Stolen: Velcro Sneakers

As you probably already know, both of my boys were born with big feet. So much so that Sung used to say Oalin had feet like the characters in Lord of the Rings. Halflings, maybe? Recently, I put Oalin's sneakers on his feet after a long summer hiatus only to find him spicy and resistant to wearing them. Only after I saw him walking awkwardly did it finally dawn on me that perhaps they were too small. Indeed, they were much too small.
Today, we journeyed to the mall in search of the perfect sneaker. The last time I bought Oalin sneakers it took us almost an hour to find them because he wanted "red ones" and nothing else. Our first stop was a running store. After measuring his feet, the woman said, "He's an 11." Eleven? Gosh that sounds big. "So, we can choose from any of these shoes?" I ask, pointing to the children's section. "Oh, no. They don't go up that high. He's over here." As she points to the Big Kid Section! I nearly fell down. How could this be? He does have big feet, but he's only 2! The sneakers looked so big. So grown up. They had, dare I say it, laces! Real, big boy, laces! Oalin tried a couple on, but I felt so sad looking at them. I know they are just sneakers, but in my eyes someone had come from behind me and stolen my sons world of Velcro sneakers. The ones that made his smile light up just as bright as the lights on the sneakers themselves. The ones that seemed to scream,"I'm the happiest little boy in the whole world!" These sneakers with the... laces... were much, much too sophisticated for my... baby! Weren't they? So we left. We went to our old faithful, Stride Rite, and immediately both of our eyes landed on the perfect pair of little boy sneakers. Monster trucks that would light up when he walked with Velcro and not laces. He could hardly wait for the sales woman to come back with his size. "I'll just take these." He repeatedly said as he insistently took them off of the shelf. Having gone into the store with sandals the woman had put those silly, old-woman-looking, peds, on his feet before she tried the sneakers on him. Need I say, those silly "stockings" are now sitting on Oalin's bedroom floor because he absolutely had to wear his Monster Truck shoes home. I may have bought Monster Truck shoes, but bigger than that, I realized that I needed to hold on a little tighter, as if I were Velcro, to Oalin and Kheenan's childhood. In the blink of an eye, it truly just.........

The number THREE

What is it about the number 3? In Feng Shui 3 is often considered the number that is most harmonious. In religion, we have many three's such as the trilogy: Father, Son, and Holy Spirit. When we are about to take a leap of faith, or otherwise, we say, "1, 2, 3!" Today, was Oalin's third day of school. From the second he woke up, he kept asking, "We're not going to school yet, right?" We kept saying our prayer, "God, when I am afraid I will trust in You. Because of your love I am never alone." He was crying before we even left the house. Thank goodness for "Uncle Chad's Book" that Oalin brought with us in the car or the tears might have kept coming all the way to school. As soon as we were there he started really, really crying. I reminded him that he had two choices at school (I had written them on a piece of paper with some stick figure drawings) "1)Be happy and have fun at school until Mommy comes back or 2)Be sad and have NO fun until Mommy comes back" He told me he was going to choose number 1, but bless his heart he just couldn't stop crying. I continued on into the school and his crying turned into screaming. Ms Mary Lou joined us outside and after I reminded him to make a good choice, I ripped my hysterically screaming child off of me, handed him to Ms Mary Lou, smiled and blew him a kiss. I felt, yet again, horrible. I spent the next 2 1/2 hours trying to accomplish errands, but the world seemed against my efforts. At 11 o'clock I went to pick him up. One child comes out.. miserable. The second child comes out looking shell shocked. The third child comes out still crying. Oalin is the fourth child out and he's... happy!! Yes, I said HAPPY! Ms Mary Lou and Ms Nancy tell me what a wonderful day he had. Oalin says, "I had a good day. I was sad a little bit though." Ms Mary Lou says he cried for less than a minute! Less than a minute!! She said he was a big helper, a real preschooler, and that he even talked. ( a big accomplishment :) I felt like I wanted to dance.. Okay, actually.. I DID dance and clapped my hands and hugged him SO tight! Of course, then he said, "Okay, let's go in the car now." On the way home we talked about his day. He told me, "I hugged Ms Nancy. I painted. I did Lego's. Ms Sara came in and she played different songs than last week." Then I asked him if he had gone to the playground.
He said, "Yes! It was a lot of fun. I shoveled!"
"You shoveled? Shoveled what?"
"I shoveled... hmmm.. what's that called?"
"Dirt?"
"No."
"Bark Mulch?"
"No. Hmmm... Compost! I shoveled compost into buckets."
"And this was fun?"
"Yes! Compost is kind of like snow. I love shoveling!"
He does love shoveling. Who knew a perfect day at school would consist of shoveling worm poop. :) I can only hope day number 4 goes just as well. I told him that we'll get to go back to school next Tuesday. His reply, "Can we go on Sunday and then Tuesday?" Awww... my big preschooler!

Aunt Claire's Garden

Last week, Kheenan, Oalin and I went to visit Aunt Claire. We had a wonderful time reminiscing and touring her garden. We were amazed at all the great fruits, vegetables, and flowers she is growing. Squash, tomatoes, strawberries, broccoli, grapes, peaches, mushrooms, pears, cranberries... and even peanuts! I must admit that I was beyond excited to see a peanut actually come from the ground and not a bag! After our delicious lunch with some garden treats it was time to go and Oalin was very sad :( In the car, Oalin told me he wanted to have a garden. I asked him what he would like to grow and he said, "Grapes, strawberries, and ice cream!" Considering how many things Aunt Claire is able to grow maybe next year she'll be "growing" ice cream, too :)

Oalin was worn out from our adventure to Aunt Claire's Garden, but was sure to cling tight to his Black Eyed Susan that she let him pick. (I think she should charge admission to see all of her fruits and vegetables!)

A night to REMEMBER?

Life has been SO busy lately! I am definitely not a traditional blogger who blogs every day... sorry!! I have so many stories I don't know where to start!! This past weekend was a wild adventure. Kheenan and I went on a road trip down to PA. We stopped in NYC on Friday to spend the night and visit "Auntie Diane." It was quite the treat to get so much alone time with Kheenan! I was even able to capture some pictures and video without a certain someone skootching into the frame :) Here's Kheenan in the stroller... he was the happiest boy looking at the NYC sky!

The next morning Kheenan and I left early to go to Philly where I was hosting a bridal shower for my friend Danni. (She's getting married in October - YAY!) . The shower went well and Kheenan was, for the most part, asleep and therefore pretty content. Here's a pic of the beautiful bride-to-be, me and guess who is under the blanket?:)

I left about 3:30 ish that day with the hopes of getting ahead of the tropical storm coming up the coast. Kheenan fell right to sleep as soon as we left Philly, but then 30 minutes later he woke up screaming. That was the beginning of the chaos. At this same point, the rain started really coming down. I've driven this route many times, but never have I seen the roads like this! I pulled over to nurse Kheenan, drove on, pulled over again and nursed again... each time I would get out of the car I would get completely soaked. Kheenan was miserable in the car seat. He was happy when I nursed him, but as soon as I got back on the road he would start crying again. I felt so bad for him because I couldn't even turn around to look at him or give him a toy. The roads were so bad and the NJ/NY drivers only made it worse. As I struggled to not hydroplane going at max 30 mph, big semi's passed me going at least 50 mph. After seeing SIX accidents on my journey, I knew that I needed to just make it back to Diane's to bunker down for the night. Clearly, I wasn't ahead of the storm... I was in the eye of the storm. With Kheenan screaming for more than 2 hours and the rain flooding the right lane of the highway I was ridiculously stressed out. I kept praying that God would help us to get home safely. I kept telling myself that Kheenan was fine and that even though he was sad my priority was to get him back safely. I wanted to hysterically cry, but I knew that if I let myself go I would surely get into an accident. There was simply no time for crying. And then, it happened. The battery light burst into my eyes. No, way. Last month, the battery had died while Sung and I had taken the kids to CT. We had replaced the battery and then, when we got home, I had taken the car into the shop to have it checked out just to be sure that nothing else was wrong. "Everything looks good," they said. OMG, what was I going to do. Last time, the car, literally just died on the road. The baby screaming, the rain, and now the battery. I thought I was going to throw up. Just keep driving, just keep driving I told myself. The GPS system which had been going in and out because of the storm (umm.. note to self, always have a plan B. In this case a map or directions on a piece of paper would have been helpful). The GPS had me going a way into the city that I hadn't gone before... into a one lane tunnel I went... I could tell on the GPS that there was water all around. I call Sung. I hate tunnels. At this moment, I just wanted another soul with me. Someone to say, "No worries. Everything is fine." I had forgotten my earpiece at home and I didn't dare take my hands off the wheel so I had Sung on speaker phone. With the baby screaming and me panicking I tried to explain what was going on. I could tell he didn't understand. "The battery! The battery!" I kept screaming. Then.. as if in slow motion... the wipers suddenly slow down..slowly they go up.. even more slowly they come back down. Then, they stop. My headlights go out.
"The car is going to die!! What do I do!" Sung just kept saying, "What? I can't understand you. I thought you were going to Diane's." I hang up the phone. No time to try to explain. I need to think for myself. Please God, please God.. let me make it through the tunnel. Like a mantra, I kept saying, "Please don't let the car stop. Please don't let the car stop." Amazingly, it didn't. Out of the tunnel and into the city. "Now what?" I thought. What do people in this city do when they break down? You can't just pull over. With the baby still screaming... the rain suddenly stopped. Thank you God! My wipers weren't working and it was obviously hard to see. Turn after turn. Right onto the ramp. Left onto the exit. Right onto the street. Left. Left. Right. OMG.. am I almost there??! With each turn I was so thankful to be a little bit closer to Diane's. It was now 7:30, 4 hours after I left Philly. A ride which should have taken no more than 2. Like a beacon I spot an open "hole in the wall" mechanic shop that's open. Without hesitation, I turn in. Please God, don't let this guy rip me off. Please let him be able to fix the car. Please let him be a good person. I get out of the car.. get the exhausted, screaming wreck of a baby out of the backseat and approach the mechanic. I tried not to look desperate, but I know I must have. I say, "It's the battery." He doesn't say a word. Just pops the hood and starts looking at things. I notice his hands. Greased, cracked. Someone who obviously works hard for a living. His blue coveralls seem to make me smile. I can't help but linger into memories of my dad when I was young.. of his greased hands...of his coveralls covered in black grease. "It's the alternator," he says. How can this be? I specifically had the alternator checked. I ask if he is sure. And he, unequivocally says, "Yes." How much? "Maybe $300, maybe $250." I try to keep from smiling. I thought for sure he would charge me 3 times as much. When could you do it? Remember, it's now Saturday night. "I'll come in tomorrow at 8 and get it done for you by 2." I am so blessed. I am SO incredibly blessed. Great! With Kheenan on my hip and the rain sprinkling down, I start to take out all of my things.. suitcase, stroller.. The mechanic walks up to me and says, "You drive me where you need to go and I'll take the car back here." This man. This man is an angel. He asks for my name and on a piece of paper with other names and numbers he simply writes, "KERRI MAXIMA" and my number. Even his writing reminds me of my dad. He charges the battery (it completely died only moments after I turned into the shop) and off we go. Kheenan is of course still screaming. The mechanic and I chat on the way and I find out that he has 3 little ones at home. The smell of oil, solvent, grease. This amazing sense of calmness, of peace comes over me as I continue to remember sweet moments with my dad. It's over now. Everything is okay. Every ONE is okay. We didn't get into an accident. The car will be fixed. We will have a safe place to stay the night. We get to Diane's, he hands me his business card (thank goodness or I wouldn't have known where the car was!) and we enter into her house where she and her sister have lit candles and dimmed the lights. (I had called on the way to let her know what was going on). We are so blessed. SO blessed. Sure enough, Andreas, as I came to know, fixed the car and though the part itself was $260 he still only charged me $300 and it was done on Sunday. The ride back to NH on Sunday night was not exactly fun. I had to pull over every 30 minutes to try and calm Kheenan down. He was miserable in his car seat. As I drove, I recalled the events of the weekend and thanked God for all that He had done. Things could have been incredibly bad. But instead, I ended up with a fixed car and some beautiful, forgotten memories of my dad. So, if ever you are in Long Island City, NY be sure to stop in at Andreas Auto Repair Shop to get your car fixed and maybe he'll spark some forgotten memories for you, too.

A little video of Kheenan feeling much better after the trauma of the trip from Philly to NYC.

Paranoia?

For a good couple of days now Oalin has been itching his legs and arms from what looked to be Mosquito bites. Everyday it seemed as if 5 new bites had appeared. Then, the other night, my Dad thought that one of them might look like Poison Ivy. I checked, but everything was so scratched up, I couldn't tell. Last night, while Oalin was playing, I caught a glimpse of one on his leg. It was puffy and white and completely looked to be Poison Ivy. I called the doctor and was lucky to get an appointment at 8:20 at night. For the next two hours my mind started to race. Was it Poison Ivy? If so, where did he get it? And where is the oil now.. I'm going to have to wash everything. Is it a spider bite? Is there a bug in his bed! Oh my gosh, somehow a spider is living in his bed and is attacking him at night. Should I throw the bed out right now? Should I spray it with something? I had come to the conclusion that it was in fact a spider and started my frantic search on the web to find some pictures of bites for proof. Sung assured me that this wasn't the case and that Oalin probably had mosquito bites and they just looked red because he was scratching at them so intensely. 8:20 finally came and the nurse led us into the room. She asked a series of questions... "Where is it?" Only on his extremities.. though particularly around his feet and now today the palm of his hand. "Hmmm..." Dramatic pause. Have you checked the inside of his mouth?" His mouth? No. I hadn't. How could I have not checked his mouth?! I pulled down his lip to find... this...

Hard to see in the picture, but it's a big white spot on the inside of his lip! The nurse looked at me with wide eyes. Oh, my gosh! He has Hand, Foot, Mouth. How could I have not thought about that! Where did he get it? School! Agh. I knew he shouldn't go to school.. look what's already happened to my poor baby! The Doctor came in and quietly looked over Oalin... his feet.. his hands... his mouth... and then said in a very calm and gentle voice. "Nope. Not hand, foot, mouth. It's mosquito bites. And that's a canker sore." Ha! I completely started to laugh. I had gotten myself all worked up over, yup, mosquito bites. The doctor was so sweet. Not once treating me like the paranoid mother I am. Silly, Mommy.

The Next American Idol?!

Here's Oalin performing a song he calls, "Uncle Brett"(Sung's friend Brett). He made it up over the weekend. Enjoy, but be warned that it gets stuck in your head :)

The Curse of Articulation

Today was Oalin's first day of school! Before Oalin woke up, Sung made pancakes in the shape of a truck and an airplane, I topped them with Oalin's favorite whipped cream, and set out a bunch of balloons.

It was, by all accounts, a wonderful start to the day! On our way to school I kept praying that my heart would be broken because he would walk into school and not turn around to say good-bye. But as soon as we turned onto the school's road and Oalin said, "I don't want to go to school" I just knew that it was about to be bad. My heart sank. I tried to keep up my "I'm so excited you're going to school" facade, but the first hit to it was a hard one.

Pre-Mayhem

We were the first to arrive and the first to find out that there had been a switch of teachers.. now his teacher was to be Ms. Mary Lou. Great. For Oalin, any change to what was "supposed" to occur today was not good. However, he walked into the class and seemed, again, "okay". That is, until the mayhem suddenly started.. 8 out of 10 children were hysterically crying. They called in "reinforcements"; two more teachers to try to help out. I didn't want to leave him there with everyone crying, but I knew that if I didn't leave soon it would only be harder and harder. I handed Oalin over to Ms. Mary Lou, walked out the door, and feel to my knees crying. Melodramatic, I know. But, I couldn't help it! The teacher brain told me not to worry and that he was fine, but my heart just couldn't handle it. A friend offered to go out for coffee with me and so we went 2/10 of a mile down the road. I managed to pull myself together for coffee. While there I said to my friend, "I wish I had a little TV to watch what was going on." What I didn't know was that I was about to find out every painful detail right from my little one's mouth.
I was ridiculously excited to go back and pick him up. I waited, somewhat patiently, for them to start bringing the children outside. I prayed that, somehow, he had managed to pull himself together and enjoy his time at school. The first child came out... miserable... Ms Mary Lou looked around naming the kids who were ready for pick up, but when she spotted me, she quickly said, "Oh, well, let's get Oalin next." My heart sank; I knew what she had meant. He walked out, still hysterically crying. He clung onto me and said, "Mommy, I was so sad. I was SO sad." I couldn't help but start crying. Ms. Mary Lou tried to encourage me to hold up that fake smile. It took every ounce of my being to stop crying. He wouldn't let go. We spent the next 30 minutes inside the classroom talking to his teacher. I asked her if she could tell me even one thing that went well so that we could spend some time reflecting on it for next week. She said, "Well, we did some coloring." Oalin said, "I didn't want to color." She said, "That's true. Well, we played with some little teddy bears." Oalin said, "I didn't want to play." She said with a smile, "That's true." She paused, thinking, and said, "Ms. Sara came and played her violin. We got his attention for that." "So did he cry the whole time?" I asked. "Oh, no. He stopped while Ms. Sara played the violin." "How long was that?" "About 15 minutes."

But that's not the torture of it all. That came in the car. Usually I love the fact that Oalin can be quite articulate, but not today. Today, his words were like daggers. I couldn't even respond to him, because I didn't want him to know I was crying.. so he just kept talking... each word, like a stab to my already broken heart.
This is Oalin's account of his first day of school. (Though the order of sentences may not be quite right... the words, I am certain, are exactly as he said them)
"I was happy before I went to school. I felt sad when I got there. I was scared you weren't going to come back. The children were all crying. I kept calling for you, "Mommy! Mommy!" I just wanted to go home. Ms Mary Lou was holding me and she was telling the other teachers, 'Go get the violin! Go get the violin!' I didn't want my snack. I just wanted to go home. I kept saying, 'I want to go home! I want to go home!' I didn't want to go to the playground. The other children were obviously (yes he used that word!) sad. I don't like that school. School is NOT fun. I want you to find a school where you can come with me. Are you looking for a school like that right now?" We were finally home. I turned on Curious George, made it up the stairs, and balled my eyes out. I want to be brave for him. I want him to know that it's okay. I want him to have fun and learn new things. I know it gets better.. but I don't know if I'll make it until then.. I don't know if I can be brave enough.
So THAT, was Oalin's first day of school.