Trapped at Target

A couple of Sundays ago, Kirby begged that I take him shopping for spring clothes. Of course, typically, I don't have to be begged to shop -I barely even have to be asked- but coming from Kirby, it is no simple request. Shopping with Kirby requires very little money but mass amounts of patience and a generous dose of "live and let live". His critical eye misses nothing, his taste never changes, and his opinions may not be swayed.

It was the day after our St. Patty's day celebration and I distinctly remember being in desperate need of a nap. Instead we headed to Target, just the two of us, on a hunt for plaid shorts and coordinating collared shirts.

He took several items to the dressing room, all a size smaller than he needed, but Kirby doesn't like anything baggy or "sloppy", style be damned!

This is one of those times when I must make a choice: allow my eldest to annoy the coffee out of me OR choose to be amused.
Choose and amuse rhyme, see? That is my little trick for remembering the right answer. Why shouldn't a 13-year-old wear a size 8/10? If it makes him happy, it can't be that bad.

So Kirby opens the dressing room door and is wearing what appears to be a totally acceptable ensemble. So far, so good. But THEN, oh then, he does a series of yoga moves that I myself am not yet skilled enough to attempt. Each move is accompanied by a complaint along the lines of "oh no, the sleeves feel tight when I do this" (with both arms behind his back and almost over his head) or "don't these shorts seem way too big when I move my legs like this?" (full squat with one leg off the ground). Never mind that his days are either spent sitting at a desk or hunched over a bowl of cereal.

Clothing choices are finally made and Kirbs seems happy, but before we can pay for our items, the manager announces over the intercom that the city's tornado sirens are signaling a need for safety and everyone in the store must meet in the Electronics department for further instructions.

THIS is my personal hell: shopping with Kirby in the midst of a tornado.
I think Celine Dion was singing that Titanic song in the background as well.

The mass of shoppers is instructed to file into the back warehouse of the Target store. So I, along with about a hundred new friends and a boy who currently keeps all of his favorite things locked in a bin in our basement for situations just like this, am crammed into a concrete storage room and asked to wait.

I should also mention here that I am clutching three plastic yard flamingos. They were the last three in the store and I didn't want to leave them in the cart for fear they'd get hoisted. And the flamingos weren't for me, but the school....
But that's a whole other post.

Kirby is surprisingly calm. He uses his phone to track the weather, estimates when the storm may pass, and texts his Dad his last wishes, bequeathing most of his worldly possessions to his little brother.

I spend the time in lock up giving comforting looks to the very pregnant lady sitting on the concrete floor across from me. I decide that I've read enough about childbirth to safely bring her baby into the world if and when her labor begins. Kirby's shirt is very clean so I'll use that to wrap up the happy, cooing newborn. The new mom will be so overjoyed that she'll probably want to name the child after me. And then Elvis Costello will most likely send us both congratulatory notes and dedicate to us his next performance of 'Alison'.

But alas, after only twenty minutes and no labor pains, the doors are opened and we step out into the florescent lights of aisle 13. The boy requests a milkshake and we risk our lives once again in making our way to Steak n Shake.

He thanked me several times over his Frisco Melt for taking him shopping and for his new clothes. There was no mention of his yoga, my flamingos, or our possible peril.

AL

Birthday Boy

Hmm, what to say about my Max...

He tells me thank you every morning when I pour him a bowl of cereal and he always puts his bowl in the sink when he's done.

He almost always manages to dig deep for a reserve supply of patience for Lilah when the rest of us are bone dry.

If he sees that I'm unhappy or frustrated, he actually asks what he can do to help.

And he's eleven years old today.

Happy Birthday, Max!
(You're kinda my favorite at the moment)

AL

Soak Up the Sun

Sheryl Crow wants to "tell everyone to lighten up".

I risk both bored readers and a serious self jinx by going on about the weather again, but it refuses to be ignored.
Yesterday, it was the same temperature in Marysville as in Jacksonville!
Of course the rarity here makes it much more appreciated.

And the flowers~ they're all blooming their little hearts out. The grass turned from brown to green overnight and is so pleasantly spongy.

I'm almost frantic to enjoy it.

I can't be bothered with inside chores and Wednesday I didn't even turn on my computer until after 8pm. Meals consist of sandwiches and grapes, hummus and pita, or peanut butter and apples. All windows have stayed open around the clock and fresh daffodils are brought in daily for the dining room table.

Lilah and I are back in our summertime uniform of concert tees and comfy skirts. Well, technically, she plans to alternate her Yellow Submarine tee with her Star Wars tee - all summer. I have no problem with this.

Yesterday we traveled from park to park.
As you can see, though, my pink moccasins and I were always a few steps behind.

She's like a tiny tornado of chattering activity... drawing in everyone and everything in her path - most notably friendly dog-walkers.

She's sunshine in a travel size.







AL

Wishing you a lovely Monday~

Thinking of Popsy today during his heart maintenance surgery. I'm sure the doctors will take extra care, as his ticker is truly one of the best.

Here's hoping he's hitting on nurses in no time!

Love
AL

Happy St. Patty's Day!

This is Max but Kirby looked equally ridiculous.

Besides awesome argyles, we dyed some white headbands green for Saturday's soccer games/practices and we set up a leprechaun trap involving an upturned laundry basket held open by a stick and a trail of Lucky Charm marshmallows (idea from Pinterest).

I hope we catch one.

AL

Thought Chain:: Boots

Kirby received those boots from a good friend in Ormond Beach on his 4th birthday.
Which makes them almost a decade old.
Which makes Kirby a teenager.
Which makes me old.

But I'm proud that I managed to keep up with those boots.
Proud of that pretty little girl.
And proud that Jer and I survived being broke with a toddler and a colicky baby in a 400 square foot house.

AL

Mama Said There'd Be Days Like This...

I may have mentioned this before, but don't you think it's possible that every sentiment in life can be expressed with a song lyric?

While working on vocabulary earlier, Kirby stumbled on the word 'glib' and I tried to explain it by singing 'Smooth Operator' by Sade. He was still confused.
It doesn't help that those are the only two decipherable words in the song.

Also recently, I was waiting in a store somewhere when a older gentleman casually commented on the weather. Instantly, a Randy Travis line elbowed its way into my brain and settled in. All week I've been humming "...as long as old men sit and talk about the weather, as long as old women sit and talk about old men..."

(And since you asked, the weather has been rather nice. A couple of amazing sun-shiny days and a couple of rainy ones too -- all appropriate spring behavior. Pretty exciting.)

Today, well today was a cloudy one, and from about 3 pm onward, things did not swing my way. The music in my head was unsettling and angry - early nineties head banging stuff.
Not very Zen.
Kirby's illogical anxieties paired with Max's careless attitude regarding schoolwork, topped off by Lilah's incessant and disrespectful requests resulted in a general feeling of complete defeat. I was patient to a point and then, well, the balloon burst, the volcano erupted, the lid flipped.
The shit was lost.
And they went down one by one. Don't worry, no kids were harmed in the unraveling of this woman; there was simply an inexcusable amount of yelling (my throat still hurts a little) and a banishing to different areas of the house, which were then rotated based on need/vacancy/etc.

(I attempted to lock myself in my bedroom with the Girl Scout cookies, but wouldn't you know that Lilah figured out the lock within ten minutes. She is nothing if not persistent.)

At the end of the day, though, as lights were turned out and covers pulled up; as I kissed them each good night, I assured them that my love is unconditional and that the morning will bring a fresh start.

I think only one child still truly hates me.

But as Meatloaf says, "Two out of three ain't bad."

AL

Two Shows in One

We Brennans are enjoying a small respite from sports, as basketball is over and soccer just beginning. So this weekend, we took advantage, with loads of lounging, TV watching, and general lying about.
At noon on Sunday, I realized that Li was absorbed in the same Scooby Doo movie that she watched only the day before. This was the signal that our good thing was on the verge of 'too much'.

I checked my Columbus Parent magazine and decided that the two of us should head downtown for the 2pm showing of Seussical the Musical at the Palace Theater. We were a bit late considering the drive, finding parking, the ticket line and, well, mostly the fact that it takes Li a good 40 minutes to get dressed. (I can hear you laughing from here Mom. And it's not funny!) She ended up in a green dress with purple sweatpants underneath.

It was absolutely worth it. The theater is breathtakingly beautiful and the show was the perfect balance of silly and meaningful. The talent was exceptional, between the writing, the costumes, the music and dancing -- but that wasn't what made me teary. And let me tell you, I was embarrassingly teary.

It was the separate performance that was happening in a corner just below the stage. It was the four ladies signing the play for the hearing impaired children in the audience.
There was so much happening onstage, yet the ladies interpreted it astonishingly, each taking on a character or chorus and interacting with each other as in the story. During the songs, their movements were perfectly timed and so well rehearsed, their faces portraying the emotions expressed. Like urban hula dancers telling a story with their arms, their bodies, and their faces. The sincerity of it all completely brought me to tears.
I was mesmerized.

At the end of the show, after the final bow, the onstage cast directed the audience's attention to that corner just below the stage so that the ladies in black could accept some much-deserved applause.
That's when Lilah informed me that I was clapping too loudly. Right in her ear!
She's lucky I didn't hoot and holler.

And yes, Li enjoyed the show as well. At least I think she did. She definitely enjoyed her roll of LifeSavers, pictured below.



AL

Rockin' the Man Scarf

It seems that Kirby is due for a post, and so I dug out this picture from about a month ago.
I thought to share it then but hesitated due to worry over the encroachment of teen privacy.
Eh... I'm past that now.



There are a few things I'd like to point out:
First, isn't he handsome?
Sad, though, that he no longer poses and I can only snap pictures of him by sneaking into our office on my knees.

Second, that highlighter hat he bought for himself on his school trip to DC. He also bought a matching yellow one for Max, a pink one for Li - so sweet and so practical.
So Kirby.

Lastly, the reason for my post title: the green scarf. That scarf was a handmade Christmas gift from his girlfriend.

A handmade Christmas gift!

Not sure whose idea it was (not mine, I promise), but the two teens made a pact to create rather than spend. Kirby had trouble coming up with something for her, eventually deciding on a homemade hula hoop. He measured, cut and connected the sturdy piping and then covered it with decorative duct tape.
(Idea inspired by Elizabeth Mitchell's video here. She also makes beautiful kids music, by the way.)

I drove Kirby to the park on a very cold day in early January for their planned gift exchange. Naturally, Kirby's gift to her was not wrapped and as he passed it to her, he said, "It's a hula hoop." And then she said, in an amused but kind voice, "Is it really?!"

Needless to say, I approve. All of it! I love it all.

AL

Jer calls her Chatty Kathy

Lilah wakes up and immediately has lots to say. And I mean LOTS. Immediately.
This behavior continues throughout the day.

She's also not shy. Not even a little bit. Never.
So it was only a matter of time before this combination of characteristics posed a problem at school.

Here is a transcript of one of my many conversations with Lilah on Wednesday, after picking her up from preschool at lunchtime:

Me: "How was school, Li?"

Li: "Well, good. Except me and Lily got in trouble and had to sit out during gym. We were talking during story time and we didn't stop."

Me: "Why were you talking instead of listening to Ms. Lisa?"

Li: "We couldn't help it! Lily is really scared of spiders and I am really really scared of spiders, too!"

Me (feeling sympathetic): "Oh! Was there a spider on the carpet?! I probably would have made a noise, too!"

Li: "No, we didn't see a spider. We were reading a book about a spider."

Me (now annoyed): "Lilah, were you reading about the Itsy-Bitsy Spider?"

Li (with a big smile): "Yes! Isn't it soo scary?!"



To quote a 1960s TV commercial for the Chatty Kathy doll:
"Just pull the string; you never know what she'll say next."

AL

In honor of Ted Geisel

Caution: May not be suitable for grandmas.
OR they may love it, as I do.

I do know that there are some aspects that Dad will really enjoy. wink



Because, to quote Michael Franti, "All the freaky people make the beauty of the world."

Happy Birthday, Dr. Seuss!
AL