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

Modesty Thy Name Is Mikie

This morning, Mikie was looking awfully cute in his Bruins hat and new t-shirt. He is known for his amusing shirts at school.

As he came down the stairs, I laughed and said to him, "Mikie, you're so cute." To which Mikie responded, "And I'm smart too."

Obviously, we can rest assured that we are doing a good job with positive reinforcement. Of course, if his ego gets any bigger, he might not be able to fit his head in that hat anymore.

He must get this from his father, because everyone knows that I am the image of humility. . . and I'm smart too.

Love, The Trahans

Dinner Conversation

Usually, our dinner conversation is pretty mundane. Mike and I try and get Mikie to tell us what he did at school, usually to no avail. And, since Mike had turned the Bruins game on, I wasn't expecting much conversation this evening either. Boy, was I in for a surprise.

Mikie had just finished watching a Scooby Doo cartoon where the gang were at a wrestling arena. After it was over, he showed me his "wrestling moves" and was trying to convince me to wrestle him. Luckily, Mike came home, so we postponed wrestling until after dinner. However, as you can tell from the conversation below, wrestling was still on his mind. . .

Mikie: "Mom, I want to go to the wrestling place."

Mom: "Mommy doesn't want you to go because what if you get boo-boos?"

Mikie: "I won't get boo-boos at MY wrestling place."

Mom: "Where is this wrestling place?"

Mikie: "It's all the way at the end of the earth."

Mom: "How do we get there?"

Mikie: "You go over the water. . . then over the OTHER water. . . then past the COWBOY place. . . and past the HOCKEY place. . . then all the way to the wrestling place."

Mom: "How are we going to get there if we have to go over the water?"

Mikie: "You need to drive something that floats."

Mom: "What do we take when we go past the cowboy place?"

Mikie: "Then you drive a car all the way to the wrestling place."

Mom: "Where are we going to get something that floats?"

Mikie: "We need a big boat. We can get a big boat from my HOUSE."

Mom: looking around "This is YOUR house, right?"

Mikie: "Yeah."

Mom: "Where do you think we're hiding a big boat?"

Mikie: "It's hiding under our grass. We have to dig for it."

Mom: "Using a shovel?"

Mikie: scratching at the air "No, we have to dig for it using our HANDS."

At this point, Mike is scribbling frantically to capture the whole dialogue, and I am about to turn blue trying to fight back laughter. Luckily, Mikie didn't notice and continued his explanation of the hunt for the big boat. . .

Mikie: "How are we going to break this earth?"

Mom: "I still think we could use shovels."

Mikie: "No. We're going to have to lift this house up."

Mom: "Who has muscles strong enough to lift this house? Are your muscles strong enough?"

Mikie: "No."

Mom: "So who's going to lift this house?"

Mikie: "You and Daddy."

Mom: "My muscles can barely lift you!"

Mikie: "Can they lift a house?"

Of course! I mean, I can't lift a child weighing 40-lbs, but I'm sure I can lift a two story house!

There was only one way to answer that question and put an end to the conversation. . .

Mom: "I don't know, but we can go outside and try after we finish our dinner."

Just in case you were wondering, I was NOT able to lift the house (I know, and I look so strong). So, we are going to have to find alternate means of procuring a boat.

Love, The Trahans

Ice Skating

Mikie has become quite the skater. As you can see in the video, he skates all by himself now. This makes skating much easier on Mike's back and mine.

Unfortunately, I think all the hockey games he has seen are having a bad influence on him. Last week, he was one of three kids who showed up for the ice skating class:

Charlie is younger than Mikie. He can actually "glide", versus Mikie who still shuffles his feet. But, he lacks some confidence, so he tends to just stand in one place a lot. Of course, he also wears a hockey helmet, complete with cage, that seems a bit too big (I don't know how well he can see with it resting on his shoulders).

Ernie (not his real name, but he wears a Sesame Street bike helmet every week) can't stand on his skates to save his life. This drives his mother crazy (she has literally yelled at him "Come on, this is the fourth lesson, you should be able to do this!")

But I digress. Back to the story. Mikie looked like Apollo Anton Ohno in comparison to the other two boys. By no means was he going fast, he just made it across the ice before the other two even moved. Unfortunately for Charlie and Ernie, Mikie seemed to realize his superiority on skates and skated up to the other two and told them to follow him. I'm sure the teacher must have felt really good about this at the time, being that she had been trying to get all three of them to listen to her. . .

As if that wasn't bad enough, Mikie went over to Charlie, grabbed him by the cage of his helmet, pulled his face right up to his and said "Skate!"
We did tell him (without laughing) that it isn't nice to boss around the other kids. Or grab them by their helmets. Real hockey players have to go in time out for that.

Somehow, I fear that his future as a hockey player may include a fair amount of time in the penalty box. . .

Go Bruins.

Love, The Trahans

Simple Pleasures

It's a bird. . . it's a plane. . . no, it's a SPACE MONKEY!!!

It's amazing what amuses kids. The owner of the daycare recently told me that he felt justified in increasing the tuition by "purchasing" some new toys for the kids. . .

Mikie's toy monkey (aka, the daycare monkey that he adopted a few months ago) now has his own space suit to better equip him for his adventures in space.
As you can see, Space Monkey has his own "helmet" (plastic cup with drawn on smiley face) and "jet pack" (cut up toilet paper roll secured to waist with a rubber band). I am not sure if it could withstand a solar flare, but it seems to hold up against the pommelling of an adoring three year old.

If only I had known in December that a cup, toilet paper roll, and rubber band would amuse my son more than any other toy, I could have saved a lot of money.

Love, The Trahans

Snakes & Snails

Remember the old saying:

Snakes and Snails and Puppy Dogs Tails
That's what little boys are made of.

Boy, were they right. Once again, we sent Mikie off to school looking clean and handsome. Appropriately, he was wearing his "Big Trouble Comes In Small Packages" shirt (which amuses all the staff at daycare).

I think that my child has some magnetic attraction for dirt. The little girls may have toussled hair, but their white stockings are still white, and their faces pristine. Even the other boys look more tidy than Mikie by 5pm. This evening, Mikie took dirty to a new level. The soles of his socks were covered in dirt and wood chips (how this is possible when his shoes were on his feet is a mystery). His hands looked like they had been dipped in dirt: dirt covering the backs and palms, clinging into ever crease and fold, embedded deep under his nails. His face gave new meaning to "five o'clock shadow": the makings of a dirt beard and moustache surrounding his mouth. And, to complete the look: a runny nose.

His teacher's response: "At least you know he had fun."

With Mikie, I never need to worry that he isn't having fun. What I need to worry about is my water bill, as I have to repeatedly wash him and his clothes multiple times a day.

Love, The Trahans

Shopping

Last night, Mikie and I drove to Ann Taylor Loft after work. I had to exchange a shirt from my mom, and didn't want to wait any longer as it had been almost 3 months since she bought it for me.

As we got out of the car, I knew we were in for an adventure. As per his usual, Mikie managed to get himself as disgusting as possible at school. In spite of his cute attire (striped polo shirt and khaki pants), his hair was sticking out in many directions. His face had a mysterious brown substance on it (still not sure if it was chocolate pudding or mud). And, his hands were sticky from grabbing his partially consumed lolly pop by the wrong end.

Before entering the store, I told him "Don't touch anything in here." The last thing I wanted was to be forced to buy a pair of white trousers with sticky brown substance on them, that, with my luck, wouldn't even be my size.

He played with his new helicopter on the floor while we waited in line to make the return. Of course, the ever helpful sales girl asked if I would prefer to pick something else out as an exchange rather than ringing up the store credit. Looking at Mikie (who at this point was landing the helicopter onto the display of sunglasses), I told her we would attempt to shop, but that I wanted the store credit now in case we needed to make a quick exit.

Mikie dutifully followed me through the store as I looked for new clothes. Always vain, he loved the big mirrors mounted randomly throughout the store. Similar to his Auntie Katie, he derived pleasure hiding between the racks of pants in the clearance section. At one point, I looked back to find him standing in the middle of the store, holding a mannequin's hand, looking up curiously at the space where it's head should be. I kept calling his name, telling him to come help me, to no avail. He finally turned to me and yelled across the store:

Mikie: "Mom, none of these people have heads."

Mom: "I know."

Mikie: "I think they all got shooted off."

Mom: "No, I think they never had heads in the first place."

I quickly distracted him by pointing out a really big mirror, before dragging him off to the dressing room so I could try on my selections.

As we entered the dressing room, I told Mikie I needed him to tell me what looked pretty. As he sat down on the bench, he looked at his clothes and said:

Mikie: "These pants fit pretty great. I should wear them every day. And my shirt matches too."

Not exactly what I meant, but I guess I should have been more clear. As I tried on clothes, Mr. Vanity inspected his reflection in the mirror. Until he heard voices coming from another dressing room. At which point, he sat on the floor, trying to look out the door. Of course, I banished him to the corner so he couldn't look at other people changing (luckily, the walls run straight to the floor). At this point, he found a "hockey puck" (aka, button) which provided endless amounts of amusement while I continued to play dress-up.

All things considered, he was pretty well behaved. I don't think the young, pert, petite sales girl who obviously had no children of her own appreciated him much. But, with the exception of a mannequin's hand and the button he stole, he didn't touch anything.

Happy shopping.

Love, The Trahans

Boys vs. Girls

Last week, before leaving for work, I told Mikie that we both needed to use the bathroom before leaving for work. A lot of times, he insists that he doesn't need to go, only to make me pull over half way to work because he has to "go pee-pee on the road". When I make it a rule that both of us need to follow, he seems to be more receptive.

So, I stood in line, waiting my turn to use the bathroom as Mikie went in and started to pee. He looked back at me and said "Come on, Mom. You can go too."

Alas, I had to explain that, unlike Daddy, I could not pee standing up. The girls have to sit down to use the potty. Of course, that warranted the standard "Why?" I explained that girls don't have penises, only boys do, all the while praying that he would not ask "Why" again.

Thankfully, he seemed content knowing he was special, and let me use the bathroom in peace. And, more importantly, forestalling the involved conversation of anatomy for a time when he is (hopefully) much older.

Love, The Trahans

Mikie-isms

When my child became such a smart alec, I don't know. He must get it from his father.

Mikie came out of the bathroom this evening, and I knew he hadn't flushed the toilet or washed his hands. I told him to turn around, go back into the bathroom, and wash his hands. Obviously, I must have been speaking in toungues, because Mikie didn't listen (what else is new). So, I pulled the ultimate threat: you have until the count of five to go back and wash your hands or you're going to bed right now. Usually, this works. This time, Mikie turned with a smirk on his face and yelled "One Two Three Four Five!"

After taking a minute to compose myself (I was trying not to laugh hysterically), I started counting. As soon as I said one, Mikie did run to the bathroom and wash his hands. Of course, when I went in to use the bathroom later, I found the seat up and the toilet bowl full of urine. I guess it was my own fault, since I didn't instruct him to flush the toilet or close the seat. Hindsight is twenty-twenty.

As if that wasn't funny enough, Mikie came up with a new reason not to go to sleep tonight. Mike had put him to bed, and 30 minutes later, I heard a door open. I went to the bottom of the stairs, and heard a little voice, sitting at the top of the stairs say "Hi, mom". When I got upstairs, Mikie looked up at me and said "Mom, I can't sleep." Before I could ask why, he said "If I keep sleeping all the time, I will turn into a bed." He should write a book of all the bedtime excuses he has come up with.

After explaining that your body needs sleep to build muscles and brain cells, he told me he wanted to sleep so he could be strong like a real hockey player. I am sure that won't work ever again, but at least he went to sleep tonight.

I can't wait to see what he comes up with tomorrow. . .

Love, The Trahans

The Favorite Toy

This weekend is Mikie's friend, Connor's, birthday party. Mike, being a male, insisted on doing the shopping because he "knows boys" better than I do. Forget the fact that I work with Connor's dad, talk with Connor's mom most mornings at daycare, and see Connor when I drop Mikie off in the morning. Not to mention I did give birth to a boy. None of this qualifies me for shopping for little boys.

So, Mike purchased two Transformers. Mikie was asleep when the shopping trip occurred, so he did not see what we bought. And, knowing that he likes Transformers (and most action figures), we didn't bother telling him what we bought.

Fast forward to this morning. I was trying to convince Mikie into putting on his jacket and leaving for school with me. He told me he had a new toy that was his favorite that he wanted to bring to school. The conversation continued like this:

Mikie: "Mom, I'm going to bring my new favorite toy to school because it's my favorite."

Mom: "What is it?"

Mikie: "It's my favorite 'cause its the best"

Mom: "Where is it so we can get it and leave for school."

Mikie: "It's my red Transformer."

Now, I am confused, because I know of only two Transformers that we own: a black one, and a cement mixer that Mike found from when he was a kid that, as far as I can tell, is not red. And so the conversation continues:

Mom: "You don't have a red Transformer."

Mikie: "Yes I do."

Mom: "Where is it?"

Mikie: "It's my red Transformer Car in your closet."

Okay, it's 7:30 in the morning, and my brain isn't completely awake. But, after a few seconds, I realize that he is talking about the birthday present for Connor that is hidden in my closet.

Mom: "Mikie, those aren't your cars. We bought those for Connor's birthday party. (Quickly realizing this could spoil any surprise. . . ) And it's a SURPRISE so you CAN'T tell him."

Mikie: whining "But I want them."

Somehow, I got his coat on him and forced him out the door. There may have been some vague promise about getting him a Transformer on another day. To which he responded, "Then I will have TWO red Transformer cars."

Note to self: put a keyed lock on the attic door before Christmas.

Love, The Trahans

SUGAR!!!!!

Different states have different festivities they are known for. In DC, April is the month of the Cherry Blossoms. In Massachusetts, March is Sugaring month.

Sugaring is the process of collecting and making maple syrup. And, after going to a sugar house this weekend, I have a renewed sense of appreciation for maple syrup.

To create maple syrup, you start with a maple tree. Evidently, you can use any maple tree, not just a sugar maple. At night, when the temperature drops, the sap freezes inside the trunk of the tree. During the day when the temperatures rise, the sap condenses and creates a presure inside the tree. If you tap the maple tree, you can collect the sap and use it to make maple syrup, and other yummy maple confections.

Sounds easy enough. But, it is the most labor intensive process. First of all, the sap doesn't exactly "flow" out of the tree. I would describe it as a faucet that has a slow drip when it is in the off position. Plus, because harvesting it is so temperature dependent, there are only about 4 weeks when you can harvest the sap. And, 100 gallons of sap only yields about 2 gallons of syrup!

The tour was very entertaining, even without Mikie's antics. The video included clips of adults and kids who run sugar houses. The first woman on the clip announced "Massachusetts is THE place for maple syrup. I mean, I know Vermont and New Hampshire make it too, but when I think of syrup, I think of Massachusetts." Ironic, since Vermont is the number one producer of maple syrup in the US with 250,000 gallons, followed by New York. Massachusetts produces less than 100,000 gallons annually. There were also some young men (12 going on 40) who produce about 2 gallons of maple syrup each season, but have long term plans to "take a few years off to relax, and then open some more sugar houses when they hit 20 or 30."

While the adults in the group (Mike, myself, and our friends, Josh & Kristin) enjoyed the tour and explanations of the process, Mikie was less enthusiastic. Before the 18 minute video, Mikie raised his hand to tell the guide that he saw flies in the barn window. At the end of the video, he told the same guide that he wanted popcorn (which was even more amusing since he had never eaten popcorn before). We convinced him to continue on the tour with us with the promise of maple sugar candy at the end.

In the next stage, where we learned how to drill and tap a tree. Mikie was more interested in the ladybug he found on the floor. He kept pointing to the ladybug, before finally determining (and announcing loudly enough for the whole room to hear) "This ladybug is DEAD, Mom."

Finally, we got to the kid friendly part, the tapping of the tree. Mikie was thrilled to join the bigger kids and use the hand drill. And, he was very careful to use the hammer to hit the tap, not the man holding it in place. He was even careful carrying his bucket of sap to the sugar house. However, after dumping the sap into the main tank of the sugar house, he was officially done with the tour. He put his bucket on his head, which left him a bit sugar coated. By the time we finished and were offered our maple sugar confections, Mikie announced that he wanted chocolate instead.

We left with some sugaring supplies: a tap and a helmet for Mikie, which doubles as a bucket to collect sap in when Mikie is willing to part with it.

The moral of the story: if you're three, maple syrup is better enjoyed at home on pancakes than in the woods.

Love, The Trahans

Life as a Hockey Mom

We have been taking Mikie ice skating for a while now. He is actually on his second pair of ice skates (although, it is purely because his feet grow too fast, not because he wore them out). After only a few time on the ice, we are able to loosely hold one hand and skate beside him while he walks in his skates. His biggest desire: to play hockey like a real hockey player, on ice skates, with a stick. And, while they do offer an intro to ice hockey class for kids three and up, you have to complete one of the learn to skate classes first.

How could I deny a three year old's dream? I couldn't. So, I searched every ice skating rink in the states of Massachusetts, Connecticut, and Rhode Island until I found the ONE and only rink that offered the learn to skate class for three year olds on the weekend (evidently, most hockey moms do not work and can take their kids ice skating at 11am on a Tuesday).

Luckily for Mike and I, the rink is only 45 minutes away. And, since they had a 10am class, we only have to wake up by 7:30am to get ready and get to class in time. Barring snow storms.

The first weekend, Mike got up, cleared the driveway of about a foot of snow, and we drove to class. Unfortunately, we got there only to find out that class didn't start until the following Saturday (something which should have been clarified in the registration paperwork).

The second weekend, Mike got up, cleared TWO driveways (ours and our neighbor who's husband was out of town and had just had surgery on her hand) of about six inches of snow. We drove to class in horrendous conditions (it was still snowing and the plows really weren't running yet) for a 25 minute lesson. If that isn't dedication, I don't know what is.

The class is quite entertaining. The first lesson was quite a challenge. The teacher made all the kids sit on the ice. Then, they had to sit on their knees. From there, they all put one leg up, and pushed off the ice into a standing position. If you're three, listening and following directions are challenging enough. Because he couldn't get himself back up, Mikie grabbed the teacher's hand for a lift. Unfortunately, once he had it, he was slow to let go.
By the end of the second lesson, Mikie managed to push himself up after falling, and took steps unassisted on the ice.

The verdict is still out if the 25 minutes of ice time is worth the money and the mileage. Hopefully, seeing his face when he gets out on the ice with a hockey stick will make it all worth while.

Love, The Trahans

The Distinguished Gentleman

Lately, Mikie has been obsessed with Scooby Doo. We have some Scooby Doo books. We make up pretend Scooby Doo adventures to solve the mystery. We have a Scooby Doo video game for our V-Smile. And, of course, we have some Scooby Doo movies.

When I picked up Mikie on Friday afternoon, he had been sharing his Scooby Doo book, and telling everyone that they could come to his house to watch his Scooby Doo movie. Before I left, his teacher came over to tell me an amusing Mikie anecdote. Evidently, Mikie told Ms. Kelly that she could drive home with him and watch Scooby Doo on the TVs in his car. She said thank you, but asked him how she was going to get back to her house if she drove home with him. His answer, "You can walk."

Knight in shining armour he is not.

Love, The Trahans

March Snow

Evidently, March snow is much better than other snow. We got about 8 inches on March 1st. After returning from Mikie's first ice skating lesson, Mike and Mikie decided to build a snowman. Since losing a boot in the two-foot snowstorm we had in December, Mikie has not been keen to do anything other than eat snow. So, I didn't expect them to be outside long. However, after finishing Frosty, Mikie decided that he wanted to go sledding. And, the sled run looked so much fun, Mike and I took turns sledding too. Click on the photo below to see some of the video:

Here is a picture of Mike and Mikie with Frosty. Without any carrots or coal on hand, we had to improvise, using a piece of candy cane for the nose and chocolate pieces for the eyes. If you click on the photo, you can view some video of the "construction".

While I admired their work, Mikie came over to tell me "the secret".

Mikie: "Mom, I have a secret, but you can't tell the snowman. He's going to melt."

He did last for a week, before the snow started to melt. Although, evidently other animals than Mikie like chocolate and candy canes, because the snowman was missing his eyes and nose by the next evening.

Happy sledding.

Love, The Trahans

Duck. . . Duck. . .

When I dropped Mikie off at daycare last week, the kids were playing Duck, Duck, Goose. I don't know if Mikie had ever played before, but it had all the elements to become his new favorite game: tapping/hitting people on the head, running, throwing oneself on the floor.

Later that night, Mikie told Mike all about this new game. As with most games, Mikie wanted us to play. I wish our camcorder was working, because I don't know that I can do it justice describing the scene. Imagine Mike and I sitting in a "circle" (translation: sitting across from each other). Mikie walked around us, patting us on the head in turn saying "Duck. . . Duck. . . Duck. . . Duck. . . Goose". We would get up and chase him around the "circle" (translation: the sole person remaining in a seated position), until he decided to sit down.

During the third or fourth round of Duck, Duck, Goose, Mike was the "ducker". Mikie looked like he was going to pee his pants with anticipation over who Mike would pick. From that moment on, he started squealing "GOOSE ME, DAD!" everytime Mike was the ducker.

It brings a whole new meaning to the game. . .

Love, The Trahans