Grumpy

Earlier this month, Mikie had his first homework assignment: to make a family tree. It was ironic that it was a family tree, since it was a family undertaking to do the homework assignment. Mikie brought home a tree that he colored, and some blank acorns. Our job was to help him write out, color, cut, and paste the acorns onto the tree.

We asked Mikie who needed acorns: Mom, Dad, Mikie, and "The Baby". We then talked about who was mom's mom (Grandma Pookie) and dad (Grand Da) versus dad's mom and dad. We filled out all the acorns, and Mikie glued them onto the tree.At the end of the week, all of the kids brought their family trees into class to present them. Since Mikie and I arrived at school before his teacher, I wasn't sure where to turn in his assignment. So, I left it in his cubby, and told him to tell Ms. Kelly where it was.

When I returned at the end of the day, I asked Ms. Kelly if she found Mikie's family tree. She said yes, and that he told the class all about his family. Then she asked me something amusing:

Ms. Kelly: "Is Grumpy a real person."

Mom: "Yes. It's Mike's mom's fiance, Norm. I think his grand kids called him Grumpy at one point, and the name stuck."

Ms. Kelly: "Oh, I wasn't sure. When I asked Mikie who Grumpy was, he said 'He's my friend I see at the beach who lets me make ice cream.'"

I laughed and explained that Norm owns a snack bar on a beach. That when we stop by to visit, Kerrie and Norm (like any good grandparents) spoil him rotten by letting him make his own ice cream.

Thanks to Grumpy, Mikie is the envy of most of the kids at school.

Love, The Trahans

ROARRR!!!

Let me preface this story by explaining that Mike is a fairly sound sleeper. You can try to wake him up and have a conversation with him, and although he may answer you, he is still asleep. In this sleep induced stupor, Mike has a tendency to either lift Mikie into our bed or go sleep in Mikie's room if Mikie wakes up with a bad dream. Now, I hate having a restless 4-year old kicking me in the back while I am trying to sleep (I can't imagine anyone who would enjoy being kicked while sleeping). And, since I am pregnant, I have been even more adamant about everyone sleeping in their own beds, because I cherish my sleep.

Try as I might to explain to Mikie that Dad is useless during the night, he doesn't always wake me up when he has a bad dream. This might be because he is considerate of the fact I need to sleep. Or, it could just be that Mike sleeps closer to the bedroom door. . .

Regardless, on Sunday night, Mikie had a bad dream. To hear Mike's side of the story, Mikie had woken up every hour from midnight on. I will admit, I slept through these earlier incidents. However, at 3am, I heard Mikie enter our bedroom. I vaguely heard him say something to Mike about trying to scare the monster that was in his room. I heard him ask Mike "Is that a good idea, Dad?" to which Mike responded "Yeah, sure, buddy."

Before I could react to what was going on, I was awoken by the sound of a lion in my hallway. Yes, my son was standing in the hall outside our bedroom yelling "ROARRRR!!!!" over and over again at the top of his lungs. And, in between each round of roars, you could hear him saying, "Can you hear me, Dad?" or "Is that good, Dad?"

After we all quieted down, Mikie ended up in our bed. Although, Mike didn't put him in the middle of the bed (I guess trying to spare my abdomen from kicking by both our children). And at 4am, I was awoken again, this time by a big "thud" when Mikie rolled out of bed. Thankfully he wasn't hurt. When I tried to talk to him in the morning about his bad night, he briefly mentioned a dragon in his room. But, his bigger issue was that the baby had pushed him out of the bed. Poor child, not even out of the womb and already being blamed for all of life's problems.

When he woke up on Monday night, I went in to comfort him. Because, somehow, when I wake up, Mikie sleeps through the night afterward.

Now if only I could get over my bad dream that I am being attacked by lions. . .

Love, The Trahans

How NOT to Do Laundry

For anyone who doesn't know how to do laundry, let me give you a little tip. The best way to wash your clothes is to make sure they are completely inside the washing machine before turning it on:Unfortunately, I did not realize my mistake until there were 9 minutes remaining on a double rinse cycle. Luckily, the high efficiency washer doesn't use a lot of water, and the floor is tiled, so the only damage incurred was that I have to wash the half clean/half dirty sock again.

On the plus side, if you are trying to AVOID doing laundry, the above technique works really well. I don't think Mike will allow me to use the washing machine unsupervised for at least a few weeks.

Love, The Trahans

My Husband, the Dork

After 12 years together, you would think this is information I already know. And, don't get me wrong, I am not exactly the "cool kid". However, I would have NEVER purchased this shirt for my son, not wanting to bring him down by his parents dorkiness:Yes, this shirt says "Jr. Mathletes". And, as if that wasn't bad enough, it is surrounded by the motto, "cuter than the sum of our parts". Granted, although I wouldn't have purchased it, I didn't exactly put up a fight to keep him from dressing our child in it. So, I guess I am equally as guilty.

Luckily, I don't think any of the kids in Mikie's class can read. Because, if they could, he might be shoved in a cubby. Of course, at his age, this might be fun (since I catch many kids sitting in their cubbies).

One day, he will see this picture and groan at what geeks he has for parents. By that time we can move on to humiliating child #2.

Love, The Trahans

Chemist in Training

Every few months, I have a Society of Cosmetic Chemists meeting after work. I am on the board, so I have to arrive at the meetings early for the board meeting. And, since Mikie is in daycare near work, we go to the meeting together, until Mike gets out of work to come pick him up.

Armed with Transformers, crackers, and milk, Mikie and I arrived at this months meeting at the Massachusetts College of Pharmacy. I was hoping that Mikie would play by himself in a corner while we conducted the board meeting, but he had other plans. He pulled up a chair at the table, and sat next to me hanging on every word that was said. At one point, he turned to me and said "Mom, I want to talk". To which I responded "It's not time for talking, it's time for listening."

Not being allowed to contribute, Mikie got up to explore the conference room. By this time, the caterer had arrived to set up food for the chapter meeting. Mikie sidled on over to where the caterer was working, to supervise. When I went to check on him, he was banging on the radiator, and explaining to the caterer that if you hit it, it "made music". Thankfully, Mike arrived minutes later, and Mikie went home.

When I got home, Mike informed me that after loading Mikie into the car, Mikie announced that he wanted to "stay with Lauren". Evidently, he finds my meetings extremely entertaining. Between this and coming to Crabtree on second shift to check on pilot batches with me, we may make a chemist out of him after all.

Love, The Trahans

Mother of the Year

A few nights ago, Mike and I were planning on going out to dinner with a vendor of mine. Unfortunately, our babysitter called to tell me she was sick. Faced with the prospect of cancelling or missing my adult evening out, I frantically started calling other sitters. Everyone seemed to have previous engagements (not surprising, since I was calling an hour before we were leaving). However, one girl in our neighborhood was kind enough to recommend another, until I found a sitter.

When we arrived at dinner, we were joking about our sitter situation. When I called him, Steve (the vendor) had been joking, "who cares that she's a pyromaniac, at least we can still go out". To which I responded "Who cares if the house burns down, I have insurance". As I was relaying this story to Mike, I realized that the house could burn down, since in my haste to cook dinner for Mikie and get out the door, I had absent mindedly left the oven on. Thankfully, I called the babysitter, who turned the oven off. But, I don't think they are going to give me that "Mother of the Year" award anytime soon.

Love, The Trahans

Thank You, Disney

I owe this next humiliating daycare experience to Disney, or more specifically, the makers of Ratatouille. . .

For two consecutive days, Mike and I sent Mikie to school with one of his favorite lunches: meatloaf, ketchup, and macaroni and cheese. Both days, Mikie came home with the entire contents of his lunch untouched. Not sure if they forgot to give him ketchup, or if he simply wasn't feeling well, I decided to talk to the teacher.

Mom: "Do you know why Mikie hasn't been eating his lunch?"

Ms. Kelly: "He says you told him there was rat poison in it."

Now, obviously I didn't tell him there was rat poison in his lunch. And, neither of us put rat poison in his lunch (two facts I'm pretty sure Ms. Kelly recognized without me telling her). Heck, we don't even OWN rat poison (since, thankfully, we don't appear to have any rats residing in our house). So, where did Mikie get this idea?

Yes, it can only come from the movie Ratatouille. Mikie had watched it earlier in the week, and before his career as a chef, Remy was the official "sniffer" of all the colony's food for rat poison. Add in Mikie's vivid imagination, and Mom has suddenly poisoned his lunch with rat poison.

Thankfully, the daycare knew me well enough NOT to call child services. In the interim, I have been trying to explain to Mikie that I didn't poison his food and that he shouldn't tell people I have.

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

Love, The Trahans

The Birthday Parties (Takes 3 & 4)

While I was praying to the porcelain gods (see Update below), Mike and Mikie drove to Providence for birthday party #3. Mikie had a good time playing with his cousins, ate plenty of "birthday brownie", and got a lot of nice gifts. Here are some pictures:

Mikie blows out the candles on his "birthday brownie".

Arcangelo entertains everyone with his party "hat".

Mikie enjoys opening his gifts.

Fast forward another week to the 20th and birthday party #4. After three parties, we had determined that Mikie likes brownies, not cake, unless it's ice cream cake, and even then, only if it's all chocolate. Feeling somewhat guilty that I missed birthday party #3, I spent two evenings making a custom chocolate/chocolate ice cream cake. And, not to pat myself on the back, but it came out pretty good. The party was nice and laid back. . . well, as laid back as a party with 7 kids under the age of 5 can be. Mike grilled hotdogs and hamburgers for everyone, and made macaroni and cheese for those of us that have a temporary aversion to meat. The weather was beautiful, and the kids had a good time playing on the swingset and playing baseball. Here are some of the pictures from party #4:

Mikie's custom ice cream cake.

Blowing out the candles before the cake melts.

Everyone enjoying the swingset.

All the kids help open the presents.

And so we managed to survive the month of parties. Thanks to everyone who came to celebrate and make Mikie's birthday special.

Love, The Trahans

Update

It's been two weeks since I last posted to the blog. During that time, the baby and I have had trouble sharing a body. Shortly after my last post, I became violently ill. Well, ill might not be the right word choice, since my "illness" is not viral or bacterial, but hormonal. By 4 in the morning, I decided I should go to the ER. Turns out, I have "Severe Nausea and Vomiting of Pregnancy". Yes, that is the medical term (I know, the guy who thought it up should get some award for creativity). After 48 hours of not being able to keep any food in my stomach, we earned a prescription for a really nice anti-nausea drug that makes life a little more palatable.

So, for the last two weeks, we have been trying to put on weight (since, after 17 weeks, we have netted 1 whole pound of weight gain). Not that you would realize that was all I had gained to look at the size of my stomach. I am somewhat convinced that one of us is losing weight while the other is gaining weight just fine. I also think one of us is stealing energy from the other, since I can barely stay awake all day, while someone likes to use my abdominal wall as a trampoline when I am trying to sleep.

Here are our most recent pictures: Baby Trahan at 15 weeks:Mom at 17 weeks:In another two and a half weeks, we will hopefully find out if baby Trahan is a brother or a sister. The general consensus is that it is a girl. Although, part of me wants another boy. Not just because we can't agree on girl names (although that is a factor), but also because I think Mikie would enjoy a brother more than a sister. In the interim, Mikie has come up with some other suggestions for names. If it's a brother, he now likes "Alex the Lion". And, if it's a sister, he likes "Tom Brady". He is very serious about this last one. He keeps asking us, "Don't you think Tom Brady is a good name?" I guess it's a lot better than "Matt Cassel", but probably not appropriate for a girl.

Love, The Trahans

'Twas the Night Before the Party

'Twas the night before birthday party #3, and all through the house, everyone was put to work cooking, even Mikie.

Luckily, Mikie loves baking for two very important reasons:

1. We only bake chocolatey deserts in the Trahan household


2. All helpers get to lick the bowl/spoons/mixing beaters, etc. when we are done

First, we tackled the cupcakes. Mikie was actually better than I at separating the cupcake papers and putting them in the pan. Here are some pictures of helping:Once the cupcakes were baking, Mikie helped Mike assemble goodie bags. Unfortunately, he found a balloon and quickly became too amused by the balloon to help. In fact, he slowed down the process by repeatedly making Mike blow up the balloon, to the point that goodie bag assembly came to a halt. The whole situation is really too amusing to put into words, so I made a video. Click here to view (I apologize for any shakiness, I couldn't stop giggling).

After we stopped laughing and finished the goodie bags, we made the ever popular Fudgy Brownies. Mike started helping at this point because, unlike Mikie, he is more discriminating in what type of raw baked goods he consumes (basically, he prefers the taste of brownie mix over cake mix).

In spite of the sugar high, Mikie immediately went to sleep following our baking experience. And, since Mike is probably glued to the Red Sox game, I am left to finish decorating everything and make the macaroni and cheese. Which means I should stop blogging.

No rest for the weary. I think I may have to take a day off from work and go to the spa to recover from all these parties. Or maybe just stay home and sleep.

Love, The Trahans

Soccer

David Beckham can sleep well knowing that there is no threat of Mikie stealing his job. . .Today was Mikie's first soccer practice. Technically, last weekend was his first soccer practice, but due to the remnants of Hurricane Hannah, we just drove over and picked up his uniform.

Mikie is one of 65 Mighty Mights. Yes, there are 64 other kids he is practicing with. The Mighty Mights team includes all kids who don't qualify for the youngest of the youth soccer teams (ie, anyone under the age of 5). And, I was amazed to see some people did enroll their 2 year olds to play soccer. I found this incredulous. Because my 4 year old has a hard enough time listening to directions, I can't fathom anyone younger listening. But I digress. . .65 children under the age of 5 surrounded by at least one parent/grandparent per child. That makes for a whole lot of people crammed around a tiny section of soccer field. After the coach reviewed his expectations of us as parents of kids under 5 (basically, don't just drop your kid off and leave in case they get hurt or scared), all the kids grabbed their soccer ball and ran onto the field. The first task was dribbling the ball (kicking it back and forth between your feet for anyone who hasn't played soccer). When the coach yelled "red light" everyone was supposed to stop and put one foot on their soccer ball.

The first problem with practice was all 65 children looked identical. Every child looked exactly the same. For one, every child was wearing white shorts, white soccer socks pulled over their shin guards, and an orange shirt, all labeled with the number "1" on the back (so as not to hurt anyone's feelings). Secondly, every child really DID look the same. I kid you not, we must live in the least diverse city in the country. Every child had dirty blond/light brown hair. So, after watching other people's children that I THOUGHT were my son, I started trying to identify him based on the color of his soccer ball (Mikie having picked a red ball, his favorite color). See if you can identify him in the picture below:(In case you aren't sure, he is the kid in the orange shirt to the right of the girl in a green and white shirt).

The second problem with practice was that Mikie thought it more important to chat up the little girl who lives down the road than listen to the coach OR play soccer. If I couldn't find Mikie, I would simply locate Erin, and, odds were, Mikie would be standing nearby flirting. What was even funnier was how equally enamored she was with him. When Mikie actually DID focus on playing, Erin would suddenly realize she couldn't see him, and you could hear her calling "MIKIE" from everywhere on the field. And, like a lost puppy, he would make his way back over to her. I had to laugh, because I realized if anyone of our friend's from college witnessed this, I would have been harassed, since I was guilty of calling down the hall for Mike the same way when we were in college. (For anyone having a "Where's Waldo" moment, Mikie and Erin are pictured in the center of the photo, in front of the dad in the blue shirt.)

The third problem with practice (and why I will never make a good soccer mom), was other people's kids. Most of the kids were great, out having a good time. A few were timid, and wanted mom to hold their hand as they ran through drills. Then there were the kids who you just wanted to yell "suck it up" at them. Unfortunately for me, one of these kid's parents happened to be stationed next to me. At one point, the team started to play games of freeze tag (the kids all kicked their soccer balls up and down the field and if the coach tagged you, you were frozen). Every time this particular kid got tagged, he ran of the field crying hysterically. His parents kept trying to reassure him that it was "all part of the game" and he was "doing great". By the third time he ran off the field, I had to bite my tongue to keep from screaming at him "get a grip".

Alas, like "stay-at-home-mom", "soccer-mom" seems to be a personality trait I lack. Thankfully, the coaching staff seems to be much better at handling kids.

Aside from this, practice was very amusing. From the Massachusetts accents which many of the parents and the coach all seemed to have (I was wondering what he meant by "pitchers" since we were playing soccer; it took me a minute to realize he was talking about team "pictures") to Mikie raising his hand that he was a girl (we had a long conversation about that afterward). And, most importantly, Mikie had a lot of fun (and got immensely dirty and sweaty). So, it appears that we will all be continuing to participate in soccer. I will just need to learn to become more tolerant before next Saturday.

Love, The Trahans

Breaking News

Today, in Northbridge, a local 4-year old gave birth to a baby girl, ironically, on his birthday. The boy, one Michael Christopher Trahan, is now the proud parent of a turtle. For many reasons, not the least of which is the fact that Michael is a BOY, this is considered a medical mystery. Both the boy and his offspring are doing well, running around the house within minutes of announcing his new addition to his parents.Love, The Trahans

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