Solstice

It's morning on the shortest day of the year. Overnight, a thick layer of ice fell and stuck on the eight inches of snow that's already on the ground. This has rendered us completely homebound, so it could easily be that the shortest day will seem very long if cabin fever sets in...

It's beginning to look alot like...

Northern Minnesota in January. The kids are loving the snow, and it's a nice change from our usual rain. But, because it's so atypical, we are now in the midst of the long wait that happens every time there is foul winter weather in the snow-plow-deprived Pacific Northwest. Back east - a little road salt and an army of plows would make this weather into merely a pleasant backdrop for Christmas shopping expeditions. Here, the roads get covered and you just WAIT for the day to come when the snow melts and the roads dry up. This could be tomorrow; it could be in mid-March.

Bad Mom alert: Notice neither of my children has boots. Neither do I. What's my problem?

Misery, thy Name is PINEAPPLE

Here is a photo of my last happy pineapple-eating experience. Now, here is my story: I am, for the most part recovered from the food nightmare that was last week, and I will share this information as a Public Service Announcement in the hopes that I will be able to save one other poor soul from the godawful pain that I have experienced in the last week.

Last Sunday, not yesterday, but the week before, I was in Costco shopping around for the usual - a giant box of oatmeal, a few flannel shirts, a 40-pound bag of dog kibble and a case of spendy Italian fizzy water. My eyes wandered, as they are wont to do, and landed upon a display of perky looking whole pineapples direct from Costa Rica. My mind flashed back to happy days spent lolling about the house in Molokai, drinking coffee in the morning and tossing back oversized chunks of juicy pineapple. I thought it would be fun to spend the $3.89 to allow the rest of my family to share in the joy-inducing flashback.

The next morning, Maggie woke up and said, "Mama, I want to watch a show." I said, "How about we have something to eat instead. Would you like some oatmeal??" She said, "No, I want some of THAT" - pointing, of course, to the pineapple on the kitchen counter.

"SURE!!" I said, and whipped out the giant kitchen knife. In no time at all, I had sliced, diced, divvied up pieces... Well, shortly thereafter, my mouth began to feel as if I had either stuck a hot poker between my lips and sucked on it like the wrong end of a mammoth lit cigarette or contracted some rare disease that involved turning my spit into caustic acid and my taste buds into tiny sponges. Eating became something to be dreaded. Suddenly, before putting anything in my mouth, I did a quick mental assessment of it's potential crunchiness (because things like chewed crackers felt like they were cutting into my tongue) and it's approximate acidity. Wine? Too acidic. Tomatoes? No. Spinach? No. Even milk - "Lactic acid? Will that hurt?"

So, as we know, Google is our friend. I searched "tongue pain" - and soon, without prompting, saw the word "pineapple" - Until then, I had not traced the potential cause of the misery - I didn't know if I was contagious. I didn't know if it would ever get better.

Apparently, pineapple - especially unripe pineapple - has something in it called Bromelain, which can be used as a meat tenderizer, and I had tenderized my tongue (well). When I say that I will never eat pineapple again, I am not being overdramatic. I read that I could expect the pain to last from 7-10 days, and it did. I went to Costco this past Saturday. Somewhere between the electronics and the cheese, I saw a kind-looking middle-aged man with a fresh pineapple in his cart. I seriously had to (silently) yell at myself inside my head to keep me from throwing my body into his cart and covering up that pineapple like it was a live grenade. I wanted to save the man, but then I realized that I wouldn't be able to do that if they kicked me out of the store for harassing the other customers. So, I let him go and I said a little prayer for his tongue health.

Bounty of the Pacific Northwest

The other night, I was wandering around Fred Meyer before dinnertime while Jay stayed home with the kids. I was unenthusiastically approaching the seafood counter to see what might tempt me when the seafood lady made a storewide announcement - "Good evening, Fred Meyer shoppers. Tonight in our seafood department, we have some great dungeness crab for $2.99 a pound. Come over and pick some up for dinner!"

I did not grow up a seafood lover nor do I have the innate appreciation for all foods native to this part of the country that those born here often possess. I did not eat any seafood besides canned tuna and fish sticks until college - but I have come around, and as I approached the plump crabbies sitting on ice behind the counter, I started to salivate just a little.

I called Jay, who suggested that we get 3, knowing that the girls would not eat crab but figuring that we might want a spare. I brought them home (all $13 of them or so), steamed them over a little thyme and fresh lemon, grabbed a big bowl and a nutcracker and got to work prying out the huge, tender, tasty chunks of crab meat (no dipping in butter required for these guys).

I got mine for $2.99 a pound, but here's a link I found where you can get four 2-pound crabs delivered right to your door for only $140. This does not include $15 shipping. Yeah, you'd really want to be sure to enjoy those crabs.

I didn't pause to take a photo before we ate - I had to dig in while it was hot! I got a photo online (Photo courtesy PDPhoto.org) that shows the succulence!

I'm feeling quite spry. Thanks for asking!

Mags is just sitting eating a yogurt while I mess around at the laptop. Just to keep my finger on the pulse of the morning, I ask: "How are you doing, Mags?"

Mags: "I'm just eating my yogurt."

Me: "I know. I asked HOW you're doing, not WHAT you're doing."

Polite Mags: "Oh! I'm doing very well, thanks! And you?" (In her most proper and articulate British accent)

Cranky Monday - Bah Humbug.

I am going through a phase where the thought of spending entire days with the girls makes me cranky. I can identify why this is. Let me use today as an example:

6:45 AM - Coffee is brewing. Maggie emerges from the bedroom part of the house. "Hi Mama! I want to watch a show."

Me: "Good morning, Mags. Did you have a good sleep?"

Mags: "Yes. Can I watch the first Princess Diaries?"

Me: "Not right now, Mags. We need to have breakfast. Maybe read a book. And get dressed. We could draw on the chalkboard... or make Christmas cards!."

Mags: "I want a cookie, and I want to watch a movie on the television."

And, so, here you have it. It is still black as a pit outside, and before ingesting ANY coffee, I am faced with a choice: Give my child (and later, of course, her younger sister) over to the television for a big chunk of the day OR say NO to the TV and face not only the wrath of a four-year old (and her surprisingly creative attempts to act out passive aggressively in response to the fact that I have dared to assert my parental will upon the house) but also the challenge of entertaining them both by myself for the entire day.

Today: NO TELEVISION. (Grrrrr!!!) I made the decision in part because I knew I had to teach Jazzercise tonight, and I am pretty sure that once I leave for class, the TV goes on pretty quickly. And really, it's getting a little ridiculous. I have one of those children who can recite more movie lines than I can. Someday, a cute boy may find her ability to quote Shrek after burping appealing... ("Better out than in - that's what I always say!") BUT, wait, who am I kidding - that'll be the geeky boys who think quoting movies is cute - but I digress...

So, without the TV and with Ellie added to the mix, it's just a matter of time before Ellie is screaming like her fingernails have been forceably removed from her little hands because her big sister has (choose one: stolen her stuffed monkey, fed her breakfast to the dog, refused to kiss her on demand, turned her bedroom light off without permission, tried to give her an injection with a ballpoint pen, told her that she needs to go sit in the naughty corner.) While she cries, Maggie will either be standing a foot away from my face with her hands on her hips screaming, "Mama!!! Tell Ellie to BE QUIET!!!" or she will be hiding under a comforter/under the desk in the office/in her room with the door closed with a cough drop/my makeup/a package of Smarties from KinderCare because it was Lauren's birthday and it was in the treat bag her mother supplied to every pre-schooler in the building. Then, certainly, there will be magic markers (often Sharpies) - and probably tape, perhaps glue, and very likely scissors (probably not the kids' kind). Princess dresses will be donned, spilled upon, cried over - and on extra special days - peed or crapped upon. If said dress is soiled, there will be a complete and very emotionally draining (for all involved) breakdown when it is not available to wear at naptime. Lunch will not be cookies and candy canes, so I will again be vilified before naptime. Then, hopefully, we will eat something and Ellie will need a new diaper. The need for a diaper change gets us all into the back of the house, and then it's a relatively easy transition to books, songs, naps and my inner countdown until Jay comes home, we eat dinner, I go out for an hour or so of freedom at Jazzercise and return to a hefty glass of wine.

I do clearly remember days during the summer when I felt like a good mom on non-KinderCare days. On those days I know we had reading time, craft time, outdoor exercise time, nutritious lunches - even morning and afternoon snacks. EVEN, dare I say, field trips - anyone remember posts about blueberry picking or picnic lunches at Lewisville Park? Well, that stuff's in the crapper in December. I must go to bed now: I have just finished my wine in total silence after getting home from class to make sure Mags didn't hear me and call me into her room to tell her a story and snuggle (read: suck me into the great black hole of time and bedtime procrastination) before she goes to sleep. Trust me, I enjoy a snuggle as much as the next girl, but her father is completely capable of providing her with all of the story-reading and affection she needs to get off into Dreamland. Seriously.

Direct Line to the Big Guy

I am enjoying parenting right now. I don't usually play alot of mindgames with the tots, but I am finding it refreshing to keep my cool and pull another authority figure into the equation this holiday season. I doubt I'm causing permanent damage...

This afternoon, Mags had a shower in our bathroom and then sat on our bed trying to avoid having me comb out her hair before naptime. Rather than fighting her, I was ignoring her antics and doing a sodoku puzzle on a little bench near the floor. All at once, I heard the sound of well, I wasn't sure what - you could tell there was a little friction - and that the noise was of the nefarious variety. It was definitely the sound of naughtiness in action, or, in common terms, blue ballpoint pen on 400-thread count pillowcase.

As I sprang from my bench to see what was the matter... my darling, wrapped in her pink butterfly towel, threw herself into the fetal position among the pillows, knowing that no good was about to come of her actions.

There was only one thing for a mama to do: Call Santa.

"I'm sorry, Mags, but you know that I'm one of Santa's helpers, and it's my sworn duty to report these types of things to him. That's how he knows who to put on the naughty list and who goes on the nice list." I picked up the phone and dialed.

"NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!! Don't call Santa!!! I don't want coal for Christmas! I want Santa to bring me TOYS!!!!!"

"Well, I'll see what I can do, but this is a pretty serious offense." Then Santa and I had a little conversation about how surprised we were that Maggie would be so flagrantly disrespectful and naughty so very close to the big day. While we spoke, Mags waited - eyes bulging, tears nestling into the corners of her eyes.

After I got off the phone, Maggie wanted to know if Santa was still coming to our house and if so, was he planning to bring her coal. (I am as certain as I can be that she has no concrete knowledge of what coal might be, but it's working for us.) I told her that I didn't know - it would depend on how she acted between now and Christmas and whether or not there was a big ink stain on the pillowcase when he came to visit.

So, it was a somber and repentant Maggie that let me comb through her gnarled hair. But, she recovered in time to beg to wear one of my nighties for naptime. As she got dressed, I went into the laundry room to douse the pillowcase with Spray and Wash. She came in, whining - "The straps are too long! I need you to fix them!"

"Maggie, for goodness' sake! Can't you see what I'm doing here?! I'm trying to clean the pillowcase and SAVE CHRISTMAS! You'll have to dress yourself."

When we got into her room and I was snuggling her into bed for nap, we heard the sound of Jay's footsteps in the house. Mags grabbed my arm - "DON'T ASK PAPA!!!"

"What?"

"Don't ask Papa that I was naughty!"

"You mean don't TELL Papa that you were naughty?"

"Yes. Don't tell Papa!"

...as if Papa is the one who helps Santa out around this house.

Preschool Question of the Day

First off, let's just say that today is pajama day and Mags asked me to take her picture at KinderCare. Since she usually screams "NO PICTURES!" and hides her face, I obliged, and here she is. Now, the answers to the daily question at KinderCare always amuse me. Maggie's answer almost always comes toward the bottom of the list and is a totally appropriate response. For example, the previous day's question was: "What does a dentist do?" Maggie, being very thoughtful and logical said, "He fixes your teeth."

I very clearly remember when I was younger that I was described as "the girl who never has to ask questions and look stupid because she knows that if she waits long enough, someone will ask the questions that need to be asked, and then she'll find out what she needs to know and it will look like she knew all along." I have to admit that this was 100% true about me - although I think I've lightened up alot with age and now can enjoy the occasional publicly clueless moment.

That is why I was SO VERY EXCITED AND PROUD yesterday when I saw that Maggie answered the question FIRST(!) and (I'm totally sure) with enthusiasm. We've been watching the movie "Elf" ad nauseum lately, and seeing her answer made me think of when Buddy bursts into his dad's office in the middle of the very intense Miles Finch meeting and exclaims "I'm in love! I'm in love! And I don't care who knows it!!!" You see, yesterday Maggie was wearing a new pair of pink fleece pants that she loves, and I'm pretty sure she just wanted to talk about them. So, the answer was PRINCESS PANTS!!! And who cares about what the question was?

(I do think the entire class gave answers great to this one...)

Waiting for Jay to Come Back with the Bed

Now that I don't have any happy Hawaii pictures to post, I've been slacking. How do you really follow a trip like that? So, now it's Sunday afternoon and we're trying to get the kids to nap - Right now I'm ignoring the sobbing that's coming from the other end of the house. It's crocodile sobs anyway. We started the day relatively aimlessly - well, I stole the Sunday crossword out of the mailbox and snuck off to Starbucks in the early morning fog while the family slept, and then Jay went to Ric's to cut some trim pieces for the outbuilding when I dragged myself back home. Maggie suggested lunch at IKEA, so off we went, arriving early enough to avoid the noon rush at the cafeteria. I'm tellin' you, $2.49 per kid and more food than they can shove down their little pie holes is NOT BAD. (Did I mention my love for IKEA? I love IKEA. Love it. I love it so much, I can actually tell you the NAMES of the products I'm buying/have bought for the outbuilding. Portis hat rack anyone? Grundtal towel racks?)

The sun is shining, it's warm and all is right with the world - except for the sobbing, previously noted. Since it's so nice out, I won't even go down the road of describing Maggie's well child visit at the pediatrician's earlier in the week - actually the trauma of it is partly what's kept me from posting, but we are relatively well recovered - physically, mentally... well, the emotional scars may stick around for a few more years, but I'm sure we'll all be fine eventually.

On a lighter note, every day at KinderCare, the teacher asks Maggie's class a question and then records every answer on a piece of flipchart paper which is then posted on the wall. They are currently "studying" their community. One of the questions was, "What's your favorite place to eat?" Some kids said, "at home." Others, "grandma's." There were "my friend's house" and "McDonald's" and "the pizza place." Do you know what Mags said? "The Coffee House." Let's just envision that Starbucks manages to survive the economic downturn. If they do, they've got one loyal 4-year old lined up for her own personalized Lifetime Starbucks Gold Card, and her name is MARGARET. Of course, I like to tell myself that Maggie enjoys eating at Starbucks most because it's time when the two of us sneak out early on the weekend and go have quality time alone over some steamed milk (for her) and a big cup of coffee (for me). It's time with me that she loves, right? Not just that I let her have milk pumped full of vanilla syrup...

The crying has subsided, so I think I may steal Jay's glass of wine that he has carelessly left on the counter. He's down the street retrieving the platform for the bed in the outbuilding. Once a place has a bed and a working toilet, it's almost as good as finished, right?

A Night of Gershwin

Jay and I got out Saturday night to go to the symphony, and really enjoyed a light meal and the first half of the performance. See this link for a review. Looks like we were right when we decided the second half would probably be a let-down after the highlight of the night (no dis to Rachmaninoff). Guess we made the right choice to go home, return our babysitter to her house and get to bed. Because we are old and must be to bed before 10:30. But wow, Thomas Lauderdale was fantastic.

Molokai - The End of the Trip

Col: I kind of like how the water line is not quite horizontal in this picture. That's because I had to set the timer and balance the camera on a coconut. Didn't think to bring a tripod, and it's okay that your coconut is not exactly perfect when you're using it as a camera stand.

Col: Packing and packing and hoping I didn't go over the weight restrictions on the big suitcase. I won't miss the pounding surf outside my window at night - like Mags, I find it keeps me up. Jay has the girls at the beach out back while I shove everything into bags - trying to protect seashells and keep the stuff we'll need to placate the girls on the plane tonight available. We have to be out by 10 in the morning and our flight's not till 7 tonight and on a Sunday in Molokai... I'm not sure how we're going to keep our sanity, let alone feed ourselves. Fortitude.

Day after the last day:

Jay: The last day wasn't so bad (considering it could have been a disaster). We did eventually get out around ten and I had a good talk with the housekeepeer, who told us a little more about how the cottages were run (she does a lot of the day-to-day stuff). It would be awesome to be able to stay in a place like that for the season and then have someone like her run the place while you're gone. Oh well.

The last day was spent mostly at On'e Alii Beach (version I to be precise). Not my cup of tea but the girls loved it. The water was about 80 degrees and there was minimal surf. They really tired themselves out in what was one of their best (and most active) beach experiences. We had enough time to waste to allow us to drive to the west side of the island again. We continued way past Papohaku Beach (the three mile long beach) to the end of the road. I believe the beach there is commonly called "Dixie Maru."

Thank god we went because I had completely written off the entire west side. That beach was awesome! Definitely another reason to come back. It was also the most crowded beach: there were at least ten other people on the beach when we were there (See the photos above of the beach and the parking lot).

After a quick stop at the Molokai Pizza Cafe (best dining in town - and kiddie cars!), we started "The Journey." Actually, it wasn't all that physically draining for me since both girls decided I had contracted Hansen's Disease and would not come near me for almost the entire flight. Ellie threw a fit that could easily have been diagnosed as a grand mal seizure. Fortunately, screaming at the top of her lungs for ten minutes after almost 14 hours without much meaningful sleep meant a hard crash on the plane. Col had to contort herself into unnatural positions to support both girls but she proved up to the task and was even a good sport about driving me into work this morning.

Work: I've had two people call me Grizzley Adams and one person called me a Yeti. The entire system office is wondering what kind of relaxed dress code Cam is maintaining in Legal Services.

I missed my birthday cake at the office.

Col: I agree that the last day was actually pretty fun - applying the whole laid back "we're not in a hurry to get anywhere" mentality. Kind of important when you have nine hours to drive to an airport that's 15 miles away. Jay neglected to mention the casualty that occurred at On'e Alii Beach - After we had enjoyed finishing off our Pipeline Coffee Porters, I was following the girls around taking some pictures (because that's what I do), Ellie dropped her glasses on the sidewalk leading to the little wahines room. And then I stepped on them. And broke them.

The flight from Molokai to Honolulu was great fun for Ellie - Maggie sobbed the whole time, "I don't want to leave Molokai!!! I want to go back to our green house!!!" We just kind of let her serve as our family spokesperson. Jay and I kind of agreed that there's nothing we were really psyched to run home to. We'll be back.

The wait for the flight to PDX was long - and the girls got visibly more and more exhausted so that by the time we got on the flight, the breakdown from Ellie was not a total surprise - it was just a matter of how one of them was going to decide to express her exhaustion to the world. It was really not fun to contort myself as Jay described above - at one point, I actually tried making myself comfortable in the 8-inch-wide foot area below the seats, as the girls spread out to fill every inch of seat room. At least they got some rest. Next time, we'll definitely try to avoid the red-eye - even if it means getting ourselves to Maui for a night or something and flying from there. Really glad we kept this little journal! (Thanks for indulging us by putting up with all of these posts... Kind of feels like now that I've got it all on the blog that the vacation is really over. Bummer.)

Ellie can be Ariel...

What?!?! Yesterday, the girls were playing and I said something about being a mermaid, and Maggie announced that Ellie could pretend to be the Little Mermaid. (If Maggie made the rules, she would only allow Ellie to play with toys she didn't want anymore and pretend to be princesses that she classifies as minor royalty...) This power shift is far bigger news at our house than the election results: the sleeping princess raised by fairies without knowing her true birthright has replaced the finned redhead from under the sea at the center of Maggie's universe.

A few weeks ago, as America started receiving its holiday gift catalogs, we got one from a company called eToys. Maggie saw it, perused it, and selected the page of her dreams. (This is how she talks these days - "Mama, will you be the prince of my dreams?") So, she's obsessing about the Disney Princess Sleeping Beauty Styling Head Vanity Set and Accessories. And the Disney Princess Royal Cash Register. And the Disney Princess Shoes 4-Pack - basically, she's chosen page 82. All of it.

She carries her catalog with her wherever she goes. Today when I picked her up at KinderCare, Ms Danielle said, "Maggie and I looked through her catalog today. She flipped through all of the pages until she got to the one she liked, and then she just sat there stroking it." Needless to say, Santa's gotta come through with the vanity with the little styling head or the world will end before 2009. So, Santa's elf who lives at our house did a little research and found that the vanity which lists for $89.99 in the eToys catalog can be had for $30 LESS at Target. (Yay, Target!) So, it's already hiding somewhere at our house. But, back to the point.

Ariel reigned in this house for a LONG time. Maggie's first true love in Princessdom. But no more. Now, instead of lying face up in the bathtub and arranging her wet hair around her head like a floating mane of mermaid locks, she lays out a blanket on the floor, lies down, covers herself with another blanket, lies frightfully still, closes her eyes and calls me to come be the Prince of Her Dreams, kiss her and wake her up. (In this photo, note the tiara that she got yesterday at the dentist resting on her little blonde princess head.)

I never actually returned the Sleeping Beauty video that I got at Costco last month because I had a little inkling that she might come around. Fun times here. I think this year I'm just going to give in to the whole princess thing and allowing us all to embrace our girly sides. Ack. The only little thread that I'm hanging on to is the fact that at least she's not pretending she's Barbie. And she doesn't know anything about High School Musical. Or Hannah Montana. God help us.

Cracking the Nut that is My Daughter's Mind

When we got home from Hawaii, Maggie started doing this totally weird thing every time we tried to put her to bed. We'd get her ready, and then she'd go into this frenzy, emptying her room of pretty much anything she could get her hands on - clothes that were on the floor, random books, small pieces of furniture - even wayward ponytail holders. It was just a bit disturbing in a "what's wrong inside her head" kind of way. We tried things like, "If you leave it in the hall overnight, it will be gone in the morning..." and she'd say, "Okay, I don't want it anymore." This was true of things that had value - both sentimental and $$$. For those things - say a special handmade quilt, when I asked if for sure she wanted me to get rid of it, she'd say, "Can you please put it somewhere safe for me in case I want it when I get bigger?" So, there's a bunch of stuff that's been put away for safe keeping - all the while, Jay and I have been mystified over what seemed to be our daughter's desire to live out her preschool years in the style of a monk who's taken a vow of poverty.

Last night, she said something that stopped me dead in my tracks, made me sit down on the spot and have a Mommy A-Ha Moment: She told me she's been cleaning out her room to make space for her big girl bed. I asked her to repeat herself. She did. If I had been videotaping my face, I'm sure that a giant lightbulb would have appeared over my head. When we were in Hawaii, she and Ellie slept in twin beds (when they weren't sleeping in our bed with us...) I have been floating the idea of a full bed to her - her toddler bed converts - and I guess she just decided to clean the kid stuff out and get the ball rolling. Whew. She's not totally weird.

Although... on a different topic, we went back to the dentist today with the completely ambitious and crazy goal of getting her teeth polished AND x-rayed. We dropped Ellie at KinderCare and drove over. Mags was EXCITED because she actually had a positive experience the last time we were there (she got lots of cheap toys from China, but it's all about quantity, not quality when you're four.) So, we got there and Siobhan the hygienist WASN'T THERE. But the lovely Vera was. (So, let's throw our progress the last time out the window and start all friggin' over.) Unless we want to come back - because, as I was told, "we need to keep Maggie's best interest in mind." Maggie was totally UNCOOL with trusting her chompers to Vera, but stronger than her complete distaste for the kind Vera was her unconquerable and undeniable NEED to get her little body into the Toy Closet. And to get to the Toy Closet, you must actually commit to going through with the visit. Poor Vera was on the verge of giving up when I decided that I would try leaving the room. As soon as Mags had ascertained that I really could no longer see her - "I don't want anyone to look at me..." , she hopped up on the chair, started chatting, laughing, telling stories and opening her mouth while Vera not only brushed her teeth, but also polished her teeth, did a fluoride treatment on her teeth, flossed her teeth, and yes, took not one but something on the order of FIVE x-rays. All the while, I was seated on a chair fit for a three year old behind the wall dividing the "treehouse room" from the "underwater room" trying not to move for fear of throwing off the delicate balance in the universe that was allowing all this action to take place. Of course, once the dentist came in, Vera and I had to leave because when Maggie opens up to talk, she doesn't want anyone to watch. As soon as Vera and I left, Mags started talking to the dentist. I heard things like, "Look at all the stuff I got!" as she showed the dentist her take from the Toy Closet. Then I heard, "The other dentist said I could go back to the Toy Closet and get more stuff!" So, we left with THREE light-up tiaras, various plastic baubles, and enough brushes, floss, and toothpaste to clean the teeth of a village of children for the next six months.

No cavities, all is well... We'll see how she does in six more months. But rock on Dr. Shebani and her people. Once we get done, it is nearly impossible to get her out the door. They are all about, "Stay as long as you want!" It is like a freakin' toy store paradise in there - while Mags was playing following her visit, the "Toy Man" was there unpacking giant boxes from Pottery Barn Kids and letting Mags have first dibs at the new toy refrigerator, shopping cart, toy food (which was actually very nice, although I'm sure frighteningly expensive)... Why would a kid want to leave? Which, I suppose is the point.

Molokai - Day Nine (Saturday)

Note from Col: Ellie has become a coffee fiend like her mother. This morning, she sat there by the coffee pot asking for "fockie." "FOCKIE!!! More FOCKIE!!!" I gave her a few drops in her milk which delighted her and caused her to chug the milk with loud gulping noises usually reserved for frat boys downing beer through a funnel. (This video is actually from Jay's birthday, and he has just opened presents, which included the head warmer thing he's got on. It's for days when he wants to ride his bike in bad weather back at home. He did not wear knit headgear on a regular basis in Hawaii.)



Clouds have been threatening all day. When we got to the beach at the end of the Halawa Road, and Jay crossed the stream of water coming down from the waterfall and headed to the beach on the left. Shortly after they got the gecko kite aloft, a local came down in his old pick-up truck and suggested to me that I call them back. (I, of course, was just standing by the car watching Ellie sleep in her carseat and trying to look engaged and like I was enjoying it. After all, it's not like it's actually a "parking lot" there - It's a "gateway" to the beaches.) Now, when a giant, long-haired, deeply tanned Hawaiian guy approaches and suggests that you to get your family to safety for fear of a flash flood coming down from the daunting cloud-socked waterfall-fed crack in the earth, you call your family back right quick and thanks for the warning. (This article from last Sunday's Philadelphia Inquirer features Lawrence Aki, who may very well be the same guy. Or at least his brother.)








Safe from the dangers of the left beach, Mags and Jay swam for a long time in the high waves of the right black sand beach. Ellie and I walked the beach and played with Pepe, the Molokai dog - who was part pit bull, I think and part Mohican long-haired mongrel. And all casual and very cool.





After a picnic in the sun - as we watched the tide come in and the clouds alternately push to the front of and then ebb back into the triangle created by the sea cliffs - we took the road back to civilization (using the word loosely). Mags crashed in the back of the car, and we decided it was a great opportunity to get her a nap - in the car - it being only the second time she has fallen asleep in the afternoon since our arrival.



We had to go into Kaunakakai to get some Molokai coffee, sea salt and macadamia nuts (not Molokai grown because then we would have had to buy them from Purdy, the crazy nut guy) for Ric. So, the macadamia nuts are probably treated with pesticides, herbicides, fertilizers, growth hormones, conditioner, toner, latex paint, rubbing alcohol and mascara. And, the trees are probably pruned, God forbid. But the nuts are good and from Hawaii. We did spring for some 100% Molokai coffee from Coffees of Hawaii. Why, you may wonder, did we have to go to the Friendly Market today? Because, even though we have an entire day to kill tomorrow before our flight home, the grocery store is not open on Sunday. In fact, nothing is open on Sunday here - you are lucky to find stores open during business hours Monday through Friday, let alone on the Lord's Day of Rest. Of course, Maggie woke up midway to town because Ellie was SCREAMING as part of her cute way of telling us that she is tired. Unfortunately, neither child has slept since. I really hope nap time resumes once we get home. Jay mentioned today that he can't wait to get home in part, just so we can send the kids to KinderCare for a few days.

Yeah. So anyway, we saw some cool snails in the front of the house this morning, AND we saw some nenes on the Halawa Road - right in the area where it says "nene crossing" - and they were banded - and when they made noise, they said "nenenenenene!!!" - so, although we are not bird experts, we're pretty sure about this one. They looked pretty blase about the whole "jump out of the car and take our picture" thing. I wonder if they can fly and are just so well taken care of that they don't want to or if part of the problem with their endangered status is that they're unable or too stupid to fly away when in the face of potential danger. Funny, but right now, Ellie is sitting on the floor talking to herself - she's going back and forth between "Nene!!" and "Cock-a-doodle-doo!!" (There are also a fair number of chickens walking the Kamehameha V Highway in Molokai.)

Jay's Note: What's even more interesting is that when Col is in the presence of nenes, she also goes "nenenenenenenene!"



Col's Note: I'll miss watching the geckos on the windows at night and hearing them chirping from the rafters. I'll miss living in a little house that I can almost keep cleaned up - where there's a place for everything and at the end of the day, everything in its place. And, I'll miss the daily hunt for beach glass during low tide. As I was searching today, a number of different thoughts came to me about beach glass collecting that I think will definitely need to be put into words soon - before I lose the closeness I have right now to the subject. Too tired right now, and I need to get some sleep tonight before the Hell that will be tomorrow night's red eye home. And I'll miss my friends the nenes. NENENENENES!!!

Molokai - Day Eight (Friday)

Note from Col: Morning trip to 20 Mile Beach (so named because it's at the 20 mile marker) down the road (our house is about halfway past marker 18). Ellie actually waded in the waves, and Jay got to do some good snorkeling.




I went into Kanaka... "Town" to get some supplies and look for some sort of souvenirs - I had in my head that I wanted to get some fabric to bring home to Jerri in the hopes that she can replicate the bedspreads they have here for all of us. So, I went to Imamura's store - after waiting around for the woman to get back from lunch and reopen and got fabric enough to do a queen, full and toddler bedspread (assuming Mags will move to a big girl bed at Christmastime). I'll take lots of pictures of the bedspread here to show Jerri. Hopefully, she'll be game. Mags actually saw the fabrics, and miracle of miracles, she expressed her love for the fabric I got for her and not one of the others. She keeps asking for "her purple thing" but I've got it all on the top shelf in our closet.


Spent a good amount of time at the beach out back this afternoon since there was no napping going on. The skies were cloudy off and on and threatening rain, but you know what happens in that kind of weather? Yep, rainbows. Not bad. And, Mags found a pet coconut to carry around. Every day we hear the song, "Gonna wash that man right out of my hair..." at least 20 times (from each girl). Usually, they use water in their act, but today Ellie decided to use sand instead.





Since the kids took no nap at all, by dinner everyone was cranky and I was stressed out (yes) because they were sitting here at the breakfast bar whining for drinks and yogurt and what have you while I was trying to cook spaghetti in a race against time before they passed out. Jay and I decided that it was in our best interest to split the girls up and sleep in different rooms with them in an attempt to get a good night's sleep. Very romantic.
The lost/last puzzle piece was found, the puzzle was completed and it has been put away. I'm glad we did it, glad we finished it and glad it is out of my sight.

Molokai - Day Seven (Jay's 39th Birthday!)

Happy birthday, Jay! Tour of Coffees of Hawaii - including a mule-drawn wagon ride through the coffee plantation which the girls freakin' loved. Even Maggie was laughing and talking despite herself. Ellie, of course, wanted to sit up front and pet the mules.


Worth the cost and effort to go over to the center of the island. In fact, it was probably the best factory tour I've ever been on - very small and intimate - they even ended it with a session in their tasting room. By then, though, the girls (Ellie) had had enough, and despite the best efforts by our guide to entertain her, the bottom line is that a fussy toddler and cups of recently boiling water on a spinning table are simply not a good combination. (The post-a-nut touristy thing, not so worth it - at least for us. At one post office, they were all out of nuts, so they sent us to another that was closed for lunch from 12 to 12:30. As we put off naptime to sit and wait for the post office person to return from lunch, we got a little impatient and drove off at 12:38. I get the whole "Slow down, it's Molokai" philosophy, but I still really believe in answering the phone and being open when you're supposed to be. It's hard to hang loose with two tired kids in the car.)

A lovely late afternoon ride in the car to dinner and sunset at Hotel Molokai (where a reservation was recommended, although there were maybe oh, 20 free tables around us - and where we finally gave up trying to make a reservation over the phone because they NEVER answered...) - awesome sunset, good music, decent food, not bad service. Stray cats. Stray dog. Fidgety kids - but I have seen them behave MUCH worse, and besides, we'd snuck some more grown-up time while the kids watched Looney Tunes earlier in the day. So, really, all was fine.