Thursday, January 22, 2009

mamathree

The name won't change, but the household will.  The Kenobi's are having a baby this summer... and while our "real life" friends (hopefully) already know this, other readers may not have heard the news.

We are waiting until we meet Baby Fig (the current nickname) to find out if we'll have a daughter/sister or son/brother.  So, for those of you who are itching to send us pink or blue items, well... hold onto it a while longer.  I'm not one to decorate a nursery or stock up on a brand-new layette, anyway

I'll admit, not knowing our baby's gender before he or she arrives does raise some interesting challenges.  For instance, we've now used two of our favorite boy names.  The list of potential names seems a bit shorter and more difficult this time around.   Plus, more people seem to have imput this time.  Obi-2 wants to name a baby "Goliath."  Mr. Kenobi likes "Obadiah."  I share this because neither will make the short list!   For fun with current events and biblical trivia, we've told some of our more "red state" friends that we're looking at Judges 4 for names.

Anyway, we won't call our children "Obi" in real life around here.  It is a good bet, however, that Baby Fig will be featured here as "Obi-3," thus continuing on our long and odd tradition on this blog.  If you're wondering why in the world we ever started this tradition, enjoy a little review...

Here's to growth!
-MamaToo

  

beautiful mess

The pressure of writing to "catch up" has kept me from writing at all.  Our life is a wonderful adventure, and sometimes it leaves this mama with more experiences than commentary.  I've also had so much work to do on my computer lately, I just haven't wanted to sit and update the blog.  Oh - but I've wanted to write out my thoughts and memories, as they are so much fun!  So, today I'm sharing a little moment of motherhood that I hope to treasure a while...

Baths, in the Kenobi household, happen at least once a week.  Some families do this ritual daily, but in our house it seems that it's an "as needed" occasion.  The boys have been a little stuffed up lately, so I decided to put them in a steamy bath this morning.  They were less than thrilled with the idea.  Obi-1 and Obi-2, it seems, wanted to do something messy.  Thus, a compromise arose which was entirely fun and photogenic.

I taped pieces of paper to the walls of the bathtub, and got them down to their skivvies before setting them in the (empty) tub.  The hot steam vaporizer was turned on to quickly warm the room, and I filled four plastic bowls with finger paints.  They were a little incredulous that I would let them paint on the walls or in the tub, but quickly and joyously started creating.  While I watched and snapped photos, they painted masterpieces (or at least painted) with increasingly messy hands & environment.

I can be known to be one of those moms who resists messy art projects, because... well... they're messy.  In this case, I embraced it!  By the end, they had filled several pieces of paper with their designs.  We had all laughed and enjoyed the moment.  When the art was cleared, I simply filled the tub with sudsy water & bubbles, gave them two clean washcloths to "clean" the tile, and let them play.  Within moments, everyone (and everything) was sparkly.  


It's ten in the morning, and I'm updating this blog, enjoying a latte and admiring some small things:
1. Squeaky-clean boys before lunch.
2. Boys who can take deep breaths through their nose.
3. Tile and tub that's cleaner than when the day started - and I didn't have to do it.
4. Beautiful pieces of childhood art.
5. Fantastic (mostly unpostable, due to the skivvies) photos of childhood.

Here's what I want to remember about this season of my life:

Sometimes you get discouraged,
because I am so small
And leave my little fingerprints
On furniture and walls.
But everyday I'm growing
And soon will come the day
That all those little fingerprints
Will surely fade away.
So here's a little handprint
Just so you can recall
Exactly how my fingers looked
When I was very small.

(I don't know the author of this poem.  It was on a project I did in nursery school...)

Tuesday, January 6, 2009

pet peeves

I am trying to get our holiday adventures into written form, but in the meantime I had to drop in and say "Happy New Year" to all who are hoping to hear from the Kenobi family.  I also have to tell a story about a simple moment in an otherwise normal day.

We've had a winter wonderland out here in the rain forest, complete with road closures, over a foot of snow, sheets of ice, and other white-Christmasy weather.  There were special all-day news coverage teams, and poor journalism interns standing out in the cold in order to report "live" from somewhere.   There were graphics for the "Arctic Blast 2008" and cancellations of nearly every activity in the city.  Even the yarn shop had to close and change hours - just days before Christmas.  

Needless to say, over the weeks of crazy weather, many local drivers' patience wore thin.  Now that we're back to the predictable rain-and-sunbreaks we all love so much, (sarcasm dripping...) area drivers seem more at ease.

Except, that is, for a gentleman who was creeping along the freeway yesterday as I lined up to merge into traffic.  Many trucks slowly inched their way along in front and behind him, and those of us coming onto the freeway began the search for friendly faces who would actually allow us into the line.  As most drivers do, I concentrated mostly on my own space and opportunity, keeping a side glance on the driver in front and beside me and pacing with the others on the road.

When it came time for my "turn," if you will, I looked out my window to confirm the driver was actually letting me in.  He was not.  As it turns out, he had sped up to wave furiously at me (and anyone else looking).  With both arms (yes, he was determined to make the roads very safe) he admonished clearly that only one car at a time can merge into traffic.  Oops.  In my attempt to merge, I'd nearly made him later to his destination.  It was not my turn.

Evidently, I nearly made a mistake and had tried to merge with the person in front of me (who had not been able to get kindness from the truck in front of us).   This, I suppose, is a fair pet peeve.  However, given the speed of traffic and importance of the 1-at-a-time rule, I felt like my new friend was overreacting a little.   Fortunately, he had kept me from my error, and completed his favor with a hand-gesture lecture.   So, I braked slightly and let him continue on, merging in behind him.

This should have been the end, but he didn't feel I was properly educated.  From the car in front of me, a furious driver continued to lecture with both hands waving to indicate that only one car at a time can merge into traffic!!   "Good grief," I thought.  "I didn't even merge in front of him."  After what seemed like a long time of a driver waving and yelling into his rear view mirror, I finally flashed him an "OK" sign and he seemed satisfied.  

I admit, it wasn't the first sign I thought of flashing, but grace won the day and I smiled with a "please forgive me" attitude while letting him know I'd received the message.  He begrudgingly moved forward (both hands on wheel, finally) and cut off a semi coming up on his left as he lurched past the slower traffic.  Apparently, having to remind me about my driving inadequacies had forced him to inch along much longer than he'd planned to stay in that lane.

I'm sure I wasn't the only one to do this to him yesterday, or in general.  Merging into traffic is not an gift of northwestern drivers.  It bugs my husband, too, that folks tend to do this inefficiently - perhaps even unsafely.  And in case you're wondering, I'm usually good at sticking to the "one at a time" rule.  

This story reminded me something about new years, new opportunities, and new habits.  Perhaps you have a pet peeve.  It could be other drivers, or that coworker beside you, the in-law or family member you love, the person you married, or the child you're raising who offends you today.

Please, on behalf of me and others who make mistakes once in a while, forgive and move on.  It's really not worth a long lecture on the freeway or in the kitchen.  It's not helping that resolution to lower your blood pressure or show more kindness.  It's not valuable enough to hang onto and pull out in the list of things that prove we don't love you enough.  It's simply an annoyance, and here's a little secret: once in a while, you're not perfect, either.

Happy New Year,
MamaToo

Monday, December 8, 2008

elfing around

Update: unfortunately, the elves posting is now unavailable online.  Time to get back to those new year dreams!
-- mamatoo

I always get a giggle from these "elf yourself" creations, as do the boys.  This year jibjab has lots of different dances for the little elves in our lives.  Enjoy...

Another one included sista' K, our dear friend (I like to think of her as my "little sister").  She goes to college nearby, and sometimes even brings her friends when she hangs out with us here.  Sista' K also generously gives us the occasional free babysitting and tries to keeps us in touch with our youth - ha ha!  So, it's fitting that she'd elf around with us - disco style.

neighborly influence

As you might guess from the lack of posts here, I have been quite busy.  In particular, last week was full.  On Friday, Obi-2 & I helped out at Obi-1's school with a "Reading Well."  Basically, the PTA purchases a boat-load of books, and each child in the school is invited to come in and choose one, free of charge, to keep.  My friend was in charge, and nobody signed up to help her all day, so we dropped in and held her new baby while she facilitated the afternoon.  It wasn't very interesting for Obi-2, but he was a trooper and lovely helper for those hours.

By the end of Friday afternoon, I decided the boys (and I) deserved a little celebration.  We headed into our local Italian cafe, which is complete with those beautiful glass-fronted displays of decadent treats.  Obi-2's class had been studying the letter "S" all week, so I offered to get the boys S cookies, which excited them both.  

When we walked in, we were greeted by the incredible smells of fresh bread and pastries, and the smiling face of Grandpa Frank.  Grandpa Frank is the owner's dad, and has recently moved to the rainy northwest from New York.  He is everything sweet about an Italian grandpa, and he loves kids.  Problem is, he always thinks I have girls... and greets them as such.  He's figured out that Obi-1 is a boy, though he always asks me, "Is this a girl or a boy?  I can't tell!"    

No matter how much I hint or correct him, he always greets Obi-2 as a "baby doll" or "cutest little sister" or something similar.  I usually smile, try a couple corrections, and then move on.  On this particular day, however, Grandpa Frank and his friends made it a veritable little Italy in the cafe.  The sights, conversations, and smells just took me to another place, and so we enjoyed the familial feel of the cafe with them. Grandpa Frank took special interest in us, a mom and her two little ones at a table.  He kept complimenting the girls - and when he finally remembered that Obi-1 is a boy, he apologized but complimented his sister, anyway.

We got our "S cookies" and sat down to enjoy a little Mama-boy time.  Then, Grandpa Frank came up to our table.  He looked at me and said, "What are their names again?"  Well, I can't reveal this to you online friends, but let's just say their names are pretty basic, easily pronounced names.  They're not super common names, but they're also not odd inventions or exotic entities, either.

"You people out here have such weird names for kids!  Why don't you just name them something normal?"  Grandpa Frank admonished me for choosing names he couldn't understand.  Then he looked at the boys, especially Obi-1, and said, "Do me a favor, kid.  Next time you come in here, get a proper hair cut. You look like a girl.  You look like your sister!"

At this point, I had to step in.  "Actually, they're both boys, Frank.  Brothers."  He looked at me, looked at Obi-2, and back at me, totally surprised.
  
"You're kidding!  Then he needs a haircut, too!  Geesh, you people need to put labels or something on your kids.  I just embarrassed that boy.  They look like girls." 

No, Grandpa Frank, you didn't embarrass him, but you're starting to push some buttons.  All of this reminds me of my Bampa, who probably would have done exactly the same thing.   Unfortunately, my Bampa died when Obi-1 was a little baby.  He was the last of Mr. Kenobi's & my living grandparents, and so we lost a generation in our families.  My boys' grandpas (our dads) simply cannot get away with the grumpy-old-man routine... partly because they live too far away, and mostly because they're simply too young! 

On the other hand, Grandpa Frank has earned the age to be one of those truly treasured old men in the neighborhood.  The kind who says what he thinks, even if it's not very politically correct.  The kind who tells a 5-year old with beautiful, curly hair that he needs a haircut because he looks like a girl.  The kind who calls a long-haired, surfer-boy 3-year-old that he's a darling little "baby doll."

We all need a Grandpa like that once in a while.  Too much PC, diplomatic talk makes us soft and overly sensitive.  Plus, sometimes we need somebody to be definitive about things.  Grandpa Frank believes boys should have short hair.  Period.  This weekend, my boys got hair cuts.  They were due, and it is time to let go of the toddler locks and trim it almost above their ears.  It's not a buzz cut, and some will say they still look a little girlish, but it's cut nonetheless.

They got to watch "The Grinch" while I trimmed & cut inches - inches! - of curls from their head.  Obi-1 commented as I went, "You're kind of like the grinch, Mama, cause you're taking all my hair!"  He wasn't upset, however.  He was ready to have a cut, and thrilled to watch a movie on a Saturday morning.  I, of course, felt a twinge of loving sadness that can only be delivered by a Grandpa.  It was hard to see the curls fall, but they always grow back.  By next summer, they can be surfer boys again.

And in the meantime, Grandpa Frank (and my brother, and many others who've commented on my long-haired hippie boys) will be pleased. 

o christmas tree

O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
How hungry are your branches!
Yes, how hungry are your branches.  Thus begins a wonderful season in our life - where children make up words to holiday songs, and we all sing them together.  Obi-2 was singing this with gusto the other day, and Obi-1 chimed in, and they cannot be convinced that the lyrics are about anything but a hungry tree.  You will probably have this version stuck in your head every time you drive past a tree lot or see your lights sparkle on your home's hungry evergreen branches.

The thing is, our tree is technically not hungry... because it's fake.  This, all by itself, requires much discussion in our home.  As "fake" means "pretend," and clearly it's not a "pretend" tree, because it's standing right there!  I tried explaining that it's "pretend" in that it's not "real" or "live," but was quickly asked why a cut tree is considered "live," as it's really not connected to its roots, anymore.

So, our Christmas tree is pretending to be hungry.  Which reminds me - there is actually a lot of hunger this time of year, in spite of the fact that many of us gain cookie pounds and temporarily satisfy our appetites for stuff.  Consider pulling out a little of your holiday budget, and give to somebody who doesn't know you & may not recognize your gift.   Isn't that the idea of Christmas - a gift, undeserved, to those who did not know the Giver?  Better yet, don't just do it this month - pull a little aside throughout the next year, and find a way to be a gift to the hungry.

Then sing with us in joy & gladness: 
O Christmas Tree, O Christmas Tree,
How hungry are your branches!