The Family that Freezes Together

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

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

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

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

Love, The Trahans

For Sale

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

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

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

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

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

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

Love, The Trahans

Bringing Sexy Back

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

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

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

Love, The Trahans

The Mover

I may not have the most discerning eye when it comes to interior design, but I'm pretty happy with the look of our house. Sure, there are things I would like to change (if money were no object). But, I don't think any room in my house is going to land me on "Rate My Space" or some other design show where they criticize your design sense.

Sadly, my daughter appears to disagree with me. Her newest past time involves rearranging all of the furniture in the kitchen. And, when you question her, she drops to the floor, and looks up at you sweetly, as if to say "Who, me? I don't know how all of the chairs ended up pushed against the wall." Click the picture below to witness her antics:Hopefully the novelty wears off soon. . .

Love, The Trahans

The Trahan's Take New York

Every December, I travel to New York for a technical conference. And, every year, Mike and I talk about having him and Mikie come into the city to meet me. Knowing Mikie is five and in school, I feel like I am on borrowed time when it comes to believing in Santa. Before the mystery of Christmas loses some of its luster, I figured we should go into Christmas to see THE Christmas tree.

My conference was from Wednesday through Friday. So, Friday afternoon, Mike and the kids drove in to meet me. . . As I should have suspected, both of them were more smitten with the hotel room than the tree. Hannah had plenty of things to investigate. And, Mikie had a queen size bed in his own room with his own TV (which he was quick to settle down in and decided he needed a similar set up at home).

Nibbles was in her glory. For the child who lives to people watch, New York City was like heaven. Here's a picture of her watching traffic and pedestrians from the window of the Manhattan Diner. Her cute little face (especially in that hat) stopped a lot of people as well. . . And, since our sole purpose was to do touristy things (and it was too cold to go to Central Park like I originally intended), we headed to Fifth Avenue to F.A.O. Schwarz. Our trip served two purposes. First, entertain Mikie. Second, give mom the opportunity to make her own Muppet. Yes, I am a HUGE Muppet fan. So, when I found out a year ago that you could create your own Muppet, I had to have one. Pregnancy prevented me from completing my mission last year. And, mail ordering your own Muppet just isn't the same. So, the first thing Nibbles and I did (after admiring the display of Steiff animals) was visit the What Not Workshop to make Mom a Muppet.

As you can see from the photos and video, Mikie enjoyed F.A.O. Schwarz too. I think he was slightly disappointed to find out that they didn't sell the life-size Lego Chewbacca (mom and dad are incredibly grateful since we can't imagine assembling something that consists of so many of only two different colors of Legos. . . )He did add a significant amount of other items (both Lego and non-Lego) to his Christmas list. And, he danced on the Big piano. . .

While Mikie was amusing, he was a far cry from Tom Hanks. However, right after his performance ended, we caught the official F.A.O. "piano dancers". UNBELIEVABLE. They performed Chopsticks. . . Heart and Soul. . . Happy Birthday. They even danced Tocata and Fugue. The video camera died right before Tocata and Fugue, but I found video footage CBS did of the same performance so you can experience it for yourself.

After that, the day went downhill. We walked over to Time Square to stop at the Toys 'R Us. We probably would have been much happier had we just left the city. In hindsight, why we thought it was a good idea to take two kids to the most tourist-ridden spot in New York on a Saturday afternoon two weeks before Christmas is beyond me. Momentary insanity? Lunch was crowded and overpriced (although completely expected). Toys 'R Us was mobbed with people who somehow thought I should not have brought an infant to a toy store. Yeah, I'm definitely not the target demographic. That infant forces me to spend more money at that franchise than I care to tally up. In my opinion, they should have closed the store and provided Hannah her own personal escort. For what it's worth, the most valued customer slept through the entire experience. So, she missed me arguing with able-bodied patrons who attempted to trample her in her stroller and occupied the elevator that was supposed to be reserved for strollers and wheel chairs only.

So, with very little cheer left in our hearts, we went back to our parking garage, paid the attendant $40 (yeah, for approximately five hours of parking), and fought our way back out of the city.Happy Holidays.

Love, The Trahans

Nibbles at Nine Months

Okay, at this point, she's actually ten months. But, the professional photos were taken at nine months, when I intended to write this post. . .Hannah has been quite busy over the last four months. She has gotten two teeth, which have been instrumental in destroying evidence of her brother's attempts at learning (see My Sister Ate My Homework).

She has learned how to crawl. Similar to her brother, she mastered the military crawl first (moving her arms while dragging the lower half of her body behind her). For a while, we didn't think she could crawl on her hands and knees. She would attempt it in the bath tub (rocking back and forth before pouncing on a toy), but never anywhere else. It finally dawned on us that she COULD crawl like a normal baby, albeit at a slower pace than her military crawl. She chose not to crawl on all fours because she can get around faster on her belly. Meaning, she has a better chance of keeping up with Trouble. . .

Hannah also realized that she doesn't need mom to pull herself up. Many other things will suffice: furniture, cabinets, her brother. And, these same objects are also great for stability when no one is around to hold your hands and help you walk. This combination, coupled with the same curiosity that her brother has, have made her quite the trouble maker in her own rite. So much so, that we have dubbed her "Trouble #2" or "Tiny Trouble".The baby who wouldn't even sit up in her crib now stands up and bounces in it. Never very fond of napping, the daycare staff have had to hide at naptime until she falls asleep. Otherwise, she stands up in her crib, just tall enough to for her eyes to peak over the half wall.She can climb upstairs. Well, at least up one step. She's never had the chance to get any further. Honestly, after seeing her successfully navigate one, we immediately purchased and installed a baby gate. And, she can open cabinets, goading us with her smile as if to say "Look what I can get into. Caught you unprepared, did I? Need to catch up on baby proofing, do you?"

Yes, in general, Hannah at nine months is quite entertaining. And exhausting. She is on a mission to do what her brother does. Only problem, she is four and a half years younger, and has both the determination and impatience of her mother. . . a lethal combination.

Love, The Trahans

My Sister Ate My Homework

See Hannah. . . See Hannah standing at Mikie's desk. . .


See Hannah grab Mikie's pencil. . .


See Hannah trying to eat Mikie's homework. . .

It's enough of a battle to get Mikie to sit down and focus long enough on his homework, especially since he frequently leaves his homework book at school all week. Icing on the cake will be the day I have to send in a note saying: "Dear Ms. Wooton, Please excuse Mikie from turning in his homework. His little sister ate it."

The two of them definitely keep me on my toes. That is, when they aren't driving me up a wall.

Love, The Trahans

The Trahan Family Christmas Tree

Yes, it is December. Time for the me to search for the largest, fullest Christmas tree in New England, strap it to the roof of the SUV, haul it back to the house where I will do everything in my power to overcome my lack of green thumb to keep the tree alive (or in suspended animation) for at least a month. At which point "Santa" (aka, the trash man) comes to take the tree to retire to the great woods in the sky (aka, become mulch). . .

On November 30th, I drove past the tree stand where we purchase tree #2 last year (see photos of last year's 14 foot tall beast here). And there, freshly delivered, stood the tallest, fullest tree I've seen (well, at least in the last few months). Unfortunately, inclement weather, long hours at work, and my scrooge/invalid of a husband prevented me from picking up the tree that was calling to me that night. Nor did I trust my instinct the next morning when my gut said "Who cares if the kids get to school on time? Stop and get that tree before it's too late." Alas, I drove by after work to find out the tree was purchased earlier that day, and Mikie and I were left to search for an alternate tree. . .Don't get me wrong, this year's tree is lovely. But, you don't buy the first tree you see (unless it is calling to you like the one that got away.) You at least browse all of the aisles and make sure the tree you are thinking of purchasing is definitely the best option. Unfortunately, neither my husband nor my son realized this shopper's rule. So, the first tree I stood up happened to be the tree that came home with us (no thanks to the very skilled salesperson who immediately asked "Mikie, is this the tree for you?")

And so, we are the proud owners of a 9+ foot tall premium Frasier fir Christmas tree, adorned with over 900 white lights and 600 multicolored lights for a grand total of 1500 twinkle lights.Hannah has been well behaved and, so far (knock on wood) has not attempted to pull the tree or any of the ornaments. I think the train tracks have discouraged her from trying (somehow, they seem to act like an invisible fence for babies). We'll see how long this lasts. . .

Merry Christmas.

Love, The Trahans

Sparky's House

Mike and I love the movie "National Lampoon's Christmas Vacation". Any holiday is an excuse to spout random quotes from the movie. "And why is the carpet wet, Todd? I don't know, Margo." "Grace? Grace died thirty years ago. THE BLESSING." And, all time favorite: "Is your house on fire, Clark?"

When you see the video and pictures of our neighbor's Christmas light display, you can understand how excited I get when I see the first tacky lawn ornament go up. Every drive by reminds me of turning on the nuclear back-up at the power plant. Every time I see that Santa flying through the sky, I think of Bethany singing the National Anthem on the front lawn.

A daytime glimpse of all the "lovely" lawn ornaments during setup:Sparky's House during a snowy December evening:

Brings whole new meaning to the question "Is your house on fire?"

Happy Holidays.

Love, The Trahans

The Edge and The Batmobile

When I graduated from college, I wanted just three things in a car. It had to get me from point a to point b. It had to be reliable. And, it had to be affordable. And so, I bought my Civic, "The Edge". Dubbed after one of my favorite bands because it made me feel young and edgy. Sad, I know. But, it was my first car, and it had a spoiler. And, it was a giant step up from "Herbie", the Hyundai Excel come go-cart that I drove in college.When I bought "The Edge", for under $20,000, I hoped to have him for 10 years. Maybe even 15. Heck, at one point I thought I would have it until my kids learned to drive (the dealer may have oversold the longevity piece to me, that or I was naive). And, my beloved car delivered on all counts. Just shy of 10 years old, 170,000 miles, "The Edge" (renamed "Lightening" by Mikie) has gone on to the parking lot in the sky. As his final act, he not only kept my husband safe, he also brought us more money towards a new car than he would have had we traded him into a greedy car dealer.

And so, Mike finally got a new car, as a belated birthday gift. Not exactly what he wanted (cost of school/daycare for two kids makes the $650/month car payment for a BMW unrealistic). But, it met our new requirements: all wheel drive (given the harsh winters and steep driveway), fuel efficient (given Mike's 60 mile commute), and capable of fitting a family of four when "Rocket" (my SUV) is in for service. The winner: a Subaru Impreza.We struggled looking for just the right name for the new car. I was partial to "DJ" or "Boost", since it reminded me of the cars that drive "Mack" off the road in the movie "Cars". Mikie suggested "Cheese Mobile" or "Mouse Mobile" since it was gray and reminded him of a mouse. But, after his test-drive, Mikie thought "Batmobile" was more appropriate.God help me when this kid can actually drive. . .

Love, The Trahans

McDonald's Mania

What is the lure of the McDonald's playland? Like moths to light, children are attracted to the McDonald's playland. This is especially problematic in my house because I don't like McDonald's food. Abhor it. I will eat one of only five things off their menu:

1. Fruit & Yogurt Parfait
2. Fruit & Walnut Salad
3. French Fries
4. Orange Juice
5. Coke

We recently traveled to visit friends in New York. In spite of eating before we left, I was hungry. With no rest stops in site, we pulled off at the next exit and stopped at McDonald's. Assuming that Mikie would want a kid's meal the minute we rolled down the window to order, I asked him if he wanted anything to eat. Mistake. . .

Unfortunately, Mikie noticed the playland as we pulled into the drive-thru lane. So, his response was "I want to eat inside and play in the playland." When we informed him we weren't stopping to eat inside, he said, "Okay, then I just want to play in the playland."

Obviously, he didn't react well when we made him understand that we weren't stopping. To avoid another 90 minutes of hysterics, I promised we would stop on the way home.

That's how we ended up spending forty-five minutes at the McDonald's in Southington Connecticut. And, Mikie wasn't the only one who enjoyed himself. At eight months old, Hannah already realized the appeal of McDonald's playland.

Hannah, mesmerized by the possibilities.Mikie, disappointed that Hannah can't climb the treehouse with him.Dancing contentedly.Living vicariously through brother.

If only they got so enthusiastic about dinner at home. Maybe I need to give out toys with dinner and install a treehouse and slide in the living room. . .

Love, The Trahans

Trick or Treat

I recognize that as soon as Hannah can talk, she will be as opinionated as her brother. Honestly, at the rate she is going, she may be more so. As Mikie demands what he wants to be for Halloween in June, so, I'm sure, will Hannah. And, if she is like every other girl I see on Halloween, I'm sure she will want to be Dora the Explorer, Jasmine, Belle, or some other random Disney Princess.

So, I took this as the only opportunity I will have to dress her in a costume of my choosing. Since Mike and Mikie dressed in theme last year, I thought it only fitting to continue the tradition. So, with Mikie dressed as Luke Skywalker, and Mike dressed as his father, Lord Vader, Hannah needed a Star Wars costume too. The obvious choice would have been Leia, but look at how creepy the costume is:While I know she may despise me when she's older for not dressing her as a butterfly or something cute and girly, I didn't need to give her more fuel for the fire. The baby wig is just plain creepy. So, we decided on the cutest thing in the Star Wars movies: an Ewok. The boys were in love with the idea. And, although, Mikie was disappointed her costume didn't come with a spear or other weapon, Hannah seemed to enjoy her fuzzy duds.I wonder if we can find an equally appropriate theme next year. Jessie, Woody, & Andy? Sandy, Spongebob & Patrick? Somehow, I think we will end up with Mikie as the action hero of the moment and Hannah as a princess. But, we'll see. Happy Belated Halloween!

Love, The Trahans

Car Talk

Another entertaining conversation from Mikie during a typical car ride home from school. . .

Mikie: "Mom, I'm still a picky eater."

Mom: puzzled... "Who told you that?"

Mikie: "No one."

Mom: "Then why do you think you're a picky eater?"

Mikie: "Because I just know."

Mom: "Well, how do you know."

Mikie: "Because I still pick my nose. . . "

Gross! I love the implication.

Love, The Trahans

Gourmet Cuisine

On Wednesday, I went to the grocery store to pick up more baby food for Hannah. I was looking for more interesting blends that don't include strawberries (because I don't need another child with hives). And there, on the shelf, I noticed this:Yes, veal for babies. Let's ignore the fact that many people think veal is inhumane. I personally don't care for it. The one time I had veal, I found it to be very tough. I just don't understand who is buying veal for their infant. Are their taste buds really that refined that they notice a difference between veal and beef? I mean, the meat baby foods all basically look and smell like cat food. I couldn't even bring myself to subject Hannah to them until the doctor said I could buy the ones blended with other stuff (chicken and rice, beef and vegetables, etc.). So, who in their right mind is buying these tiny jars of veal? And, what's next. . . lobster? Caviar?

Love, The Trahans

The Dancing Trahans

There isn't anything to say about this video. It is, as the title of this post states, video of the Trahans dancing. Or, three of the four of us (Mike capturing the video in all its chaos). We started by videoing Hannah making silly noises. Then Mikie wanted us to video him being Mikie (which was a combination of bouncing, playing leap frog from the furniture to the trampoline, and dancing). Somehow, Mike ended up breaking out the iPod, and we all started dancing to Scooby Doo.

It is cute to see Hannah dancing and giggling to Mikie's moves.

Love, The Trahans

The Blob

Hannah is a little blob. A cute blob, but a blob none the less. At eight months, she has made no attempt to crawl. She is content to sit where she is and enjoy being doted on. And, unfortunately (due to her cuteness and generally pleasant disposition), EVERYONE dotes on her. We bring her toys, food, coddle her when she makes a sad face. It isn't just Mike, Mikie and I who are guilty. Daycare workers, even the other babies in her class. Hannah sits in one place, and I watch the other kids crawl or walk over to her. Someone takes her toy; Hannah looks sad, and either the other child gives it back or the teacher comes to her rescue.

Of course, I end up feeling like a jerk when I don't jump to attention. Because I have to get two kids ready for school each morning (in addition to attempting to make myself look presentable), I have to leave them to play. Some mornings, Hannah has no issue playing with her toys (or watching Mikie play with her toys). However, if she sees me look over at her, the sad face appears, followed shortly thereafter by sobs implying "How could you abandon me, leaving me with this crazy kid?"Forget trying to encourage her to crawl. Lay her on her stomach, and the sobs are accompanied by the pathetic head-into-the-carpet move. "Don't worry. . . I'll be okay. . . I'm sure I won't suffocate even though I can't move and seem to have forgotten to turn my head to the side so I can breath without swallowing carpet fibers." If only she hadn't inherited Mikie's flair for the dramatic. . .

Since encouraging her to crawl appears futile, I try to encourage the one activity she loves. . . walking. She hasn't mastered her footwork and frequently steps on her own feet (she inherited my grace too). Here is a video of Hannah walking to Mike. Before we grabbed the camera, she looked like a pirate, moving one leg and dragging the second behind. After we turned on the camera, she started lifting both legs, in a homage to the tango.

My apologies to my parents, grandparents, aunts and uncles. Only now do I realize how much back pain you must have suffered in an effort to keep me happy. If I didn't fear for her life as it is, I would teach Mikie how to help her walk.

Love, The Trahans

Where is Thumbkin?

We must be the most juvenile parents ever. Mikie came home from school the other week and sang a new song he learned in music class. Every kid learns it: "Where is Thumbkin?" Because we are thirty going on thirteen (or maybe we have too much stress in our lives), Mike and I nearly peed our pants watching Mikie sing this song. I couldn't imagine the music teacher keeping a straight face while eighteen kids waved their middle fingers gleefully in her face. So, we did what any responsible parent would do. We made him sing it two more times until we got a decent video of it for him to enjoy when he is thirty. Other than watching the effort and concentration put into making sure he has the right fingers up, my favorite part is the shout out to Auntie Katie at the end.

Yes, little things amuse me. . .

Love, The Trahans

Tiny Dancer

At daycare, they have a little ballet barre and mirror for the babies in Hannah's class to use to pull themselves up on. And, in Hannah's case, make smiley faces at each other. Hannah LOVES to stand at the barre and smile proudly to anyone who will pay attention, a look that says "Look at me, I can stand by myself. And I'm cute too!"

So, I couldn't help myself when I saw these tutus at Carter's this weekend. Unfortunately, I couldn't find the shirt I intended her to wear with it. So, the outfit may look more reminiscent of Sarah Jessica Parker in "Girls Just Wanna Have Fun" than prima ballerina from Julliard. Of course, I've seen women wearing leg warmers and side ponytails recently, along with stirrup pants at Walmart. If the 80s is making a comeback, maybe she is right on trend.

Love, The Trahans

The Three Little Pigs Revisited

Every evening, I ask Mikie what he did at school that day. At five, he already wants to volunteer as little about his life as possible. Begrudgingly, he volunteers five things. Well, volunteers in that he can't watch cartoons until he tells me five things he did. . .

Today, the first story he told me was how they read "The Three Little Pigs". Afterwards, they all made houses that were as strong as they could make it.

Mom: "So, what did you design your house out of?"

Mikie: "Hot lava!"

Mom: confused "No, I mean, one pig built his house of straw, another used twigs. . ."

Mikie: "Yeah, but we didn't have to use the same stuff. We could use ANYTHING."

Mom: "So you used hot lava."

Mikie: "Yeah."

Mom: "But why would you use lava."

Mikie: "Well, I thought about using logs tied together with vines. But than I decided to use lava. Because it's so hot, it's on fire. The wolf won't ever be able to get in the house because he would burn on fire!"

Mom: unable to argue with the logic. . . "But, if the house is made of lava, how would you get inside?"

Mikie: "Through the secret door. It's just a regular door NOT made of lava, but it's hidden in the back. And, you can only open it if you say the secret password. Do you want to know what the secret password is?"

Mom: "Sure, what?"

Mikie: "Open sesame."

Original. Even more amusing than his logic was watching Mike trying to rationalize with Mikie when we retold the story.

Mike: "Mikie, why didn't you use steel, or concrete."

Mom: "Don't try. I already went there. You can't argue with the logic. The wolf wouldn't be able to get in."

Mike: "Mikie, what did the other kids build their houses with."

Mikie: "Lots of stuff. Chris used lava too."

I can't wait until Mikie's in college and they are arguing/debating over Thanksgiving Dinner about some new design project Mikie is working on. . .

Love, The Trahans

Snow Bunny

As the "signs of fall are all around " (to quote Trouble) and the thermometer is dropping, it is time to break out the jackets and hats. Especially if you are tiny with a newly developing immune system.

So, Nibbles and I went to Old Navy in search of a fleece jacket for her afternoon walks. Jacket selection was slim, but this hat made the trip worth while:

Maybe I'm biased. . . I didn't think it was possible to make this face any cuter, until I put this hat on her head.

While I'm bragging about how cute she is, we entered Hannah in the Gap Casting Call. She can win a $1,000 gift card or a vacation. If you want to vote for her, click here.

Love, The Trahans

May the Force Be With You

Halloween is fast approaching. And, being that Mikie is obsessed with Star Wars, he insisted on being "Luke Skywalker". More specifically, Luke Skywalker in his flight costume with a blue lightsaber (or lightsaVer as Mikie calls it). Anticipating that Mike would decide he needed to get dressed up to take the kids trick-or-treating, I ordered him a costume also. Mike is going to be Darth Vader (taking the "Luke, I am your father" line to a whole new level). And, to finish out the Star Wars theme, Hannah is going to be an Ewok.

While I have had concerns that Hannah will despise me when she is older because I made her an Ewok instead of a Princess, I am now concerned that she would rather have been a Jedi like her brother:Mikie wanted someone to place Star Wars with, and he got his wish. Unfortunately, the lightsaber is bigger than she is, so it makes it difficult for her to "fight back". And, since Mikie has a fight scene choreographed in his head that includes pulling out your lightsaber and flicking it open, playtime included a lot of panic attacks on my part.

Days later, Mikie wanted to know if Hannah's costume came with a stick like in the movie. I told him, "No, and we aren't going to get her one either. She's just a baby." His response (in true Mikie fashion), "Well, we can get her a little gun instead." The kid has an answer for everything. . .

Love, The Trahans

Lady's Man

It's fall, and with the changing seasons comes our battle with croup. Last season, our pediatrician was kind enough to give us some prednisone to give him if he comes down with it at night to prevent having to go to the ER. So, when Mikie came home barking like a seal yesterday, we tried to give him the steroid. Unfortunately, he had such a bad outbreak that we drove to the ER anyway.

After a long night in the ER, Mike agreed to stay home with Trouble while I went to work to "relax" (note the sarcasm).

At lunch time, Mike called to let me know how the patient was doing. Instead of "hello", he started the conversation with "Your son is such a flirt." Yeah, cause he gets that from me. . . I naively ask, "Why, what did he do now?" convinced the answer would have something to do with a girl in the waiting room. The real answer: "He asked the doctor for her phone number and then invited her to his birthday party."

Someone should tell Hannah because he told her he was going to marry her when he grows up.

Love, The Trahans

Mommy's Little Helper

Cuteness alert. Hannah helped me do laundry recently. Somehow, I kept her from eating/drooling on Mikie's pajamas. Instead, she decided to show me her newest trick. . . Peek-a-boo. Cutest video ever.

Love, The Trahans

Moving Away

Mikie frequently threatens to "move to a different neighborhood." So, Mike was not surprised when Mikie got mad and threatened to move away. . .

Mikie: "I'm going to move to a different neighborhood."

Mike: "How are you going to get there."

Mikie: "I'll call a taxi."

Note: the irony here is that we don't have taxis near our house.

Mike: "Do you know the phone number?"

Mikie: "Yeah."

Mike: "What is it?"

Mikie: "Well, I'm not going to tell you!"

Mike: "What are you going to wear for clothes?"

Mikie: "I'm going to wear MY clothes."

Mike: "So you're going to take those with you?"

Mikie: "Yeah, I'm going to take my drawers. I'm going to take ALL my clothes. And, I'm going to take all my toys too."

Mike: "Well, then you better get a U-Haul instead of a taxi."

The logic here is priceless. I don't know which one of them was worse.

Love, The Trahans