries while we were there. The grocery store has a nack for strategically displaying kids books near the bank. And, since Mike and I encourage Mikie's love of reading (ie buy most books he asks for), I agreed to buy him the activity book he found. It actually looked neat: it came with models of the finding Nemo characters that you could put together to show the insides of each animal (clown fish, dolphin, shark, crab, etc.)

Of course, we still had shopping to do, and Mikie desperately wanted to open the book and start assembling the characters. Pushing him through the store (and not in a cart, I literally used my hand to direct him down each aisle), we managed to collect the few groceries I needed. By this point, I had a choice:

1. Do I stand in one of the three manned checkout lines, waiting patiently behind people with carts overflowing with groceries, all the while explaining to my child that he cannot open the book until we pay for it, or
2. Do I opt for one of the deserted self-checkout lines, which would allow me to pay for the book and leave the store in minutes?

Obviously, I chose option #2. What sensible (more likely, impatient) mother wouldn't? The smart ones, that's who.

Of my five items, what was the first thing I scanned? The book. Rookie mistake. Because, if you have ever used the self-checkout, you know that you must "Place your item in the bag" and LEAVE IT THERE. Every time you remove an item from the bag, the computer locks up on you, because it can't keep an accurate weight and thinks you are trying to shoplift. So, everytime Mikie put a finger on the book (even if it was still in the bag), the machine locked up saying "Please wait for attendant". Of course, the attendant could have easily come over and pressed some buttons that allowed my child to take the book, allowing me the freedom to finish scanning my items in peace. But, the attendant was busy bagging at one of the manned lines while talking to her friend, oblivious to what was going on at the self-checkout line. So, Mikie and I suffered through scanning the remainder of the items.

When I got home and began to tell my story to Mike (looking for sympathy), he said "Why did you scan the book first. I would have scanned it last!" Not exactly the sympathy I was looking for. I chose to believe that he would have made the same mistake. Either that, or he already had a similar issue and never admitted to it.

Happy Shopping.

Love, The Trahans

Water Sports

When I was pregnant with Mikie, we had gone in for an appointment where we were supposed to hear the heartbeat for the first time. We lived in panick for 24 hours after a nurse and two doctors couldn't find a heartbeat with their Doppler device. They sent us the next day for an ultrasound. The problem: our very active fetus was swimming laps around my uterus. He would float over to one side and kick off with his legs, zooming across the monitor to the other side. At the time, we joked he had the makings of the next Michael Phelps.

Fastforward four years. Mikie is obsessed with swimming and all water related activities. We took him to the beach and I was convinced he would want nothing to do with the ocean. And, while I love Misquamicut (especially seeing Kerrie and Norm), the waves aren't exactly calm. Even after being knocked off his feet and washed ashore, Mikie still wanted to go back in the water again (after he spit all the sand and seawater out of his mouth).

Here is some footage of Mikie swimming at the pool at Grandma Pookies house. I don't know how much swimming he did, but he loved jumping in:And, most recently, footage of Mikie at the Crabtree & Evelyn company picnic this week. They had both a moonbounce and a water slide. When they advertised the water slide, I have to admit, I thought they sent the "Fun Committee" to Walmart for a Slip & Slide. When we saw the water slide they rented, I regretted not bringing a bathing suit. However, it was only 75 degrees outside, and the water came straight from the well. To warm up after one of his many trips down the slide, Mikie asked for some ice cream (which he incidently inhaled through chattering teeth). We apologize in advance for the video; Mike couldn't tell what slide he was coming down. . .I don't know if the Olympics are in his future; but beach bum or surfer may be up there on his list.

Love, The Trahans

Friendly's

This weekend, we went to Pennsylvania to visit my mom, dad, and sister. As with most of our family, we quickly realized that no one wanted to spend time with Mike and I; they really just wanted to see Mikie. So, Mike and I took our cue and went out to dinner on Friday night, leaving Mikie to the care of Grandma Pookie and Auntie Katie.

As any doting grandma would do, they decided to take Mikie to his favorite restaurant, Friendly's. By the time they left, Mikie was starving. When they arrived, the waiter came over to take their drink order. Not one to be shy, Mikie announced "I would like a hotdog with french fries and chicken nuggets." My mom and sister discouraged him from ordering so much food. The waiter put in an order for a hotdog and french fries for Mikie while Grandma Pookie and Katie continued to decide what to eat.

Mikie's food arrives, and he INHALES it. Not only does he eat everything on his plate, he helps himself to my mom's french fries. The waiter stopped by to see how everyone was doing. Mikie quickly announced, "I would like a chocolate Monster Mash." My sister told him it wasn't time to order ice cream, that she and my mom were still eating. So, Mikie sat quietly, waiting for them to finish.

Shortly after the waiter left, he reappeared at the table behind Mikie and asked what they would like for dessert. Mikie turned around in his seat and announced "I would like a chocolate Monster Mash."

Eventually, he got his ice cream. And he ate every last drop (he literally held the cup up to his face to lick out the rest. . . I don't know who he gets that from).

Love, The Trahans

Forest Gump

Someone gave Mikie a shirt from the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company from Santa Monica Pier in California. It has a silly little shrimp on the front that Mikie loves. One day, in the car ride home from school (after a day of wearing the shirt), he started the following conversation:

Mikie: "Mom, can we get the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company movie?"

Mom: "Yes, we already have that movie at home."

Mikie: "Can we watch it when we get home?"

Dad: "Yes, but not tonight because it's a long movie."

Mom: under my breath "I don't think it's really appropriate. . . "

Mikie: "I love the army part of the Bubba Gump Shrimp Company movie. It's my favorite part."

Mom: "How do you know about the army part? You've never seen the movie."

Mikie: "Because I'm smart."

I totally asked for that one. It's his standard answer anytime I ask him how he knows something. . . because he's smart.

The next day, I discovered the truth. Mr. Baker, the owner of the daycare had seen his shirt and asked him if he had seen the movie. As soon as Mikie realized that there was a movie, he started asking a million questions. He told Mikie it had a sad part about the army, to which Mikie replied "I love the army."

While I admire his patriotism, some days I swear the kid is three going on thirty.

Love, The Trahans

Garbage

There's no better way to boost your self esteem than listen to your three year old. . .

Mikie came home from daycare a few weeks ago, asking for a dream catcher. Evidently, they had one at daycare and it kept him from having bad dreams. Now, I could have very easily purchased a dream catcher on the internet. But, Mikie and I were going to be home that Friday, waiting for the new couch. And, in my never ending pursuit of being the perfect mom, I thought it would be fun for us to make one.

Off we went to Michaels. Mikie picked out the feathers and beads himself, along with a few unplanned purchases (like new train tracks and Thomas engines). After two days of hard work, I had a finished a beautiful dream catcher, woven with gold thread and adorned with red feathers and beads.

I proudly showed it to Mikie, asking "So how does it look?" My child's response? "It looks like garbage."

As I was about to order a new dream catcher on the internet, Mikie came in and begrudgingly told me (through gritted teeth) that "it was beautiful". I'm 99% positive Mike put him up to it.

The next day, I saw the "dream catcher" they had at daycare. It was actually an authentic war shield, nearly 3 feet in diameter, the center of which was white fur. In comparison, my 6 inch feathery concoction does seem to fall short.

Love, The Trahans

Chips and the New Couch

After eight years of the old couch, we finally broke down and got a new couch and chair. We were smart enough to get them upholstered in microsuede to easily remove any stains or spills. And, so far, Mikie has done a good job listening to the rules and hasn't bounced on it. Unfortunately, he slobbered all over it twice tonight. Exasperated, Mike took him up to bed while I cleaned up.

Five minutes later, Mikie came back downstairs to apologize. As he tried to explain what happened, I swore he said "Maybe it was sh**" that he got on the couch. As I think any mom would react, I screamed "What did you say?" To which he said, "Maybe it was chips that I was eating."

I reminded him that there would be no eating near the couch and sent him bounding back off too bed.

I don't know what we are going to do with this child.

Love, The Trahans

The Slip & Slide

Given Mikie's love of water and Mike's hatred of the kiddie pool (the weight kills our grass), we recently purchased a Slip & Slide. It keeps both Mikes happy. The little one gets wet; the big one can both water the lawn and easily put the Slip & Slide away afterwards before our lawn is affected. And, as you can see from the video below, both of them enjoy sliding on it. Listen carefully for the "amazing new trick" Mikie learned.Hope you enjoy your summer as much as we are.

Love, The Trahans

Wanted

Matthew "The Moocher" Ryan, seen here, is wanted in the state of Massachusetts on charges relating to kidnapping of Thomas the Tank Engine, and theft of other related toys.

Suspect is a white male, born January 2005 in California, measuring slightly over 3 feet tall and weighing between 30 and 40 pounds. His last known residence is in the state of New Hampshire. He has light brown hair and frequently refers to himself in the third person.

While not known to be violent or in possession of a weapon, the suspect uses his charm to convince you to share things. As seen below, once he has disarmed you, the suspect not so subtly stuffs possessions into his pants or shirt until he can make an escape. Anyone with information relating to this dangerous fugitive is asked to contact the nearest U.S. Marshals Office. A 500¢ reward is offered for any information leading to the suspect's arrest.

Love, The Trahans

Breaking & Entering

There is such a thing as "too smart for your own good." Or for your parents' own good. . .

If you have been to our house, you know that we put locks on some of the bifold doors. Specifically, Mikie's closet (so he can't make a mess while we are sleeping) and the pantry (for obvious reasons). The "locks" consist of a simple hook and eye closure that is placed about an inch above my head (about 5 feet 4 inches or so).

In addition to getting taller, Mikie has been getting smarter. Here is a video of his latest trick: breaking into the pantry to make himself a peanut butter sandwich. Note the way he applauds himself on grabbing the peanut butter, singing "I got the peanut butter, I'm the man!"

Yes, we did sit and watch, rather than help, for two reasons. First, he is Mr. Independent and HATES when we help him ("No, I can do it" is a favorite phrase). Second, he has been doing this since shortly after Easter, and we have yet to document it. The first time, I was trying to get Mikie out the door to school. I was pouring myself a glass of juice, when I turned to catch Mikie pulling a HUGE chocolate Easter bunny out of the closet, proudly proclaiming "Mom, I'll eat THIS for breakfast."

At least this time, he made more healthy food choices.

Love, The Trahans

A Whole Lot of Love

On the drive back from visiting family in Rhode Island, Mikie informed us that he was hungry. When I asked him what he wanted to eat, he said "name some stores we eat at." Instead of naming stores, I suggested we go home and have a peanut butter/bread/goldfish sandwich (one of his favorites), followed by ice cream. My rationale was that by suggesting we make ice cream, he wouldn't suggest going to Friendly's.

Of course, my idea backfired, because the next thing out of his mouth was "I have a good idea. . . let's go to Friendly's." To which I responded "That is a good idea. We should go on Thursday" (since Thursday is his favorite day, I thought he would go for it). Again, I was completely wrong. The conversation continued like this:

Mikie: whining "Noooo! We should go today!"

Mom: "But I don't want to go today because I don't feel good. Let's just go home and Daddy can make you a Chocolate Monster ice cream with ears after dinner."

Mikie: "Noooo! That would be a BAD idea."

Mikie: after a pause "Guys, I have a good idea. We can drop Mom at home and Dad and I could go to Friendly's."

Mike: "Well, that is a well thought out plan."

In my head, I'm thinking, "Sure, throw the old broad out of the car now. She can walk home from here. . . it's only a few miles."

It's nice to be loved.

Love, The Trahans

The Driving Lesson

Thankfully, they don't grant drivers licenses at age 3 1/2. Click here to view footage of Mikie playing MarioKart with Mike.

If it wasn't obvious when he turned the steering wheel around a full 360 degrees, the fact that he enjoys when he falls off the cliff into the black void makes me not want to get in a car with him behind the wheel.

Love, The Trahans

Excuses

I am going to write a book of all the excuses my child has come up with. Needing to go to Target because it might close FOREVER is still one of my favorites. But, this morning he had a pretty good one for why he needed a Reese's Peanut Butter Cup for breakfast. . .

Mikie: whining "I need a piece of candy because I'm sad because on Friday I was choking all day."

Mom: "So, let me see if I understand. You need a piece of candy because on FRIDAY you were choking all day?"

Mikie: exasperated "Okay, so now can I have a piece of candy?"

I rationalized that Reese's contain peanut butter, an excellent source of protein (and therfore good for you). And, honestly, is it that different from the peanut butter sandwich he occasionally eats for breakfast? So, I compromised and gave him half. With some muffins (whose nutritional value Mike will not question when reading this post).

In addition to writing the book, I am going to have "Sucker" tatooed on my forehead. . .

Love, The Trahans

Bad Dreams

This evening, as Mike was putting Mikie to bed, Mikie made him promise that if he had a bad dream, Mike had to call the police. The REAL police.

I can imagine that call:

Operator: "911, what's your emergency?"

Mike: "Yes, my son had a bad dream."

Operator: "And?"

Mike: "That's it. He told me to call the police."

I'm sure they would really appreciate that call. Especially if it came in at 3:00 in the morning.

Evidently, we aren't good enough to scare away bad dreams. We need to bring in the big guns.

Love, The Trahans

Thomas

Since the weather forecast called for rain (and we were still tired from yesterday), we decided not to attempt gardening on Sunday. After spending the morning snoozing, I decided we needed to get up and do something. I went online and found that Thomas the Tank Engine was in town. Well, relatively speaking. He was actually nearly an hour and a half from our house. But, he was only going to be around until Monday. And, since we talked about taking Mikie for the last two years, I decided if we didn't go now, we would never go.

We all rushed to shower and get dressed. Mikie even dressed himself (something he is very motivated to do when he thinks it's a race). And, by 2:15, we arrived in Edaville, temporary home of Thomas the Tank Engine. As you can see from the pictures below, we had a great time. For $18 a person, we got a 25 minute train ride on Thomas. But, admission also included free rides (we were expecting to have to pay more). So while waiting for our departure time, we had some fun.

Mikie and I rode the elephant ride:All three of us rode the Merry-Go-Round. If you click on the picture, you can see video of Mikie on his horse. He sat closest to the center, so he could look at himself while riding. Listen closely, and you can hear him "going up and going down."
We also took Mikie's first ride on a Ferris Wheel. Mikie was not scared at all. . . he actually liked rocking the basket. Mike wasn't too keen on the ride, especially when we were ascending to the top. Evidently, he didn't like seeing the inner workings of the ride (no faith in the RPI education G.W. Ferris received). Thankfully, the rain held out, and we had a great time.

Love, The Trahans

The Chinese Restaurant

After our trip to the beach, we decided to take advantage of being in Rhode Island by heading to our favorite Chinese food restaurant, Lucky House, in Ashaway. This was rather adventurous, since Mikie does not like Chinese food. But, being that he was in a good mood AND we had fed him a hot dog right before leaving the beach, we thought we would press our luck.

Mikie was pretty good, all things considered. We did however realize that he isn't the most politically correct child. At one point during dinner, Mike threatened to tickle Mikie, to which Mikie loudly responded "I'll take you down to Chinatown, Dad."

Luckily, none of the Asians in the restaurant seemed offended.

Love, the Trahans

The Beach

After a grueling Saturday morning of weeding flower beds, laying down weedblock and mulch, Mike and I gave up gardening in favor of a trip to the beach. We hadn't seen his mom & Norm in a while, and the only time we can in the summer is if we go to Misquamicut. (FYI, for anyone who doesn't know, Norm owns a snack bar down on Misquamicut beach that he and Kerrie spend every waking minute at from April through September).

So, we packed up our sandbuckets and towels, donned our bathing suits and were off. It's never hard to convince Mikie to go visit Grandma Kerrie and Grumpy, since he knows they will let him work the soft serve ice cream machine and make the largest cup of chocolate ice cream imaginable.

We set up camp close to the snackbar, so that we could visit if and when there were slow times. And, as you can see from previous posts, Mikie likes to be close to the hill of sand, in case he feels the need to run or roll in it.

My favorite part of the beach is people watching. And, boy I wasn't disappointed. We were seated next to a lovely family (sarcasm noted). There were a number of young children, and a few people who must have been the adults, although, I use the term "adult" loosely since the party lacked any figure of authority. At some point, one of the adults and most of the children decided it would be fun to feed the seagulls. Needless to say, this annoyed me to know end since seagulls were swooping overhead from all directions to get at the Twinkies they were throwing(yes, they were feeding them Twinkies). After doing this on and off for about 15 minutes, and gathering quite the flock, one of the adults realized they should stop. The children didn't listen until they ran out of food to throw. But, not before one of the hungry birds shat on one of the adults. Hmmmm, maybe it wasn't such a good idea to feed the seagulls? This group was only at the beach for the sun, so as 4:30 rolled around and one of the kids got sand in her eye, they packed it up and left. Mikie, had a great time. In addition to his ice cream, we made sand castles. In reality, I made sand castles and Mikie poured buckets of water over them when I was done to watch them melt away. He also buried his feet, and ate sand. Typical three-year old stuff.As Norm and Kerrie closed up for the day, we cleaned up and headed back home.

Love, the Trahans

Golf. . . a Contact Sport

I've always said golf and baseball would be more interesting if there were time limits, and if they were more contact oriented, like football and hockey. Could you imagine if Tiger Woods went up to put, and out of nowhere, Rocco Mediate ran up and tackled him? Come to think of it, I think someone made a commercial like that several years ago. . .

Anyway, Mikie obviously is trying to start a movement to make mini golf a contact sport. He has already combined mini golf with hockey, in that he feels all balls are fair game, and there is no stop in play while waiting for your competitor to swing. But, on Friday, he took it to a new level. Donning his newly aquired shin pads (he starts pee wee soccer in the fall), he clubbed me in the shins while swinging at the ball. See pictures below:
Luckily, he felt bad when he realized that I didn't have any shin pads myself. And, I felt bad after yelling at him (I was in pain) that no one plays golf this way (especially when he looked around and noticed that no one else was wearing shin pads).

He continued to buck the system by wearing his "gear". Although, he compromised and stopped trying to take me out when I went to put my ball into the hole.

Love, The Trahans

The Family Pet

Lots of families have pets. Typically they are dogs or cats. Occasionally they are smaller animals like fish, hampsters, hermit crabs. But how many families can say they are the proud owners of a pet worm? The Trahans can.

Yes, never to be branded as "typical", Mikie found a worm at school. After "playing" with it in the sun, the teacher thought it would be best to give Mikie a cup of dirt for the worm to live in. As she put it, the worm was looking a bit "dehydrated".

By the time I arrived at school, Mikie, who was covered in more dirt than the worm, was running to show me his new friend. I couldn't see the worm in the dirt; the teacher thought it was hiding. Honestly, it's amazing the worm didn't have a heart attack from being "loved" by my son.

Now came the fun of transporting Mikie and Wormy (his official name is Wormy Squirmy) home. To prevent the worm being unleashed in the car, I thought it best if Wormy traveled in the cup holder next to me. Thankfully, he is a well behaved worm, and didn't attempt to exit his plastic cup while the car was moving.

When we got home, Mikie proudly showed us all Wormy. Part of him was still pulsing, so we think he is still alive and well. We transported him to a larger glass bowl with some fresh dirt (since worms eat dirt). And, he is currently resting on the kitchen table.

I think Mike finally agrees that our child is DESPERATE for a pet, dog, hampster, or, in this case, worm. So, we will start looking more seriously into a dog (since I had bad luck with hampsters as a child). And, in a few days, I will attempt to convince Mikie to return Wormy to his mom and dad in the school playground.

In the interim, here are pictures of Mikie and Wormy:
I'd just like to note that I did ask Mikie if any of the other boys got pet worms. His reply, "No. But I got a worm."

Love, The Trahans

UPDATE: Sadly, Wormy is no longer with us. He passed away sometime in the evening of June 17th. Maybe the excitement of the Celtics crushing the Lakers was too much for him. Or, more likely, he may have gotten sick from the blend of dirt and Miracle Grow potting soil I put him in. Not having the heart to break it to Mikie, we convinced him that Wormy was "homesick" and that we should let him live in our garden.

¿Hablas español? Claro que sí!

Translation: Do you speak Spanish? Of course!

Now, I don't know about anyone else, but when I get up and get in the shower in the morning, I am not completely awake. Heck, many days I leave the overhead light off and shower by the filtered sunlight trickling in through the window. While I CAN wake up and get things accomplished, I don't consider myself a "morning person".

So, at 5:45 in the morning, I was not expecting my three year old to come storming into the bathroom screaming, "Come downstairs with me, Mommy." It took me a few seconds for my brain to process that the loud voice I was hearing a) belonged to my child and b) was talking to me. I called back, "I can't; I am taking a shower." Evidently, he either didn't notice or didn't care, because he continued to insist that I come downstairs to play. The volume of his demands was quickly breaking through the fog in my head. As reason set in, I poked my head out of the shower and said "You go downstairs now, and I will come down after I am done showering." As per his usual, Mikie made sure to reiterate the terms of our agreement, to make sure I understood:

Mikie: "I will go downstairs, and you can come downstairs after your shower. ¿Comprendo?"

Mom (to self): Did he just say "Comprendo?" Where would he pick that up? No one he knows speaks Spanish. . .

Mikie: louder "Mom, ¿Comprendo?"

Mom: "Comprendo."

I am still not sure where he learned this. I later found out that he said something similar to one of his teachers last week at school too. Evidently, just asking "Okay" isn't good enough anymore. He has to say it in another language. Not sure if he is being cute or a smarty pants. . .

Con amor, Los Trahans

Slang

Tonight, I was talking on the phone and making Mikie's bed up with clean sheets. Mikie (always needing to talk to me when I am having a conversation with others) came over and started talking:

Mikie: whining "Mommy, I want. . . I want. . . I want. . . I want. . . "

Mom: "Mikie, spit it out!"

Mikie: confused "But there's nothing in my mouth."

Eventually, I stopped laughing, and he told me what he wanted to say (that he didn't want to go to bed).

Good thing I didn't say "put a sock in it."

Love, The Trahans

Red Sox Nation

Every time I have been to a baseball game, I have seen little boys, not much older than my son, watching the game with their dads. They have their hats on and their gloves. Their excitement shows on their faces. They are ecstatic just to be watching a live baseball game with their dads.
Yesterday, we found out that this image does not apply to Mikie. Why we thought Mikie would be like a typical child (when he is atypical in most ways) is beyond me. Yesterday, we dared to take Mikie to his first Red Sox game at Fenway Park.

I think we were doomed to fail. First, Mikie may have inherited my dislike of baseball. Honestly, the sport needs a time limit. Every other sport has one. Having said that, my interest in baseball has definitely grown, being forced to watch it every night the Red Sox have played for the last 21 months that we have lived here. I know the majority of the players, although there are a few I don't particularly care for, not to mention names (Manny DelCarmen). And, watching the game at Fenway is totally different than watching a game at any other ballpark I have been to (which, to be honest, is only Camden Yards).

As you can see from the picture below, Mikie evidently found the game too long as well. Before they started singing the National Anthem, Mikie was asking when we could go home. It didn't help that his view was obstructed by the people sitting in front of him. And, since we were in right field, there wasn't much action close at hand to keep him entertained. When the ice cream vendor walked by, he fell out of his seat in his zealousness to get an ice cream. Unfortunately, the guy was peddling Hoods ice cream cups, not soft serve in a plastic ball cap. So, Mikie ended up passing on the ice cream until Mike gave in and took him to the concession stand.
We had some tramatic experiences on the subway ride home as well. Without going into too many details, the meltdown Mikie had on a crowded subway was momentous. I think there are plenty of people in the Boston area who are reconsidering procreating after witnessing the display he put on. One woman even offered me her seat, claiming it looked like I needed it, given the "handful" we had to deal with. Of course, as soon as the majority of patrons exited the train (hopefully, because it was their stop and not because of the noise), Mr. Hyde turned back into a happy three year old. He sat happily in his seat until we reached our station.

As usual, we took away some valuable parenting lessons: first, spending money to take a three year old to a baseball game is not advisable, no matter how much interest he has shown in the sport beforehand. Second, if you DO decide to take said child to a sports game, make sure you had no intention of watching the game yourself. Because, you will inevitably end up distracted when someone makes a noteworthy play (like a 3 run homerun). Finally, keeping a child awake past their usual bedtime to watch a game that he has no interest in seeing disrupts the child, the parents, and CITIES of innocent victims who are forced to witness his overly exhausted temper tantrums.

On the plus side, the Red Sox won. Even if we weren't there to see the whole game.
Go Sox.

Love, The Trahans

The Wedding

Two weeks ago, we traveled to Kingston, NY for my cousin John's wedding. We forced Mikie into a shirt and tie (as opposed to the t-shirt he wanted to wear), and coerced him into going with us with the promise of swimming in the hotel pool afterward. He kept the tie on for the entire ceremony, probably because he was unconscious. We're not sure if he was just tired, or if we gave him a mild concussion when we lifted him into the golf cart that drove us from the parking lot up to the ceremony site. As soon as the ceremony ended, he ditched his "costume" (as he affectionately referred to his tie), unbuttoned his collar, and started to party. First on the list, grab a drink from the bar. He stuck with water on the rocks, even though there were a few instances where I wished he was drinking something a little stronger to help sedate him. Second order of business: climb on the rocks with the other kids. Shortly after we entered the reception area, it started pouring. Unfortunately, the reception site was not parent-friendly. Since the sides opened to the outdoors, there were many opportunities for smaller children to run free. And, Mikie took advantage of ever opportunity to get away. As soon as the rain started, Mikie found his way outside. I wasn't his friend for a good part of the evening (having ruined his fun by insisting he get out of the rain). But, he forgave me before they cut the cake.

Unfortunately, by 9:30, it became very evident that Mikie was up past his bedtime. We ended our evening short and headed back to the hotel. He got a second wind when we arrived, and informed Grand Da that we should go swimming. After hugs and kisses to Grand Da and Aunt Nancy, we all went to bed.

I did make good on my promise of the pool. . . Mikie and I were the first people in when the pool opened at 9am. He was upset that I didn't bring his life jacket, so he couldn't swim by himself. But, after 30 minutes of playing in the water, he had completely forgotten.

Here are some pictures from the wedding:

John, Tom, & Bill standing at the altar.
Brienna, walking down the aisle.
Mikie and Grand Da, looking dapper in their dress clothes.
Mikie and Dad admire the view of the Catskills.John & Brienna cut the cake. . .
while Mikie enjoys eating the cake.

Love, The Trahans

Virtual Tour

While we were in New York for my cousin John's wedding, my Aunt reminded me that in the 18 months since we moved (and since starting this blog), I keep promising to post pictures of the house. And, I still haven't done it. So, for the people who have not yet seen our house, I present "The Virtual Tour". Kind of. . . it's really just a slideshow of pictures. But, it's better than nothing. For the people who have already seen our house, you can either watch and be impressed by my slideshow skills (ha ha). Or, you can skip ahead to the other posts.
Because of issues with the various "slideshow" programs I found, there are no captions. But, it is a house. I'm sure you can all figure out what each room is (the bathrooms are the ones with toilets, the kitchen is the one with the appliances). I took pictures of everything except the basement. I even included pictures of some closets. The small closet is the "laundry room" (I use the term "room" loosely since it is a small closet.) It's the one with the laundry and a washer & dryer in the picture. The large closet is the master closet. It has a walk-out attic (the room that looks like an unfinished storage area). If the Celtics win the NBA Finals, Mike may turn the attic into an indoor basketball court in celebration. . .

Love, The Trahans

The Grass is Always Greener

Have you ever been somewhere and you see other people's children sitting quietly and coloring, or helping, or just LISTENING to their parents? And, you can't help but wonder for a split second "why can't my child be like that?" I think everyone does (and if they don't, please don't spoil my delusion). . .

Last night, watching Jay Leno, I saw a clip that made me realize that I have a lot to be thankful for. Jay has a segment "Dealing with the Public" where he plays amusing 911 tapes and surveillance footage. The third clip he played was of a call from a "4-year-old boy" who was being "abused." You can click here to watch. They show the clip at 13:43 into the show from June 3rd. I've listed the transcript below in case you are in a hurry:

Child: "Could you come get my Nana?"

Operator: "You want us to come get your Nana?"

Child: "‘Cause Nana’s being mean. . . "

Operator: "She’s being mean?"

Child: ". . . yeah. . . "

Operator: "How ‘bout if you let me talk to Nana? I’ll talk to her."

Nana: "Who is this?"

Operator: "Hi, this is Eaton County 911. Is this Nana?"

Nana: laughing ". . . yeah. . ."

Operator: "Well I have a report by this 4-year-old that you’re being mean."

Nana: "He’s not getting his way, I want him to put his underwear on and he won’t do it."

Operator: laughing "I think that’s perfectly fine, and we will not send the police for that. Thank you, ma’am."

Nana: "Thank you."

Operator: "Bye-bye."

Nana: "Bye-bye."

Could you imagine having to explain to a 911 operator that you weren't being mean to your child? I mean, Mikie has threatened to call the police on me (see January's post And The Oscar Goes To), but he has never actually followed through on it. Granted, I'm sure it helps that he doesn't know what the number 9 looks like yet. . .

Love,
The Trahans

I'm With Crazy

I think I need to have that put on a T-shirt. Or tatooed on my forehead. People might stare less. . .

Today, I picked Mikie up from school before lunch to go to the pediatrician's office. He had a cut on his head that was getting larger and more inflamed as the week went on. So, I wanted to have someone else look at it to make sure it wasn't infected.

In the 4 hours he was at daycare, Mikie miraculously managed to get dirty and sweaty. I know, it's hard to believe, but somehow he managed. I quickly grabbed his Lunchable and threw him in the backseat with a Scooby Doo cartoon, and we were on our way.

By the time we arrived at the pediatrician's, Mikie was even messier. He decided that the Oreo cookies that were the "snack" part of his Lunchable made a tastier turkey sandwich than the Ritz crackers. Yes, he ate two chocolate stuffed Oreo's with a slice of turkey in between (I think it's safe to cross "chef" off his list of potential career paths). He now had dirt covered knees, a chocolatey beard, and sweaty hair sticking up from his head at very odd angles. And, appropriately, he was wearing his "Five Reasons I'm in Trouble" t-shirt. Since I was dressed in work clothes (I even put on dress shoes in place of my slippers to look more professional).

So, making quite the mismatched pair, in we walked to the waiting room. And, since Mr. Personality decided to run around the office, everyone got to see how "handsome" he looked.
We eventually made it out of the waiting room and into the exam room. The doctor walked in and examined the cut. I started explaining the history, at which point Mikie, in the most exasperated tone ever, rolled his eyes at me and shouted, "IT'S JUST A BUG BITE MOM! YOU CAN WASH IT LATER!" The doctor thanked "Dr. Michael for his astute assessment". Meanwhile, I couldn't help but think, "You couldn't have told me this yesterday and saved me a $20 copay, 80 miles of gas and 3 hours of my life?" But, as Mike pointed out, I wouldn't have believed him if he did tell me. . . after all, he is only three.

The doctor told us to monitor the spot for the next week and call if it gets worse. She said it could have been a bite that he bumped recently and was bleeding under the skin. Looking at him, she said "After all, it looks like he is not unfamiliar with bumps and bruises."
And, as if on cue, Mikie chose that exact instant to throw himself off the examination table, landing on the floor on his hands and knees.

At least it was farely obvious his wounds are self inflicted. .

I really am a good mom. I swear.

Love,
The Trahans

The Dragon Warrior

Have you ever seen the movie "Old School" with Will Farrell and Vince Vaughn? There is a scene towards the end, where Will Farrell does this gymnastics floor routine with a ribbon. He is so serious about his leaps, and it is hysterically funny. This footage of Mikie reminds me of that scene. . .

To put it in perspective, thanks to effective advertising during the Scooby Doo cartoon (the only non-PBS show we let him watch), Mikie is EXTREMELY excited about the new "Kung-Fu Panda" movie with Jack Black. Because it is not currently out on DVD (a concept he doesn't quite appreciate), we have had to download the songs from i-Tunes and play the trailer on the computer about a dozen times a day. In addition, Mike and I spent two and a half hours on Monday morning constructing a Po figure out of paper print outs (one of the "fun" activities on the website). Of course, after Mike spent $3 on the action figures at the store on Tuesday, our hard work is no longer appreciated. Granted, I think both Mike and I would have killed Mikie had he broken the paper Po after we finished. . .

9 more days until the movie opens. . .

Love, The Trahans

Mother's Day

To celebrate Mother's Day, my mom flew up for the weekend. We all drove down to Misquamicut to visit Grandma Kerrie. Mikie had painted some lovely sculptures for the two Grandma's. He wanted to paint snakes for both, but I convinced him that we should look for something else for Grandma Pookie (since I didn't think she would appreciate a snake as much as Grandma Kerrie). Unfortunately, I haven't gotten the pictures developed of the Mother's Day gifts, because they were quite the site (Grandma Kerrie somehow thought her snake was a bong. . . )
While Mike, my mom and I all enjoyed breakfast, Mikie helped Grandma Kerrie take orders. He's cheap labor; all he asks in return is to work the ice cream machine. So, after eating only a chocolate donut for breakfast, Mikie feasted on a large cup of chocolate ice cream.
As we were about to get on 95-North, we got a call that Gram, Auntie Di, Auntie Shell and Arcangelo were at the beach. So, we turned around for another two hours of fun. Mikie had taken Norm's request to heart, and attempted to push the sand pile around on the beach. Arcangelo, who was initially distressed at the mess Mikie was getting into, quickly decided that if you can't beat them, join them. See some of their antics here:

The best gift of the day: Mikie was so worn out he slept for three hours afterwards.

Happy Belated Mother's Day.

Love, The Trahans

Happy Birthday, Auntie Katie

Tomorrow, my sister turns 27. I would say that's old, but since she is my "baby" sister, I can't. Yes, the same sister who, when I turned 19, told me "You're old. Next year you'll turn 20, which is REALLY old, then you die." Granted, she wasn't even 16 at the time, so I guess her perspective was a little warped. Given her track record of dislocated knees, it's amazing she can still WALK in her old age. In honor of her birthday (no, I won't sing), Mikie picked out a lovely card. Actually, he picked it out as a wedding card for my cousin John's wedding (since it has a tongue sticking out on the front, it wasn't exactly appropriate). However, it was befitting of Auntie Katie. . .
In addition to the sentimental card, Mikie has picked out the most thoughtful gift for his favorite Aunt. . . a playground. By thoughtful, I meant he thought of what would benefit him. Not unlike his favorite aunt. Two peas in a pod. He said that he would rent a truck so she could drive it to her house and put it together so she could play on it with "a lot of toys". When I informed him that Auntie Katie lives in a little house with Bud & Henri (Mikie's favorite fuzzy friends), he seemed very upset. The conversation went like this:

Me: "Auntie Katie lives in a little house. She doesn't have room for a playground. She can use the one at her school, and she can come play on your swingset."

Mikie: "I have a BIG house, with lots of toys."

Me: "Yes, you do." You don't have to remind me, because your dad and I pay the mortgage.

Mikie: "We can build Auntie Katie a BIG house so that she can have lots of toys AND a playground."

Okay, so building Katie a big house IS more thoughtful than gifting her a swingset that he can use when visiting. However, I THINK he might have a warped sense of how much money we have. Just slightly. I mean, I know the cost of living is less in North Carolina than in Massachusettes. But, if I had that kind of cash lying around, I think Mike and I would be on some beach with our nanny right now.

So, to Katie, the old maid. If I win the lottery, I promise to build you a BIG house.

Happy Birthday.

Love, The Trahans

Top Ten Quotes of the Day

Okay, I don't have ten. But, Mikie has had some pretty good lines lately. Here's a run down of some of today's favorites:

1. Target: Mikie recognizes certain places by sight (chalk it up to effective brand marketing): Dunkin Donuts, Home Depot, and TARGET. His favorite place is Target, primarily because it sells toys. So, when we pulled up at the mall to get my bracelet shortened, he was disappointed to hear that there wasn't a Target inside. While I was trying to carry on a conversation with the sales girl, Mikie kept trying to interrupt me to tell me why we needed to leave and go to Target (he should really be on their payroll). His best excuse: "If we don't go to Target NOW, it may close on us FOREVER." While the economy may be weak, I feel confident that Target won't be closing forever. At least not this week.

2. Clothes: After the unproductive trip to the jewelers, we went in search of an outfit for Mikie to wear to my cousin's wedding in two weeks. As I tried to drag him into Gymboree, I explained that we needed to get him a nice shirt for the wedding. His response (which seemed to amuse the sales girl): "I don't want a nice shirt for the wedding. I can wear THIS shirt." I tried to explain that the faded orange T-shirt emblazoned with the words "I GET MY MUSCLES FROM MY DAD" was not appropriate formal wear. He didn't seem to believe me (or care).

3. Speed Racer: After Gymboree, we went to Sears in search of the elusive dress shirt. I figured it was safe, since Sears only sells toys at Christmas. However, they had a small display of Speed Racer toys strategically placed in the children's clothing section. Of course, Mikie NEEDED a Speed Racer car. So, I promised he could pick out one if he was good. He picked out one (the white Mach 5 car), but informed me that "On Tuesday, I can get the yellow car." When I told him that today WAS Tuesday, he said "On the FIRST Tuesday, I can get the yellow car." By the time we reached the front of the line, Tuesday became Friday. And, as we exited the store, he said "On Thursday, I can get the yellow car." Luckily, he has no concept of time, so he shouldn't be too upset when we don't make it back to the store in two days.

Love, The Trahans

Bad Habits

I feel the need to preface this post by saying we are good parents. Overall, I think Mikie is a clean and well behaved child. I don't think he has any gross habits (although, like most children his age, he does like to pick his nose and eat it). So, I am embarrassed to admit to being the parents of the kid that pees in the playground.

Yes, today when I picked Mikie up at school, the teacher told me he had a good day, with the exception of an incident on the playground. I braced myself, expecting to hear that he stole a toy or pushed another child. The teacher informed me that Mikie called her over while they were playing outside, saying, "Ms. Janice. I have something cool to show you." As she approached, Mikie proceeded to pull down his pants and take aim. She ran over and told him that we could not pee outside, that if he had to use the bathroom, he had to go inside. Mikie's response: "It's okay, my dad let's me do it."

It started out innocently enough. Mike and Mikie were waiting for me in a parking garage in New York when Mikie announced he had to pee. Not having enough time to turn off the car and run into a nearby building, Mike showed Mikie how to "pee on the road" (as Mikie calls it). And, I have to admit, when we are on long trips, or even driving our 45 minute commute to work, if Mikie tells me he has to "pee on the road", I pull over to a wooded area and let him out. Each time, I try and explain that we can't pee anywhere. We have to be in the woods, not in someone's yard. And, preferably in a place where no one will see us (or catch us as the case may be). Unfortunately, this doesn't always work out (remember the post about peeing in Home Depot's parking lot under the surveillance camera?)

Obviously, I was MORTIFIED. I could picture all the toddler boys in Mikie's class running home and peeing in their backyards because "Mikie does it". I tried to explain the history to the teacher, who said not to worry about it, she didn't care what he did elsewhere, she just wanted him to know he couldn't do it at school.

I immediately called Mike. Mostly to blame him for teaching our son this bad habit, since I am not equipped to teach him (even if I haven't exactly discouraged it). His response, "I guess we need to teach him NOT to blame Daddy."

Really, we ARE good parents. I promise.

Love, The Trahans

The Playdate

The title sounds innocent enough. Like "Halloween", it is a title that can be used to describe an event, or a horror film. This was our first REAL playdate. And, as you will see below, I understand why we hadn't had a playdate before.

Mikie's best friend at school is Connor. And, since Connor's parents had recently done us a huge favor watching Mikie while I was sick, I felt like we should have Connor over for a playdate.

A playdate would have been an adventure in and of itself. I mean, two active four year olds (or, almost four in Mikie's case) against parents who have never dealt with more than one child at a time. But, our first playdate couldn't just be some run-of-the-mill-come-over-to-our-house afternoon. No, I decided we should all go to the CIRCUS!

In my defense, I was drunk at the time I suggested this plan. But, after the alcohol had worn off and I had slept on it for a week, the idea still sounded fun. After all, Mikie loves the circus. . . Mikie loves spending time with Connor. And, taking both kids to the circus meant I didn't have to plan activities for them to do all day when they got bored playing with the same stuff.

So, $177 later, I had bought four adult tickets to the circus (because Ringling Bros. considers you an adult if you are over the age of two), which included parking.

The big day rolled around. After picking up Connor, we headed off to the circus. We were an hour and a half early, which meant we had time to see the animals and the pre-show. Half of the arena is closed off with make-shift pens to house all the circus animals. It's a big area (since it is an arena), and somewhat chaotic since there are lots of parents and their kids running around trying to see the animals. They let you walk through before hand and see them up close. They have handlers on hand to tell you all about them. Connor's parents had told me that he likes to run off, so I spent all of my time trying to keep a hand (or at least an eye) on Connor while Mike held on to Mikie. We figured that man-on-man defense was our best approach. No joke, both kids were done seeing the animals in under ten minutes. They were both obsessed with the souvenir stand that was "conveniently" set up at the entrance and exit to the animal exhibit. So, against my better judgement, I let them each pick out a souvenir before the show. I was hoping it would keep them entertained throughout the rest of the event (even though I knew I would not be that lucky).

$41 later, Connor was the proud owner of two zebras (mom and baby), and Mikie walked away with a twirling dancing, light-up elephant toy. Interestingly enough, Mikie picked the exact same toy LAST time we went to the circus. So, NEXT time, we will be smart enough to bring it with us.

On to the pre-show. Again, our man-on-man defense worked well. I went with Connor to help a juggling clown. We met up with Mike and Mikie to dress up as circus performers, before catching Asia, the painting elephant. At this point in time, Connor asked for the one drink that they do not sell at the circus - - orange juice. I know this for a fact, because, not wanting the kid to have a bad time, I spent 10 minutes looking. I did find a Tropicana vending machine. But, it was empty. I guess the circus personnel figured what kid would want orange juice when they can have a rainbow colored snow cone in a zebra cup. $7.50 later, I returned with a large orange flavored soda (conveniently, they didn't have small or medium sizes) and a water. Although Connor did not like orange flavored soda, Mike took one for the team and drank it. Mikie, thankfully, was willing to share his water with his friend.

All of this activity brought us to the start of the show. As we walked to our seats, Connor decided that he wanted an elephant to go with his zebras. Knowing this would not be the end of the requests for stuff, I told him "Maybe later."

Let me take this opportunity to mention that Connor, in addition to being Mikie's best friend, is the youngest child of one of the VPs at Crabtree. So my motivation for keeping him happy was probably greater than most kids. First was the obvious: I don't want to hear the kid whine all day. Second: I don't want the kid to go home and complain that he had a bad time. Because, unlike other parents who I would only see at daycare during pick-up and drop-off, I have to work with Connor's dad. In hindsight, this should have entered my brain BEFORE suggesting the playdate. Unfortunately, the thought only occurred everytime I was faced with discipling or pacifying the two children . . .

The first half of the circus seemed to keep them happy. Mikie sat in his seat, or on one of our laps, watching the show. For the most part, Connor did the same. Although, he must have thought that his seat was on the floor, or in the aisle in front of us, since he and his zebras seemed to hang over the empty seat in front of them for a good part of the first act. As soon as intermission hit, Connor started to leave. I told him that the show wasn't over yet, and he said he needed an elephant. Trying to keep both kids in their seats (since, even if I wanted to get him the elephant now, there was no way we would get back before they started the second act), I promised we would get an elephant when the show was over.

And so began the longest second act of my life. Every five minutes, Connor turned to me to ask "Is it over yet?" or "Can we go now?" I slowly began to understand why many of the parents around me had gotten beers at the concession stand during intermission.

Eventually, the show ended. And, by this point, Mikie wanted a light-up sword. So, we ventured back to the souvenir stand. $50 later, we had one elephant and one light-up sword. I was smart enough to know that these toys were Mike and my tickets out of there. Holding the bags hostage, I promised each child could have their newest toy when they got in the car. It's not bribery, it's an incentive. . .

In addition to the loot the kids picked out, we also purchased two copies of a photo of Mikie and Connor posing on the Ringling Bros. elephant (see picture below), and two matching Ringling Bros. t-shirts. And one funnel cake for Mike and I, since you can't get funnel cake every day. This brought our grand total to: $348.50. Excluding gas.Shortly after we arrived home, I decided I was done with playdates. Or, at least, THIS playdate. Since the boys were playing nicely, Mike left to go to the grocery store. I made them each a sandwich (their request, although we were prepared to go to Friendly's), which neither one wanted to eat because they were "playing". Five minutes later, Connor was trying to break into the pantry (we keep it locked). I opened it up so he could see what was inside. He immediately took Mikie's Easter basket and helped himself to an egg. Mikie immediately took it back and told me to lock it up. He then informed Connor there weren't any more Easter eggs. Connor then decided he wanted to see Mikie's room. Mikie led him upstairs to show him his games. Five minutes later, and Connor had emptied the toy box of things Mikie hadn't played with since we moved in 18 months ago. I walked in to find him trying to break into the closet (another locked door). Not having learned my lesson the first time, I opened it up to show him it just had clothes in it. Alas, he saw some stuffed animals and old Halloween costumes that he wanted to play with.
Next thing I knew, Mike had returned from the store to find the two boys running around downstairs. I was upstairs, struggling to clean up the path of destruction left in their wake and bring down the toys Mikie told me they "needed" to play with downstairs.

It was now 7pm. We had the pleasure of Connor's company for a full 6 1/2 hours. Since he was refusing to eat the sandwich I had made (or anything else I was volunteering to make for him), I decided it was time to end this playdate. Since Mikie hadn't napped, Mike suggested I drive Connor home (40 minutes away) by myself so that he could get Mikie to bed. Connor sold out for the promise of watching a movie in the car. Mikie, unfortunately, was hysterical that he couldn't come too (although I think he was more upset that he couldn't watch the movie than he was about Connor leaving).

Which brings us to now. It is 10pm. All the children are asleep in their own houses. Mike is enjoying the Red Sox game in the midst of a living room full of toys. I am downing a Fuzzy Navel while reflecting on the day's events. What are the lessons I have learned? First, playdates to the circus are not a good idea, unless you are willing to shell out some serious cash. I shudder to think what could have been purchased with the money we gave Ringling Bros. today. Second, a playdate with a coworker's child is a dangerous thing. Odds are, you will feel guilted into spoiling the child so as not to ruin your relationship with the coworker. Lastly (and most importantly) NEVER embark on a playdate unless you are POSITIVE that you like the other child.

All kidding aside, I am sure we will have Connor over again. It just may not be before we have a finished basement that we can lock them in to wreak havoc on and not worry about the consequences. Which won't be for a while, given the shear amount of money spent on this first playdate. . .

Love, The Trahans