Enzo: sweet six

I don’t really know what I want to say about Enzo and his six year oldness.

Here’s something.  He’s recently come into his own on the music front.  He started the Let’s Play Music program last fall.  The year previous he took the initiative to get himself some piano lessons but despite his interest he wasn’t quite ready and we decided to wait and put him in LPM once he was four (that’s the minimum age for the program)

He liked music class ok and he learned things but he wasn’t super thrilled about it and by the end of his first semester he stopped wanting to go all together.  Finally he admitted “I just wish my sister could come with me,” That made all kind of sense since his class was made up of 2 sibling groups who were already friends…and then Enz. All by himself.  We got special permission for Zizza to join the class with him for the second semester and that solved the problem. Once she joined he went back to enjoying class. He never loved it, but he liked it and he practiced when I initiated practice time as long as I did the bulk of the singing.

I’m not sure what made the change but during the last few weeks his interest has piqued.  The other day he asked me if he could practice. Then he insisted on doing everything three times.  Instead of prodding him to sing with me, I have to bite my tongue because I have strict instructions not to sing with him.  (It’s hard, I really like to sing)

Do you have any idea how sweet it is to hear his boyish little voice singing “lullaby and good night, with roses bedight,” do you? I’ll tell you. It’s ridiculously sweet.

Also, did you have any idea that “bedight” is an actual word?  I thought it was a typo and they must have meant “delight.” Not that delight made any sense but lullabies are often rather nonsensical aren’t they? I looked it up though, and bedight is an adjective meaning “adorned” which makes perfect sense in the context of the song. Who would have guessed?

In addition to the singing his fingers have come a long way.  And timing. Dear me the boy can keep tempo! No pausing to switch chords!  I’m so proud.

Another thing new with Enz is that he’s playing Tee Ball which makes him feel pretty cool.

Most importantly he finally has somewhere to wear the cleats he got as hand-me-downs from his cousin.  He was pretty cut up about not being allowed to wear those bad boys to school.  He worked through the disappointment by wearing them to play outside every time the thought occurred to him.

Practice is after music class so he brings the cleats in the car and changes as soon as class is over. Well, he didn’t do that last week.

Last week he went to class completely barefoot.

He was in the back yard when it was time to leave.  I noted that he had shoes on, looked him in the face and asked him to go get in the car.  He was clamoring out of the car to head in to class when I noticed his bare feet.  “Enz, get back in here and put your shoes on,” I instructed but he assured me that he had brought none. “Whaaa!?” I said.  “But I saw shoes on your feet when I told you it was time to go!” “Yeah, but they were dirty from the back yard,so…”

Enzo has been wishing for roller-blades for the past year. Mr heard his cries and he got them for his birthday.  Roller-blades and a crossbow because who’s gonna mess with that?

Finally, here’s the to the minute picture of six-year-old Enzo. Sleeping with his hands behind his head is new this year also. I wonder if it will be a permanent sort of a sleeping habit.


Our eleventh wedding anniversary was last week. We’ve been celebrating by clearing large amounts of junk out of the house.  Also, today Mr took the day off, friends watched the non-school going kids and we went out and about all morning long. We got home when school got out and spent the afternoon getting rid of still more junk.  Junk that included but was not limited to all of Mr’s giant high school dance pictures. Who doesn’t want a stack 20 8×10’s of one’s self (or one’s husband) decked out is semi-formal attire with various companions none of whom you’ve spoken to in nearly fifteen years?

My high school dance pictures are still up in that closet somewhere, but mine are only 5×7 so that’s totally different.

Anyway.  We all enjoyed one last perusal of the giant photos before sending them off to meet their collective fate.  Ziz fretted and fretted over Roxie’s careless handling of the photos. I decided it was good practice for her so I didn’t tell her that the photos were headed for the trash.  For her part, Rox could not understand why I wasn’t in a single photo.  Every brown haired girl in the stack was put under scrutiny, “Is this you?” “No,” “This one’s you?” “Nope,” She really didn’t want to give up. She was sure she’d find me if she looked hard enough.

My favorite part was noting the awesome power ballads chosen as themes for each dance. Thanks to those commemorative photos and their black cardboard frames I spent my evening belting  “Hold on to the ni-hite. Hold on to the memory! I wish that I could giiiiive you mo-hore,” and so on.

Friends, if I had the proper recording equipment you would be in for a treat.  And just so we’re clear, when I say “treat” I mean awesomely bad videos of myself killing it on some eighties classics.   Sadly, only my family and my neighbors (thanks to the nice weather and consequently open windows) were able to enjoy my performance today. It’s a shame, a real shame.

Dear me

My bed room floor is currently in the process of being re-done.  Also, a clean half of my family is feverish.  This means that all day my house has been brimful of fumes, sickies and displaced furniture. Winning combination. No?

I decided in the late morning that the circumstances called for brownies so while on a brief respite mission (read; trip to the grocery store) I purchased the necessary baking chocolate for Katherine Hepburn’s brownie recipe.  A review of the recipe from a reliable source (read; bestie) armed me with the knowledge that Ms. Hepburn’s taste in brownies is less chocolaty than my own so I went ahead and doubled the chocolate but otherwise adhered to her instruction. The resulting treats served me well and as a result I not only survived the day, but also managed to whip up a pot of nourishing chicken noodle to soothe my resident sickies.

Another winner from my self preserving dash to the market was a box of “throat coat” herbal tea.  Now friends, you have to understand than I have acquired a taste for icky herbal teas.  Three pregnancies and a strong faith in the beneficial properties of red raspberry leaf tea have given me that.  But this tea, acquired taste or not, is good. Insomuch that I had four cups of it today between the hours of 12:00 and 3:00.  If you ask Ziz or Mr they’ll tell you the taste could use some acquisition but I honestly loved it with no reserve.  I didn’t even put any honey in it.  I just steeped it and drank it straight up. It’s mild and sweet and soothing. In the future I will drink it and enjoy it even when my throat is healthy.

Zizza and I took advantage of her sick day by starting on friendship bracelets for her to give as valentines. Yesterday we used that same advantage to make her valentine box.  Cross you fingers that my coming days are a little less hectic and maybe I’ll get the chance to write the mini tutorial I planned on the making of said box.  It’s pretty dang adorable so maybe you should cross your toes as well?

Now I’ll be signing off as all of this has left me quite sleepy.




X’s or O’s?

It being February and all we’re been making Valentines around here. Ziz and I had a discussion today about hugs and kisses or rather about xoxo.

I’ve always operated under the impression that the x’s are the kisses because the x is reminiscent of a pucker and the o’s are the hugs because your arms go around the other person like an o.

Ziz thought x’s should be hugs because your arms cross when you hug somebody tight and o’s should be kisses because a pucker is similar to the shape of the lips while making an o sound.

That got me to wondering about the general consensus on the matter.

I’m pretty sure Zizza came to her understanding based upon the Thora books by Gillian Johnson. I remember somewhere in there, there’s a letter where Thora signs her letter and says something like “Here are kisses for you ooo and a hug too x,” When I read that I thought “Well she’s got that backward,” but apparently my impressionable daughter learned it as truth.

Let this be a lesson to you, never leave these important lessons to be taught by other people. If only I’d taken the time to explain to Ziz about the x’z and o’s we wouldn’t be in this fix!

I asked the Mr what he thought and he sides with me. Incidentally, so does wikipedia. But what do you think? Am I in the majority as I’ve always supposed, or was it all an illusion?

For the time being

I’ve been dragging on the blog front. I don’t think this is news.

For the time being I’m going to focus on learning some new stuff. Stuff that will improve things here. Right now forcing myself to post drains so much energy I don’t have any left to spend on improving. Meanwhile continuing on without really moving forward compounds the whole mess.

When I have something good to say I’ll be here. When I don’t have something good to say I’ll be working on how I can make the next good thing better.

Thanks friends

Duke’s special place(s)

Recently I told you about Duke finding joy on an empty book shelf.

I wrote that post thinking it was over and done. The bookcase was moved and filled once more with books so Duke had his fun and that was it wasn’t it?

No. It wasn’t. That empty book shelf was a gateway tiny place. Since then he’s been seeking them out, wedging himself under furniture, clamoring into the dryer…It’s true!

That first time I’d pulled the laundry out and turned away just long enough to set the basket aside and he was in the dryer when I turned back.

He climbs in there and says “close it?” over and over until I drag him out so I can put the wet things in. I’ve assured him that I will never close the the door on him no matter how sweetly and persistently he asks. His response was to sneak into the dark laundry room climb in and close the door as best he could behind him. I may need to start locking my laundry room.

Last time we did the washing together he refused to be removed from the dryer. I pulled him out time and again but he was back in again before I could get anything from the washer to replace him with. I ended up piling the wet clothes on top of him and yanking him out from underneath so I could quick shut the door. Sharing the space with the wet clothes seems to have dissuaded him from seeking it out. Lucky thing too because he’d begun to notice how he could spin it like a hamster wheel and if he’d discovered that all would have been lost.

This is the shelf where we store our library books. Currently the only library material we have checked out is the one lost book. And so the shelf stands there waiting for something to hold. Duke is eager to offer his services any time.

I ask you, what shall I do with this sneaky devil?


I’m feeling reticent about blogging tonight. Last night I wrote a whole blasted post. I wrote, edited, previewed, revised and finally published. Or at least I thought I did.My computer went wonky at that point and when I got it put to rights again I found not only that my post hadn’t published but that the last auto save before things started going awry happened about three sentences in to my first draft.

You’ll have to excuse me, I’m not quite able to muster a new post yet

A word of caution

If you’re ever a five year old boy with a mouthful of chewing gum I don’t recommend stretching it into a string and draping it across the back of your neck “just to see what will happen,”

If you must have that question answered, I’ll tell you now in the hope that you’ll deem second hand knowledge sufficient to quench your curiosity.

The result of draping a sticky string of gum across the back of your neck is sitting still, shirtless and shivering while your mother massages peanut butter into the affected area and subsequently combs that same peanut butter through the gummy baby hairs on the back of your neck. If it occurs to you at the time, you may consider thanking your lucky stars that your hair was freshly cut less than a week previous.

You also ought to know that your mother will definately need to procure photographic evidence of any such experimentation before she’ll find herself able to offer sympathy or administer the necessary peanut butter massage.

Now that you have the facts, go a head and decide about your gum and whether you’re going to keep it in your mouth or not.


Friends I need your help. You see, months and months ago I had a library book. It was the last one I read from the stack I checked out that week such that I kept it after I returned it’s fellows. Then I kept it a while longer waiting to see if Zizza would pick it up. Finally it was due. I had more books checked out by then, things that weren’t due but I’d finished with so I took a stack of four or so and dropped them off while I was out.

Some time later in an email from the library, I noticed that the book was still in the list of items checked out to me. I found this odd, seeing as I has such a clear memory of returning it, but I looked around the house and car and when I couldn’t find it I renewed it and went about my business until the renewal was up whereupon I repeated that process. I kept renewing and looking until I ran out of renewals. I have no memory of seeing that book since the day I thought I returned it.

I went to the library today to clear up the whole mess. I asked the librarian if there was a chance it could have been re-shelved without having been checked in and she said certainly there was. She looked accordingly but didn’t find it. I was ready to give up and pay for it’s loss but she encouraged me to have another look She fixed up my account so I have a new set of renewals to work through while I continue my search and told me that If I still can’t find it I can submit a something or other (I forget the word) so they’ll look further into whether it really is there at the library hiding somewhere. In short, she was very helpful.

Now, here’s what I need help with. Where do I look? I’ve checked under and between sofa cushions, under and behind sofas, on all the bookshelves, under the bookshelves, in the toy bins, behind the toy bins, under all the seats in the car. I know I never took it out of the house unless you count my memory of returning it to the library. I read it in a single afternoon and the rest of the time it was sitting on the shelf where we keep library books. Please, does anyone have suggestions of other places to look? Any odd places you’ve found books in your own houses? Any crazy lost (and found) library book stories from your history that may serve to encourage me as I sift through my belongings in search of the lost?

I thank you in advance for any aid you may be able to give.

Zizza’s new friend

I started writing a different post but that one sort of got away from me.  Suddenly I realized I had at least an hour’s worth of writing and editing ahead of me and even then I didn’t know if I’d end up with something I’d want to post.  So I ditched it and started over.

Do you remember Zizza’s wish for an American Girl doll? Well, between birthday and Christmas money and some extra unsavory chores she earned the money.  Not for a “starter collection” but enough for a doll.  By the time she’d earned the money, McKenna was sold out so she took some time to consider her options and decided on Kaya.  The Native American girl.

All the other girls in carpool got American Girl dolls for Christmas so that’s what they all talk about on the way home. Ziz was practically bursting waiting those few extra weeks for her doll to come so she could join more fully in the fun. 

One friend had a really hard time figuring out why on Earth Ziz would chose Kaya.  At least three times on three different days she posed the question “So, why did you pick Kaya anyway?” I knew what she meant.  I’d wondered myself.  Kaya’s history is super cool. I can easily understand liking her books the best but when it came to dolls I would have picked one with cuter clothes. I guess I’m shallow that way. Not Zizza, she loves Kaya’s books, she love’s her deer skin dress, she loves the giant buttons on her braids, and I think that’s fantastic.

All the same I pointed out to Zizza that if she wants to, we can make some modern clothes for her as well.  After all, I told her, Native American girls who live today wear the same kinds of things she does most of the time so Kaya might as well have some wardrobe options too. She was up for that.


My favorite thing about Kaya is that she doesn’t have buck teeth like the other American Girls. What’s with the teeth anyway? I’ve never understood it.