Hello, Summer

Forest Lake

Franconia Sculpture Park - cool place!

Three kids on a rooftop 

Nerd alert

Nerds II

Nerds III (can you find the photobombers?!)

It took me about six tries to get this shot.

Adam and Logan, cousins/friends

Ooh! I like these SOM-MORRAS!

Slumber party at Auntie April's house

You sure you want him to drive?

Dinner at Chilkoot in Stillwater with my string sisters

Adam's teacher sent this to me and I almost started crying.

Hiking at Interstate State Park, Taylors Falls

Preparing for baseball and t-ball ... counting down the days until the season starts.

I Wanna Go, To, the Kalahari ...

After this WINTERNITY, we're all so grateful for the sunshine and snowmelt. It was 70 today. It hasn't been this warm since October. I saw women wearing sandals! I saw people without coats! I saw pasty white bare skin all over the place and it was LOVELY. I think back to a year ago and the snowstorm that hit April 10 (I remember the date because it was Josh and April's birthday and I was out on the Luxury Home Tour roadtrip, trying to navigate around the city while giant snowflakes made the roads a wet, slippery nightmare) and how everyone was SO FED UP with winter and how we couldn't handle ONE MORE SECOND of snow. And when I think about the way I felt last winter, it doesn't seem even a fraction of how I feel after THIS winter, when it seemed like Mother Nature was punishing Minnesota with ridiculous temps and snow, snow, and more snow. (And yes, I said "after" this winter, because for my sanity I have to believe that last week's ridiculous snowstorm has got to be the last of winter weather for another season.) We just want to be WARM again. Is that so wrong?

At the beginning of the month, we went to the Kalahari with our good friends from Green Bay for a much-anticipated vacation. We made the mistake of going over the waterpark's spring break timeframe rather than off-peak, when we have traditionally gone. (Their spring break is actually a six-week timeframe when you count all the people traveling from Minnesota, Wisconsin, and Illinois and the different spring breaks from state to state.) Going during spring break doubled the rates and the lines for the waterslides, but we still had a blast, mainly because of our travel companions. We just get along SO WELL with Holly and Kevin, and our kids get along so well with their four kids, and Kevin and Aaron have the same interests, and Holly and I have the same interests ... including bargain shopping, drinking margaritas and/or Spotted Cow, sleeping in (Aaron and Kevin got up at 6 a.m. to work out. Um, no thank you) and trying to learn to love—or at least tolerate—running. I can sit and talk to her about anything and I know we'll be on the same page (minus some political stuff, but I think we'd even agree on a lot of those points). We have the same sense of humor, the same parenting 'style,' the same outlook on life. When we're on vacation with them, everything is just so easy. No drama. No petty complaints. No uncomfortable silences or awkward moments.

When I was sitting poolside with Holly, it dawned on me that this was the first year I was able to thoroughly relax, enjoy a cocktail, and have a non-distracted adult conversation while the kids splashed and slid and swam (and later rode rides and climbed walls and played mini golf and chased one another in the massive playland structure) all the live-long day. There is such freedom in having your kids at (mostly) self-sufficient ages. We made both boys wear life jackets, they're older and understand the rules better, and we know how responsible the older girls are, all factors in giving us peace of mind. Two years ago, I was constantly shadowing Ben in the waterpark so that he wouldn't drown or hurt himself or wander away or get abducted. [Is this an irrational fear of all parents when your child isn't within your line of vision?] I still have to keep my eye on him, just not quite as closely now that he's older and more independent. He always knew to come back to where we were sitting. He never tried to wander away. And Adam basically shadowed one of the older kids the entire time we were there, so I never really worried about him. It was nice, too, that Ben is tall enough now to ride certain rides with us, so no one was left out (still not old or tall enough for laser tag. Hopefully next year.)

This is such a fun tradition because the boys are so happy, kind of how I imagine kids are at Disneyworld. Ben was like a little wind-up toy, going, going, going, and smiling, smiling, smiling all the time. He couldn't get enough of the kiddie area in the waterpark and must have gone down the kid-sized waterslides 500 times. Adam's favorite waterpark feature was the hot tub (like his mama ... although I did go down a few waterslides, too). His favorite amusement park feature was an interactive game we played on our last day there, where we wore 3D glasses and shot skeletons. (It was my favorite game, too.) Adam cried hard when it was time to leave. He was heartbroken to be saying goodbye to our friends (we won't see them again until the Fourth of July). He moped the whole ride back, and just looked so depressed and dejected whenever I turned around that I almost felt like crying, too. "I know that it's hard when our friends live far away," I said. "I feel sad every time I say goodbye to Tonya." But—I told him—the good part about having friends who live far away is that you make the most of the time you have together, you don't take that time for granted. You cherish it. "And there will always be a next time," I said. "Looking forward to the next time will help you feel better about saying goodbye."
I may get a big fat parenting F in a lot of subjects, but I like to think I know a thing or two about keeping in touch with friends.

There's one goofball in every family.

His first ride of many.

Super proud of Adam for overcoming his fear of heights on this ropes course!

No border battle here (yet).

Ben on the mini ropes course. He loved it.

Trio of beauties.

Check out the 6 and 7 year-olds on the end, stylin' in those 3D glasses. (I took this photo of the screen outside the theater.)

500 ticket winner!!!

Last day, still all smiles.

Waiting in line for the go-karts. Hooray for vacation!

School is going well for Adam, he has a lot of friends (boys and girls), he's still obsessed with sports, and he still loves playing games on his Kindle and on my Facebook page (Candy Crush! Pet Rescue! Farm Heroes!), but the same challenges continue to be challenges. I'm relieved that he seems to be doing better with eating his lunch, but his anxiety is still pretty high. Maybe it's just wired in him to worry about every little thing ("MOM! They said on the news that a POLICE OFFICER GOT SHOT! No one told me that POLICE OFFICERS CAN GET SHOT!!"), but I have to think there's a way to help him cope with deviations from his regular routine (to avoid the dreaded meltdown), and ways to help him process information so it doesn't send him in a tizzy. I finally contacted the school psychologist after my parents went to have lunch with him and he cried uncontrollably for 45 minutes after they left (prompting a call from his teacher, who said he immediately calmed down when she told him he needed to join his class again for math — when I asked him why he was so sad, he said "I thought they were going to stay all day, like you and Dad did on Valentine's Day"), and the psychologist and I had a nice chat about helping Adam feel more in control of situations.
The poor kid throws up anywhere from two to four times a month, never has a fever, never feels sick ... it seems to happen most regularly on Mondays after the weekend, which makes me think it's anxiety-related, but who knows. (Anxious about what, though? Going to school? Eating lunch?) Since the start of the school year, Aaron or I have had to pick up Adam four times now from school because he threw up. He goes to school feeling perfectly fine and WHAM! suddenly he's lying in the nurse's office and I'm getting a call on my cell phone from "school nurse." Once the call came after he hit his head in gym class—a "bump" that was so inconsequential that the gym teacher didn't even send him to the nurse—but he freaked everyone out about the possibility of a concussion when he threw up in class a few hours later. I kind of assumed it was Adam's regular throw-up routine, but the nurse was so concerned about a minor brain injury that she basically insisted I bring him to urgent care, so I did ... (even though he was chatting away just fine in the backseat, wanted McDonald's for dinner, blah-blah-blah) and the urgent care doc did a full lineup of neurology tests and then proceeded to tell me that he "passed with flying colors." I'm glad I brought him in—better to be safe than sorry—but am NOT glad about the $200 bill. That's just the thing with Adam throwing up so regularly, I don't know if it's ever something more than what it has been. I don't want to assume everything is anxiety-related when he could be dealing with something more serious. I  made a doctor's appointment for him next week to have some bloodwork done (and have his allergies re-tested). I wouldn't be surprised if some of his old allergies, the ones we thought he outgrew, were making him sick again. (Eggs? Cow's milk protein?) I just want him to feel better. It's such a helpless feeling to not be able to help your child (your small, frail, sensitive and sweet child who would give you the moon if he could).

Ben's main complaint about school is that he doesn't have any friends. He usually says this in the morning, and usually he says it through tears. (He cries about a lot of things in the morning. One time he told Aaron he didn't even know why he was crying, he just was.) I asked his teacher because it's such a heartbreaking statement—not to have any friends—and she reassured me that he's friends with a lot of kids. It's that age, she said, when two kids will be friends one day and one kid will be left out, then two different kids will be friends the next day. (Can't they all just be friends?!) Lately he's been talking about his little Spanish buddy Isael (Ees-eye-ell), who looks "just like Diego." They even hugged one another a few days ago. Ben has made room in his heart for not only Isael, but also the Ninja Turtles. He still believes, though, that Batman is real and wants to be Bruce Wayne someday. He also calls the remote the "gremote," claims Katy Perry is his girlfriend, and tells me every day that I'm pretty, even if I'm a hot mess. (which is more often than not) He sleeps on our floor just about every night. He loves wrestling with Adam, playing hockey or basketball, making maps, and watching TV. 

This will be the first summer that the boys aren't in daycare, and part of me is really sad about that. Summer should be a break in your regular routine, thus the term "summer BREAK." It should be all about the ice cream truck and lazy afternoons and swimming at the beach and running around barefoot and PLAYING. It's more structured at preschool than it was at daycare. Plus I know Ben misses Mary and his friends, and I think he'd fit in effortlessly if we asked her to take us back (who knows if she even would, though?) ... and I know Adam would fall right back into place with Sam and Zander ... but I also like that they have this new preschool routine, and I don't receive negative progress reports at the end of a long work day, and the hours are much more flexible. Mainly, though, I would hate to disrupt Adam's "groove" because I know how he struggles with change. Thankfully my mom has agreed to watch the kids once a week, whenever it works best, and has even vowed to take them to beach on a regular basis. I'm happy about that.

I'm looking forward to birthday fiestas this month (the twins turn 30! my dear friend Karla hits the last of her 30s! Pete is 40-something! Broder is four!), Aaron and I celebrating our nine-year anniversary with dinner at Salut, then it's Easter with both sides of the family, and the last two weeks consist of overdue dinners with old friends. (Old as in I've-known-them-a-long-time, not old as in elderly.)

In Defense of Food

Last Friday, Aaron and I volunteered at Adam's school. Of all the times I've celebrated Valentine's Day in elementary school, high school, college, in my 20s, and now, this one was the most memorable. (An anti-Valentine's Day party in college was a close second, complete with beheaded Cupids, an all-black dress code, and arriving with a same-sex date.) Who knew volunteering at an elementary school could be so romantic? ;)

We thought it was important to observe Adam in his school environment—particularly in the lunchroom—after receiving a phone call and an email from Adam's teacher that he wasn't eating lunch, and Friday worked out for both of us to take a vacation day.
I felt like a giant going through the lunch line with a bunch of five and six-year-olds, even though most of what I remember from my own elementary school days seemed the same (minus the new "enter your number" system of paying, everything is electronic these days. We had plain old lunch tickets). The lunch lady was a grandma-type who wore a hairnet and seemed sweet but stern "Only one cookie, honey," the presentation of the lunch looked about the same (fruit, veggie, main dish, treat), and the brown fold-up lunch tables seemed mostly unchanged from the 80s. I guess that's one type of furniture that has stood the test of time. 
I'm fairly certain we didn't have a salad bar option until middle school—maybe it's more for the teachers?—and I know we didn't have to eat lunch in our winter gear, like Adam's classmates. The students go from lunch straight to outside, so they eat with boots, hats, coats, scarves, and snowpants on.
Lunch was pizza on Friday (one of Adam's favorite lunch options) so he actually ate ok, although we had to prompt him a little to drink his milk and eat his pears. I noticed, too, that he didn't touch his cookie. (What kid doesn't eat cookies?)
It was so much fun to sit with him and his little friends. The way the other kids were staring at us, we kind of felt like local celebrities. You could tell Adam was proud to have us there, although I couldn't tell if he was annoyed when one of his friends—Hailey—took a liking to Aaron, asking him questions, laughing extra hard at his jokes, and basically monopolizing the conversation. She decided she was going to be Aaron's shadow from that point on. (I got the impression that her mom was a single mom, based on a few of the comments she made and then a few of the things her mom said when I met her later on.) Might I add it was a back-to-the-50s themed day, and Hailey was wearing bright red lipstick, had a scarf in her side ponytail, and was wearing a poodle skirt, which made her even more adorable. (You could tell she felt very grown up.)
We stayed for recess, when the kids had free time to play outside. Adam was unofficially the "captain" of one of the soccer teams. What? Adam? The captain?
"Do the other kids always ask you if they can play? Are you kind of in charge at recess?" I asked.
"No, not usually," he said with a shrug. "I think they were asking me to play because you and Dad are here."
After watching the kids burn off energy for 20 minutes? 30 minutes? A horn sounded and just-like-that all the kids dropped whatever they were doing and immediately got into line to go back inside. Talk about a conditioned response!
The class did a "wiggle break" once they were back in the room to the Tootie Ta dance (Google it if you have little ones), then the teacher set up four stations and she had the kids form four separate groups so they could rotate from station to station. One station was about math — counting candy hearts, one was an art station, where the kids "painted" with bingo dobbers around heart outlines, one was reading, and one was writing basic words in a very short story about Valentine's Day. I took the art station, Aaron took math, and the teacher took the other two. With 22 kids in the class, I'm not sure how she would have done it all without our help, although I'm sure she has a good system by now. Boo to budget cuts and getting rid of helpful teacher's aides!! It was fun to help out and feel useful in the process, great to see Adam in his class environment, and nice to meet some of his friends.
After the class activity, the kindergarteners walked down to the gym where they did a series of dances, including the Cupid Shuffle and the Cha-Cha Slide!

I only took one picture, because he clearly wasn't happy about this one.

After the dance, Aaron and I met with the school nurse and talked to her about Adam's poor lunchroom eating habits. He won't eat cold lunch because "no one eats cold lunch," he will only eat certain hot lunch meals, and some days nothing at all, not even one bite and she suggested having him come to her office every day after lunch to go over what he ate that particular day.
"What's a good reward for him?" she asked while peering over her bifocals.
"Chipotle!" Aaron and I answered in unison.
"Ok, so if he gets a certain number of stars for eating a few bites of his lunch, I'll tell him he can go to Chipotle. We can try it, anyhow."
I wasn't totally sold on the idea, but it sounded like a start. (I still thought there may be a deeper psychological reason and assumed we'd be making an appointment with the school psychologist.)
The "eat-your-lunch-then-bring-your-tray-to-the-nurse" method seems to be working. We're on Day #4 of the new system, and he's had three positive progress reports. He respects authority, so I think the fact that he's being held accountable by someone other than us is working in our favor. I have nothing but gratitude for that kind woman, who is taking time out of her day to record what Adam eats. Yesterday, he didn't eat any of his spaghetti and meatballs, and nurse Jan was able to convince him to take a few bites of meatballs or he wouldn't get a sticker. And he did! Adam even said his friend Cadence has been encouraging him to eat during lunch so he doesn't have to eat in the nurse's office while everyone is outside during recess.

I REALLY hope this works long-term.

In other news, swimming lessons are going well, even though I miss our lazy Saturday mornings. As soon as Ben turns four, he'll be on his own in the water, which will be kind of weird for Aaron and I. It will be the first time since Adam was born that one of us doesn't need to swim with a child.
Oh, the luxury of getting a kid dressed after swimming without having to hurry and get yourself dressed, too!

Ben isn't cold. He just ate a blue sucker. (Valentine's Day treat)

We just did our taxes, and with our returns, we'll be going to the Kalahari again (the boys can't wait) and getting new carpet upstairs. Yes, folks, "I guess this is growing up."

Kirsten returned from maternity leave and within the same week, my friend Anna gave her notice. ENOUGH ALREADY! I hate that so many of my close friends have left the company ...  loyal friends who understood the nuts and bolts of our industry ... friends whose professional opinions I respect ... friends who I knew I could trust and count on during a work crisis (or personal one!) ... friends who made me laugh and shared intimate details of their lives with me and made work more fun just by their presence. (Thankfully there are still a few key players remaining.) I've seen a lot of people come and go in my nine years at the magazine, and I know certain people will stay in my life even after we are no longer coworkers. [Just like in past jobs!] Still, it's hard saying goodbye, especially when our marketing department was like a tight-knit little family for so many years.
Two of my friends were recruited, which I take as a good sign—the economy is doing better. And some staff turnover can be a blessing in disguise, to get new blood and energy in here. I'm already starting to bond with one of the new girls, who is only 23. I love her excitement, her innocence, her positive attitude. And through everything, this experience has definitely brought my boss and I closer together.

Right now my mom is in San Diego with three of her cousins, the first time she's taken a solo trip without my dad. I'm so proud of her. And envious. Right now it's a snowglobe outside my window (9 to 12 inches of snow predicted tonight!) and she's all "Let's just sit in the pool and relax ..."

Heavenly.

Ben is mostly potty trained now (still a few accidents during nap, and he wears a pull-up at night because he sleeps so hard), he still drinks a TON of milk, and he's still attached to Blankie. I don't know how we'll ever break him of the habit. He's only allowed to take it out at nap time during preschool, and as soon as I pick him up, he grabs it from his locker and deeply inhales. It's amazing how comforted he is by a simple blue baby blanket. If we ever lose his blanket, we're in trouble.

He also loves to make "tickets" in school (when I pick him up, his backpack is filled with pieces of paper), roll up pieces of paper and call it his "maps," write his name, and create abstract paintings. His Batman obsession is cooling down considerably. We no longer have to fight him in the morning over his outfits, which is nice. (Yes, he does own shirts other than Batman shirts!) He's more into sports now because of Adam (he has to do whatever his brother does), and likes to shoot baskets after preschool, play hockey in our kitchen, and play basketball in our living room (we have a small basket attached to the back of our porch door).

I realized recently that Aaron and Adam STAND the same way in front of the TV when an intense game is on. They walk the same way. They have the same expressions. They even answer certain questions the same way. Sometimes it freaks me out just how similar they are. Right now, Adam is all about watching the Olympics. He gets really excited when we win a medal, high-fiving whoever is nearby and chanting "USA! USA!" He has gym class once a week and it's always his favorite day. (Coincidentally, his gym teacher came up to us after the school dance and said she loves having Adam and Michael, his best friend, in her class because they're polite and respectful and most of all, COORDINATED. Apparently not many kindergarteners are. Who knew?!)
Adam once told me that the best part of his day is the 20 minutes I let him and Ben shoot baskets in the preschool gym after I pick them up from preschool, so it's become part of our routine. I usually sit on a rocking chair and watch. Pure joy.

Just ONE MORE BASKET, please?!?

It was tough to get them to stop shooting baskets to pose for this shot.

March will bring more dinners (including a belated birthday dinner with my high school girls), more work events (Food and Wine), a vacation (the Kalahari), a mixed-emotion dinner/night out downtown (my niece April is turning 21!), family birthday parties, and more snow. It's one of the longest months of the year, and we will ALL be excited to turn the calendar to April and (hopefully) welcome spring with open arms.

Do you wanna build a snowman?

I hope this person gets sunburned.

January has been your-skin-will-freeze-in-under-five-minutes-if-exposed-to-the-elements COLD. Before this winter I had never heard of a polar vortex. I had never heard of school getting canceled not once, not twice, not three times, but FOUR TIMES due to “extreme cold.” (I understand why the districts canceled, my point isn’t to whine about the kids not having school—I support that decision—it’s to say that this weather is breaking all kinds of records.) I find myself skipping over my friends and family’s Facebook photos where they're vacationing on the beach (I'm pretty sick of the popular "I'm-not-going-to-show-you-me-in-a-swimsuit, just-my-bare-legs-and-painted-toenails" shots) /lounging by the pool/ enjoying a lovely al fresco dining experience in tank tops and t-shirts, because it just seems so INHUMANE. We have dangerously cold temps one day, a blizzard/commuting nightmare the next, and still winter stretches on for at least another two months (minimum).

But because we’re hardy Minnesotans who stubbornly refuse to hibernate, we still find ways to enjoy life. If we don't, we become bitter and hardened and angry and jealous, and that wouldn't do well for our "Minnesota Nice" reputation. (That, and it would make for a very long winter season.)
At the beginning of the month, my immediate family celebrated my mom’s birthday with a nice lunch at Granite City, followed by a trip to Como Zoo and their Tropical Encounters exhibit (highly recommend, esp in this weather!), we signed the boys up for Saturday morning swimming lessons at my old junior high, which has not changed one little bit since the late 80s (Adam hates the lessons; Ben loves them), we went sledding with my niece and nephews at my sister's house, my parents babysat one afternoon so that Aaron and I could go snowboarding at Welch Village (with friends), followed by pizza and beer at the Red Wing Brewery, my brother organized his annual ice fishing contest and about 35 people showed up, Aaron and I asked Uncle Jeremy to babysit—we ask him once a year—so we could go on a date to see Cabaret (so good, such talent! I was surprised to recognize one of the downstairs Caribou baristas as one of the actors, but have yet to get up the courage to bring it up in conversation), and Grandma Patti babysat overnight so we could help our close friend Remme celebrate her 40^th birthday at a back-to-the-80s surprise party, complete with bare shoulders, neon, big hair, big earrings, leg warmers, and way too much blue eyeshadow. Now that the majority of my friends are married, and most of them are busy bringing their kids to various activities, the big milestone celebrations are one of the few times we all get together. Old people still know how to party!!

The Esprit bag was a big hit.

My favorite photo of the evening. Who invited THIS guy?!

Crimped hair. Why, 80s? Why?

Celebrating a great friend!

January also brought the notice of another close friend's work departure. Sniff, sniff. I feel the same way I did when other good friends told me they were leaving. I will miss working with her, laughing at her crazy stories and impersonations, and seeing her every day, but am genuinely glad she landed this opportunity. Plus she'll only be two blocks away, and still involved with our work events, and still up for happy hour or dinner or just hanging out on the East Side, so I know she’ll always be part of our lives (the boys absolutely love her and ask when she'll babysit again).

 

It also brought a move to a really beautiful assisted living facility for my only surviving grandparent, which was a relief for my aunt and mom (her main caretakers), and a heartbreak, too. Is she lonely? is she adequately cared for? is she eating ok? sleeping ok? does she resent this move? does she miss her old life and routine? does she feel happy? sad? confused? what does she do to fill her day? does she even want to be an active participant or simply fall asleep and not wake up? Oh, my poor, sweet grandma. She's the only grandparent I have left and she's slipping away.

Four generations, Christmas break 2013

This month also brought a phone call from Adam’s teacher—while I was at work, talk about nearly giving me a heart attack!—to see how he’s handling his best friend’s cancer diagnosis. She said he’s a caring, compassionate friend whose face lights up when Michael is near him, and very loyal and protective during the times Michael is away from school, undergoing chemotherapy. (He saves his spot on the bus.)
"I know how he worries, so I just wanted to check in," she said.
She deserves a Teacher of the Year award. 
"He's doing good," I told her. "Thank you for calling. He knows Michael is sick, but really doesn't talk a lot about it."
Adam has had close friends before—particularly his "amigos" at daycare—but this friendship is different. He loves his friend so much. He would do anything for him, give him the last bite of his Chipotle, his best Pokemon card, even forfeit court-side T-wolves tickets to let Michael go in his place (ok, maybe not that one). 
It's really a beautiful thing.   
"He's my BFF in the whole world," he proudly told Aaron and I one night before bed.
"Do you know what that means?" I asked.
"Something about a best friend?" 
He hasn't asked many questions about cancer, and I don't offer up too much information for fear of overloading his delicate brain with scary facts. He knows what he needs to know. 

"I'm also calling to let you know that Adam hasn't been eating his lunch," Mrs. B said in a more concerned tone.
(The lunchroom monitor alerted her, so she had lunch with him one day to observe, and sure enough, he had some pudding, ONE bite of pizza, and the rest of his tray got dumped.)
"I want to be able to help him, but I'm not sure how," she added. "I thought maybe we could figure it out together."
You know your kid's lack of eating is a problem when the lunchroom monitor tells the teacher, and the teacher calls you at work. 

It looks edible, right?

That night, Aaron and I had a heart-to-heart with Adam about the importance of eating lunch. It feels like we've had this conversation a billion times. It doesn't seem to sink in. He readily admitted he hasn't been eating lunch regularly, sometimes not at all. Sometimes he will just sit there and watch his friends eat. This makes me very, very sad. 

What about bringing a cold lunch?

Argument No. 1 = “I don’t have the right lunch box.” (He has a traditional hard-sided Star Wars lunchbox, a gift for his sixth birthday.)

Fine. We will buy you a new lunchbox. I actually found two options at Target, both soft-sided. In the sporting good department, because why would they be in with the kitchen gadgets? That would just make too much sense. So ... here, Adam. Choose your lunchbox! Which do you like best?

Argument No. 2 = “I like that one but don’t know how to bring cold lunch. Everyone will stare.”

Ok, I get that. He hates to draw attention to himself, and he worries when anything is out of his usual routine. I said he could bring cold lunch on a day when Aaron or I or my parents ate lunch with him and his friends. We could show him how. (Oh, the innocent things anxious 6-year-olds worry about.)

Argument No. 3 = “I don't want to. Nobody brings cold lunch.”

I have a very hard time believing this, but FINE. THEN EAT THE LUNCH PROVIDED BY THE SCHOOL.   

He can select a PB&J, a salad, or the hot lunch, I mean, it’s not like he doesn’t have CHOICES. He won’t eat the PB&J because the jelly is different than what he’s used to eating, and he won’t eat the “lettuce” [*I can’t imagine many kindergarteners choose salad for lunch], and at least half the time he doesn’t like what’s served for hot lunch because some part of the meal is different than how we make it at home. I remember those school lunches, and while they weren't exactly gourmet, they were edible. I swear, he is the PICKIEST KID IN THE WORLD. (Or at least in the top 20.)

The fact that he's not eating lunch makes me weep for two reasons: he’s throwing away our money (the less of the two reasons for concern), and the big one—the kid NEEDS FOOD. He’s going to make himself sick. He’s already so small and fragile — he needs fuel for energy and strength, he needs food to GROW, he needs food to stay HEALTHY! Little Adam, your mom and dad say this out of love and compassion, PLEASE EAT YOUR FREAKIN' LUNCH!!! 

What do you do when your six-year-old goes on a lunch strike? I'm open to any and all suggestions.

We also saw "Frozen" this month. I love that Disney portrayed two strong, powerful princesses celebrating their differences (best used for the common good) and the shared love between them. I also appreciated two surprise twists near the end of the film.

All in all, January was a month of good days and a few "glad-this-one-is-over" days when the boys did their share of fighting and arguing one minute, then playing together, laughing and hugging like close friends the next, followed by wrestling until one kid has the other in a painful hold, ending in protests of "I'm telling on you!" and tears and "You're mean! I hate you!" and/or clumps of pulled hair. (I wouldn't be surprised if Adam develops a bald spot. Ben can be one vicious hair-puller.) January has brought with it the usual hurry-to-work, hurry-to-preschool, hurry-home to figure out dinner/dishes/laundry/baths/homework/read books/then try-not-to-fall-asleep-while-reading-my-own-book routine (it gets easier when the kids are older and more self-sufficient, but it is still exhausting). I don't crave sleep like I did when they were younger, but I do crave a vacation now more than ever!

Since a vacation isn't in our immediate future, we do our best to find fun ways to spend our weekends together. This weekend a group of friends and family will be going snowtubing and out for drinks as I celebrate another trip around the sun. I'm looking forward to having all four of us out on the hill. I wonder how the boys will do. Last year, Ben went down once (with me), got a face-full of snow, and spent the rest of the two-hour session in the chalet with Grandma Patti. Adam stuck it out for a bit longer, although it was hard to tell if he did it because he was having fun or he did it because his cousins were out there (peer pressure). This year, though, both kids have loved going sledding. Adam wants to spend all of his time outside—even in below-zero temps—and Ben has been a total daredevil, insisting on going down alone, laughing when he's landed face-first in the snow before shouting "Again! Again!" so who knows? One year can make a world of difference.

One year can make a world of difference. It can mean the arrival of a new baby, a new job, a move to a new city, a new routine, a new house, a subtle or dramatic change in health (for good or bad), or the loss of someone close to you. So much can change in such a short time. Every year we're above ground is worthy of a celebration. (It's also a great excuse to get together with the people you love.)

In the wise words of author Anne Carson:

“Come here, let me share a bit of wisdom with you.
Have you given much thought to our mortal condition?
Probably not. Why would you? Well, listen.
All mortals owe a debt to death.
There's no one alive
who can say if he will be tomorrow.
Our fate moves invisibly! A mystery.
No one can teach it, no one can grasp it.
Cheer up! Have a drink!
Let the rest go."