Crazy Crap #269: The part where the more things change, the more they stay the same

Recently, my dad had new carpet installed. The effect was like what happens when you stir a stew that's been simmering on the stove for a good long time -- lots of delightful and surprising things get turned up from the bottom of the pot.

And so it was that a precious cache of old preschool- and elementary school-era documents of Peterson family history were rediscovered. Here, I record one of the most unexpected finds: My mother's "observations" of first my sister and me in preschool, and then me, solo, once my sister had departed for kindergarten. My mother's observations are occasionally punctuated by responses from the teacher. I've opted not to include my own retrospective commentary, but will let the document stand.

ALHAMBRA CITY HIGH SCHOOL DISTRICT
PARENT-CHILD OBSERVATION CLASSES

9/27/1968

Liz: 44 mo.

Kay: 25 mo.

Both girls were excited and looked forward with great anticipation to school. They picked up their room quickly which is unusual.

9am

They both played actively with the toys and mixed well. They painted and then went into the playhouse area which they seem to really enjoy. Good imagination, very busy and industrious cook. Mothers, etc.

9:45am

During story time E[lizabeth] was very good and quiet – Kay was good also but had a little more trouble staying on rug.

After juice (which they drank – will not at home) they returned to room. E immediately went to playhouse area and joined a group of girls there. Kay wandered about enjoying the freedom and different toys. Liz stayed in playhouse and made a friend – Kay started building with large blocks.

10/4/1968

Liz: 44 mo.

Kay: 25 mo.

9:20am

Great anticipation last night and this morning. They were good this morning and Elizabeth almost dressed herself completely. As usual E headed for the playhouse area which she loves so. She is being friendly and sharing well. Kay drifts about doing various things, happy and busy.

Kay became angry today when not allowed to go outside – she did not sleep well at all and has just been terribly grouchy about everything. [Teacher’s note: Well, it was darn grey (?) and the weather ought to be ashamed of itself!]

Outside playtime perked Kay up – better natured – went into rest time real well.

10/11/1968

Liz: 44 mo.

Kay: 25 mo.

9:30am

Both happy to attend – seem to be in good spirits today. They painted and Kay especially enjoyed this.

9:50am

Song time – Eliz. joined in all the action – Kay enjoyed but observed mostly – sat quietly and very good!

I was told they were very good during discussion – Kay slept well last night and it shows!

11:30am

Rest time – Both lying quietly –

[Teacher’s note: Interesting to see Eliz. and Robin “find” each other today. Happiness is making a friend!]

10/18/1968

Liz: 44 mo.

Kay: 25 mo.

9:30am

Again both very happy at prospect of school. E looking forward to seeing Robin.

Kay was very annoyed at having to come inside and consequently didn’t respond to song time, etc. I think I had better try to arrive earlier so she has more outside play time. Other than that – no problem to speak of.

[Teacher’s note: Don’t be concerned if Kay cries. It’s a stable group and can take a few distractions here and there. (Kay wasn’t nearly as distracting today as my silly cold!) If she would be happier sitting on your lap at rest time, why don’t you try that way? Sometimes it helps to let them join the group activities on “their own time.” Also, thank you for being so helpful on the playground with the other children. Every class needs a few who are fast on their feet, and it is appreciated.)

10/25/1968

Liz: 44 mo.

Kay: 25 mo.

9:30am

Elizabeth and Kay both happy to come – Liz seems to be getting much more out of this than Kay. Perhaps she’ll improve as time goes on. She is good in areas now except when expected to quietly conform.

[Teacher’s note: For her age, she does exceptionally well, though!]

Hokey pokey brought her out a bit.

11/1/1968

Liz: 44 mo.

Kay: 25 mo.

9:30am

Elizabeth very grouchy this morning, guess Halloween was too much!

10am

Both were good today – Had our usual battle but Kay did rest today. They both play very well in group activities and get along with children just fine.

11/15/1968

Liz: 45 mo.

Kay: 26 mo.

9:30am

Both girls were so excited to come. I had a talk with Kay and she claimed she was going to nap, sit, etc. We’ll see.

Liz is sad – no Robin today. I am happy to see the girls are both doing pretty well in the sharing department – at least they haven’t shown too much aggression.

[Teacher’s note: “Lady Macbeth” certainly did “ring them bells”!]

12/6/1968

Liz: 45 mo.

Kay: 26 mo.

Every one so happy to come. Pretty good today – Kay is still not very good about “the Rug” business.

12/13/1968

Liz: 46 mo.

Kay: 27 mo.

9:30am

Liz was awakened “rudely” by brother very early this morning & is very grouchy. I think she’ll come to eventually. Kay all excited about coming – in a very silly, wild mood this morning. I see Liz and Robin playing on boat & she seems to be in better spirits. We have a problem with her lately – she is so emotional lately & cries easily.

Story time was an improvement – Kay joined in and behaved much better.

[Teacher’s note: Wouldn’t it be nice if everybody was as happy as Kay today – especially in the MORNING!]

1/24/1969

Liz: 47 mo.

Kay: 28 mo.

9:30am

Both anxious to come today – Kay has promised faithfully to join in rug activities today – we will see!

Week has been very interesting to say the least – the girls play very well together lately – House, dolls, etc. Not too much fighting over toys, but some.

10am

Singing and story time real improvement for Kay – she slept long & well & awake in good spirits today. I wonder too if sometimes the large group overwhelms the small ones.

During discussion both E & K were good natured and played well independently. E made friends with John & they were very busy in play house.

2/21/1969

Liz: 48 mo.

Kay: 29 mo.

9:45am

This morning didn’t go too well – Liz claims she can’t dress herself so Kay follows suit. Very tiresome and really takes a great deal out of me. We also have had some problems with Kay lately for getting into drawers/etc. – She seemed to be all cured of this type of thing so I was discouraged yesterday when she reverted to her old ways.

Seemed to enjoy today though not so cheery today.

2/28/1969

Liz: 49 mo.

Kay: 30 mo.

9am

Liz picked up all the chalk Kay spilled so we could get going. This is a rare thing for Liz to do so you can see how much school means to her.

[Teacher’s note: This class has me completely spoiled. So many “up” people all in one place!]

2/28/1969

Liz: 49 mo.

Kay: 30 mo.

9:30am

So happy to come – both in good spirits and very agreeable today – The rain did one good thing – to encourage more drawing & reading on our part. So happy to see both girls developing nicely in small muscle control. Kay drew a face recently which really impressed me.

All in all a good day!

3/14/1969

[Teachers report: Sat., with smaller group, I could observe each child better and was fascinated to watch Kay playing with the flannel board and letters. She was saying them out loud to herself (not all – but quite a few).

Maybe we should break the news to her that she’s not old enough?]

10/17/1969

Kay: 36 mo.

[Teacher’s note: Kay seems even more grown up, on her own.]

9:15am

Kay was immediately interested in paste – She went right at it – pasted with enthusiasm and stayed with it for a good 10 min or so. She is very good this way and has been a child who could stay with a project for a long time. Kay is very independent – has left Carrie and Andrew to go to playhouse area – Kay is eager to be involved. She watched the painting story closely – really was interested.

Kay has great concentration – during story time she listened and watched intently. Kay is a person who will be involved in what is going on.

[Teacher’s note: Good notes!]

10/31/1969

Kay: 36 mo.

9:30

Kay was so happy to come, school makes her feel grown up as her brother and sister both go.

She was rather naughty at rest time – couldn’t seem to relax as well as usual.

11/6/1969

Kay: 38 mo.

Books and articles read on children and family life: Still reading “Between Parent & Child”

9:15

So happy to come – Today is a physical day – She jumped on a bike as soon as we arrived.

Singing – good and involved. She concentrates so well, it pleases me to see her paying such attention. Kay has few real personality problems, though she is very obstinate at times & can be very difficult with her “no’s.”

[Teacher’s note: Well – she’s going to be such a “dish” in a few years, maybe it’s just as well!]

11/14/1969

Kay: 38 mo.

9:30

Very silly today – happy and eager to come as usual. She really enjoys school and looks forward to it all week.

We have been watching “Sesame Street” this week and I am pleased to see how interested she is in the letters, numbers, etc. – her attention span* never ceases to amaze me – especially after having had one very distractible child.

During story time she is engrossed and listens carefully.

*[Teacher’s note: She really has an incredible attention span. Guess she didn’t “read the book” that sez she’s too young!]

12/5/1969

Kay: 39 mo.

Books and articles read on children and family life: Ha!

9:30am

As usual Kay thrilled at prospect of school. She is determined not to obey lately & we have had some good slaps this week. She is good in so many ways but really needs a firm hand so she’ll eventually realize that I and not she am boss!

12/12/1969

Kay: 39 mo.

9:20am

Kay is always glad to come here as you know. In fact I tell her when she’s naughty that I’ll not take her to school & that carries a lot of weight.

12/19/1969

[Teacher’s note: Sorry I didn’t grasp Kay’s problem faster about the book exchange – and do hope I didn’t start your whole Christmas off with a bad bang!]

1/9/1970

Kay: 40 mo.

9:30am

After Christmas Kay was really ready for school though she woke up very grouchy & we’ll see how she goes as the morning progresses. She has been soooooo talkative lately she seems to have a million things in her head all the time.

[Teacher’s note: It was nice to see the “Grand Old Ladies” today. My, how they’ve come along!]

1/23/1970

Kay: 41 mo.

9:20am

Kay was really flying today & so happy to come. She is wearing one of her “special” hand-me-downs from Carrie. We have noticed the different attitude of children today towards this, they couldn’t be happier with their cousin’s things.

Our stubborn period is still on, Kay really has to be made to understand that I’ll not give in on some thins or all “hell” breaks loose. *

She is eager to help herself in many ways, & is so mature in many areas.

*[Teacher’s note: Well – I guess you know I’m not about to tell anybody to raise the white flag & just surrender – or that there aren’t some legitimate wars sometimes in spite of all, But the natural mental tendency, I should think, after deciding that one was “bossed” a bit by a 1^st child, would be to man one’s battle station for the next ones. It might be worth a try, at least, to stop playing HER game, a little, by giving as few direct commands as possible and just working on the vital ones. This sounds so simple that you may feel like hitting me with a bat, but the fact is that whenever WHATEVER you’re doing isn’t working at THIS time with THIS child, it’s often a good time to change tactics.

You said it: “She looks at me all ready for a fight” (or words to that effect). So surprise her! Why not?

P.S. But when you DO give a necessary command, take her clear to the boards if you have to! Under-mother is what I mean, with the “do this & do that’s” and all the liottel stuff we all pick, pick, pick about at times.

Just a thought, you know – and you certainly don’t have to be polite and agree!]

1/3/1970

Kay: 3 ½ years old

9am:

Things went smoothly today as everyone cooperated and helped us getting out!

She was a bit more sensitive acting, and became upset during hand puppet thing – I think she thought she was going to hold one & when another girl got to she really broke up –

Lately she won’t join the dancing which is really odd for a child who continually dances at home –

[Teacher’s note: And at school last year. She may be bored (we’re doing very elementary things.) We have a rather split group this years – the “fasts” are very fasts and t’other way around. Will try to alternate a bit more.]

2/13/1970

9:30

Very excited ab out coming – no real improvement in behavior, in fact she really acted up in church Sunday loudly proclaiming “I hate church.” She just doesn’t want to do anything she dislikes. Very independent thinker.

2/27/1970

Kay: 42 mo.

9:30am

Liz visited us today and realy is enjoying herself. Happy to see she wanted to sing for the group as sometimes she gets rather embarrassed.

4/2/1970

9:15am

So!!! excited about coming. Really sweet lately though still very mouthy. Her sass really strikes me funny which may or may not be good for her. On the whole just laughing and not getting angry seems to stop it as quickly as anything else.

[Teacher’s note: You know what? – You’ve learned a lot lately. All your work with Michael, etc., shows!]

4/17/1970

9:15am

This morning Liz was so helpful – dressed completely & quickly – she is so good this way and has a side of her personality that loves neatness and efficiency. So different from the other two. Kay woke up OK but has gotten progressively grouchy – she needs her rest and apparently needs more than she had last nite. Kay is quite shy in some ways. I’ve noticed she never asks to speak or have a turn with you – she probably will eventually.

Crazy Crap #268: The part where Google proves its worth

Yesterday, neighbor James (age 6, for those of you keeping track) asked his mother Ann if Google is smart enough to know his favorite foods. They did a search on "James Casey Favorite Foods" and, of course, got some other James Casey and his irrelevant preferences.

Another neighbor, Kevin, caught wind of this and decided to make it so:

http://web.me.com/kevinwatts/Site/James_Casey,_Norwood_Street,_Chicago.html

Google knows all! You heard it hear first!

Crazy Crap #267: The part where I recount a decades-old story, secondhand

Today, I luxuriate in the lower left-hand corner of the country, in a snug little beach apartment located above a hamburger stand. It is a summer outing with my husband and father, replete with cocktails, corndogs, jigsaw puzzles, and very loud television watching.

Yesterday, my sister Liz came out to visit, joined by my cousin Carrie. We got on the topic of recalcitrant youth, how to discipline them, and sins committed in our teens. I have shamefully few.

This led Liz to recount an incident in which she had been out late carousing, and the next morning slept in, all the while unaware that the rather large bottle of vodka that had fueled the prior evening's festivities had been discovered by my parents.

She staggered out to the kitchen to the vision of my brother, Mike, who was over 21. In his hand was a very large Bloody Mary--garnished with a large sprig of celery--concocted from the illicit vodka.

"SUCKER!" was the greeting.

In the Peterson household, you snooze, you lose.

Crazy Crap #266: The part where I compose a poem for Eamon

I have eaten
the muffin
given to you by Caroline.
I was hungry and

it was just

sitting

there.

Crazy Crap #265: The part where James has aspirations

Sadly, I now crib from Facebook. This is Ann's latest report on James, via Facebook status. It's too brilliant not to report:

James has an idea for a new TV show called "The Just Me Show." He says he would be the only one on the show, thus the name.

He would play himself and several other characters including Goggles (a baby), Scruffy (a dog), and a guy named Jazz Dancer.

Crazy Crap #264: The part where Jack sums things up

Today, as I was reading in the yard, James came out with a large, inflatable machine gun. He frantically pantomimed shooting and lobbing what seemed to be imaginary hand grenades.

"Who are you fighting?"

"The Japanese."

I expressed skepticism, and explained that the Japanese are our friends. "They made your car," I told him, referencing his mother's Subaru.

"I'm fighting World War II," he clarified.

I asked why he was not instead fighting Germany or Italy. After some consideration, he decided that the Italians would be his target.

Jack, who had just wandered out, suggested that the Germans would be a better target for his brother's hostility. "They made Hitler," he helpfully explained.

I agreed that Hitler was quite bad, probably crazy, and a failed artist.

"And he tried to kill all the Jewish people," Jack added.

I agreed, and, with his prompting, tried to explain anti-Semitism. To an 8-year-old.

We went through several watered-down explanations, variously suggesting that Hitler was crazy, was using the Jews to get his people to support him (my suggestion), thought the Jewish people were to blame for Germany's weaknesses ("Were they?" "No."), and were blamed by Hitler for his own artistic shortcomings (Jack's idea).

"And then Hitler tried to kill all the Jewish people," Jack summarized, "Which was awkward."

Quite.

Crazy Crap #263: The part where Jack shows a good deal of self-awareness

James Casey is a menace to his own person. First, there was the incident in which the bed caused a horrible accident. Then there was a rogue arrow, thankfully sponge-tipped.

We'd discussed oft and anon how these two incidents had marred James forehead in such a way that he looked like he had horns just about to sprout. "Like a devil," he'd proudly proclaimed.

Just the other day, I encountered young James, cavorting in my backyard, and noted he was now sporting a third red spot, this time in the middle of his forehead. "I'm a three-horned devil!" he announced. "I'm a triceratops!"

I questioned him narrowly about how this had happened, and he gave some vague account of falling and hitting his head. I asked if he'd been leaping about, and he admitted he had.

I noted that he was a menace to himself, and that he always seemed to be hurting himself. He responded with incomprehension, so I pointed out his many injuries, recounting how he had gotten each. "I'd say that you're accident prone."

"What does accident prone mean?"

"It means you hurt yourself a lot." Then, I started to feel bad. Perhaps I was giving this poor child a complex. Perhaps my labeling of him as accident prone would give him a complex. So I softened the blow by pointing out that he wasn't alone.

"Lots of you kids are accident prone. Gavin hurts himself a lot."

James: "I hurt myself more."

"No,Gavin broke his arm. He fell out of a tree."

"I'm more accident prone," he asserted again.

"Jack is..." Then I realized something. "You know, Jack's not accident prone. He never hurts himself." I turned to Jack. "I don't remember you ever hurting yourself."

Jack whispered conspiratorially. "I make better choices."

Crazy Crap #262: The part where I never thought about it that way

It's Memorial Day Weekend. On Norwood Street, this is a holiday replete with neighborly interactions. Being, as I am, a roller derby widow, I found myself the recipient of much fine hospitality.

While I could expatiate upon the bench-side snacks provided by Megan on Friday afternoon, or the delicious backyard barbecue hosted by the Harris-Wattses, for the purposes of this blog, I will pause only on the impromptu offer of a spare-rib dinner by my dear neighbors, the Caseys.

The dinner, itself, was delightful, garnished as it was by Jim's homemade, ketchup-free barbecue sauce and Jack's many witticisms. But a standout of the evening was a small performance by James, age 5.

In a particularly wriggly mood--and who wouldn't be, with such a scintillating guest as myself present--James enacted some very strange writhings and facial spasms that caught my attention.

Fortified by several glasses of the Caseys' excellent red wine, I said the first thing that came into my head.

"Are you favoring us with your Elephant Man impression?"

In the sober light of day, I realize this is not the question you ask of a 5-year-old, or his precocious 8-year-old brother, who will demand an explanation.

Thankfully, Ann leapt into the breach, describing the disease Elephantiasis and all its accompanying horrors. Naturally I feared the inevitable follow-up, queries about the likelihood of contracting this disease.

As it turns out, this should not have troubled me.

Upon hearing the explanation, James leapt onto his seat, stood with legs apart, fists on hips, and announced, "Never fear, Elephant Man is here!"

Then there was some booty shaking, but I think that has more to do with James himself than the pachyderm superhero he was portraying.

Crazy Crap #261: The part where Jack stumbles on a bit of wisdom

The boys of Norwood are squirrel hunting. In my backyard. This explains the sticks and rocks that have mysteriously appeared on my garage roof in the past few weeks.

This evening, a flash of white caught my eye as I passed our backyard-facing windows. Young Jack Casey was building a trap. Well, not really a trap, he explained. He had set some bird seed in a small fragment of flower pot, directly beneath a very large and heavy board held up by a stick. A rope was tied to the stick. You do the math.

As we discussed the efficacy of this engine, Jack lit upon a new topic.

"Do lots of people get bitten by squirrels?"

"I don't know if lots do, but some do."

"Have you ever been bitten by a squirrel?"

"No, but I stay away from them. "

"Do people ever touch squirrels?"

"I'm sure they do. Jon Hey does," I noted, referring to our neighbor who is notorious for hand-feeding his squirrels, and, occasionally, inviting them into his house. "But I don't. They're germy."

"So is Jon Hey germy?"

"If he touches squirrels, I guess he is."

"So I shouldn't touch Jon Hey?"

"In general, no."

Thus from the mouth of babes.

Crazy Crap #260: The part where Jack suckers me in

There are three things you need to know about Jack Casey. He is 8 years old. His favorite show is Bear Grylls' Man vs. Wild. (Incidentally, he does a remarkably adept Bear Grylls impersonation). He has taken the Dangerous Book for Boys as his own personal Bible.

And so it was that this past weekend, when we held a block party in honor of his and neighbor Emmet Calto's first communion, Jack came to me with not-entirely-unexpected request.

"You need to help me make a knife. I have the instructions. It's for survival."

In previous years, I might have jumped in without looking on this one. A knife? Let us proceed. But five years of watching the small ones of Norwood fall from trees, collide on scooters, and endanger each others' safety--sometimes with my unwitting encouragement--has led me to be a bit more discriminating in my indulgences.

So it was that I took the tactic of delay and indirection.

"How would I know how to make a knife?" I asked.

"I have instructions." Jack laid the aptly titled Dangerous Book open on the grass. "It's for survival."

I indicated that I could not participate in the construction of any knife without the sign-off of his mother. Disaster averted.

Or so I thought. Ann's response, "Sure, if Kay's helping you, you can make a knife."

This was unexpected.

So now, I had to make a knife. We examined the two proffered designs. The first, carved entirely from wood, made entirely no sense to me. "Why," I asked Jack, "would they give you directions for an improvised knife that required you to have a knife so that you could carve an improvised knife?"

Jack, skilled logician that he is, immediately grasped the paradox and agreed to follow the other design. All we needed, he pointed out, was something sharp, such as a sharp piece of metal, or a sharp piece of glass. Sighting an empty beer bottle (this was, after all, a block party), he posited that we could simply break the bottle.

"We are not breaking the bottle," I assured him, and steered him to the safer option of searching my rotting, tumble-down, rat-invested garage, now with Emmett in tow.

This promising setting offered surprisingly little fodder for knife building, so I offered that locus of all bounty, my basement. A search of said environ yielded a tile, which I broke into a small piece, and a very promising fragment of plaster which had chipped, presumably, off the wall. Emmett located a paperclip, and suggested it would make a good handle. I gently dissuaded him, as his suggestion in reality, made absolutely no sense. We gathered a few stick-like items, thinking one might serve as a handle, and nice length of rope. Grabbing a roll of electrical tape for good measure, I ushered them outdoors for construction.

At this point, we realized none of our handle options were workable, and the boys scavenged for better options. At last, Emmett brought forth the most wondrous of items--a stick of sturdy diameter and length, cunningly split by the elements at one end. I felt he had redeemed himself from the embarrassment of the earlier paperclip suggestion.

I took Jack's hunk of plaster, wedged it into the split, then wrapped the end of the stick with black tape. Emmett and Jack were duly pleased.

Jack took it from me with a palpable sense of awe, brandished it, then announced, "Let's go attack the princesses!"

"I thought this was only for survival." But I said this only to the back of his head as he skipped merrily and murderously away.

Crazy Crap #259: The part where Nolan is open to suggestions

The boys of Norwood are dinosaur-mad. "Dinos," they call them.

I try to support this craze by purchasing every tiny, inexpensive twelve-pack of dinosaur toys I can find.

Recently, wee Nolan, but three years old, was displaying to me many of the dinos he had purloined from my toy basket. I asked their names, as is my wont. To my surprise, rather than loudly asserting that animals have no names, and telling me "You're driving me crazy," as is his wont, instead, he pointed to each in turn.

"This is Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky and Ducky."

I suggested that Cocoa is also a good name.

He pointed again. "This is Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, Ducky, and Cocoa."

Crazy Crap #258: The part where April is peeping out all over

Those who have been reading my updates for at least a year know that here on Norwood, we have a hallowed springtime tradition. The Peeps Party. Long has it lived in the lore of the block since last year, when I held the first such event.

It's brilliant in its cunning simplicity:

- I buy a bunch of Peeps.
- I amass a bunch of craft supplies.
- I collect all my shoe boxes.
- I Scotchguard my entire house.
- I invite small children and others over to my house to create dioramas of their own design employing marshmallow peeps.
- Eamon looks gaily on.

And so it was that we held the Second Annual Peeps Party on April 17. We had planned to hold said event in the dining room, where it convened last year. But as the day dawned full and fair, we realized that with a few borrowed tables, we could move the festivities out into the back yard, where the children could bask in the early springtime sunshine, and I could avoid countless hours of sweeping up glitter and scraping adhesive-backed googly eyes off my hardwood floors.

In the now-vacated dining room, we set up snacks of all description, a large basin of wine bottles, and other assorted refreshments.

And thus it was that the day fulfilled the glory of celebrations past. The highlights:
- Somewhere in the neighborhood of 25 kids, with attached parents, descended up our yard for a whirlwind of creative outpouring.
- Neighbor Jim Casey helped feed the masses by bringing over an unsolicited roast, fresh of the grill. Delicious!
- We saw an array of themes in this year's displays, with an emphasis on:
* dinosaurs
* violence
* free-form

We were all tickled by a number of creative and accomplished displays, including the darling Peeps-aria pizza parlor, a peeps garden, a particularly bloody rendition of Robin Hood, a lifelike rendition of activism and civil disobedience, a bleak and heart-rending portrayal of the Civil War, a shooting gallery, and Eamon's cunning re-creation of our favorite karaoke bar, the Bong Ho.

Check all the glorious photos!

Festivities wrapped up around 6:30pm or so, and a small merry band retired to the Harris-Watts benches to bask in the glow of a firepit. For me, the spirit was willing for more festivities, but the body was weak, so I crashed in front an interminable "House" marathon until I lost myself in sleep's comforting embrace.

Excelsior Peeps!

Crazy Crap #257: The part where I wax pithy and historical

The 5-and-under boys of Norwood are taking tap class, including James, also known as Casey Brother the Younger. There is some shuffling and stomping involved.

This week, tap class is coming one day after a Casey-family visit to the Chicago History Museum, where stove-pipe hats a la Honest Abe were procured. And thus it is that James is taking his hat to tap class.

Quoth I, "Give my regards to Gettysburg."

Crazy Crap #256: Where Sailor Jack is amusing in the middle of the night

A few days ago, I checked my email first thing in the morning to find missive from my dad, sent at 3:30am. Apparently, rambling emails to one's daughter are a new insomnia cure-all. The last paragraph amused me mightily:

The Pfost's Grandson, Matthew, is marrying next month and much of the energy is directed along those lines. It will be take place in a winery in Temecula. Not even a Catholic winery!

Crazy Crap #255: The part where Ann cracks wise

Today, I emerged from my den of thesauri and style guides into the bright sunshine. My legs needed a good stretching, and the bathroom needed a variety of supplies, which I figured I could obtain at the CVS.

Upon striking out into the great outdoors, I came upon James and Ann, who were just embarking on their daily walk/scooter to school. I offered to accompany them as school was right on my way to the drug store.

As we wandered, Ann brought up the topic of the signing of the health bill (huzzah), and we rambled onto the topic of how insanely immature and vengeful several members of our government had been in their opposition to said bill, and anything else that didn't square with their personal ideologies.

I ventured the opinion that such people were more invested in acting out with great disregard for personal restraint than they were in their actual dogmas, and theorized that they were actually drawn to dogmas that encouraged and validated such immature outbursts.

Ann had a better theory.

"I think it's because the World Wrestling Federation doesn't have enough openings."

Touche.

Crazy Crap #254: The part where Nolan makes his feelings known

Last friday, I had the pleasure of attending a neighborhood shindig at the house of Megan, she who gets thirsty. The party was in honor of the traitorous O'Connors, who some years ago moved away from this sylvan paradise of Norwood to the barren outlyings of the Milwaukee suburbs. We mourn them to this day.

So it was we gathered for pizza, snackings, cocktails, and sips from the half-keg of Sprecher's rootbeer (the last thoughtfully provided by the traitorous O'Connors, straight from their new home town).

When not entertaining myself with grown-up chit-chat, I, of course, amused myself with the teasing of small children. Thus it was that Nolan, age 3, and I were were having jolly good times in the family nook. After some cavorting, Nolan took my hand, and told me, quite earnestly, that he wanted to take me somewhere.

"To funky town?" I asked. "Are you taking me to funky town?" Then, of course, I had to sing. "Won't you take me to ... FUNKY TOWN????
Won't you take me to ... FUNKY TOWN????"

Ann Casey, Nolan's mom Mimi, and others joined in, singing us out as Nolan dragged me down to the basement. There, all the other children were sitting slackjawed, watching cartoons on an enormous television.

I stood, awkwardly, for a few minutes, then thought, "Nuts to this, I have a cocktail upstairs," and started to edge toward the door.

This movement caught Nolan's eye, who adjured me:

"Kay! You can't leave funky town!!!!"

Indeed, you can't.

Crazy Crap #253: The part where I hope James is not misconstrued

So last night, as Jack was undertaking his first reconciliation, James repaired to my house for an evening of cookie-baking and general mayhem. As part of the night's entertainment, I showed him my brand-new Weight Watchers pedometer, and we spent a good amoutn of time testing exactly how good a job it did counting my steps.

Today, I received this missive from Ann, alluding to our evening of fun:

This morning I was getting the boys ready for school. Jack was complaining of being tired and James was saying he wasn't tired at all. I explained that Jack had a big night out while James relaxed and watched cartoons at your house.

James said "I didn't just relax, I walked all over and kept checking the temperature" I was totally confused by this and asked him "what temperature" and he said "the one on Kay's pants."

That is not what one wants to hear about one's babysitter.

Crazy Crap #252: The part where Jack prepares to cleanse his soul

Jack Casey, believe it or not, has reached the mature age of 8, and thusly has faced the first of many Roman Catholic sacraments, Reconciliation--also known as the scariest of the sacraments.

In preparation for this holiest of events, Ann revealed that Jack had attempted to codify and quantify his sinfulness. She came across a table he had constructed, the left-hand column labeled as "Sins I have done," and the right-hand column labeled as "Number of times." Ann noted that he had nothing written in the left-hand column, but had included a number of mysterious hash-marks in the right-hand column. Apparently, he wants his sins tallied, but not recorded.

Crazy Crap #251: The part where Jack offers sage insights into sibling relations

I was just about to hunker down and start work on a new project when I was lured outside by the siren song of hockey sticks hitting frozen bricks. The young Caseys, Jack and James, were imitating recent Olympic glory on the brick expanse in their backyard. While I in no way wish to foster any such violent, ER-tending activities, it was quite an amusing spectacle, and required further investigation on my part.

I introduced my coming by demanding to know why they were not in school, and whether they were playing hookey. Strep throat was the culprit, Jack informed me. Inquiries about his current state of pain ("Does it hurt?") received a negatory ("Not right now.")

I watched their rather lop-sided matches, all the while interjecting questions, comments and topics for discussion, such as:

- the fact it was their mother's birthday
- my new haircut, which neither had noticed. Indeed, neither could recall my previous waist-length hair when questioned. I let the matter drop.
- a comparison of our varying levels of involvement in watching the Olympics (theirs extreme; mine minimal)
- a demonstration of a new game, in which Jack blows a designated number of toots on a whistle, which signal to James a series a commands: come here, go away, freeze, etc. When Jack had finally added enough commands to have a 5-toot sequence, I queried how far this system could actually go. To wit, "28 toots mean make me a sandwich." "32 toots mean do my laundry." I pointed out that this way madness lies.
- a series of questions regarding the climate surrounding the Grand Canyon, and whether one could wear shorts in the canyon in the middle of summer.
- a recounting of highlights from a program featuring survivalist Bear Grylls, and estimations of the height of a railway bridge that had in some way threatened his life (anywhere from 25 feet high to 1 million 80 one hundred feet [James' estimate]).
- a concern registered that the very large stick James was wielding was going to poke Kay's eye out, and a suggestion by Jack that if such a tragedy should befall, Kay could always go to the "body shop." A clever witticism.
- a follow-up discussion about colored contacts and the fact that some people have two different-colored eyes.

Eventually, our discussion wound back around to Jack's health, and how he had spent his weekend. It was noted that while Jack had hunkered down with his dad--watching videos, enjoying warm baths, observing the preparation of Italian delicacies by his dad and uncle--James had attended a birthday party and gone to an open gym.

We noted that James attends birthdays nearly every weekend, and I observed that his friends did seem to keep getting older, and that he should look into that.

At this point, Jack volunteered that James had actually gone to the gym at Jack's suggestion. "Sometimes," he noted, "You like to have time by yourself, to spend some time with one of your parents all by yourself."

Cherish these days, Caseys. Soon, there will be nothing but hormones, sass, and angst.

Crazy Crap #250: The part where Norwood Street goes on a field trip

So, some week's ago, a large contingency from Norwood Street embarked upon what has come to be known as "The First Annual Norwood Street Indoor Block Party." To some, it is known as the time I got a bunch of neighbors to go with me to roller derby. In attendance: the Caltos, the Cavitts, the Caseys, the Harris-Wattses, and the Wallers (sans Genevieve). It is to be noted, sadly, that the youngest Waller, Cynthia Rose, did not wear her Wonder Woman costume, as she had at an earlier derby date.

Notable events:

* Delicious pre-show snacks and drinks with the Caltos and Cavitts.
* A trek onto the track to high-five the skaters before the bout. This is a courtesy extended to children who attend the derby. Eamon asked me to shepherd them. Rounding up my wards, I did a quick head count, so that if any of them got lost, at least I'd know how many children I had misplaced. I had 7 in total, which I feel makes me the Maria von Trapp of the derby.
* A delectable cocktail, which was supposed to be a pina colada, but which upon further investigation appeared to be a mishmash of banana, coconut and oodles of rum.
* The consumption of many snacks by one and all.
* The subsequent sickening of young James Casey who, as his mother Ann noted, had not had a hot dog in many a day.
* The slack-jawedness of many small boys at the vision of our be-skated heroines.
* A foray up into the balcony by small boys.
* A blow-out derby victory.
* The winning-over of many new, small derby fans.


Plans for a second semi-annual indoor derby-related block party are in the works.

Crazy Crap Item #249: The part where Jack has grand plans and projects

Today, Ann and I went to lunch, and she informed me that Jack had recently announced, "There have been a lot of interesting things going on in my life lately."

Ann asked for more info, and was told about:

Item 1: The Great Grammar School Graffiti Mystery
Apparently, some unidentified person had scrawled on a desk the message "I like Jack." The owner of the desk is currently out of the country, so she has been ruled out as a suspect. Since then, other scribbled messages have appeared, but their author is still unknown. Jack and his classmate/neighbor Emmett are on the job; the investigation is ongoing.

Item 2: Arizona or Bust
Jack and Emmett have agreed to travel to the Grand Canyon when they turn 16. (They are currently 8 years old.) In preparation, they have begun training. When Ann queried as to what sort of training is required, Jack replied, "Emmett did 40 roll-ups last night!!!!"

Ann: "What's a roll-up?"

Jack: "I don't know, but Emmett did 40 of them!"