The Superhero and The Penny

In his quest to unlock the mysteries of the universe and in an effort to contribute to the well-being of mankind, Captain Owen continues his relentless pursuit of testing the laws of nature and the limits of his mother's patience. For example, a few of his experiments have been....

"How many places can I potty and poop that are NOT approved waste receptacles?" (Answer...too many to count.)

And...

"How far up on the wall can my chocolate milk go?"
(Answer....to the crown moulding.)

The latest theory put to the test was....

"What is the next best place to put a penny besides my piggy bank?"

Answer...

The superhero and his older cohort eagerly cracked the eggs and stirred the batter for the mound of sugary goodness that was to be Kai's birthday cake. Upon turning out the miniature loaf of cake I noticed a perfectly round hole in the top. After further inspection, a penny was located at the bottom of the pan with cake baked right on to ol' Honest Abe.

Of course, Captain Owen was the first to come to the mind of the experienced Mama! So he was subjected to some intense interrogation. Captain Owen dutifully stuck to the superhero's creed which is...

"Deny! Deny! Deny! And then give someone else the credit!" (Translation: Blame your brother.)

But after a few transparent denials, he succumbed to the pressures of a relentless Mama, and confessed.

Apparently, superheroes don't hide their money in offshore accounts or the predictable piggy bank.

They prefer cake.

The Superhero and The Pirate

Our super hero has been dormant for a while. It has been his time to refuel and recharge and get ready for re-entry. So get ready, Houston...

He's baaaaackkkk!

Captain Owen has reemerged from his self-imposed hibernation and come back bigger, better, stronger and ready to make his presence known. He is no wall flower. No shrinking violet.

Captain Owen has never met a challenge he couldn't face. The battleground of choice, you ask?

None other than the illustrious, expansive, energy-draining........

Super Walmart.

It is tricky for a superhero to know if a stranger is a friend or foe. (This is especially the case in a place as large as Super Walmart.) It takes some serious contemplation and well-honed superhero instincts to discern the intentions of another human being. For example, today he asked me if I, along with various other family members, were "strong and righteous."

In addition to the "strong and righteous" qualities he detects, Captain Owen has a detailed checklist of things to look for in determining one's status. One such item is.......

An eye patch.

It is best for Captain Owen to be contained in his supercart as we tackle the jungle that is Super Walmart. (2 days earlier he broke a gallon container of grape juice all over aisle 3. Perhaps he was on a reconnaissance mission and needed to test the response time of the employees.)

So, as we rounded aisle 4 and got ready to tackle aisle 5, the superhero's muscles tensed and he jumped up from his cozy perch in the supercart.

He stealthily peered around the corner and quickly glanced back at his Mama who was muttering something like, "Sit back down, Owen! You are going to fall out onto your head!"

Her words were in vain. There were bigger things at stake here. Besides, a superhero is well skilled at risking life and limb in pursuit of the greater good.

With the biggest 3 year old voice Captain Owen could muster and an arm outstretched towards an unsuspecting man, my superhero proclaimed....

"Mama! He looks like a pirate!!!"

A rather plain looking man in regular Levi's and a Nascar t-shirt (we are in Alabama, you know) turned around.

And then I got it.

He had an eye patch.

So, the Mama employed a stealthy maneuver of her own and did a 180 with the supercart and bolted to the other side of the Super Walmart. She was in no mood to witness an "interesting" exchange between a curious Captain Owen and an annoyed looking pirate with an eye patch.

One Year Ago Today

Yeah, I know. These are a year late.

But I've been busy! I had a baby. AND I moved.

(NOT the most flattering picture....I know.)

I can tell you exactly where I was and what I was doing this time last year!

I was laying in a hospital bed at Stamford Hospital in Connecticut. I was tethered to an IV bag and a catheter (lovely, I know). I was glued to the clock watching the minutes tick by until I could press my little button. The button that would deliver the nectar of the Gods.....my pain meds. Every 8 minutes I could depress my lifeline and get some sweet relief.

Sometimes I pressed it early. Only a minute or two. I knew it wouldn't deliver what I was after any earlier than 8 minutes...but you can't blame a girl for trying. I was hoping for a malfunction of the timing device. I was hoping for a little luck. Something. Just one extra drop. I was desperate.

Oh, well. I guess the hospital didn't want to make an addict out of a maternity ward patient. Every 8 minutes had to suffice. And it did....but barely.

I was held together with 12 staples on the outside and "too many stitches to count" on the inside. (My doctor wasn't really keeping track but his best estimate was "dozens." I think he was too busy trying to put me back together to worry about counting. My insides thank him for not trying to multi-task!)

I was under strict orders to "move as little as possible" by a man who had never birthed an 8 pound 10 ounce baby through his stomach. As if moving WAS possible! And even if it were, they would've had to decrease my piddly little 8 minute allotment.

But.........

I would endure 1000 staples and many multitudes of stitches to have Kai in my life. I would even do without my blessed pain medicine button, my lifeline. But I WOULDN'T do without my Kai.

I wouldn't do without the memory of him sleeping next to me in our hospital bed all bundled up tight and secure. The one blessing of not being able to move was that the nurses felt it was safe for Kai to sleep right there with me. It was comforting to me. It was peaceful. I was grateful.

March 12, 2008 was the sprint.

I'm in the midst of the marathon now. Only one year down and an eternity to go.

I can't wait.

I couldn't be more blessed. Stitches, staples, scars and all.

Happy Birthday, Teedles!

Daffodil Daze

My mom has a thing for daffodils. When I was young she would pull over our mini-van on the side of the road and tell us kids to "hop out quick and pick as many as you can!" No matter if it was wild daffodils on the side of a busy road or the plantings to the entrance of a community.....spring time was open season on daffodils for her.

Perhaps it was because we had hard packed Georgia clay around our house and she couldn't grow daffodils of her own. Perhaps it was the thrill of the hunt, the capture or the fragrant bounty. Whatever the reason for her obsession, you could find my mom and her rag-tag band of daffodil bandits rounding up fistful's of ill-gotten-gains and speeding away in the getaway van on any given day of early spring.

Through the passing of the years my mom's love of daffodils has not diminished. Thankfully, however, her wisdom has increased and her conscience gotten the better of her. Instead of leading her grandsons down the path of daffodil infamy, this Grandma has been reformed and rehabilitated.

With better soil and a bigger conscience, my mom has given up her wayward past and decided to grow the daffodils right in her very yard.

So, with a clean conscience and a waiting vase, my mom sent Drew and Owen out to pick daffodils in her own yard. No getaway van and no adrenaline. Sadly, I think these daffodils are not as thrilling for her as the contraband of yesteryear. At least my sons won't have to go down the road I traveled.

Thanks for keeping my sons above the law, Mom!!!

I convinced them to switch from this basket...

to this (for obvious reasons)...

They were instructed to pick the flowers to have long stems (just as I was many years ago)...

Drew was the quality control officer. All short stemmed daffodils were rejected.

It was nice to see my boys picking daffodils without having to look over their shoulders. Although, Owen still did.

The sweet smell of a vibrant daffodil. There is nothing like it!

Sphere of Influence

Kids can learn and be influenced and not really know they are being taught. This is really quite a relief for me because it requires less effort on my part! At the same time it is scary because it brings into sharp focus the fact that I cannot control their sphere of influence for much longer.

Drew is the first to venture out. It really must be a difficult task to be the trail blazer in the family. Actually, he's been the guinea pig for his parents, the cherished first grandchild and nephew (until Owen came along and knocked him off his throne), and the only "only child" his parents will ever have.

He's known the joy of not having to share and the trauma of an overzealous Mama feed him mustard greens, kelp and tofu. The agony of having to endure his parents' constant parental experiments and the ecstasy of having our full and undivided attention until Owen arrived. He's been the "first" for everything. He's had a full life in his scant 5 years.

Alas, his life will soon get fuller and my carefully controlled sphere of influence will deflate drastically.

The pin to prick my bubble of control?

Kindergarten.

It's a whole new world. A world of macaroni necklaces and playground politics. A world of exciting new friends like streptococcus, pneumococcal, and rhino virus.

Nerve-wracking for me and greatly anticipated for Drew. He's ready and he's willing and he's already talking about how he is going to love kindergarten. My little engineer-in-training....and I love him for it.

Not much gets by my Drew. So I've carefully surrounded him with positive influences and fought away the bad. I don't believe it takes a village to raise a child....certainly not MY child. However, I do believe it takes a whole family to raise a child. I want the influences of Grandmas and Grandpas and Aunts and Uncles. It is with these associations that I believe Drew and his brothers can get the reinforcement of our teachings.

Uncle Kimball is going for his second tour of duty in as many years...this time to Iraq. So Drew has been spending time with Kimball and his new wife, Annalise. He's been soaking up information about Kimball's motorcycle and being schooled in the ways of airplane, bomb and gun noises.... all very important information for a young boy!!

But it wasn't until I overheard a particular exchange that things came full circle for me. My sphere of influence theory was tested and proven victorious!

Drew has been taught by Jay the importance of treating women with respect. Many times I've stifled a giggle as I've watched Drew wrestle with a door that was too heavy for him to hold as I've passed through. Surely, our teachings have been reinforced these past days as Drew has watched Uncle Kimball treat Aunt Annalise with kindness, love and respect.

After a session of daffodil picking in the back yard, my suspicions were confirmed. Drew chose a daffodil for Aunt Annalise and instructed Owen to follow him. As they rounded the corner, I overheard Drew instruct his brother in the ways of the world. "Come on, Owen," he said. "Let's give this daffodil to Aunt Annalise. We've got to be nice to the ladies!"

Ah, everyone loves a gentleman!

NASA Called. They Want their Rocket Booster Back.

If I could bottle this up, harness this energy, tap into it's power...I would solve the world's energy crisis in a snap. No more bickering and bantering politicians and conflicting scientific reports. In fact, this could even get Al Gore to shut his mouth!!!

The alternative energy source which I speak of is a little bald-headed, squishy bottomed, chubby cheeked, fat footed baby!

Kai.

Ooo, I'm just in love with this kid! He's got me addicted and Jay is even worse. There is just something mesmerizing about him.

I get requests from perfect strangers to rub his head. I hear comments and oohs and aahhs as he smiles and "chats" with people in the stores.

Kai is delightful and wonderful. But........

He goes too fast!

What baby wears holes in the feet of his pajamas? (see above)

He rolled over at his doctor's appointment when he was 8 days old. The doctor thought it was a fluke until he did it 2 more times. The doctor smiled and clapped.

I cried.

Kai was crawling around the house on his 5 month birthday. Not just crawling, but speed crawling. I can hear the "slap, slap" of his hands on the hardwood floor as he darts around the house looking for fallen cheerios or cell phone chargers to corrode with his slobber.

And then there are the times when Kai gets down to business. He lowers his head and goes into aero-mode.....full steam ahead. Jay refers to him as the silver fox. The only drawback to this particular crawling style is that, with his head down, Kai fails to look both ways before he crosses the kitchen. We've had more than a few collisions with the wall when Kai is in aero-mode.

And now there is the walking. On Christmas Day he took his first steps. Every day he walks more and more and more. I see less and less of my little silver fox and more Frankenstein as Kai toddles about with his arms outstretched in front of him.

Can I stop time? Can I just delay it for a while?

He didn't stay a baby for long.

The future is calling....they want him. But they can't have him without a fight .

Our Fallen Hero Part 2

Owen.

What more do I need to say?

If I survive his exploits and adventures I deserve a designer handbag and more sassy shoes.

I know other kids are mischievous and inquisitive. But they aren't my kids!

Owen belongs to me.

We haven't had any "misadventures" in a while so I've been enjoying the relative calm. And then in the blink of an eye my Captain Owen disappeared and became Evil Owen.

Right on the heels of the brownie disaster came the "great kung-fu caper of '09."

Starring me! Finally my chance at stardom and Owen handed it to me on a plate!

I found myself amidst a tornado of Lego's, army guys, trains, airplanes, dinosaurs and scraggly little boys. I had no make-up on and the same pants that I wore the day before. Kai had snot ropes shooting out of his nose (sorry for the visual, but it adds to the drama!) and Drew had hair horns shooting from his scalp like Mt. Crumpit.

We were a mess!

I was in the basement toy room ignoring all the chaos around me and the grime in the sink just one floor up. Lost in a daydream (I was skiing) I noticed that it was too quiet for 3 boys. Owen had slipped upstairs.

Oh, no! Past experience indicates a disaster in the making.

Luckily, just as panic set in, he came down the stairs and I was happy that no unfortunate incident took place.

Shortly thereafter, a horrific scent wafted to my nose. I realized that Kai had a dirty diaper to beat all dirty diapers and needed a change before we passed out from the fumes.

I ascended the stairs to squeals of, "EEwwww! What's that smell? Something stinks!" As I reached to door and started to turn the knob I realized that Evil Owen had struck again.

That little devil locked us in the basement!

I didn't panic. I went to get the metal hanger to poke open the lock.

Wouldn't you just know it? The lock requires a KEY!

I have no key!

I can't go around to the front or back of the house because both doors were locked. The windows were locked. I had no key for anything and I was stuck in the basement with a foul stench, ankle biters, no food and no hope of rescue.

My phone was of no use because the only person that could save us was Jay. And he was stuck in the underbelly of the Pentagon and rarely reachable.

I had but one option. I had to bust down the door! I had to go full on Bruce Lee and Chuck Norris on our basement door!

Rage and anger were on my side, so I geared up for a full-throttle assault. I started by using my hip to test the resistance. After a few mediocre thrusts I gave the door what I thought would be the final blow.

Nothing!

A few creaks and groans from me AND the door, but it was still in place.

By this time, I was so mad at Owen and the door that I realized I had to pull out all the stops. I had to kick the door in! (Thankfully, I was wearing my gym shoes and not my sassy peep-toes.)

After a few test kicks I had a thought pop into my mind. "Just check the front door."

I always lock the front door. Always. But maybe, just maybe....

I hiked around the side of the house in 28 degree weather, cussing the entire way.

GLORY HALLELUJAH!!!!

So who feels silly now? I just waged World War III on my basement door!

My brother Dane told me a phrase that firefighters use that might help me should I find myself in this position again...

"Try before you pry!"

Thanks. I'll remember that.

Our Fallen Hero Part 1

I suppose he can't help it. It really is a difficult job being super. At times, an almost insurmountable task.

History is littered with heroes that couldn't take the pressure and fame that comes with the job. They make a mistake and in the blink of an eye go from famous to infamous.

And so it goes with Captain Owen. He is now just plain old "Owen."

Every super hero has a weakness. Superman had kryptonite and Spiderman had Mary Jane.

Owen has.... brownies.

Perhaps it was the fact that his super-cape was in the washing machine that allowed for the moment of weakness. Whatever the cause, the damage was done.

The "fall from grace" tale begins as follows, on a cold winter's morn.....

We had been stuck in the house following a winter storm. The snow had lost its appeal and turned to treacherous ice. There was no preschool and no gym. The Super Dad had been trapped in the Pentagon under a tremendous workload and had been getting home after midnight. So there was no "Daddy Diversion." (Too bad Captain Owen couldn't swoop down and rescue him!)

We only had each other for company and amusement....and it was starting to wear thin!!!

I employed the diversionary tactic of making brownies. And the boys were completely in charge. They cracked the eggs, stirred the batter and waited anxiously for the fruits of their labor to cool.

After lunch we had a great, gooey chocolaty treat and everyone was satisfied.

But in a moment of insanity, the Mama decided to do something for herself and was not on her guard. Owen slipped away undetected.

That is NEVER a good thing!

Moments later, from behind me, I hear Owen exclaim in a sing-song voice, "Hey you guys! I got some brownies for you!"

I didn't even have to turn around to know that this was bad.

Real bad.

There, clutched tightly in his grubby hands, were fistfuls of brownies squeezed into unrecognizable lumps of chocolate goop.

We followed the crumbs back up the stairs, through the living room and into the kitchen. There was the pan of brownies with a large crater in the center of the once even surface.

Owen was required to get the dust buster (which was purchased specifically because of him) and suck up the remnants of our morning project that had been scattered around the house.

His heart was in the right place. But every hero has his vice.

I'll just blame it on the missing cape.

Captain Owen

We had a sighting.

The ever elusive superhero decided to grace our home with his presence.

He came in the early morning hours when the competing superhero was off at preschool defeating the monsters.

His cape was gleaming in royal blue displaying only the hint of a previous battle with red fingernail polish. The vestiges of war. The wounds of a former battle displayed for all to see like a badge of honor and courage.

With fists clenched and teeth bared, Captain Owen flew around the kitchen in a blur of blue and red. The flaming hair a trademark and symbol of hope for the innocent.... but an emblem of doom and fear for those who dare to want to keep a clean house.

Captain Owen's body lives on juice and taquitos, but his spirit is fueled by the desire to search and destroy.

As the great and abominable red-headed grown-up was busy scrubbing down the round bottomed baby in an upstairs tub, Captain Owen was busy dismantling the kitchen. Every pot and pan and utensil was dispersed throughout the land so the Captain could practice his budding culinary skills.

(He believes whole heartedly in continuing education and expanding his skill set! Times are tough and the economy indicates that superhero work is waning. Captain Owen is a forward thinker.)

Not only does Captain Owen believe in continuing education, but also in new and innovative ways of cleaning and freshening a bathroom. Ever the helper!

As the Mama was engrossed in cooking vittles to fuel the superhero, he was busy dumping out the baby powder in the basement bathroom. Before his covert operation was discovered, he cleaned up the incriminating evidence with his Daddy's toothbrush. Very smart, indeed.

Recently, Captain Owen abandoned the practice of mispronouncing his "L's." No longer can he be tricked into saying, "woop-de-woop." (For loop the loop.) He is too savvy for that!

Our family could not be more excited that Captain Owen is gracing us with his presence. He is quick to hug and squeeze as tight as he can. Superheros never do anything half way!

On the rare occasion that his super powers fail him and he messes up, the Captain is ready with an apology and a kiss.

Captain Owen isn't all steel and stoicism. He has a new and improved 21st century superhero side to him. A sensitive streak. He notices when the Mama is sad or upset and gently pats my back or whispers i love you as he swoops by on his way to another important mission.

He likes to ask, "Mama, are you happy?" As a grin spreads across his face.

This is one of the strongest super powers he possesses. The Mama cannot help but melt under his power and feel the utmost joy and happiness to be the keeper of this little Captain.

Job Description

I've been bamboozled! Isn't motherhood supposed to be like the Gerber commercials?

I want you to go with me now, to the place where the baby sleeps peacefully while you read a book by a roaring fire. The older children are playing quietly so as not to disturb the slumber of the peaceful baby. (Who, by the way, isn't spotted with bruises and scrapes from his many encounters with the floor, wall or other obstruction!) Boys are neatly dressed in clothes without set-in stains and holes in the knees. And the mother is smartly clothed in a pale pink cashmere twinset.

All a pack of lies! A deception set forth to make sleep deprived and unsuspecting moms buy products that might make them get one step closer to the "Gerber" commercial. It is a conspiracy!

Most days I don't let myself get sucked into the delusion. Other days, however, I just wish. I wish for serenity and calmness and everything Gerber-esque.

Recently, I've been doing the wishing. I've planned and hosted my own little pity party where I am the guest of honor. It is a party to remember and long for the days in Greenwich where I had dozens of students, production meetings, classes to teach, meetings to attend and friends to visit. I was someone important. I had something to do.

Now, I do nothing. I take care of the boys, try to keep the house from disappearing under dirt and grime, and go to church. When Jay asks me, "What did you do today?" I ponder the question and the answer is always the same. "Nothing. A big fat nothing. Nothing new or different to report."

In an effort to extract myself from the never ending party of pity, I decide to conduct an experiment. I decide to write down what I do in a day.

Here are the results (Mostly in random order):

Change Kai and give him a bottle.

Shortly thereafter I call the Poison Control Center for instructions on what to do after a baby has eaten dishwasher detergent.

Clean up the copious amounts of throw-up that was brought on by the detergent.

Give another bottle and change Kai's clothes.

*All of that was accomplished before 7:00 a.m.

For breakfast I prepare 2 eggs on toast, cereal, oatmeal and bananas (NOT the instant variety), and section a grapefruit.

Take Drew to and from preschool.

Prepare 4 snacks.

Dispense numerous cups of juice (watered down, of course).

Make homemade pizza, rice cereal and pears (both homemade, not from a box or jar), applesauce and make a hamburger and asparagus for myself. (No carbs or sugar for me!!!)

Change 3 poopie diapers.

Supervise an art project, sort the toys, clean a toilet, put away the laundry, load and unload the dishwasher, read 4 books, have an impromptu photo shoot, make cookies, and wipe noses.

**All of this was done while wearing my leopard print, peep-toe wedges. I find that wearing a sassy shoe helps you forget that you have oatmeal crusted on your shirt and Cherrios crunching underfoot!

After I went to the gym and ran 2 miles, biked 8, and pumped some iron (NOT while wearing the aforementioned shoes!) I made grilled chicken, Brussels sprouts and sweet potatoes.

Then Jay gets home and we work on the bedtime routine and then collapse into bed. (After I blog and catch up on email and read a

magazine article.)

The conclusion to my experiment?

Life changes.

Perspectives broaden.

The Pity Party is over. Everyone can go home......and the Gerber commercials aren't invited into my home ever again!

What will I say when Jay asks, "What did you do today?"

I'll probably still say, "Nothing."