Monday, August 04, 2008


This morning we joined a friend and her kids for an outing to the Boston Children's Museum. I haven't been there with the boys in a year or so, mostly because it's expensive and my membership expired 2 years ago. Plus it's hard to chase after two of them, particularly when one likes to linger at exhibits and the other darts around from place to place like a pinball.

Well, all was going well enough. We were all in the bubble room, a large space with a variety of bubble-making objects, when Rowan asked if we could go to the construction area. (A favorite of my boys - two skid steers, hard hats, reflective vests, and a variety of construction vehicles they can play with.) I consulted with Julia, an dwe began the process of rounding everyone up. Kemper was desperate to try the bubble thing where you stand inside and pull a rope that raises a soapy hula hoop around you to make a giant bubble, so Rowan was standing with us while he waited. Julia had her two kids doing an activity in the next room while they waited for us.

As soon as Kemper's turn was over, he wiped his hands on his pants and he and Rowan ran out of the room and literally disappeared. I mean, it took me maybe 5 seconds to follow them around the corner of the doorway, and they were nowhere to be seen.

Now, I am not prone to panic, and I wasn't all that worried as I knew they didn't run toward the exit and that eventually they would find someone if they were worried. But in my pregnant and very slow condition, I was having a hard time figuring out the best way to search for them.

Luckily Julia found them fairly quickly - she had a head start on me, as I went to inform the Information desk that they were missing.

But this is why I'm so reluctant to take them places alone now - they're just too darned fast! This is also why, when visiting a busy place where I can foresee being separated from them, I write my cell phone number on their hands. I also often take a picture of them with my phone camera, in case I need a description of what they're wearing. At least it ended well.

What's in a Name

Last night we had a babysitter so that we could get out on our own for a few hours. We're very lucky in that the young woman who lives across the street from us adores our kids and they feel the same about her (they actually ask me if I can have Joslin come babysit).

When we got home, we had the usual summary of events. It was so funny, though. Apparently they all sat on the front porch, and Joslin's mom came over to visit. They started talking about names for the baby (which, by the way, we have made no progress on). It seems Kemper sat in deep thought for a while, then decided he would name his baby brother Pocket. When Joslin asked him why, he said, "Because I always have such interesting things in my pockets".

In its favor, I'm pretty sure he'd never in his life meet another person who shares his name....

Saturday, August 02, 2008


Well, we were at the beach for a week of relaxation and came home to find that it had been even rainier in Boston than in Maine and our basement had flooded in our absence. This happens every now and then, but typically in the spring with the never-ending storms we seem to get then.

By flood, I don't really mean flood. More like puddled. The water comes in on one side of the basement, fills up this hole in the floor (don't know exactly what said hole is for), then overflows and runs across the basement floor into another hole (again, not sure why it's there to begin with). If that hole fills up, which is extremely rare, we then get the buckets out and bail it from there into the basement toilet (yet another feature of our house that seems a little unusual). Of course, this all assumes we're home to monitor the situation. Which we weren't.

Normally the basement is in pretty good shape to withstand said water issues. But it just so happens that we're in the middle of renovating our kitchen and back room, so we had to put a bunch of boxes and stuff into the basement for the duration of the project. To prepare for the boxes, we rearranged other things, which ended up being right in the path of the water. It then took my pregnant self a week to finally assess the damages, and I found to my relief that most of the baby clothes were in plastic bags and therefore seemingly undamaged. Whew. Then I found the suitcases - mostly dry, but covered in mildew. Once those were tossed out into the sun to dry and get brushed off, I discovered my infant car seat. Which was, of course, coated in fuzzy mold. Ugh. So now I'm just hoping I can get it clean enough to use when the baby comes. Plus I think I'll need to inspect every article of clothing now to make sure it isn't green and fuzzy.

Sigh. Like I really needed this.

Tuesday, March 11, 2008

Charm School

Well, I think my boys might need a little help in the charm department. Don't get me wrong, they're very cute and polite, but I think it might be time to teach them about tact and little white lies.

The other day I was sitting on the toilet when my usual audience arrived. (I know, I should just lock the door, but whatever.) So there I am, doing my business, when Rowan very seriously looks up at me and says, "Mom, why is your butt so big?"

See? Not so charming. But it was awfully funny.

Saturday, February 16, 2008


The other day things were not so great at our house. I was feeling sick (nausea and completely blocked up sinuses), the basement was threatening to flood with all the rain we were getting, I was signed up to work at the co-op we belong to, and who knows what all else.

In the late morning, the boys asked if they could have the candy Rowan had picked out for them last night, so I got them out. They were Brach's butterscotch ones. Anyway, about 15 seconds after popping it in his mouth, Kemper proceeded to choke. Not the fully blocked airway kind of choking, but close enough. He was trying to shove his fingers into his throat to get it out, gagging all the while. I did the Heimlich maneuver, and it eventually popped out. Whew. I set the offending piece of candy on the counter so I could comfort poor Kemper, then he got up and I started cleaning up the floor. While I was doing this, he grabbed the candy off the counter and popped it into his mouth...

...and CHOKED AGAIN! I couldn't believe it. This time was even worse. The candy never came back up, he just gagged and gagged and spit up blood (he had scratched the back of his throat while trying to get it out), then swallowed it. Of course, this one was all my fault. Why didn't I just throw the stupid thing in the trash?!

Man, what an experience. Thank goodness for CPR training. I'm not sure which of us was more frightened by the whole event, but suffice it to say we sat on the kitchen floor, both of us in tears, for quite a while.

Tuesday, February 05, 2008

Birthday Blues

My, how time flies. I somehow managed to miss posting anything about Christmas or the New Year. Both of those holidays were great - a nice long visit with Mimi and Pops, cousin Cyrus and uncle Reynolds for a few days, lots of presents.

But on to birthdays. Today is the boys' 4th birthday. Hard to believe, but true. We had their party this past Saturday, and it was a big hit. For the first time, I contracted it out, so to speak. We had a build your own sundae party at a local ice cream shop. They provided a staffer to play games with the kids, and they did all the set up and clean up. I think most of the kids had fun, though some of them sat out of a game or two (Rowan wanted no part of "Pin the cherry on the sundae" game, for example).

In any event, it was fun. I think next year we might be up to having a drop-off party, but I just wasn't ready for that this time around.

Late Saturday night, Kemper woke up as Morgan and I were getting ready for bed. Sick as a dog. At first I thought maybe we had let him eat too much junk (ice cream sundae and king cake at a church Mardi Gras fundraiser that night), but I now know it was a virus. He was up most of the night (which, of course, means I was up most of the night as well), and spent most of Sunday in recovery.

And guess what? Like nearly everything else in this house, we share viruses. It was Rowan's turn to spend the night on the makeshift bed in the bathroom. At least he's pretty much over the vomiting in bed thing. He didn't quite make it all the way to the bathroom, but still. The wood floor is much easier to clean up than the bed.

Sigh. I wonder when I'll get this dread disease?