Sandy, One Year Later

Ellie and Leo surveying the damage, two days after Hurricane Sandy storm. This tree was across the street from our house. It, along with many others were removed, and our neighbor was very lucky that tree didn't land on her house--look how close it came.

A year ago today, the wind howled, the trees splintered around us like broken toothpicks and the lights went out. Hurricane Sandy arrived. 

After we lost power, our family piled into one big bed and listened, terrified, as the wind roared outside--it truly sounded like the world was about to end. I am not exaggerating when I say it was one of the scariest things I've ever experienced. 

When the storm was over, our lives ground to a halt. Without heat and electricity for ten days, schools were closed and all around us was evidence of the destruction: downed trees, power lines and homes. Our losses were minor in comparison to many others, and very much replaceable. Sadly, many others were not as fortunate. It was a trying time that I won't soon forget, and a sobering reminder of how fragile our little lives are--we really are just a wind's gust away from disaster. 

As they say, much was lost that day, and much was gained. And I think it's true what they also say, that God isn't the hurricane, God is the cleanup (it's an old Yiddish phrase my dad quotes often). In short, a lot of good did come out of that literally dark time. 

I wrote this last year, so I wouldn't forget.

I'm Dreaming of a Non-White, Actual Halloween

Tomorrow is the one year anniversary of Hurricane Sandy. For the past two years, we've had two major, life altering (at least temporarily, for us, thank goodness) storms on the same day. You can't blame me for perhaps hiding under the bed for most of October 29, 2013, right?

So far, the weather report for the next few days is good. And if all goes well, in a few days we'll celebrate our first Halloween since 2010.


Halloween, 2010. Ellie was three. Leo was six (and little did anyone know-including me-I was pregnant with twins). But look at these two! Look. How. Little.

In 2011, we lost power for five days and Halloween was cancelled by an unusually early in the season snow storm, which landed us in a hotel twenty miles from home with five month old twins (who unbeknownst to us had double ear infections, ask me how much fun THAT was). I remember on Halloween night that year, the hotel manager cheerily telling us there was a nice little residential neighborhood a few blocks away where we could take the kids to Trick or Treat. Just...no. Then there was the little Halloween party we'd planned. And the refrigerator full of food that went spoiled. And as the blizzard raged on outside our living room window (and the power went out), Ellie's sad little four year voice quivering, "Why isn't anyone coming to our party?"

Last year on Halloween, with our area still reeling from the after-effects of Sandy, our town put out an APB that trick or treating was strictly prohibited. This proved to not be that difficult to enforce since we had no electricity, (therefore no street lamps), heat or hot water and several giant trees were down all over our neighborhood. School was closed all week, so those parties were cancelled. We did, as a family, have a little at home celebration the weekend after our power was restored, but let's face it, dressing up at home doesn't have quite the same cache as school.



It might sound silly, but I'd been hesitant to get my hopes up about Halloween this year. And let's face it, TWO storms in TWO years on the same day? You might be a little uneasy too.



But yesterday, feeling confident and celebratory, we dug out the Halloween costumes. I had two tucked away that I thought would work for Harry and Lucy (no spoilers-you'll see them after the big day). For some reason I saved the twins' costumes from last year, which they did wear, as they paraded up and down our driveway before feasting on Munchkins--yes, that was our eventual family Halloween party, somewhere around November 9, I believe.


Harry's old bee suit was laughably snug on Lucy. But don't tell her (and yes, she insisted on trying it on and keeping it on in an insistent manner that only Lucy possesses)..

I'd forgotten about the stinger.

We are SO ready. Halloween 2013. Bring it. But can we keep our heat and power this year?

Brunch and the Loudest, Littlest One

We took the kids into the city to meet some friends for brunch this weekend. It's been a few months since we've done this and every time we go, it gets a little easier. And of course, a little more ridiculous.

Here's Lucy giving her famous "thumbs up." She particularly enjoyed the house-made vanilla ice cream. She particularly did not enjoy staying in her high chair.

Serious vanilla ice cream FOCUS.



Speaking of Lucy. Oh, Lucy. She is exploding into quite the little character. Such a Big Personality in such a small little person. She talks non-stop. About anything and everything. And she is insistent. When she is ready to get down from her high chair: "I want down Mommy, I want down Mommy, I'm done Mommy, I'm all done Mommy, I'm done, I want to get down now Mommy"--all in a span of about 3.9 seconds.  She does not quit.

She's shockingly observant. The other day I was cleaning up after the seventeenth meal of the day and I muttered something about needing to sweep the kitchen floors. A minute later, who skips into the kitchen but a gleeful Lucy, dragging the broom and dust pan: "Here you go Mommy!"  Oh, she was proud. If she wasn't so incredibly HAPPY about everything, it might be more frustrating. But she just bounds through her little life with so much exuberance, that the mind numbing repetition is excused (it also helps to remember that she's, you know, two).

Before we left for brunch on Sunday morning, I stuffed a few trains and cars in my purse for Harry to play with during the meal and reached for something to occupy Lucy-realizing Lucy doesn't play with toys as much as she plays with other people. She is by far the most social creature I know.

She and Harry do play together more and more. As Harry's language is beginning to take off, I see little conversations between them. But she still, shall we say, dominates her big brother. One of her favorite games? Screaming as loud as she can, which almost always makes Harry cry. She does it during meals. She does it in the car. She does it in the wee hours of the morning as I race to get dressed before freeing them from their room. Yeah. The screaming has become a little bit of a problem. The other day in the car, Lucy actually made Leo cry. That's how loud and insistent she can be. She roars, really.

However. She is also unbelievably empathetic. She's the first to rush to your side if you bump your knee or fall off your bike. At night when we read books before bed and she folded up in my lap on the green shag carpet in the twins' room, she surveys my hands for scratches. "You OK, Mommy? You have a boo-boo?" And then she kisses my hand, squeezes it and tucks it under her tiny chin.

That is, when she deigns to call me Mommy. Somehow she got wind of my first name and, well, let's just say she's not afraid to use it.


Please pay no mind to the cameos by Spider-Man and the (almost always) topless six year old.


Don't be fooled by that innocent look.

Nine and Milestones, Good and Bad

Leo had his nine year "well" visit today. NINE! Gulp and also, yikes. Oh time. You do have a way of marching on, don't you?

I've said this before and I'll say it again, after so many years of struggling with Leo at doctor's visits, what a pleasure it is now, to take Leo to these appointments. Watching him agreeably have his ears checked and heart listened to, it's almost eerie, it's like he's not even the same person he was at age three, and four and five, when it sometimes took two people to hold Leo down just so the doctor could look in his throat or listen to his heart.

Now? Leo is Mr. Cool. Today, even though he told me he didn't want to have his blood pressure taken, he conceded, and while the arm band pumped away, he politely told Dr. J about fourth grade and his beloved planets and basketball and how he likes to go the doctor now but "NOT with Ellie."

Leo's doctor even commented on it, right after he remarked on "What a nice young boy Leo is turning into." (Yes, he sees Leo maybe three times a year, but no matter, and so cue my heart, swelling).

"For years I only saw Leo when he was upset and febrile, so I never got to know him. What a pleasure he is," said Dr. J.

Dr. J also told me how impressed he was by how our family juggles everything and launched into the whole "God only gives you what you can handle" speech which I sort of roll my eyes at, but I also know that people mean well when they mention it. He made me laugh though, because he went on to say how he'll see a mom with a lot of kids and various issues or special needs and they are doing just fine, and then he sees a mom with one kid, perfectly healthy and no issues, and they are just freaking out and not handling it at all. I don't know, I don't mean to sound boastful in any way, it just made me smile. How everyone "handles" things? It's all relative I guess.

***
Ellie has soccer on Sunday afternoons and Leo usually comes too. During Ellie's game, he goes to the playground and often strikes up a pick-up basketball game at one of the nearby courts.


Last week Leo played with this nice young man. I watched them from afar and thought it was great how they just played together and didn't even need to speak to each other. I guess that's just how dudes are.

Of course I keep an eye on Leo, the playground is not in my direct line of sight by the soccer field, so I check on him throughout the game. Again, it does not go unnoticed how far we've come. Just a few years ago I would never have dreamed of taking Leo to a playground and not watching him like a hawk, fearing that he'd run off into the street or just, run off altogether.

Two weeks ago, during one of my "checks," I noticed Leo was sitting atop the monkey bars. Sobbing. I walked over to him and asked him what was wrong. He told me that a boy had pushed him. He pointed to a group of young boys several hundred yards away, paying no attention to Leo.

It's always a little touchy, being the mom at the playground with older kids. I wasn't about to bust in and reprimand anyone: I didn't see what happened. So I told Leo that the next time something like that happened, he should come and get me.

Then yesterday, after Ellie's game, I let her join Leo at the playground for a few minutes. Ellie had ordered me to "guard her Oreos," and I was happy to oblige at the bench in front of the slides. A short while later, a little girl from Ellie's soccer team approached a dad who was standing next to me, talking to a mom.

"Excuse me! Excuse me!" the little girl was quite persistent.

I thought maybe someone was hurt.

"That boy over there, he's talking funny. And...he's older. He's not a baby or a little kid but he kind of sounds like one. He's not talking right." 

Now my ears were really perked up: I realized she was talking about Leo.

"Is anyone hurt?" the dad asked. "Is someone fighting?"

"Well, um, no," the girl answered.

"OK, so..." the dad just looked at her and she slowly walked away.

It was just so ODD. She didn't even seem to know the dad. So she was tattling on Leo...for "not talking right?"

I couldn't help myself. I slowly followed the little girl. There was Leo once again, sitting atop the monkey bars and looking very upset, his lip curled over into a pout, his face, red.

The little girl was back at it.

"Well why does he talk like that? What is he saying?" She was talking to a small group of children, one of whom was Ellie. No one was saying anything, except Ellie. Sweet Ellie. Thank goodness for Ellie.

"He goes to speech school (that's what we've nicknamed Leo's private speech therapy, which he goes to on Saturday mornings. Ellie likes to come along because it means she gets a lollipop). And he just talks how he talks. Not everyone talks the same you know."

Ellie wasn't letting this little girl (who happened to be Ellie's teammate, I realized) get away with anything. She was very matter of fact about Leo's speech: He just talks that way. What's your point?
And to be fair, none of the other kids in the group seemed to know what to say to her either, nor understand what her problem was.

It was an odd situation. I didn't want to intervene and be the pushy helicopter mom.  The girl wasn't being outwardly cruel, just kind of insensitive. I told Leo it was time to go (which it was), but I watched as Ellie's teammate actually climbed down from the monkey bars and actually followed Ellie, continuing to ask her about "Why he talks that way?"

In hindsight, I wonder if it was a "teachable moment." Maybe I should have said something to the girl about diversity and how not everyone speaks in the same way, looks the same, etcetera (though I feel like Ellie had covered that already). Unless someone is in harm's way, I really like to let kids try and work things out (especially kids I don't know!).

And now, a new reason to keep an eye on Leo at the playground.

On Autumn Leaves, Daisies (the Organized Kind), Toddler Escapees and Misbehavin' (Charts)

1. I forgot how much fun leaves are.







They are great for burying, throwing, piling onto toy dump trucks...really the possibilities are endless. We broke down and hired the yard crew to help out this year but they didn't come until this week, while everyone was at school and work (and obviously, after these pictures were taken). As well intentioned as I am, neither Erin or I have the time. I tried to rake a little on Saturday while the kids were playing outside and, well, if that's not the definition of a Sisyphean task, then I don't know what is. Someday, we'll have quite the little built-in work crew, but that day is not today.


Leo might enjoy the leaves most of all.

2. Ellie joined Girl Scouts. Well, Daisies. No pictures yet but I'm currently on a mission to purchase the  requisite vest (see above). The store where it can be purchased is only open for three hours two Saturdays a month. I know! I am pretty sure if I do make it to that store I will also need to know the secret handshake. She had her first meeting last Friday and I had to got to leave work early to attend the first parent meeting. There was a lot of squealing and giggling going on at her meeting, which I peeked in on, but that's about all I know of Daisies at this point. Also, there will be cookies to sell (and eat) later in the year. A lot of cookies, so that's something to look forward to. (I had to laugh at one mom at the meeting who made a point of saying she could not be a "cookie helper" because she wouldn't be able to trust herself with all those cookies in her house--apparently "cookie helpers" are required to store the ordered cookies).

3. Did I tell you the babies climbed out their cribs? I didn't? Well, The babies climbed out of their cribs. It happened last week during nap time. I was at work and the babysitter called to tell me she found Harry and Lucy sitting outside of their room, smiling and laughing. And apparently, quite pleased with themselves. Yes, the moment every parent fears, finally happened. I guess this should also be the time that I admit that I believe all children should be in cribs until at least age 20.

Mind you, I would be way less concerned about this if we were only talking about one baby, but two babies? Free reign? In a room with just each other? Oh goodness, NO. I am afraid to even talk about this out loud because I fear that our "solution" (threatening the babies that if they don't stay in their cribs they'll have to go to the doctor and get a shot) will stop working. I'm just not mentally ready for toddlers in beds. Just, no.

4. Ellie is suddenly very focused on behavior charts.



It took me a while to realize the guy on Ellie's behavior chart? Is totally flipping us off (Ellie claims it's supposed to be a thumb's up, but I'm not so sure).


There seems to be a ton of talk about behavior in first grade. Several times since school has started, she's told me that she didn't get to do computers or have free time because of bad behavior (not hers, but someone or "someones" in her class). She is frequently adding and subtracting stars to the above chart and even has Harry and Lucy in on the action. "Do you think I should take one of Lucy's stars away?" Ellie asks (The answer is usually, yes-cough, cough-wait, did I just say that?).


Lucy's version of a "thumb's up." And yes, it makes me laugh, every single time.


Columbus' ship, by Leo
Columbus Day, came and went. I don't know about you, but I did not get the day off.

My Heart

I call this one, Ham Sandwich

Tonight, Leo told me he "Loved me from his heart."

This just makes All the bad, hard stuff fall away. 

Hair-Man

I think it's been confirmed. I stink at 31 for 21 this year. Ah well.

Here are some pictures.

Harry needed a haircut. Every weekend for the past month I've promised myself it would happen and well, it's just amazing how well-intentioned my lists are on Friday afternoon and how humble I feel by Sunday evening.


You know it's time for a trim when, after a little post-dinner plate play (side note: What is it about toddlers and plates? Do YOU look at a plate and think, A Hat?! I know, I know, you are likely not wearing diapers either, so...) you wake up with lasagna still in your hair (I cleaned him off! I did! Honest!).


Part of the problem was that the adorable little old school mom and pop barber that I love to support happens to have terribly inconvenient hours for us (closing at 3pm on weekends, staying open "late"--till 7 pm on week nights) which is fabulous in theory, unless the patrons go to bed at 6:45 (Hi Harry!). But would you look at this? A new(ish) kid barber (replete with "car" chairs and Thomas DVDs) opened up recently, not even ten minutes from our house. I'm not going to say that Harry loved getting his hair cut yesterday, but there were far fewer tears than the last few times. Old School Barber is just that, so, no Mini Coopers to sit in or kiddie videos to watch (I know, the poor dears).


I think we can all agree the finished product was worth the squirming and fussing. And Leo was so proud of Harry for being brave. After all, Leo knows a thing or two about haircuts.