Tropic of Mom: Life at Latitude 26

Pool party

2009-11-04T00:30:00.003-05:00

First time in the pool

Lunch punch

2009-11-03T23:27:00.007-05:00

Sometimes, sitting down to eat with my preschooler is like bracing myself to face a wild animal.

He growls. He gets on and off his chair. He runs around and comes back. If he sits, he tries to put his feet on the table or he pushes his chair so far it might tip over backward. He pushes his plate around. He wants to play with food he dropped on the floor. He makes up stories about millipedes and raccoons that are (not) on the patio in view of our table. He wants to "cook."

He wants to do anything but eat.

Today, the Man-cub brought wooden train tracks to the table.

"We don't play with toys at the table, sweetie," I say. "Dad is here at lunch time. We don't always get to have lunch with Dad, so we should spend time with him and talk with him."

The Man-Cub thought for a moment.

"Dad," he asked, "Want to talk about trains?!"

Sometimes, the kid is a fast learner.

Fun with Jeeps and trucks

2009-11-02T07:21:00.002-05:00

Too funny not to share, even if it's a little painful....

Hi Holly,

Mom's move [into a new house] was a disaster. Somehow or another her work shoes (she's a nurse) were lost or have just not been found yet. [Our brother] Wally (who lives at home) was mad at my boys for scratching his guitars so he moved his computer and his bed by himself and it took until Friday for him to complete that task and it rained horribly for two days nonstop and the basement over Mom's flooded and Wally used Mom's Jeep to go to drive around on Friday, hit a guard rail coming home on the toll road and wrecked the damn Jeep so now Mom is driving a rental car and the Jeep has to be fixed, I guess front end damage and passenger's side. He needs to pay her deductible, and no, he's not hurt, just some scratches on his neck from the seat belt.

talk to you soon
luv molly (older sister) (not real names here)

Same day....

Holly.

I forgot to tell you Ron (her husband) hit a deer with a semi truck in Iowa on his way to Nebraska late last Sunday night. The truck needed a new radiator and it's going to get a new front fender soon. Ron froze his butt off waiting for a shop to open at 7 am. There are several deer here, the back road Brad (her youngest son) takes to work is really winding and there are deer all over. We used to have one come right up into the back yard and take pears off the pear tree until a storm took out the pear tree.

Talk to you later

molly

OK, nevermind. This isn't funny. But the way she tells it is funny....

Runner

2009-10-30T07:55:00.000-04:00

It is hard to photograph my son.

What I mean is, it is hard to photograph my son because he rarely looks toward the camera.

The Man-cub started walking at 10 months old. Two weeks later, he was running.

He hasn't stopped.

He goes to preschool two days a week. When I asked him what happened at school, he thought for a few seconds.

"Teacher says, 'No running!'"

At least I know he's being honest.

My boy may grow and change, but some things about him will probably never change. He will always be on the go.

Hosted by Cecily and Carissa

Weekend by numbers

2009-10-26T14:34:00.014-04:00

1: Number of prominent, smart, witty and really nice authors I got to meet on a book tour

Girl on Top author Nicole Williams and me -- was my hair really that flat?

1: Number of bargain-hunting, frugal-living bloggers I got to meet at the event (Natalie McNeal, the Frugalista)

1: Number of donations I made to the Michael Brewer Foundation (Michael Brewer lives in my county and was set on fire by classmates earlier this month)

2? Number of times the Man-cub stole my camera

3: Number of tasty treats I bought from Simply Something Special at a craft fair

5: Number of outfits I could have bought after the Girl on Top fashion show by The Limited (but I didn't)

10: Number of dollars I gave in exchange for a huge tub full of wooden train stuff. Score!

600? 900? 1200? Number of women at the Girl on Top Event

Infinity: Number of times I was disappointed we didn't get to have our Sunday evening beach fun.

Male order

2009-10-23T07:11:00.000-04:00

Every day, the Man-cub likes to be the one to open the mailbox door. He usually races ahead of me down the driveway to get there first, pull down on the handle and announce his magnificent feat. He's too short yet to get the mail out -- that's my job.

Then we go inside and sift through the mail. Sometimes he gets a magazine, a card from my husband's parents or even a small toy. I separate the mail into piles: for me, for my husband, for recycle, for trash.

Imagine my surprise when I found this postcard addressed not to me -- but to my husband.

So I put it in his pile, wondering if he'd say anything about it.

He did.

He said he was already busy that day.

Two things: How did he get on a bikini party mailing list, and since I am not wearing bikinis anymore, who is he buying bikinis for?!

Hosted by Cecily and Kelli

Don't come a-knockin'

2009-10-21T15:59:00.013-04:00

It almost never fails that as soon as one or both of my boys are napping in the afternoon or sleeping at night, one of the following threatens their peaceful slumber:

1. The nearby high school marching band starts rehearsal.

2. The neighbors' lawn-service guys start using a line trimmer, chainsaw or wood chipper. (Seeing a wood chipper always makes me think of the movie Fargo.) (So, ewww.)

3. My husband uses his table saw -- or his air compressor turns itself on and starts vibrating the floor of the whole house. (Gee, that sounds like some hanky-panky is going on in the garage....)

4. Someone rings our doorbell or knocks on our front door.

Unfortunately, I can't do anything about the marching band. And they're actually quite good.

The lawncare people don't care how many times you glare at them.

My husband tries to do his projects at reasonable hours ... 10 pm is reasonable, right?

The tree trimmers, survey takers, delivery guys and salespeople don't respond to behavioral conditioning.

But ....

Today I found a site selling doorknob hangers that ~~tell people off~~ gently remind visitors that you have a life. These signs for your door handle are kind of like the old-school equivalent of your Facebook or Twitter status.

Like this one:

To keep it real, though, mine would have to say, "Welcome to the UNORGANIZED PILE zone. Please watch your step."

This is cute. But my boys' friends can't read.

I'd use this one anytime I felt like being stalked, or possibly robbed home-invasion style.

And the best:

The sight of a bra? In connection with nursing? Sure to scare away those pesky people who trespass on my property to leave a plastic bag full of ads on my door handle. (Is that just a South Florida thing, or does everyone have to put up with the ad-bag phenomenon?)

I love this idea so much, I think I'll make my own:

Do you think it will work?

At least the ad-bag people don't ring or knock....

Here comes the sun

2009-10-21T00:05:00.002-04:00

...sunflower, that is.

Pines

2009-10-14T07:12:00.000-04:00

Pine flatwoods

The little hoopty that couldn't

2009-10-13T00:39:00.005-04:00

Overheard while my husband was reading the Man-cub his current favorite bedtime story....

- - - -

Chug, chug, chug. The little train rumbled over the tracks. She was a happy little train because she didn't know any better. Her cars were full of good things for boys and girls who had money. There were cars full of toy engines, airplanes, jack-knives and other things you can't take to school anymore. But that was not all. Some of the cars were filled with all sorts of good things for boys and girls to eat -- bottles of creamy milk for their breakfasts and even spinach even though no one really eats that.

(Curious, I look in on them. My husband's face doesn't even crack a smile. The Man-cub is taking it all in like it's the gospel truth from the book.)

The little train was carrying all these things to the boys and girls on the other side of the mountain because they had been banished there by their parents. All of a sudden, the little train stopped with a jerk. She simply could not go another inch. She tried and tried, but her wheels wouldn't turn because the cheap spinners had fallen off of them. What were all those good little boys and girls going to do?

"Here comes a shiny new engine that looks like he's been simonized," said the funny little clown who jumped out of the train. "Let us ask him to help us." So all the dolls and toys cried out: "Please, Shiny New Engine, won't you please pull our train over the mountain? Our engine is just a hoopty, and the boys and girls whose parents have banished them to the other side of the mountain won't have toys to play with or food to eat unless you help us."

(My husband and the Man-cub maintain a straight face through and through.)

But the Shiny New Engine snorted: "You can talk?! Well, it doesn't matter, because I am a Passenger Engine. I have just carried a fine big train over the mountain, with more cars than you ever dreamed of in your small little minds. My train had a dining-car where waiters bring whatever hungry people with money want to eat because they can order people around like that. I'm not going to pull the likes of you. So, shoo, you riff-raff!"

How sad the little hoopty train and all the dolls and toys felt. Then the little clown called out, "The Passenger Engine is not the only one in the world, just the most uppity. Here is another engine coming, a great big strong one. Let us ask him to help us."

"Please, oh please, Big Engine," cried all the dolls and toys. "Won't you please pull our train over the mountain? You know the story by now."

But the Big Strong Engine bellowed: "I am a Freight Engine. I have just pulled a big train loaded with big machines over the mountain. These machines print books and newspapers for grown-ups to read because grown-ups are boring like that. And so am I. I won't pull the likes of you."

(I am sitting and listening to the bedtime story now.)

The little hoopty train and all the dolls and toys were very sad. "Cheer up," cried the little toy clown. "I'm a clown, so I make you laugh. Don't worry, be happy. The Freight Engine isn't the only one in the world, only the geekiest. Here comes another. He looks old and tired, but not as old and tired as Mom. Perhaps he can help us."

So the little toy clown waved his flag. "Please, Kind Engine," cried all the dolls and toys, "Won't you please pull our train over the mountain? Our hoopty has broken down, and we're tired of sitting here looking at each other."

But the Rusty Old Engine sighed: "I am so tired. I must rest my weary wheels. I cannot even pull your little train over the mountain. I'm going to take an Ambien and maybe a Xanax now and get crunk."

Then indeed the little hoopty was very, very sad, and the dolls and toys were ready to cry even though they had no tear ducts.

But the little clown called out, "Here is another engine coming. Maybe she will help us. The very little engine came chug, chugging merrily along because she didn't know what she was in for. When she saw the toy clown's flag, she stopped quickly because she'd never seen a living toy before.

"What is the matter, amigos?" she asked kindly.

"Oh, Little Blue Engine," cried the dolls and toys. "Will you pull us over the mountain? All we have is this old hoopty, and the children on the other side of the mountain ... you know. Please, please help us, Obi-Wan. You're our only hope."

"I ain't no holla back girl," said the Little Blue Engine. "Tell your hoopty to stop being lazy."

"But we must get over the mountain before the children awake," said the dolls and toys.

The very little engine looked up and saw the tears in the dolls' eyes. Then she said, "I think I can. I think I can. I think I can." She tugged and pulled and pulled and tugged and started off even though she was just an Al Gore-approved hybrid. All the dolls and toys started to cheer because they're nerdy like that.

Puff, puff, chug, chug, went the Little Blue Engine. "I think I can -- I think I can -- I think I can!"

"Hurray, hurray," cried the weird little clown and all the dolls and toys who were on their way to a certain fatal outcome.

And the Little Blue Engine smiled because she knew she was better than the hoopty and said, "I thought I could, I thought I could, I thought I could, na na na na na na!"

And then my son asked for "the clown train book" again....

Medicine microwave

2009-10-09T07:10:00.000-04:00

Most people have a medicine cabinet. We have a medicine microwave.

Or, rather, the top of the microwave is where all our sick supplies congregate.

Maybe it's just mental: we have a cold, so we're thinking warm thoughts? We want to nuke our bug?

Or maybe it's right where we heat soup or make hot water for soothing tea -- everything is in one place.

We're so lazy.

Hosted by Cecily and Angie

Sea oats

2009-10-07T06:30:00.000-04:00

I'm still alive

2009-10-06T18:22:00.005-04:00

But barely. When your preschooler gets sick, then your baby gets sick, and then you get sick -- well, it's just all fun and games at our house. And because I'm breastfeeding, I can't take any medication that really works. It's just like being on vacation in Candyland.

Fortunately, the Man-cub was well enough to go to school today, so the Bug and I got a little rest.

Unfortunately, it was picture day, and this is the Man-cub's school picture.

I live a charmed life, I do.

A herd of books

2009-10-02T07:25:00.000-04:00

I should be crying uncle.

Before either of my sons were even a speck, I hoped to be able to treat any future children with one new book a month. At the rate we have collected books, though, my oldest should be more than twice his age by that measure.

The Man-cub's room is overflowing with books. The three drawers in his nightstand are crammed with nothing but books. There are books on his dresser. A heap of books in the corner. Books inside a cabinet just for him in the family room. And the Bug, who is barely just starting to see well, has a basket full in his room.

Recently, I tried to corral them and get them in order. (If a cowgirl wrassles cows, does a bookgirl wrassle books? Yee-haw and giddyup!) But even though I know the book-wrassling will be an ongoing task, it's one I gladly and willingly put up with because I know there will always be a book on hand for my boys. (The Man-cub recently brought me The Very Hungry Caterpillar and "read" it to me. My heart galloped with pride.) And that will foster a love of reading, and when they learn to read, new worlds will open up for them.

Hosted by Cecily and Linds

Be a "Girl on Top" in Miami!

2009-10-01T07:26:00.010-04:00

I don't have a so-called "job" even though I do plenty of work by staying home with my boys (and have a special project here and there). Even so, I'm excited about an upcoming event on the book tour for Girl on Top: Your Guide to Turning Dating Rules into Career Success by best-selling career author Nicole Williams. Nicole is coming to the Dadeland Mall on Friday, Oct. 23, and she is bringing lots of advice and fun.

Girl on Top hits bookstore shelves on Oct. 12. The book takes 20 dating rules and applies them to getting ahead in your career. Brilliant!

Miami is lucky enough to be one of 16 stops in the book tour, where Nicole will be be dishing career advice. If you come to the event, you'll also get a gift bag (with great stuff in it!), a 40% discount at The Limited, and cocktails. It's free!

If you want to join me at The Limited in Dadeland Mall (7535 Kendall Drive), 6-9 pm, click here to RSVP and be sure to enter "Tropic of Mom" or "tropicofmom.com" in the field labeled "How did you hear about GoT?"

The pier

2009-09-30T06:29:00.000-04:00

Pompano Beach

Chew, er, choo

2009-09-25T07:22:00.002-04:00

I did it.

What my son's third-birthday cake lacks in perfection, it makes up for in cuteness. Or so I think.

Sixteen little chocolate cakes baked, frosted, decorated, transported, laid out and devoured by our 60-odd guests.

Even though the Man-cub wouldn't eat so much as a crumb.

More for me.

Hosted by Cecily and Sports Mama

Rookie mom

2009-09-24T23:03:00.003-04:00

Not those Rookie Moms. Me. For still trying to figure out how to do the two-kid thing. I think up until this point, I have been running on adrenaline. And now I've lost a little oomph. Sometimes the day goes by in a blur and I have nothing to show for all my hours that seemed more like minutes. And then you throw in the start of preschool and a birthday party and trying to catch up on thank-you notes for gifts given for a baby who is almost three months old and a computer virus -- and life goes haywire. (Just what is a haywire? Sounds like something horses use.) And when you find your laundry-averse husband doing a few loads to try to help get things caught up, even though you do at least one load every day, you really wonder where your time goes. It sure hasn't been spent blogging. I haven't been to your blog or your blog or yours. I don't need to be the MVP, but someday soon I hope not to be the rookie, either.

In flight

2009-09-23T07:07:00.001-04:00

Pelicans

Disney on Ice: Princess Classics

2009-09-18T00:37:00.048-04:00

For the opening night of Disney on Ice: Princess Classics, I learned little boys can like princesses too. Surrounded by tiara-and-gown-wearing little girls, not only did I see lots of dads and boys, but my own husband and sons came with me. (But don't tell my husband I told you that.) In fact, we all got sprayed with beer by a guy who dropped his bottle while going down the stairs. And I mean, we all reeked of alcohol, so it's a good thing we didn't get stopped by the police on the way home, or we might have been suspect of a DUI and contributing to the delinquency of minors. So it was sort of like going to a game where the uniforms are more sparkly and the music has more violins and harps.

So.

Princess Classics tells the fairy tales everyone loves.

There are Aladdin and his genie.

At first, Jasmine isn't buying it...

But a magic carpet ride changes everything.

Magic carpets are totally the new sports cars. If you don't believe me, just ask Aladdin, who got the girl in the end.

Some fairy tales don't rely on genies, but fairies. With names like Flora, Fauna and Merriweather. You never hear about a fairy called Bob or Hank.

Fairy tales teach us that if you happen to be dancing in the woods one day and meet a stranger, it's not creepy -- it's love.

It's also perfectly normal for a book-loving girl to live in a castle with a beast.

And then the beast becomes a normal guy with a ponytail, which is way hotter than having a hunchback and a wet nose.

Fairy tales teach us that if you want something, you can make a deal with an octopus that is really a witch.

And you will get your man in the end. Or, he will get you and raise you over his head.

It's fine to take up residence with a group of jewel-mining dwarves and be their housekeeper.

But you have to whistle while you work.

Sometimes, ladies, you have to pretend to be a dude, but you can't keep your secret hidden for long.

It's all good, because in the end, everyone has somebody to love, and they look great too.

Now, Minnie and Mickey. What is their love story, exactly? They've been an item for a long time. What's their secret for a long-term relationship?

Mickey and Minnie are definitely a G-rated couple, though -- they always have a chaperone around.

In fairy tales, the heroines are always beautiful, and the villains are fugly like Cinderella's stepsisters.

When your best friends are rodents, you know you've hit rock bottom.

How many people can say their friends made them a ball gown, though?

Of course, the gown won't last when your stepsisters find out the rodents stole their stuff to make your dress. Life is full of ups and downs.

When all hope is lost, a little magic saves the day.

One day you're scrubbing floors, and the next you're headed to a royal ball in some new wheels.

Everyone dances perfectly.

All eyes will be on you.

For a few hours, anyway.

And everyone lives happily ever after.

(If you go for guys who wear red pants, Cindy, that's none of my business, but.... You can edit his closet after the honeymoon.)

Thanks to the generous and good-looking people at Mom Central and Feld Entertainment (which puts on the Disney on Ice shows), my family got to see the show and give away tickets to a lucky family. If you want to see the show, you can get a four-pack of tickets for $44 at Ticketmaster if you use the coupon code MOM. The MOM coupon code is also good for $4 off any weekend show.

Princess Classics will be at the BankAtlantic Center on the following dates:

Friday, September 18: 7:30pm
Saturday, September 19: 3:30pm, 7:30pm
Sunday, September 20: 1:00pm, 5:00pm

And at the American Airlines Arena in Miami:

Wednesday, September 23: 7:30pm
Thursday, September 24: 7:30pm
Friday, September 25: 7:30pm
Saturday, September 26: 11:30am, 3:30pm, 7:30pm
Sunday, September 27: 1:00pm, 5:00pm

The birthday cake that ate South Florida

2009-09-17T00:27:00.004-04:00

Normal people, when faced with a child's birthday party or other celebration, head to a bakery, order a cake, and return home to the comfort of Facebook.

Other people who are not normal and are named Holly, when faced with a child's birthday party, spend an hour scouring Web sites for the perfect themed cake pan, then spend a few more hours baking cakes in the cake pan and trying to decorate the cake, then get so sick of eating the failure cakes that they never want to see another cake again as long as they live. Then they pour over magazines and books, hoping to glean some inspiration (and truthfully some instant talent) in cake decorating with which to impress the birthday child. They visit craft stores and sites online looking for and blowing money on cake decorating supplies. They start hoarding boxes of cake mix when it goes on sale at the supermarket.

All in vain.

My son's birthday party is Saturday. And for some reason, I thought I could make the cake. Now I am fa-reaking over it. Especially because around 70 people are coming. (Note: the rule about how only a third of the people you invite show up to a party? Not always true.)

So these days, you can find me in the kitchen rather than online. Add a baby who doesn't like to sleep much at night anymore (but who is rather cheerful about it), annoying bouts with headaches and pesky chores like showering, and my online life takes a back seat.

The Man-cub's birthday party will be super fun, but I will be glad to have my life back.

Beachcomber

2009-09-16T07:27:00.000-04:00

How to spoil a 3-year-old for his birthday

2009-09-11T13:52:00.022-04:00

For the Man-cub's third birthday this week, we had a long weekend full of fun events. Because life has mainly been about his baby brother the Bug lately, we wanted to spoil the big brother a little.

We went out for frozen custard last Friday night.

Then on Saturday, we went to train heaven, aka the Gold Coast Railroad Musuem, and rode in the engine of a train on a short ride. Thanks to watching Thomas the Tank Engine DVDs, my son insisted that we were going to crash or at least run off the track. No such calamity occurred, though.

Retired with new lives as on-board museum displays

This is only half the room full of Thomas the Tank Engine play tables

Elaborate model train displays

Big ol' grandaddy engine

Umm ... OK

On Sunday, we went to a local bikes 'n' blues event for charity.

And of course, we carried out our Sunday night beach tradition.

For my son's birthday on Monday -- Labor Day -- we could think of nothing better to do than to sweat it out in the middle of the day at a local garden/zoo.

I spent the remainder of that day making cookies for my son's preschool class that the kids didn't eat. Probably.

And of course, there were presents. What is spoiling without presents?

Now we're back to Friday again, and the Man-cub is still a happy guy.

May the birthday high never wear off....

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

Beach toys

2009-09-09T06:58:00.000-04:00

Don't it make my brown eyes blue

2009-09-08T21:54:00.006-04:00

Yesterday was my Man-cub's third birthday! But I was too busy sweating outside in the name of taking him to do something fun for his birthday and then making and hand-painting cut-out cookies for him to take to preschool today that I didn't have time to go online. And the whole idea of making some kick-butt cookies was so the other kiddos would think my son was a cool little dude for bringing a fun treat for their snack time. That, and so the Man-cub would feel like he was having a little party at school. Except the teachers never handed out the cookies at snack time! They went home with the kids in their bags. Something about the children needing to eat a healthy snack first and then spending the rest of their school time learning instead of eating. Go figure. My son will just have to become popular on his own. And, that will teach me not to spend all day making cookies again.

So the Man-cub won't have the distinction of being the best treat-giver-outer. But he does have the distinction of being the only kid in the class with green eyes.

That's what the eye color chart -- today's class project -- outside my son's classroom said when I went to pick him up today. Green eyes.

Green? I thought they were blue.

Well, actually, recently I had noticed his eyes taking on a green cast. But I was still thinking they are greenish blue.

And now, just like that, someone says they are green, so his eyes are green.

I mentioned this to my green-eyed husband while we were all eating dinner.

"His eyes were such a bright blue as a baby," my husband said.

"I know! What happened? But green eyes are OK. Your eyes are green," I told him. "And of course, my mother has pale green eyes."

"My eyes are lizard green," he said, the color he always calls them.

I turned to the Man-cub. "Lizards are green. What else is green? Do you see something green outside?"

"Weaps!" (leaves) my son said.

"And your baby brother's eyes are blue. What other things are blue?"

"Thomas the train!"

"What else? Anything outside?"

"The sky!"

"Yes! What color are my eyes?" I asked.

"Brown."

"Yes, brown. What else do you know that is brown?" I asked.

"A bug! And dirt!"

Great.

"Yes. But also good things like chocolate and coffee," I suggested.

"And pooey!"

I dared not look at my husband.

Do you know how many times in my life people have said to me that stupid one-liner, "You're so full of crap your eyes are brown?"

Who knew my own son would infer it one day....