Mazie
- The bike is cute. It looks like a smiley face on wheels.
- It’s small. We have a smaller house and it’s the first large toy we’ve owned that doesn’t take up much space.
- It’s light. When it needs to be moved, it’s easy for anyone to move it.
- Your kid will look cute riding the thing. Sure, your kid’s cute now, but wait till you see him/her on a yBike.
- Your kid will spend at least an hour a day riding the thing. That’s an hour a day not spent trying to kill him/herself.
- Your kid will spend another hour a day pushing or carrying the bike. Your child will beam with pride at the accomplishment and you will marvel at your excellent purchasing skills.
- Your kid can multi-task while yBiking. Who says you can’t talk on a pretend remote control phone while riding a big red smiley face?
- Your older child/children will delight in riding it when the younger one is asleep. You will smartly make a rule that the yBike is reserved for the little one while he/she is awake and remind the older one/ones of the many hours of toddler-free Y bike fun he/she/they will have when the little one is sleeping.
- The yBike works well on rugs and hardwood and it’s easy to get from one to the other. He/she will again smile at the accomplishment.
- The yBike has 4 casters that swivel 360 degrees for easy movement. Your kid doesn’t get frustrated and can easily move around obstacles.
This is my post to Mazie...
Hey Maze,
I thought you deserved a blog post from me since I’ve had the pleasure of reading so many from you. I tried writing just a regular blog post, but got all up in my head about what to say even though no one will read it. I realized that I was here starting to write because of you so I should just write to you.
It’s been a little over two weeks since you left and I’m like you, I don’t actively miss people much. It feels like you are at St. Olaf even though you are 4,000 miles away. I will see you in less than two months when we visit and between the Marco Polos, texts, family texts, photos and blog posts, you are here with me virtually. And I’m so truly, genuinely excited that you are in Spain studying, exploring, traveling to so many amazing places, meeting new people and having an adventure. And to add to all of that, so many times when we are together I feel like I annoy you with my voice or questions and when you are away we have an easier relationship. After saying all of that, I do miss you. You are my little girl and I wish you would just stay here forever with us and be my best friend. And I know you feel sort of similar. But we both know that’s not how life works and if that reality played out it would be very weird and sad. You are meant to go off and do your own things, have your own life. Thankfully I get to be a part of it. I just miss the physicality of you, the living, breathing presence of you here.
I’m not here to wax or wane about missing you or whatever, I just think that sometimes because dad is the “missing you” person one could think that I don’t care or don’t miss. I think for me the missing is just overpowered by all of the good stuff and dad’s more active form of missing, so my missing gets lost in the shuffle. I don’t want to be the person who is holding you back from flying, so perhaps I error on the side of pushing you away too much. It’s hard to find the balance I guess.
On to differetnt topics. Grandma Kaye took dad, myself and Tyler out for dinner to Martina to celebrate dad’s birthday. She ordered a glass of wine and I almost crapped myself. In all of the years that I’ve known her, which is all of my years, I’ve never seen her order a glass of anything that contained alcohol. I’ve seen her partake in a glass of wine that someone else has purchased for her or put in front of her, but never ever have I witnessed her ordering such a think unprompted. Goes to show that people can surprise you whatever their age : ). The rest of the dinner was lovely. Dad was in charge and ordered several things that we all shared. Our server was top notch and we all had a nice time chatting. Of course we wrapped up the dinner with two panqueques, cause how could you not?
I told you over text that another person was shot and killed by ICE here in Minneapolis over the weekend. I can’t bring myself to watch any of the footage that captures the shooting, but I have read a lot about it. This man was on the ground with his hands behind his back when he was shot 10 times by ICE. That’s an impossible thing to justify even if you give ICE all of the benefits of all of the doubts. Tensions are high and people are scared. In spite of all of the negative, seeing everyone come together to help those people who are scared to leave their homes fills me with pride for Minnesota. It’s truly remarkable how many different people, aid organizations, restaurants and stores are gathering supplies, money, groceries and bringing them to the people who need them.
I was at Bridging this morning and Jean (she’s your favorite one) was back for the first time in 12 weeks. She broke her ankle in early November and today she was finally healed enough to come and work. It was really nice to see her and catch up. She has a friend who has cancer and she was telling me this harrowing story about what this woman has gone through over the last month or so. It’s easy to get down about my own health challenges, but when you hear stories like that it reminds me that I have nothing to complain about and instead I should focus more on being thankful for my relative health.
Axel got home from the hospital on Saturday and the Lundeen’s had Lucas and Stella over so that Michelle and Hector could put all of their care and effort into getting him situated and comfortable being back at home. Every picture that they share of him he looks so sad. Grandma reminded me of how bad she felt after her hip surgery and she imagined that he is in similar pain. I just wish him a speedy recovery. He’s the sweetest and his path is so often difficult. The kid could use a win or two.
This weekend we are going to head to the cabin and Tyler will drive us there. It will be his first time driving 70, but he’s now driven on the highway a decent amount so I don’t think it will be too big of an adjustment. I’m guessing dad and Tyler will spend lots of time in the hot tub and I will spend lots of time in front of a puzzle…so it goes : ). Tonight dad has his book club. He listened to 15 minutes of his book and decided it was boring so it will be another book club where dad hasn’t read the book.
Speaking of dad, he got his book The Yearly Thing in the mail today. He was pretty excited about it and brought it with him to work so he could show the guys in his book club. I looked through it a bit this afternoon and came to the conclusion that he did a good job with it. I had a hard time understanding what could possibly be interesting about turning his newsletter into a book, but he could see it and I think he was right. Why is he right about so many things (candle lids being just one of the things)? It stands alone as a worthwhile thing and as an archive of the Weekly Thing it is very successful.
Well I think that’s going to wrap up this first letter/blog post to you. Perhaps I will write a few more as time goes on.
Love,
Mom
PS: The first picture I included is us at Yum a couple of days after the 20th anniversary of our first visit to Yum. Dad had wanted to go on Thursday which was the actual 20 year anniversary, but I didn’t remember that it was on the calendar and made dinner by mistake. I sort of felt like the anniversary wasn’t worth celebrating since you weren’t here, but dad was really into it. So on Saturday night we made our way there and dad took several pictures of the event. And as you can tell in the picture, I got eyelashes again. The second picture is of the vigil in our neighborhood on Saturday night. Dad and I went after dinner at Yum. It was very nice, small, peaceful and we sang lots of repeating songs including Peace Like A River. There were small gatherings all over the city.
The Lady's New Nose
It’s been a long time, but I’m finally back to finish what I started. And speaking of finishing what I started, I should probably write that post about the second part of our trip from this past summer. I know it’s long over-due and long forgotten, but I’d be remiss if I didn’t get it done. I’m thinking that will be my next “all new and exciting” post. Stay tuned for that, it just might arrive before Christmas. Christmas makes me busy.
Without further ado, may I present our new mudroom in pictures…
Okay, it’s the mudroom, but mostly it’s Tyler. This is what Tyler does each day; he gets what he wants. In this case, he wants shoes that are located inside of the awesome mudroom cabinets. So he climbs onto the bench, walks to the cabinet door, opens the cabinet door…
…climbs down, grabs the shoes, and disappears. This leaves the lady’s new nose empty and ready for a photo. Awww, isn’t she lovely.
Now it’s Mazie turn to get in on the photo action. The mudroom cabinet is perfection. We have room to hang 14 coats, house a crap-load of shoes, tuck away all of our hats and mittens, and even our cookbooks have a home. Because the mudroom is pretty narrow it’s hard to get a good picture of the front of the cabinet so you’ll just have to trust me when I tell you it’s supremely good.
Tyler’s back again and looking for an escape. This offers a different view of my handsome lady’s nose with a view into the kitchen. And just to round out the pictures, here’s a view of the mudroom just past the cabinet before you get to the desk. There is a large opening where you can walk into our old office and pocket French doors if you want some privacy. This means you can now make a circle inside our house. The kids love to circle and I’ve gotta say circling isn’t just for kids, adults love it too. And that my friends is our new mudroom and my children. The End.
The Kate Club
Mazie has joined her first social club. It’s called “The Kate Club” and it’s quite exclusive. You must be a girl, garner an invitation, and you must be willing to “eat” a leaf before you join and every day after that. The club members call it “eating a leaf” but really all you do is put it in your mouth, chew it up, and spit it out. The club meets during recess and focuses on chasing boys and doing what Kate says. The club is named after Kate since she started it and so it only makes sense that she would instruct other members about what they should be doing while the club is in session.
I’m loving this club. I’m thinking about starting my own Tammy club where each day we drink a mommy beer and chase men…and of course, do what I say.
Large Enough To Drive From The Back Seat
I’ve been a back seat driver for as long as I can remember. I think as young as sixteen I had opinions on routes, speed and general driving prowess. I’m sure I drove my mom and dad crazy; I know I drive Jamie crazy when I get all back-seat-driver in his face.
Well people, karma has come a calling. My sweet six-year-old daughter Mazie already has the signs of a mean back seat driver. It began with a general curiosity about the rules and regulations of the road. Why this and why that and how come this and how come that. This curiosity has been looking to transition to instruction for awhile now. She’s been on the verge for several months.
I’ve been getting questions like “Why did you go through that yellow light” or “Why didn’t you use your turn signal” instead of “When do you go through a yellow light” or “When do you use your turn signal”. The switch from gaining knowledge to questioning my skills is underway. She’s also begun noticing the roads taken to get certain places and I can only imagine before long we will be debating the finer points of this or that way to get somewhere.
Mazie had a significant back seat driving breakthrough this morning. For the first time ever she truly instructed my driving. At least twice if not three times, she reminded me to use my turn signal. The imaginary Jamie sitting on my shoulder was laughing out loud, but I did not utter a single sound. I merely turned on my turn signal as I’d been told. We can all use a little back seat driving from time to time.
Larger Than A Pee-Infested Bit Of Potty Talk
Mazie delights in potty talk. We have never had a strict rule forbidding its use. I’ve always figured it’s reasonably harmless and we have bigger fish to fry. And maybe since it’s not forbidden it will wear itself out.
Turns out, potty talk, at least in our house, doesn’t seem likely to wear itself out. In fact it seems to be gathering steam. I keep hoping that allowing this outlet is in some way beneficial, like potty talk is a necessary part of growing up for most kids and disallowing the activity turns it underground where you can no longer hear what’s being said.
I hear plenty of potty talk. I try to give Mazie the impression that I’m ignoring her as I’m not interested in spurring on the behavior, but momma can’t help but hear most of what she says…
Mazie and a friend have invented a teacher by the name of Ms. Twiggles. Ms. Twiggles spends her days with a terrible urge to use the restroom and nary a restroom in sight. She ends up with lots of clothes in need of a wash. They absolutely love these stories and derive great joy in spinning tales of a bladder-challenged teacher.
The other day in the car Mazie informed me that Tyler’s poop puked because it ate too much pee. I didn’t laugh or even smile, but her creativity in the potty talk world is impressive and sometimes I can’t help but to chuckle, at least on the inside.
Here’s what I’m wondering: Is my lenience with the potty talk doing anything detrimental to my kid? I haven’t read a parenting book or article that has ever addressed this topic. Yes it’s rude. Yes it’s gross. But, is it harmful? Will she end up in the long run somehow wronged? For those parents or grandparents who have a rule against potty talk, why do you have the rule? What I’m wondering is is the rule just for the adults and polite society, so that our ears don’t bleed from all the grossness, or is there something deeper going on, something that I haven’t identified. If you completely disagree with me, let me know what you think and why. If you agree with me, give me a warm fuzzy. If you are in the middle, I’m anxious to hear. I am really curious to hear people’s honest take on this issue.
Childhood Stories
Mazie loves stories; I guess most people do. She usually requests stories from when I was a kid. It’s always interesting to try and remember way back when and it’s fun too, so Mazie frequently gets her wish.
She has a few favorites, like when I got knocked unconscious after sledding off a jump and landed on a parked car on Christmas Eve, or the time my friend and I were playing in the attic without my mom’s knowledge and my friend tripped coming out of the attic into my closet ceiling and broke her nose. I thought she should just brush it off, clean up, and no one would ever know. After all, we were supposed to have a sleep-over that night and I knew all of the blood would probably result in a cancellation.
There was the time I pooped in the swimming pool, because I was having so much fun and didn’t want to get out and ruin my good time. Of course what I didn’t know then that I quickly found out was that poop doesn’t magically disappear like pee in a pool. Instead the poop starts “swimming” all on its own, the pool is evacuated and has to be drained and cleaned. Oops. Another Mazie favorite is the time I pooped out the window of my upstairs bedroom because my parents were busying showing the house to potential buyers and they were all camped out in the bathroom and I really had to go. Seriously, I don’t know what was wrong with me; I was a gross kid.
There are lots and lots of stories and they generally break down into two categories, painful things or embarrassing things. Mazie doesn’t seem to have a preference for either type of story, she’s happy to revel in either my past embarrassment or pain.
The Michael Vorlicek story is one of the exceptions to this rule. Michael Vorlicek was the first boy I ever “went” with. We were both fourth graders at Forest Hills Elementary School. A friend of mine approached me at recess one day and asked if I wanted to “go” with Michael. Not knowing who he was, I wasn’t sure. I asked some of my friends and they were all of the opinion that accepting Michael’s invitation was a good idea. So I told my friend yes, she told Michael’s friend yes, Michael’s friend told Michael yes, and viola a romance was born.
I’m not sure how long we stayed together, but I’m guessing it was a brief affair. Michael was nothing if not a gentleman. He showered me with gifts. His friends bestowed a massive heap of gum packs on me one day at lunch and I quickly became very popular. His friends also brought me a large Valentine’s heart filled with chocolates on Valentine’s Day and a gold-colored necklace with three stars. Michael was a generous guy, even if we never talked or looked at one another. Such is the guise of fourth grade love.
I’m not sure what went wrong with our love tryst, but one day it fell apart. In what I remember as our only face-to-face exchange, I said something rude, ripped the necklace off my neck, and handed it stiffly back to Michael. Who knows, maybe he dumped me and started showering some other girl with goodies. I just don’t remember.
What I do remember is that name, Michael Vorlicek. It’s seared into my brain. It’s on instant recall. Sometimes I forget the name of a neighbor or an acquaintance, but I’m always on the ready with Michael Vorlicek.
Why A yBike?
It’s now been a full week living with the yBike Pewi and a great week it has been. If you live with or know a one or two-year-old, read this and then head to the nearest yBike retailer. This thing is that good…
I know what the cousin is getting for his one-year-old birthday. Go Pewi!
Larger Than A Banana-Shaped Candy
I distinctly remember my grade school lunches. Mom would give me money to buy hot lunch, I would pocket the money, and choose cash over food. In middle school I switched to a private school and along with the regular hot lunch, they also served an àla carte style lunch. What started as a pretzel and string cheese a day, quickly morphed into a 2 or 3 pretzel a day lunch, where I brought my own money to supplement the money my mom gave me.
Turns out it wasn’t the cash I wanted so much as the ability to eat what I wanted. Once the opportunity to eat something I really liked arrived and I didn’t have a mom around to monitor my actions, I jumped on it and quickly did so to excess.
Mazie is a child much like I was. She will forgo a meal without a second thought if she deems it not to her liking, and she will eat like a large adult male if there is something that she loves up for grabs.
I’d really like to keep her from trekking down my same food path as I don’t think it’s a very good one, but figuring out how to transform her into a person that likes lots of stuff and knows how to stop eating when she’s full, seems a daunting task.
My latest plan involves candy. I know, I know, it doesn’t sound good, but so far it’s working and the trade-off seems worth it. I have high hopes that in a year or two she might genuinely like more foods and if not, well at least she’ll have better nutrition in the meantime.
I think a lot of the battle with kids like Mazie who are really picky, but don’t have a true food aversion, is getting them to eat stuff that they don’t like more than once. It’s been shown that if a person eats a food they don’t like, many times after eating that food 10-15 times they will either develop a taste for it or at least find it okay. Since I can’t open Mazie’s mouth and shove the food in, and simple tactics that might work with less picky children don’t work with her, I’m sticking with the candy.
She got a bottle of assorted fruit-shaped candy for her birthday. Each piece of candy is small and the candy is reserved only for ’earning for eating’. When a meal is served I tell her how many bites of something (usually 3 or 4) she doesn’t like she needs to eat to earn a piece of candy. Once she earns a piece of candy she gets it right then and there. There is no candy offered for foods that I know she doesn’t have a problem eating.
A couple of nights ago she had a child-sized portion of salad and ate it all. The salad wasn’t just some lettuce thrown into a bowl; it was chock-full of nutritious stuff. This type of thing has never happened before. The best we’ve done up to this point is getting her to eat a bite or two of something she doesn’t like. Now she is eating 10-20 decent sized bites of stuff she wouldn’t have touched before.
It’s made dinner fun instead of something she dreads, and watching her eat things willingly, without complaint, is a magical thing for me. You can call me a bad mother and I won’t even mind. I’ll be watching my six-year-old eat salad.
The Curious Garden
Last year I bought Mazie a book called The Curious Garden. It’s about a boy who starts a garden on an old abandoned railroad that is elevated above the city. We’ve read the story many times and I’ve always thought it was a cool idea to turn an old railway into a linear garden.
I subscribe to a blog/website, I’m not sure which it really is, called Web Urbanist and every day in my e-mail box I get their daily post. It’s a hodge-podge of cutting edge, modern design. One day it might have twenty pictures of crazy, whacked-out cars and the next day it’s innovative iphone covers or mind-blowing hotels. I usually glance at the e-mail, but every once in a while the e-mail really grabs my attention, just like it did today.
Today the post is all about The High Line. The High Line is an elevated city park in NYC built on an old abandoned railway. Sound familiar? The visual images of the park instantly reminded me of The Curious Garden book. I grabbed the book off of the shelf and read the author’s note. Turns out his book is inspired by the High Line and the wild garden that sprouted there when the railway was left unused.
Cool.
If you live in NYC have you checked this park out? What do you think? Is it as cool as it looks and reads? I spent some time on The High Line’s website learning more about the project and park and I think it’s really inspiring. I’m planning to visit the next time I’m in NYC.
Larger Than A Cat Wearing Swim Goggles
Mazie might not be older, but she’s definitely bigger than our 20+ year old cat Gypsie. Gypsie is in liver failure and will need to be put to sleep soon. Mazie has been in on the discussion the whole time and is aware of Gypsie’s fate.
It is with this in mind that she decided to make a card for Gypsie. I told her a card wouldn’t make much sense to give a cat, but after confirming that she could indeed give the cat a card, she proceeded on. She next asked me what Gypsie’s favorite color is. “Gypsie doesn’t have a favorite color,” I replied, “She’s a cat.” She thought for a second and then said almost to herself, “Oh yah, Gigi (Mazie’s friend) said Gypsie’s favorite color was orange,” and then made a card for the cat with orange as the feature color.
The logic of a five year old is awesome!Second story…Mazie is sitting on the steps and we are pretending. She is a doctor and wearing swim goggles. I ask her what the goggles are for and she doesn’t answer. After a few minutes more of doctor play I ask again, “So, you never did tell me why you are wearing goggles?” and she replies, “Cause I’m a doctor”. I say, “Doctors wear goggles?” and she says, “Pretend ones do.” Brilliant!
Tomorrow Mazie turns 6…