Max's First Trip to the Dentist

Max visited the dentist for the first time today. We are fortunate to have a wonderful pediatric dental office here in our home town. They had toys to play with, kid-friendly equipment, and dentists and hygienists trained to work with kids. The whole experience went very smoothly. Max was a real trooper -- holding still for x-rays, and allowing a cleaning and fluoride treatment with nary a peep. His teeth looked clean and healthy, though the crowding and the overbite suggested that we have orthodontics in our future. Oh goody! Another expense to look forward to...

Special kids' waiting area

The dentist checking Max's teeth (and shielding his eyes from the bright light)

Is this a dental office or a tanning salon??!!

All clean!

Blood, Bandages, and Runaways

It's always something around here.

In the past couple weeks, we have endured the following:

1.) Henry running away at Kohls. After several increasingly frantic minutes of searching accompanied by two store employees, I found him in a rounder of clothing. He popped out grinning as if to say, "The terrible twos are here! Get used to it, Mom."

2.) Scott spraining his ankle. Apparently Max laid a trap of slippery slate rocks at the bottom of the deck stairs and Scott, who was carrying plates of hamburgers and who has weak ankles to begin with, fell for it (literally). The ankle puffed up to twice its normal size and took on a variety of lovely colors. The only possible "positive" of this whole situation was that Henry learned a new word. He will now look at me solemnly and say "Ankle" while pointing toward the back yard.

3.) Max taking a nasty spill at Krusi Park. Yes, this is the same place where Max split open his head a few months ago necessitating a trip to the ER. A sane person might wonder, "Why does she keep taking her kids back to this death-trap of a park?" What can I say? It's a fun park when we're not gushing blood. In any case, this time Max fell on his face and received the biggest fat lip I've ever seen. In addition, he tore his frenulum (the little piece of skin connecting his upper lip to his gums). The whole thing bled, A LOT, but I was reassured when I took Max across the street to see my neighbor who is a pediatric nurse. She said that there was nothing they could do for him at the hospital and we should stick with motrin and popsicles at home (a very popular course of treatment). Now, a couple days out, he's looking a little less like a prize fighter, and I'm hoping that he doesn't end up with a scar.

Sigh...

Fall Fights and Festivals

Kids + Pumpkins = Adorable Photographs.

Scott and I got into a fight about this very equation over the weekend when we visited Perry's Farm Pumpkin Patch and Ardenwood's Harvest Festival. Scott's "cheesy and inauthentic" is my "cuteness nirvana." You can be the judge as you peruse the following photographs chronicling pumpkin selection, train ride, and picking of corn.

A good time was had by all (at least once Scott and I got past our acrimony. It wouldn't be a marriage if we didn't fight about stupid issues, now would it?!).

An Urban Bluegrass Adventure

Last week I read in the paper about a free bluegrass music festival to be held in San Francisco. I thought to myself, " Heck, I like bluegrass music. I lived in Virginia for ten years, didn't I?" Additionally, I thought, "I like free things. We don't have any money after paying for our deck and fence, right?"

And thus our fate was sealed.

Saturday afternoon after the boys woke up from their nap, we piled them in the car and headed for Golden Gate Park. I was envisioning a scene where families would spread out their picnic blankets and nibble quietly on sandwiches while toddlers frolicked with the family dog and gentlemen strummed banjos on a haphazard stage. What I wasn't envisioning was a massive crush of humanity -- something close to 700,000 people-- overtaking ever corner of the park and pressing up again seven different stages where a dizzying variety of acts played simultaneously.

Our first clue should have been the fact that it took close to half an hour to find a parking spot a million miles from the park in the depths of the Outer Richmond. We shlepped our children and our gear over to the park, staring slack-jawed at the flower children, frat boys, retirees, street people, and other assorted city dwellers surrounding us. The plan had been to meet up with friends near the quaintly named "Banjo Stage" where Gillian Welch was performing, but it quickly became clear that there was no earthly way to find anyone in that crowd and furthermore, the Welch performance was so packed that it was standing-room only and the performer herself was a mere dot in the distance.

Ever adaptable, we took our rugged Peg Perego stroller for a rough trek up the side of a hill and through a grove of eucalyptus trees. Eventually, we found a spot amongst the trees behind some stage or another where we watched a couple acts we had never heard of (from the back) and enjoyed our picnic and people watching. One favorite moment was when a drunk lesbian couple fought their way up the side of a tree so that they could drink whiskey and watch the action from on high. Scott and I also had a good snicker over Max's comment, "It's stinky around here!" Yes, son, that's the smell of pot smoke. Welcome to San Francisco.

All told, we ended up having a really good time, and the kids enjoyed playing in the dirt and dragging logs all over the hill. They didn't mind a bit that we couldn't really see much on the stage.

If we return to this festival next year, I think we will have learned a few things and will be better prepared. It really was an amazing event in an amazing city. Have I mentioned how much I love living in the Bay Area?

Henry posing in front of our "view" of the stage.

Scott and Max eating dinner.

Our "neighbors" trying to get themselves up the tree.

Good Times

Just a few photos to catch everyone up on the fun we've had over the past two weeks...

"Helping" Mommy make honey bread for Rosh Hashanah:

Fun at Super Franks with Hunter and Miles:

Kairav and Luke come over for lunch:

Enjoying the Alameda beach with Anj, Jay, and Kairav:

Trip to the S.F. Zoo with Anj, Kairav, Kimiko and Luke:






One quick story about the zoo -- while we were busy in the petting zoo brushing the goats and raking the dirt, a bunch of ravenous squirrels broke into the stroller, UNZIPPED the lunch sack, and ate our PB & J and turkey sandwiches. Wow! Who knew that squirrels were even capable of this sort of sneaky behavior! Lucky for us, the snack bar was open and selling burritos. Maybe the zoo employees have trained the park's squirrels to go after lunches so that the snack shack can bring in more revenue. Just a thought.

Home Projects Continue

We spent far more than we set out to spend and our children will never go to college, but at least we have a nice new fence and staircase in the back yard.

Despite the financial hit, it really did need to be done. The old fence had been there for a good sixty years at least and it was leaning so far in the direction of our yard that a strong wind could have taken the thing down. Then there's the fact that Max would periodically come around the corner with a piece of rotting wood he had ripped off of the fence shouting, "Look Mom -- rusty nails!". I may not be a perfect parent, but I know that rusty nails and toddlers do not mix.

After much back and forth and negotiations with the neighbors, we chose a construction company and decided to move forward. I have to say, the entertainment value alone made the whole project worthwhile. The boys LOVED watching the workers with all of their tools. They had a particularly good view of the new deck and staircase going up directly outside of the kitchen sliding door:

I should have been better about taking "before" pictures, but the few I found while going through my iphoto gallery will have to suffice. Thanks to Anj and her family for being my unwitting models!

Fence Before:
(Behind the boys and the sand table you will notice a rotting fence with boards missing. You will also notice the out-of-control trumpet tree that we had removed).

Fence After:

Deck and Staircase Before:
(What a death trap! Notice how when you stepped out of the house you had a big step down. Plus, the deck didn't extend along the entire opening of door which made it very dangerous for kids).

More Deck and Staircase Before:
(Here you can see the dangerous alignment with the door and the fact that the whole structure was not attached to the house and was basically sitting there on top of the concrete on a few planks. Are you kidding me? Who ever thought that this was a good idea?!)

Deck and Staircase After:

Hurray! We're so pleased with our home improvements. Now if we could only afford new windows, new paint, new brick stairs in the front, new landscaping, a master suite addition...

Max's First Day of School

It was a momentous morning for us, but I'm pleased to report that Max (and his mom and brother) survived the first day of preschool! We've been talking up this preschool thing pretty heavily over the past few weeks, and Max seemed calm and mildly enthusiastic about the idea. My feeling was that he would do just fine and not experience much separation anxiety, but you never actually know for sure until the moment is upon you.

This morning Max got all ready to go, and we took a few of the obligatory first-day-of-school photos (see below). He LOVES his new alligator backpack, and that alone would have made the day for him. Once we arrived at school, we waited outside and met a few of the other families. Max's friend, Mick, arrived shortly with his parents, and it was nice for Max to see a familiar face.

A few moments later, Ms. Vee opened the door and ushered everyone inside. The three-year-olds were told to sit on the carpet, and parents took the tiny chairs around the circle. Ms. Vee had a lot of information to share, but it was hard to focus with all the craziness going on around us. Max did a good job of sitting still, but many of the kids were running around and getting out toys, including our own Henry G. who did not seem at all intimidated to be the youngest one in the room. He probably would have been perfectly happy if I'd left him there all morning to play with the three-year-olds! In any case, a few minutes later, the teacher told us to give the kids a hug and quickly make our exit. I told Max that I loved him and that I'd be back to pick him up in a few hours, then I left the building without looking back.

Outside, I paused to talk to a few other parents, and I kept my ears open for the sound of crying. Someone was wailing inside, but I knew that it wasn't Max. I was holding it together pretty well at this point and was feeling pleased with myself. All of that changed, however, when Henry and I got in the car. Henry kept yelling, "Mac! Mac!" and pointing anxiously back at the building. It was as though he were saying, "Mom! You idiot! You left my brother back in there!" For some reason, it was this that got to me more than anything else -- little Henry's sadness and concern over his missing brother. The two of them have barely spent and hour apart since Henry was born eighteen months ago. Well, I sat in the car, sniffled a little, imagined a midlife crisis when both of my children were in school and my life was lonely and empty of meaning, and then I pulled it together and went home.

Henry and I went for a walk, read some age-appropriate books, did an age-appropriate puzzle and generally reveled in the sorts of activities that one can never seem to accomplish when there is a demanding, camp-director three-year-old around. Occasionally, Henry would ask about his brother and wander around the house looking for him. The three hours passed VERY slowly and then finally it was time to go pick Max up.

The teachers had all the kids ready and sitting on the rug. Max was wearing his backpack and clutching his "homework" (an art project) in his hand. He gave me a huge grin and sauntered out of the room. I asked him a million questions, and got only the briefest of answers. Yes, he had a good time. Yes, the teachers were nice. Yes, he liked the other kids. On the drive home, a few more details came out -- "Some of the kids cried when their mommies left them, but I didn't cry," "On Wednesday we get to play with play dough," "Miss Katie is nice, " "I used the bathroom at school," "One little girl kept laying down on the rug."

It felt so strange to think that my little boy now had a life apart from me -- people he knew and things he knew about -- that had no relation to me. I'm so used to being involved in every aspect of Max's life -- his playdates, his "insider" jokes, his every meal and snack, his skinned knees, his warm hugs. What kind of kid is he apart from me? How will these new, independent experiences change him and shape him as a boy and not a baby?

There's a whole world ahead of Max, and I will be less and less a part of it the older he gets. That's the way things go. I know that, but knowing doesn't make it hurt any less. Sometimes being a parent breaks your heart.