a brush with celebrity

liam's selection in the "what we're reading" sidebar on the right  hasn't changed at all in the past few months.  we discovered the Magic Tree House series last fall after hearing lots of friends with older children rave about them, and picked up the first book, dinosaurs before dark, at the library one rainy afternoon.  he could not put it down.  literally.  his eyes were glued to those pages all the way through the parking lot, in the car on the drive home, and for twenty minutes after we pulled into the driveway.  he sat in his car seat and finished the entire 60-page book before he even unbuckled himself to get out.  he was transfixed (and, suddenly, a dinosaur expert.)

since then, he's voraciously worked his way through about thirty more titles in the series.  mary pope osbourne, the author, keeps churning out more adventures of the brother and sister duo of jack and annie, as they magically travel through time in their tree house.  the author's sister has joined the family business and writes companion "research guides" that are non-fiction supplements to the stories for anyone who yearns to learn even more information than is contained in the novels.

with liam having been such an independent reader for a few years now, it's sometimes easy for me to forget that there's still a lot of benefit to me reading aloud to him.  so one night a few weeks ago, i picked up his current book and was immediately reminded of just how educational this series can be.  as i read, it made mention of william shakespeare, so i paused to explain to him who william shakespeare was.  "oh, i know him," liam interrupted.  "he was in book number twenty-five.  he wrote these plays in england a long time ago.  one of them had fairies in it and was about a dream or something."  [i'm a little rusty on brit lit, but i'm pretty sure he's referring to a midsummer night's dream, no?] 

so when one of our local bookstores hosted mary pope osborne and her sister for a book signing, i knew we had to be there.  it pains me to ever buy a book -- i'm an ardent believer in reading books FOR FREE through the library -- but this was one instance when i felt like my money was well-spent.  she entertained the crowd by explaining how she had come up with the whole idea, shared where jack and annie might be traveling next, and even solicited suggestions for future topics.  liam sat on the floor a few feet away absolutely mesmerized.  and then -- he could barely believe it -- he actually got to meet her (and her sister) face-to-face.  there will be days in his future when meeting a famous athlete, or actor, or musician will be one of the highlights of his life, but for now, i'm thankful that meeting an author thrills him so.

p.s.  isn't it refreshing that a woman who's sold close to 100 million books can still dress like she, well, hasn't sold close to 100 million books?  :)

wordless wednesday

spring has sprung!  susanna proved to have quite the green thumb, working in the dirt for hours to help chris plant flowers.

it's remarkable that the dirt didn't bother our little prisspot.  but of course, she refused to wear anything grungy to do her work.  seems that in order to garden, large hairbows and plastic beaded necklaces are required.

one thing that definitely did bother her was the worm that liam had to horn in with.  his face = elation.  hers = disgust.  pesky older brother.

top dog

we had the pleasure of taking care of my parents' black lab, omni, for a few days last week while they were out of town.  he's fourteen years old, almost totally deaf, and sure takes his own sweet time while relieving himself in the woods.  and don't even get me started on the tufts of dog hair that are forming tumbleweeds in every corner of our house.

but one perk to dog-sitting is that omni retrieves the newspaper each morning from the end of the driveway and delivers it at our feet.  chris was explaining this to susanna last sunday over breakfast.  "on a rainy day like this," chris said, "isn't it so nice that omni will go out and get the paper for us?"

"how does he know how to do that?" she asked.  the only trick super knows is how to quickly jump off the couch when she realizes she's been caught, so susanna was obviously a bit confused.

"well, pops trained omni.  he showed him how to pick up the paper with his mouth and bring it back."

"oh," she said, and still seemed confused.  "does pops get the paper with his mouth too?"

wordless wednesday

in honor of st. patrick's day, liam's class held an "Eating of the Greens" party.  the kids came up with a list of green foods they like to eat, and parents were asked to bring in a few for the big event.  on the list were the usual suspects: grapes, kiwi, green doughnuts, avocados.  but also included were some surprises: edamame, brussel sprouts, celery, and snow peas.  (seriously.  some kid in liam's class actually requested brussel sprouts.)

liam's teacher instructed all the children to use the four sections of their paper plates to make a four-leaf clover.  on three of the leaves, they could choose any food they wanted; but on the fourth, they were to choose something they had never eaten before, or, at least, something they didn't normally eat.  i was super excited about the prospect of liam venturing forth and trying a new veggie.  peer pressure at its best!

i was on the other side of the classroom helping a child with a spill when liam loaded his plate, so i didn't know what new food he had chosen until he was asked to share it with the class.  liam proudly announced that he had chosen the rainbow jello.  ("my mommy never makes rainbow jello!" he explained.)

here's to culinary adventurousness!

off-putting

one of our children is a morning person.  the other is not.  here's a glimpse into the screenplay of our lives to help you figure out who's who.

ACT I, SCENE 1

it's 7:30 on a friday morning in the mann house.  liam and chris have finished their breakfast, while sara is just waking up and susanna is still asleep.  chris is brushing his teeth in preparation for leaving for work.  liam has his plastic putter in hand, quietly practicing golf in the upstairs hallway. 

the door to susanna's room opens.  susanna emerges, eyes adjusting to the light and her hands on her hips.

SUSANNA:  liam, what are you DOING?

LIAM (stopping mid-swing):  good morning susanna!  i'm practicing golf.

SUSANNA:  well, you need to go downstairs to practice golf.  your ball keeps hitting my door and it woke me up. it is too early for me to be up.  i'm going back to bed.

susanna sighs dramatically, returns to her room, and shuts the door.

END OF SCENE

wordless wednesday

when the temperature hit a balmy 72 degrees yesterday, i couldn't help but feeling like we were finally, finally, finally nearing the end of The Longest Winter in Recorded History.   as soon as we parked the car in the driveway after preschool, the kids beelined it to the yard and never looked back.  i brought out our lunch and we picnicked in the grass, spreading out on the same turquoise comforter that i bought with my freshman year roommate in 1992.  (can you believe that chris has no such cute coordinating comforter from his college days?)

some highlights of our springtime afternoon:

susanna and one of her three babydolls, who were mandatory participants in our first picnic of the season.

super was so shocked to see the warm sun that she lay on her back and stared skyward all afternoon.  she's the weirdest dog.  

funny how just a few months ago i might have captioned this picture as "the future tiger woods" ...

back (-up) to the drawing board

oh technology, how i love thee and loathe thee at the same time.

our public library system has recently rolled out an amazing new offering: online audio books, able to be downloaded to your computer and then transferred to your ipod or mp3 player, for free.  i mulled over how useful it would be for me personally and decided that i myself wouldn't really benefit from it; when i work out, i'd rather listen to music, and i'm never in the car alone for long enough to get through even a chapter or two at a time.  BUT i figured it would be such a cool thing to have for the kids.  susanna might get a kick out of hearing john lithgow reading dr. seuss on the computer.  and liam would really enjoy wearing some headphones and following along in one of his magic tree house books while listening to the author.

so i downloaded a few titles, but then had no idea how to transfer them to my iphone.  i enlisted my far more tech-savvy husband to help ... and that's when things went awry.

i've had this iphone for seven months now and had always wondered why it came with that computer cord.  i had no idea i was supposed to be connecting it to this itunes store thingy for software updates.  which means that i also had no idea that i was supposed to be backing up my phone.  i'm sure you can see where this is going.

so when chris linked my phone to the computer in order to transfer these audio book files, the itunes store thingy almost started smoking, reeling from the number of software updates i'd missed over the past seven months.  and then, POOF.  gone.  out in the ethernet somewhere is floating all of my contacts, my apps, my music, my text messages, my audio files, and -- gulp -- my pictures.  by the time my phone had finished flashing its glaring error message (we're still not quite sure what happened), the only thing left were the basic icons that come when you purchase it.

and this is when i realized how reliant i've become on this little gem of a device.  i couldn't get in touch with ANYONE, since the only phone number i have memorized is my parents'.  i had no idea what i needed to get at the grocery.  (months ago, i downloaded this grocery list app and organized it to mirror the aisles of my grocery store -- by taking a picture of each aisle overhead sign.  so geeky, i know, but man is it fun to go shopping now.)  i couldn't remember what the URL was to check my work e-mail.  dismay set in when i realized i cannot now prove my prowess on the game of bejeweled by showing off my amazingly high score record.  and, most importantly, all these sweet pictures of the kids doing whatever they do day in and day out had vanished.  (hence no wordless wednesday this week.)

it was a sad, sad day for sara mann.  and literally just now as i began to wind down this post, my e-mail just popped up with a new message from the wake county public library system: "reminder!  your digital title is now available for download!" 

i think i'll go actually read dr. seuss to susanna myself.  take that, technology.

and maybe later on today, i'll get around to figuring out this back-up thing.  where's that cord again?

the wedding planner

"i know who i'm going to marry," liam said one afternoon as he helped me put away his clean laundry.

"oh really?" i replied.  i thought of the cute little girls in his preschool class and wondered if he might have his first crush.  "who might that be?"

"susanna."

hmm.  i hadn't quite seen that one coming.  "well, that's a really nice thought," i said, "but you're actually not allowed to marry anyone in your family."

he laughed.  "that's so silly, mommy!  you married daddy, and you're both in our family."

he had me there.  my reasoning obviously needed some work.

he picked up a pair of socks to put in his drawer.  "i mean, we have fun together, and we love each other, and she always laughs at my knock-knock jokes," he explained.  "yep, susanna's the one for me."

and i realized that his reasoning made a whole lot more sense, at least to a five-year old, than mine did.  and i left it at that.

wordfull wednesday

chris and spent five glorious days on a cruise to the bahamas a few weeks back ... and the following two pictures are the only ones i took the whole time we were there.  which is perhaps the most pitiful statement i have made in 2010.  i'm sure you'll agree.

this first one wasn't even technically on the cruise -- it was standing in line at the x-ray machine to board the ship.  there were two couples standing a few feet away dressed in their matching outfits.  you can see the super cool man pretty well, decked out in his tropical button-down shirt, coordinating pants, and white hospital shoes.  the two women in front of him are a bit harder to see, but one has a skirt made out of the same tropical print fabric, and the other woman has on a matching dress.  the second husband didn't make the cut (i did the best i could, trying to be discreet while holding up my iphone in the air), but he was there, completing the ensemble.  i immediately sent it to my best friend lainey, promising her that in twenty years, this would be us.

the second picture is of the "towel art" our steward left on our bed one evening.  quite appropriate since elephants are my favorite animal.  (i've had a soft spot in my heart for elephants since i was like two, when my great-grandmother wrote my mom a letter, urging her to take me to the doctor because my ears were so big.  the letter is tucked in my baby book -- my mom discarded much of our sentimental mementos from growing up, so it's nice to know she held on to the important things.)

the next cruise we're on, we're bringing our real camera and taking pictures of things we'd actually like to frame.  in the meantime, i guess the tropical print threesome will have to take center stage in our family room picture collection.

the little things in life

for the life of me, i will never understand what excites my children (and, for that matter, what doesn't.)  for example, a few months ago both liam and susanna had friends over to play.  i was getting ready to make lunch, and simply grabbed a notepad to jot down what they wanted. 

they were so thrilled that you would have thought that elmo himself had become incarnate and walked through our front door.  so i rolled with it, hamming it up as Waitress Sara, going over the day's specials, side items, beverage choices, and dessert offerings.  i then showed the foursome to the kitchen table, served them their meals, and made sure their every need was met.  (which is pretty much what every mom does day in and day out anyway, just without a made-up accent and hastily-scribbled nametag.)

for days afterwards, they pleaded for Waitress Sara to return.  worried that the novelty would quickly wear off, i informed them that Waitress Sara only works for big tips, and a party of four was the minimum required to lure her out of retirement. it was, all around, a huge hit.   

now, compare that to yesterday.  that afternoon my parents had just offered us a week's stay in orlando sometime next winter, and i couldn't wait to share the news with the kids that we're finally biting the bullet and planning a trip to DISNEYWORLD.

susanna immediately began jumping up and down and clapping.  but liam -- well, liam sat there, morosely, before shaking his head.  "no thank you," he said.

umm ... huh?

"liam, you'll love disneyworld!  why do you not want to go?"

"well," he replied, obviously scrambling for a reason in his head.  "well, disneyworld is in florida.  so we'd have to drive through north carolina AND south carolina AND georgia AND florida to get there." 

after saying a silent thank you to God for giving my son a gift of geography that i do not possess, i explained, "we'll probably split up the drive halfway.  i was thinking that we could stay with aunt mary in atlanta."

aunt mary is liam's favorite great-aunt, mostly because she owns a wii.  "oh!  great!"  he beamed.  and then, "but can i just stay in atlanta while you and daddy take susanna to disneyworld?"

determined to get to the bottom of whatever issue was behind his lack of enthusiasm, i delved deeper.  "but liam, we'll have the best time!  you know that so many of your friends have already gone, and they've all loved it."

"but i like to play," he responded.  and now i was really confused.  "i mean, i just don't want to go down there and watch those movies in the dark."

and finally, i understood.  our poor son equated disneyWORLD with disney MOVIES.  he thought that we'd be driving down to florida to sit in some big movie theater and watching disney movies all week.  (if you couldn't tell by now, liam absolutely detests movies of any kind.  i blame "up" for that.  dadgum pixar.)

so we spent the next half-hour perusing the disneyworld website, clicking on their interactive map and oohing and aahing at pictures of the rides, shows, parades, fireworks, characters ... he was actually smiling at the end, and i felt much better about starting to plan this vacation.  chris got home shortly thereafter, and i called him upstairs.  "we've got some exciting news for you!" i said.  "kids, why don't you tell daddy what it is?"

liam ran up to him, about to burst.  "guess what!"  he exclaimed.  "susanna's having a playdate tomorrow and so am i ... so mommy's going to be our WAITRESS!"

geography

geography is not my strong suit.  anyone who knows me well knows that.  it was only recently that i learned that the kazakhstan in the movie "borat" is an actual country.  but still, i don't blame my poor geography skills on the almost-debacle that occurred surrounding our trip to the bahamas.  and since i'm overdue for a  long blogpost, i'll warn you right now that you're in for a doozy.

so let me back up.  last monday at this time, chris and i were aboard "the monarch of the seas", sipping long island iced teas while watching the sun set.  but the monday prior to that, i was beginning one of the worst weeks in recent memory.  we were still staring at five inches of snow on the ground, which, in north carolina, is perfect reason to shut down school for four days.  and let me just explain to you the havoc that ensued because of this.  not only were the kids absolutely climbing the walls after being stuck in the house for days on end, but i wasn't able to accomplish anything.  i had given up on completing any errands or appointments as soon as the first snowflakes began to fall.  but the afternoon i walked into susanna's room to see both of my children's suitcases emptied with the contents strewn all over the floor while they gleefully sat in them instead -- after i had carefully packed six days' worth of clothing for them for their stay with their grandparents -- well, let's just say it was not my most shining moment as a parent.

and work?  don't get me started about work.  i had spent HOURS drawing up sub plans for the week i was going to miss, complete with powerpoint presentations, warm-ups, online activities, homework solutions, games, a test ... and then watched almost all of it become unusable as we missed day after day of school.  i mean, my sub couldn't very well give a test on operations with integers when my students had missed the lessons on how to subtract, multiply, and divide.  i found myself back at square one (although not really, since we also hadn't had an opportunity to discuss exponents ... get it?  SQUARE one?) and worked into the wee hours one night just to get everything in order for the second time.  with the lack of sleep, i had two petit mal seizures leaving me nauseous and with an excruciating headache.  needless to say, i was even more ready for this upcoming vacation than i'd ever been in my life.

and so friday rolls around -- three days before we are to leave -- and i'm printing out boarding passes, confirming plane seat assignments, and taking care of all the last-minute details.  we'd planned on grabbing a taxi from the airport to the ship, but i wasn't sure how much time to allow.  i went to mapquest for directions, and the following result came up:

3 hours and 28 minutes.

i stared at it, dumbfounded.  and then i panicked.  i yelled to chris in the other room.  "chris!  it says it's going to take us over 3 hours to get from airport to the ship!"

always the voice of reason, he replied, "are you sure you don't have it set on walking directions?"

with the last glimmer of hope, i turned back to the screen.  but there it was, mocking me in its big bold font: 212 miles.  3 hours 28 minutes.  and then, just to rub it in my face, there was a big colorful florida map, with hundreds of miles on I-95 highlighted.

i'm embarrassed to say that i kind of lost it at that point.  i just wanted to crawl under a rock -- preferably one with no snow on top -- and wake up with the aforementioned long island iced tea in hand watching the aforementioned sunset on the aforementioned boat.

alas, i opened my eyes and still found myself in front of the same frustrating computer screen.  i got to work on plan B, and, four hours later, had finally come up with a solution.  of course, with three days' notice, i couldn't find a flight into orlando, or a ship out of miami.  so our only option was to rent a car and drive the three and a half hours down the coast (or up?  at this point i still don't know).  luckily, we'd booked such an early flight that we knew we'd have no trouble making it to the ship by boarding time.  the trip back home was another story -- we missed our flight and wound up sitting in the miami airport for nine hours -- but we made it home at midnight.  safe and sound.  on a runway coated with a fresh four inches of snow, of course.

BUT ... for the record, just in case anyone cares ... i've determined how this all happened, and, much like a five year old child, i'd like to assert that it was NOT MY FAULT.   when i retraced my steps, this is what i found:  if you book a cruise through royal caribbean, and in the process choose miami as the port you wish to use, you will find that port canaveral comes up as a "nearby" port.  some whackjob who designed that site is probably having a good laugh right now, amused at the thought of the number of people he could screw over by classifying a 3+ hour drive as NEARBY.

the irony is, despite my geographical shortcomings, i actually did know that cape canaveral isn't near miami.  i've been down to disneyworld enough times in my life to know that cape canaveral is outside of orlando.  but it didn't say cape canaveral.  it said port canaveral.  and before you roll your eyes at my foolishness, let me just remind you that i live in north carolina, where the town of wake forest is exactly two hours away from wake forest university.  (good piece of trivia to know if you're not from around here.  comes up in jeopardy from time to time.) 

so, lessons learned: one, wait until the very last minute before working on sub plans.  two, don't give small children easy access to packed suitcases.  three, quadruple check yourself before booking flights and cruises.  four, hunt down the guy who thinks 212 miles classifies as "nearby" and have a little chat with him as to what that word actually means.

and five, have another long island iced tea and forget it ever happened.

passing the buck

you all know that despite his most valiant efforts, liam did not receive a wii for christmas.  however, santa did offer him a small peace offering in the form of a nintendo DS, a handheld individual electronic game that's all the rage among the 5-9 year old crowd.  he's allowed to play for twenty minutes a day, and the kitchen timer we set to remind him to shut it down always comes too soon.  he loves it, and for those twenty minutes he's so completely focused on that little screen and pushing those little buttons that i swear a fire truck could come crashing through our house and he wouldn't even look up.  so i try to remind myself of the studies that show that the fine motor skills gained on these kinds of devices help in future professions like physicians.  (i'll admit that the article showcases that dadgum wii.  seems the mann family is being held captive to this elusive wii dream from which we will never escape.)

the only problem with this nintendo DS is that it's proving to be a constant battle to remind him to assume responsibility of the thing.  he'll forget to put the stylus back in the slot, or he'll leave a game cartridge out on the counter, or the case will be discarded on the floor, or he'll forget to charge the battery.

i picked up the charging station the other day and realized with dismay that the USB port had been damaged, rendering it pretty much useless.  it doesn't actually affect the functionality of the device itself, since you can charge it up directly, but it does show how he's really not caring for the most expensive thing he owns.  i held it up and asked him what had happened.

"i dunno," he said, perplexed.

now, let me interject here to say that i really don't think he realized he had damaged it.  his little five-year old fingers probably just tried to cram in the cord in the wrong direction, he figured it out, and remedied his solution.  i'm almost certain it wasn't intentional.  but just as i was about to rebuke him gently while showing him exactly what had gone wrong, he looked over at super, who was right at our feet like she always is, and said, "i think super probably did it."

"huh?" super and i chimed in together.  (well, that's the response she conveyed, with her ears cocked and her head tilted with a confused look.)  super hasn't even mastered the command "roll over".  ain't no way our slightly-low-level canine has suddenly taken up Mario Golf as a new pastime.

so then he tried a different approach.  "maybe ... maybe another kid did it."

"come on, liam.  there's no way that happened.  when your friends come over, y'all run around outside and play baseball in the yard, and on cold days you build things with your legos -- you don't even get out the DS.  the only person who plays it is you."

my soliloquy obviously fell on deaf ears, because he was still steamrolling ahead with his ridiculous explanation.  "yeah.  i think another kid did it.  i think santa gave the DS to another kid for christmas -- probably in australia where christmas starts earlier than here, and where they speak english and have the letters 'D' and 'S' -- and that kid messed it up, and santa got mad that he wasn't taking care of it and he took it back and wrapped it up and gave it to me instead."

new course offering:  Passing the Buck 101, by Instructor William J. Mann, II.  spaces limited due to the physical constraints of his 12x12 playroom.  enrollment starts tomorrow.  fees will help support the Liam Mann Wii Fund.  discount available to someone who can fix a broken DS charger.

wordless wednesday

snow!  five inches of beautiful, soft, white powder.  (i try to be somewhat positive on this blog.  so i won't get started on how we've been housebound for five days now.  suffice it to say that we've had LOTS of family bonding.) 

and THIS is what you do after the snow has turned to slush and you're still stuck at home:

dashed dreams

i am a pageant junkie.  if it's televised, i will watch it: miss usa, miss america, miss universe -- i love them all.  the invention of the DVR has only enhanced my pageant love, because it enables me to instantly replay all the cringe-worthy moments.  you might not realize that for the past two years, miss usa has fallen during the evening gown competition in the miss universe pageant.  (and i'm not talking about a small stumble.  i mean a full-fledged plummet to the ground, with her sparkly high heels up in the air above her.)  a dropped baton during the talent competition is always fun to see again.  but the best?  no doubt about it: the interview portion.  i'm not sure i've ever gotten through an entire pageant without having to pause and rewatch least one inane answer.  you'd think these girls would be able to think on their feet after so much training.  but year after year, they seem to know that there is a sara mann in north carolina, eagerly awaiting an absolutely absurd response to a question on some hot-button topic.  (anyone remember when miss teen south carolina, who was asked why a fifth of americans can't find the united states on a world map, responded that we needed to "help the iraq to build up our future"?)

i'm not typically this cynical.  but it doesn't take a trip to the therapist's couch to figure out why i delight in others' misfortune.  one year, when i was probably eight or nine years old, my eyes were wide as i soaked in all the pomp and circumstance of miss america.  it was really one of the highlights of my year -- growing up, we were allowed only one half-hour of television a week, so to be allowed to watch a two-hour special and stay up past our bedtime was a very big deal.  i confided in my parents that my plan, once i was of age, was to be a triple threat in the talent competition: i was going to compose my own song, sing it, and play it on the piano.  there was no way i could lose!  i began thinking about what color gown i'd wear and how i'd fix my hair.

and then, it happened. my father -- my loving, nurturing, supportive father -- dashed my little girl dreams.  "sorry, honey," he told me.  "you've got freckles.  i think there's a rule against having freckles in the pageant business."

just like that, my miss america aspirations came to a screeching halt.  i cried myself to sleep that night.  he doesn't even remember saying it, and, looking back on it, i realize that it was obviously a joke.  but at the time, i was devastated.

and so i grew up to enjoy pageants for an entirely different reason.  they're entertaining in so many other ways, from dissecting the dress choices, to wincing at missed notes (seems everyone thinks they can sing these days), to laughing outloud at the awkward banter between mario lopez and whatever ex-miss america winds up sharing co-hosting duties.  you can bet i'll be tuned in tonight as 53 hopefuls vie for the crown.

and as always, i'll be peering closely, thankful that we invested in our HD television.  for the clarity sure makes it easier for me to search for any trace of freckles.

wordless wednesday

you might remember that my dad wrote his own children's book which was published last year.  (here's the post about it; and here's his website.)  he had his first official book reading a few weeks ago in liam's class.  i wasn't able to be there, but according to the teachers and the kids, he was a huge hit!  the audience was enraptured, and afterwards, they all received their very own copies.

what was especially fitting was the fact that this occurred during P Week.  you see, liam and susanna call my dad Pops, so he served as liam's Preschool show-and-tell contribution.  he brought his book he Personally had Published in Paperback, full of Prose and Poetry ... and all about Patriotism.

Perfection!