As I was saying...

Seems it's been a while since I've posted again, so I'm going to share some observations about our kids that I've made on Facebook in the past few weeks (actually Susanne posted the last one which makes me laugh every time I see it!) Cheers! -M

January 30, 2012

This morning I spilled some water and muttered a bit loudly "oh s*it!" From the bathtub Benji then happily chirped "oh chips!" Oh alright. He happily chirped what I'd said. :-(

January 27, 2012

Life lesson #207. Approach yakking/yelling toddler in the pre-dawn hours like approaching a ferocious beast. Make no eye contact. Give commands in a gentle voice. Show no fear while slowly backing away...

January 26, 2012

"Just 2 more minutes of rocky rocky (rocking) Danny". "Aw..5 minutes! Please!" "Hmm...okay, how about 1.5 minutes?" He drifted off to sleep,  thrilled with his "victory". Are you smarter than a 4 year old? ;-)

January 24, 2012

What to do when 1,2,3 Magic becomes 1,2,3 Monotony?

January 23, 2012

If there was FB for 2 yr olds, would they post stuff like "I did it!" Would they change status to stuff like "potty trained?" And would they have "mine, mine, mine" buttons?

January 22, 2012

Cognitive dissonance=4 year old playing awesome super hero while bursting out tears about every teeny tiny boo boo :-)

January 19, 2012

I love that Benji's new favorite thing to do is yell "HUG" and give big bear hugs. Makes all the rest of this stuff in life seem rather unimportant :-)

January 15, 2012

So apparently the nickname "Stinkerbelle" is not our toddler's favorites. "No, no mommy!" he disagrees. Hmm...alright, but there is something to be said for "if the shoe--er--diaper fits...

January 14, 2012

Not much sweeter than seeing a 2 year old view his Nana via Skype for the first time, saying bye-bye by planting a big kiss on her (or rather the screen).

January 9, 2012

Dear Spellcheck. My son's name is "Benji" not "Banjo". Really. Sincerely, Maniac

January 9, 2012

I quote: Mama, can you pause the snow? - Danny

Benji Sings!

My Brain is Full. May I Be Excused Please?

Wow. Information, information. So much information. Blogs and Facebook and a Facebook-like collaboration site at work. Our Yahoo e-mail, my always piling up work e-mail, newspapers, links to interesting articles, stuff from Danny's school (both via e-mail and in his daily folder.) I can connect instantly to the treasure trove of "online" from work, home--my Blackberry, Su's IPhone, my new Kindle. I sometimes think there is a limit to what I can manage, and this, ladies and gentlemen is the excuse I give this week for being such a negligent blogger of late. I don't have time to create. I'm too busy digesting!

Sometimes I wonder what it must have been like to live in the not too distant past. Most people never traveled probably more than 20 miles from where they were born. Their "social network" consisted of their neighbors, church friends and folks from town. If you could read, I'm sure that books could open your mind to a whole new world of thoughts and images, but more than likely books were not that easy to come by for most.

Would this have been a boring life? If this was the only life you ever knew, how would you make an assessment that it was boring? And what is the opposite of boring anyway? Is this crazy 200 mile per hour ride every day down this "information superhighway" the anti-boring? I don't think so.

I think it's good in that our brains probably stay pretty sharp as we continually make connections with new information. But I think that the overload can also hurt. Our minds become so full of "stuff" that there is scant room for reflection and deeper thinking on well, anything.

But our world is what it is. I could do all sorts of things to slow down the onslaught, and sometimes I do. I'll opt out of some e-mails that I get constantly and never read. Or I'll request a digest from listserves rather than getting sometimes dozens of messages each day. But for the most part, I continue to slog through. Mindfully at times, but more often that not, mindlessly.

I could have written this in a private diary or journal, but no, I had to blog this deep thought. You know, so I could add some new food for thought to your world.

You're welcome. -Monica

The Crack (or is that the creak?) of Dawn...

I'm an early riser. Didn't always used to be that way, but for about 10 years now I have easily woken up at or before 6 am. There is not much I enjoy more than heading downstairs and as the sun gently rises, reading the paper from cover to cover with a hot cup of coffee.

In reality, this hardly ever happens.

Why you may ask? Exhibit A shown here.

Oh how I love them, but oh how they torment me with their keen hearing. You see, our house is well built and not too creaky, but when I dare to tempt the fates by QUIETLY opening our door, then QUIETLY going to the bathroom before attempting to navigate the steps, I find myself holding my breath waiting for one of them to cry out.

If I am lucky, I can survive this portion of the competition, but then it's on to the stairs. The dreaded stairs.

Should I try to dash quickly down them? Or slowly descend, stopping on each step, hoping beyond hope that I've not been discovered?

As it turns out, none of my strategies seem to matter much. One of the boys inevitably wakes up and calls out (which of course wakes up his brother).  If it's Danny, he's up and running out of his room, excitedly telling me all about his latest dream (this morning it was that he lived in an aquarium and his best friend was scuba diving there with our fish.) If it's the little guy in his crib, he begins his loud and persistent demand for MOMMY! MAMA!  Benji will not take no for an answer. There is no winning.

So when I wake up early if I have a book I try to read. If not, I daydream about the newspaper just waiting for me one flight down. Calling my name I swear. I will admit that sometimes I feel like a prisoner in my own home.

Then when my impulses get the best of me, although I know I shouldn't, I try once more to sneak downstairs. And every once in a great while I succeed. Then there are the other 99% of the times.

There's always tomorrow ;-) -Monica

Ah yes...Christmas!

This Christmas has been great fun. We have two happy and contented boys (except when they are not ;-) and plenty of great food and gifts to go around. As I write this at about noon, Danny is having a fantastic a time doing "Mind Blowing Science" experiments with his Nana. Benji meanwhile is all about his pillow pet and his new Thomas the Tank Engine sleeping mat.

Thank you so much to all of our family and friends who sent gifts, but as you can see from one of the photos, next year you might be able to get by with sending only the bubble wrap. Popping those little bubbles provided at least a half an hour of great fun this morning!

Merry Christmas everyone.

Through the Eyes of a Child...

This morning I had a really touching moment that I'm still thinking about.  I was driving the boys to Jenni's and we were quietly listening to Christmas music on the radio. I was suddenly transported back to a year ago when my cell rang when I was at a Post Office with Benji. My sister Alice told me to hold on--I'd like this.  Mom had been unable to speak at all in the preceding days when I was back home in Minnesota—after two hip breaks in one year, things had turned dire.  And here she was, with Alice holding her cellphone to her ear speaking to me as I held tiny Benji, telling me she loved me.  I was overwhelmed with joy in that moment.

So on the drive this morning I was thinking of that call and got lost in a reverie, remembering long ago Christmases with mom and just could not stop the tears from silently rolling down my face.  I didn't look back at the boys at first as I didn't want them to see me cry. But two year old Benji was watching me. When I caught his eye in the rear view mirror after a while, he pointed to his eyes and put his head down. A few moments later, without a sound he looked up and his eyes were brimming with tears.   

I was at once so moved by his amazing empathy but alarmed that he was so sad. Then Danny looked at Benji and asked me why Benji was crying. Then Benji burst out in tears. I told him that I thought Benji had seen me crying and that made him cry too. "Yeah" Benji wailed.

We talked about how sad I was that Grandma had died. I was trying to regain my composure when Danny gently told me that "Mommy at the end of your years you get to go to heaven to be with God". This choked me (and thus Benji) up even more. These boys. They soothe my soul.

When we got to Jenni's, she quickly got them excited about making ornaments and I was glad to see them happy again.

My brothers and sisters and I and all of our extended family are going to have these moments of intense sadness in the days to come.  Mom died on Christmas Day last year and there is something very powerful about that. I will forever be grateful that she was alive and doing well when our children were born. I will be forever sad that she is no longer with us. But to paraphrase a wise 4 year old, at the end of my years, I’ll see her again.  -Monica

Mom, my brother Paul, Danny, me and Benji two months before mom passed away.

Our Fitzgerald Children

Fitzgerald Children, a photo by Bread for the City on Flickr.

Just in case you didn't know, our family has recently expanded!

Ok, actually, these are just the boys with their best friends and neighbors - Josie and Callagh. But we love them like family!

The picture was taken at Bread for the City's Holiday Photo Shoot. We particularly love this photo because it so fabulously captures each child's personality and the way they respond to directions!

Happy Birthday Benji!

Benji seems to have had a great 2nd birthday:

After our traditional birthday breakfast at home, we headed to Union Station for the Holiday Train Show where we met friends and neighbors to see the trains and have some cupcakes!  Thanks for a great party everyone.

Some memorable moments:


Being told that the Main Hall at Union Station and thus the train exhibit - setting for the party - was closed. :(

Discovering that the area was open afterall. :)

Benji's answer to "how old are you?": EIGHT!

The Handwritten Note--its power even in this internet age...

When my dad lay dying in May of 2002 I remember having to get a little notebook to write stuff down in so I could keep everything straight. I titled it "my brain" because I remember feeling so overwhelmed that I simply could not think of what had to be taken care of. In so many respects, that time was a blur. I remember that the Lilly of the Valley's were blooming next to the house on the day of his funeral and that somehow I thought he would have like that.

My mom got so many flowers when he died that we couldn't help but joke that the dining room smelled like a flower shop or a funeral home. Call it gallows humor if you will. That's what I remember.

But in that blur, one memory stands out. I'd worked several years for an outstanding man who was a Senior Executive in the government. His name was Marty and I remember seeing an envelope on my desk the day I came back to work after my sad journey to Minnesota. This dear man had written me the most beautiful note. He wrote of parents and children and love and blessings and peace. When I saw him shortly thereafter he gave me the biggest hug. I will never forget the power of that note. Maybe because I didn't expect it. Or maybe because it spoke to me in such a personal and eloquent way. He brought me such peace and joy. And I'll never forget it.

Fast forward 8 years to last year at Christmastime, and then it was my beautiful mom who lay dying. I remember some of that same disorientation I felt with my dad's death. She died on Christmas Day, and as we've headed in Christmas 2011, I've been feeling strong moments of sadness about mom. Sad that I can't talk to her, sad that she is missing seeing my boys grow up. Feelings that Christmas will never be the same. Feelings that I can't even describe.

But then the other day our dear neighbors, Mary Elizabeth and Joe who are very spiritual and loving stopped by to drop some gifts off for St. Nicolas Day.  When I opened a card they had addressed just to me, I could not speak. Tears rolled down my face. The power of the written word comforted me yet again. After reading it, somehow my anxiety is less and my connection to my mom stronger than ever right now. God bless you dear neighbors. Thank you for helping me enter into this Christmas season with more joy than pain right now. -Monica

It reads: Dear Monica, A candle is offered in memory of your mother at the Franciscan Monastery gardens--its light will shine there from Christmas until New Year's Eve--a reminder that your mother's light will continue to shine in your life--may her memory bring you only peace and joy. Joe and Mary Elizabeth

I'm just glad they can now "All Star Baby Wrestle" without me...

Here are a few pics of the boys horsing around at Thanksgiving last week. With that holiday behind us, I will admit that I am finding it hard to wrap my head around the fact that the Christmas season is NOW. Today the boys and I are going to put the lights up on the porch. I love that they will be delighted by the whole process so I'll try my very best not to let them know that I really don't much like putting up (nor taking down) lights.

Then we'll be off to do a ton errands and get a visit from a dear old friend this afternoon. Come to think of it she might now appreciate me calling her old, so let's call her a dear friend.

Last weekend while in South Carolina we took Danny to see Arthur Christmas while Benji shopped with his Nana, and it was a really fun movie. Highly recommend. I was kind of shocked though that they charged $9 per adult ticket for an 11 am matinee. Not sure that is such a good business model though. There were a total of 5 people in the theater, 2 of whom were little kids. Maybe if  they charged less more would come? Just my two cents.

Gotta run. I'm hearing crying that indicates that one of my All Star Baby wrestlers has a boo boo. Have a great weekend. -M

Strike a Pose...

We are having a great time visiting the boys' grandmother in South Carolina for Thanksgiving.

As proud parents, we of course think that Danny and Benji are adorable enough to be catalog models, but, apparently we are not serious about this or else maybe we'd find pants that fit Benji and a shirt that fits Danny right?

Hope you all had a happy Thanksgiving and had plenty to give thanks for. As you can see, we sure did. -Monica

DC Department of Doh!

This is a story of a little blue car. His name is Rondo, and when we bought him I wisely got a low interest loan from my Credit Union. After religiously paying off the loan for a few years, I got something called a "lien release letter".

This is a good thing. It means that the bank says that we are "Even Steven" and I can now get the title to little Rondo in my name.

After doing some research I got to this link where I learned that I would have to go in person into the Department of Motor Vehicles (DMV) to one of the Service Locations and give them the letter, some money (which my Credit Union covered after much discussion) and in about a week, they would mail me the new title.

Today I was in the area of the main DMV and brought everything along I needed. The woman at the information desk sighed in a bored voice and said "we can't do that here". Turns out that I'd have to go to a Service Center. Silly me. I tried to explain that the main DMV is listed under Service Locations on the web site regarding titles. I could tell my observation was of no interest to her. "You have to go to a Service Center she said again, waving on the next customer while shoving a brochure in my hand.

Turns out that on the DMV website if you go into each facility listed under Service Locations , you'll see a list of what you can and cannot do at each location--some of which are called Service Centers (which is not what the information about titling says). It's completely illogical in my opinion.

My transaction involved entering information into a system, accepting payment and issuing me a new title later.  Why this cannot be technologically accommodated at the main DMV is beyond me. It's not like I expected them to whip up a title for me. I know that it's a process that takes time and new titles are mailed. But seriously? It feels more like 1984 than 2011 (and not in a good way).

So some fine day I'll go to a service center that the web site says can handle this transaction. I wonder what the problems I'll encounter there the day I go? I can only imagine.

Good thing we are not thinking of selling little Rondo. But I'd sure like to get his "birth certificate" with me listed as his owner. Is that too much to ask? -M

Someone takes getting his hair cut VERY seriously.

 

But Benjamin recovered nicely as you can see.

Bring it on Old Man Autumn!

Last weekend the boys enjoyed a little fun in the leaves when their Nana Ulli came for a visit. Looks like more fun on tap for today with all the wind we've had in the DC area this week. Probably twice as many leaves down as last week. They are going to be SO EXCITED! -M

11/11/11

Every year on Veteran's Day I think of my dad.  He pretty badly wanted out of a difficult life at home and managed to enlist at 16. Still not sure how he got away with that. He had terrible vision in one eye--Amblyopia I think it was called. It meant that the eye had a visual disorder but looked normal. When it came time to take the eye test he cleverly passed it. When they told him to cover one eye and read the chart he covered his right eye with his right hand. He did great. Then they told him to do the same with the other eye. He just used his left hand this time and covered up that same right eye. Again he did great. He must have really wanted into the service.

This all happened in the 1950s and before too long, before he met my mom, he was shipped overseas to Korea. As war was never declared against Korea--it was actually a police action, but if you asked my dad, he'd tell you it was a war.

I only ever remember catching bits and pieces about his experience there. I know he was a telegraph guy. Knew Morse Code perfectly and for the most part worked on intercepting messages. I recall that he sometimes had bad dreams and I don't know if it was true or I imagined that his angst came from having been in a truck when the driver was shot. If the driver had slammed right they all would have plunged off a cliff. But he slammed left and the rest survived. He was in the front cab as I recall the story going and it was pretty traumatic for him. Again, since he hardly ever talked about the "non-war war" I sometimes wonder if I imagined all this.

I do know for a fact that in the 1990s after the Korean War Memorial was built in Washington my dad came to visit and we went for a walk there. (I'm glad they don't call it the Korean Police Action Memorial) For those of you who don't know this memorial it's just a few steps from the Vietnam Memorial by the Lincoln Monument.  He thought the artists did a great job of creating it. It's right near DCA National and very often you hear aircraft overhead. Spot on. Kind of startled him I'm pretty sure. He said that it was funny that most people think Korea was hot (maybe they confuse it with Vietnam, which by the way was also a police action as war was never declared) but he said it was SO cold all the time. That was his memory.

Dad figured he'd just stay in the military for his whole career but after he got married and us kids started coming along, I guess a better paying job was needed. He did stay in the reserves and every summer for two weeks he'd go train as well as several weekends a year. I was a kid in the 1960s and I think I remember mom worrying that dad might have to go to Vietnam but I'm grateful that that never happened. I'm sure he was too.

So on this 11th day of the 11th month of actually the 11th year of this century I salute my dad and all who have served. Like it says at the Korean War Memorial "Freedom Isn't Free". -Monica

 My dad Joe a few years before he enlisted in the Army

Mommy, Benji's playing with his oatmeal...

Mommy on her way into the dining room: "Danny, remember how we've talked about tattling? You only need to tell if someone is in danger or breaking someth..."

"Oh for the love of God Benjamin! Really? Really?"

I'm not sure if there was danger or anything being broken, but I'm kinda glad Danny alerted me to this. You know, before it got out of hand. -Monica

Hanging out with Great Grandpa in Germany

It's hard to believe that it was just a few short weeks ago that we were in Germany. October is definitely a good time to head to that part of the world I must say. We enjoyed really pleasant weather and of course since it was October, we had a beer or two in honor of Octoberfest!

I thought I'd post a few pictures of the boys hanging out with their 91 year old grandfather. He's Susanne's Opa on her dad's side, so to the boys he's their Uropa. It was really fun to see both him and the boys so happy together.

It Was a Dark and Stormy Night

My three favorite characters setting the mood set for a spooky Halloween. Scary!

It Was a "Snowshine Day" to paraphrase the Brady Bunch ;-)

We got our first snow fall of the year yesterday and Danny and Benji were thrilled as you can see. Danny's hat is sort of a combination stegosaurus/porcupine hat that we got for him in Germany, and Benji's was perfect for Halloween weekend. A pumpkin hat we got from our friend Raquel when he was a tiny baby. He fills it quite nicely now and it will be perfect for this winter! Have a great Halloween everyone, and if stay warm!

Stopping the Madness!

Growing up in an Irish American family I was very familiar with the word "whinging". It rhymes with "singeing" and what it means is to whine or fret. In a very annoying way.

As an adult I remember reading Angela's Ashes by Frank McCourt and being astounded to see him write the word "whinge."  I'd never seen it written before which was sort of a shock.

Fast forward many years and here we are today. And we've got a whinger. His name is Daniel, and we have gotten a tad bit sick of the whining. (Our neighbor is from Ireland so his family uses the word quite a lot to describe their kids' high pitched complaining too.)

Anyway, a few days ago Susanne read some great advice on Baby Center or somewhere that a good way to stop the incessant whinging is to create a jar with say five whinge cards for the day in it, the last one attached to a treat. Every time the kid whinges you take a card out. The last one to come out if the one with the treat attached. However, if the kid can control him or herself enough, they get the treat. Each night you put your five whinge tickets back in and start over (always with a treat attached to one as the reward).

Bottom line--if we have to pull all 5 cards out each day before supper ends because he's been caught whinging 5 times he does not get his gummy bears. If we pull out 4 or fewer, he gets the bears.

We have been using this with pretty good success this past week as Danny is very keen on getting his Gummy Bear treat (we got the kind with Vitamin C so we feel like this is an okay thing.) He did not get his treat the first night we tried it, but has every other night (except one) and we are thrilled that the whinging has dropped off considerably.

Now if only we could figure out how to solve for the problem of Benji becoming apoplectic when Danny gets a treat and he does not.  And also how to help Danny understand that whinging "BUT I'M NOT WHINGING" loses him a card. ;-)

Anyone else used this method, or think you'll try it? We give it a thumbs up! -Monica