7 mother 14 children and a trip to downtown

We have successfully completed our first trip to the city with the ladies from school. (Sunday March 21st) We went to see Peter Pan at the Emerald City Theatre in Chicago, 7 mothers and 14 children. It took a while to make the arrangements, but we managed. It felt so nice to look at the seats around and see all the known faces. Hardly any kid sat with his/her mother, they looked for their friends and sat with them. Even Miss A sat next to Peri and her mother Sonja. I was curious how she would react if she gets scared. The moment Captain Hook came close, she jumped on Sonja and made Sonja keep the arm around her for the rest of the show.

The show was very well done. It was definitely not a big production. The stage is small, the cast is small, probably the budget is also small. Peter Pan was not the greatest singer either. But it was still very well done, with humor and passion for theatre. Especially the mermaids made us all laugh. Some of the kids were at a show for the first time. Emerald City Theatre is very child friendly, so it was the perfect experience.

Now the next step is to get the ladies to downtown Chicago without the kids. Wish me luck!

(oh, thanks to Brooke for driving me and the girls to the show.)

March 18th

I looked at the clock on my cellphone. It was 3.18 on March 18th. I just couldn't believe that P is not here with us on his b-day. We miss you Paps! Come home soon!

Happy birthday!

Miss A's new friend

Caroline started in A's class at the beginning of the year. Since she is in the class, Miss A tries to do everything with her. After school, she says;
"I had crackers with Caroline,"
"I cleaned the table with Caroline"
"I did sand paper letters, but not with Caroline."
I had to invite this Caroline here to meet A's new friend.

Last Sunday, Caroline came here with her mother. The hour before their arrival, A ran about the house and gathered "presents" for Caroline: necklaces, rings, stickers, a bag ... all A's belongings. I was amazed how much she wanted to give Caroline. I like it when the kids can say goodbye to their possessions, so I just watched her. (I did make sure that she try to give away her sister's stuff.)

Caroline arrived with her mother. Such a cute girl! The two friends took off right away. We didn't see them much for the next two hours (at least.) Well, we were busy, too. We spent the whole time chatting at table tennis - he he, one of my favorites!

The end of the wart!

Yesterday we filed away the last bits of the wart! Sorry, I really had to share this.

Coyote sighting

Wildlife always fascinates me, before it scares me. I wrote before about the coyote screams and cries we hear at nights. Last weekend, on Sunday morning at 8 am, we were still in bed, playing with the kids. We heard the cries. I jumped out of bed. Between the trees bordering neighbor's house, I could see something moving. Then they came, three of them, looking like skinny wolves. Three coyotes. We all stood at the window, watching them. They looked mighty and scary. They looked capable.

I watched the woods for coyotes many times, hoping to get a glans. Now I saw them, they make me nervous. If they want, they can easily get one of the kids. Three of them can even get me.

The village next to ours sent a newsletter warning about coyote sightings. People around apparently see more of them and sometimes encounter one or two. (A friend just said that she came face to face with one at the beach, when she was running.) The letter said that you should make yourself look bigger and keep eye contact. Don't run, don't scream. If they attack, hit them. If I ran into one, I would be so scared, I would forget all those things. What are the kids supposed to do!?

Here are two of the three coyotes. As I said, skinny wolves.

New wart remedy

Miss A invented a new way of getting rid of plantard warts. She talks to her wart. She says "Go away. Don't grow anymore. You have to get smaller." The thing is, she also says what the wart tells her. It says "I want to grow. I want to stay here." The wart in her imagination became some kind of an animal. Sometimes she says that the wart is moving and trying to come off. It's supposed to feel like a worm - or "worms are coming out of it."

I have to confess that I am a bit responsible for this "creativity". After all the doctors (lots of crying), medicines, filing etc, I might have started talking to the wart while putting on the medication. I hope it will come off soon and we will all forget about it - and all the imagination around it. I don't want Miss A's imaginary friend to be a wart - yuck!

Miss A's new friend!

Mark and Susan from Canada visited us. Miss A found a new friend: Sue!

We picked Susan and Mark from the airport together with A. It took us a while to get to home, I took all possible detours. THe reason: our house stinks again. Since the snow started melting, the smell came back. P and I were quite not happy. P even went the morning of Susan and Mark' arrival to get some air freshners. (also smelly stuff!) After lunch (of course at a restaurant) we came home. We could smeeeel the air fresheners.

When it was time pick up Miss F, A decided to stay with Sue. Then I knew they were friends. It did take another day for Miss A to learn Sue's name, but the first night she asked me if Sue was sleeping over.

Luckily, Mark and Susan didn't have to spend all their time in the smell. We got the plumber here and found out that the sump pit was not sealed properly by another plumber - if a plumber doesn't understand what "seal the pit" means, what can I tell more@?! The house got better. Basement is still a problem area, but who uses the basement anyway! We should pay rent for 2/3s of the house.

OK, enough of the smell. We had very nice two days with our visitors from Canada. Miss A will never forget them!

The "Mother of the year" award

Two weeks ago, our school had "Father's visit day." They send us a letter home, they put up signs and Miss A came home with a reminder. I made sure that P knew about the event, taht he was signed up and was not away on business trip on that Saturday. F was very excited to show daddy her work and her class. A accepted that it was for her older sister, not for her.

I thought I would use the opportunity to take A to our Gym, bring her to the child care there(she is used to be there with her sister, but not without her.) I would like to make more use of the Gym - like more than once in two moths - and it's easier if A likes the child care. And guess what, she absolutely didn't like it. I spend 20 minutes trying to convince her to stay there, finally left her behind crying and still missed the class I wanted to follow. It was NOT a success!

Then...

Oh no! I realized the father's visit was also for A! How could I ever make such a mistake??!! All those reminders and posters! I just didn't get it and made my little girl cry! I am up and running for that award. Gooooo Mommy! (sorry my little baby!)

The weak gender?

The kids are playing nicely (well, I will not complain about the mess in the living room) and husband is back to work, so I feel like blogging - and I have time for it!

When I was telling friends about P's approaching surgery, they had some funny comments. We are in the States for two years and P was hospitalized 4 times, twice for a surgery. Our American fiends know him as "that guy who is either in hospital or on a business trip."

One friend said "did he want to try another hospital?" It was P's third hospital, so she had a point. I'll give thumbs up for Condell in Libertyville, nothing like the black hole of hospital (once you get in, you cannot get out, I wrote about it a year ago).

"There is a reason why woman over live their husbands" said Carla. I always thought that husbands were mostly couple years older than their wives, that's why the husbands "went" first. Even though all the statistics show that woman live longer, I always found it comforting that P and I are just a year apart. But Carla might have a point. Oh, no! this blog is getting depressing, it was supposed to be fun!

"See" said Brooke, "that's why woman give birth to children. Man are weak, they wouldn't survive it!" So true, sorry guys! But we still love you! Let's say, it's nice to have a hubby around.

Where does this mess come from??!!

To prove that I am the best nurse ever, husband is back to work exactly one week after surgery. Now that life seems to go back to normal - nobody asking me to join him for a cup of coffee that I don't drink or telling me that I should come home fast from grocery shopping because he is so lonely - I can blog about the, well, "normal" stuff.

Last week we spent a lot of time at home and I had to face the fact that we have tooooooo many toys. In no time, the kids take everything out of the boxes and closets, and they let them lay around while playing with something completely different. I have to admit that they have been quite good with cleaning up, meaning, after we told them to do so like 10 times. Still there is a theory saying if there is less toys, there will be less mess. Or, is there such a theory? Am I making it up? The ultimate test is to get rid of toys and see the result. And that was the story of my Sunday.

At the end of my desperate quest, I ended up collecting a big garbage bag full of old toys that hopefully will make some other kid very happy. They were baby toys that act like a magnet. Whenever Miss A laid her eyes on them, they had to be spread out all over the place, like an impulse.

At the end of the day, I was quite proud of the big black plastic bag. Gosh, finally those toys were gone! With that satisfied feeling, I looked around to see my nice blankets, that I use on the couch on cold winter evenings, spread out on the ground; cushions used as bed for dolls and the bar chairs lined up as a train. What a mess! The result of this test shows us that less toys is not less mess. This conclusion takes us to the next theory: less stuff is less mess.

I am not testing that one. I want to keep my blankets, my cushions and my bar chairs. Since I am also keeping the kids, I think I will also keep the mess!