On Blogs, Wienermobiles, Carousels and New Friends

The Internet is kinda weird. Never before have people who would otherwise not have any way of knowing each other wind up friends, correspondents, lovers, fans, supporters, co-workers or enemies. While I guess, with this blog, I could be categorized as one of the "Mommy Bloggers," I know I don't hold a candle to the mom's and dad's who are really OUT THERE with their lives. Some have turned their musings into an industry, while others have found unexpected communities of generosity, kindness and support.

About a year ago, I was bored at work one afternoon and reading a blog kept up by Nanette, a friend of the Messingers. She is one of the first people I know in real life who was regularly writing a blog that had followers who were not just people she really knew. She had amassed a whole new group of friends with similar interests based on her writings about such things like baking and pop culture. Figuring I liked the things she wrote about, I'd see who else she was reading and started clicking down her blogroll.

Somewhere down the list, I stopped. For a very, very long time. I had found one titled Matt, Liz and Madeline. Despite having no idea who these people were, I was suddenly sucked into the most heartbreaking tale. Long story short, I quickly figured out that Matt Logelin was sharing publicly his daily ins-and-outs in a world that brought him his daughter, Maddie, one day - only to take the love of his life, his wife Liz, the next. Through my tears that afternoon, I kept reading. And since then, I check back every few weeks to see what Matt and Maddie are up to.

Weird, right? I know. But I found myself reading his posts as I would from a friend who had sent a letter or an e-mail. I cared. I was concerned. I cheered his joys and teared for his sorrows. All the while, I watched as the most beautiful and photogenic little girl grew from squirmy baby to nearly walking 15-month-old. Matt also takes lots of great pictures, often with an edgy urban feel I admire (have to admit, been using dutch angles in my work more because of his inspriation!).

At one point, he and I corresponded briefly. I felt compelled to share his sharing and the reporter in me itched to do a story about him. But, because he is what we call "OTA" (Outta the Area) and way off my court beat anyway, I had to get special permission to do it for our sister paper in the Valley. Matt wanted to participate, but had just given an interview to a national magazine and promised he wouldn't do anymore until that article came out. Between then and the publication of that People article, the editor who gave me the green light got fired and the publicity storm around Matt swelled. He's since been on Oprah and God knows where else.

Part of that recognition came because, late last year, Matt announced on his blog the formation of the Liz Logelin Foundation. As more and more people found him and began to follow their lives, more and more people sent presents for him and Maddie. Wanting to share the wealth and honor his late wife's memory, the Foundation benefits single parents who don't have the resources they need. To further raise awareness for the organization, he holds little gatherings (he lives in the L.A. area but travels a lot) for people to come and meet him and Maddie and support the Foundation.

When I saw last week that they, and the Oscar Mayer Wienermobile, would be having a meet-up Sunday at Griffith Park AND that we had no plans on Sunday, I knew I wanted to go. I packed a picnic lunch and the boys to go and meet some complete strangers friends in the park.

The Oscar Mayer people sold raffle tickets for a ride in the Wienermobile, as well as a hotdog-shaped pedal car and a remote control hot dog car. Furthering our weekend of sourpuss ungratefulness, Holden's mood turned drastically when our tickets weren't picked. There's been a lot of complaining lately about things that are not worthy of complaint ... things that are fun, little boy-oriented and planned specifically with their interests in mind. We had had a nice time, and I remained as patient as I could running solo with them all day, but we needed some perspective.

I reminded Holden of all the fun things he got to do - play in the park, ride the carousel and eat ice cream. Then, thinking of Matt and Maddie, I launched into some speech about appreciating all you have and being grateful for other people's generosity, which I'm sure he didn't hear. But after meeting all the people that came out to support the Liz Logelin Foundation, I attacked with a new sense of vigor and purpose, knowing there is lots and lots of good people out there.


Here is Maddie, by far the most popular girl in the park that day. I looked forward to photographing her and glad she was a willing subject. When I first arrived, I held her for a while. But she wanted nothing to do with me and kept reaching out for my adorable companion, Holden. He, unfortunately, wasn't so cooperative and responded by taking a step back and hitting me on the head as I tried to chat.

Both kids were keen to ride the carousel. Despite the enthusiasm, Riley balked when it came time to, uh, pony up. Just before the spin started, he mounted and was fine.


Here is Maddie with dad Matt. She is on the verge of walking and it was fun to watch them interact. Matt was very gracious when I realized, kind of embarassingly, that my being there was like being a groupie. He disspelled that notion quickly and said he didn't see it that way.

As we said good-bye, I told Matt, "Thanks for sharing." Looking back, that kinda sounds lame-o and I don't think it even came close to conveying the gratitude I wanted to express. I wanted to thank him for sharing his words, photos, thoughts, emotions, adventures and life with me and the anoymous Internet. His story, and the people who have come out to support Maddie and Matt, and then their cause, can really renew one's faith in humanity. And I wanted to thank him for letting us be a part of that life, even for just one day.

Weekend Family Outing FAIL

Sometimes, we try to make the kids happy. You know, do things they like - like give them toys, food and take them on outings we believe they'll enjoy. We think that this will bring joy, laughter, love and appreciation into our lives. Sometimes, we're wrong.

When we saw that a helicopter show was coming to town, we thought: "Hey! Our kids love helicopters! That would be so awesome! Let's go!" So we loaded on sunscreen, donned hats and packed up plenty of snacks and water for the trek to the Valley. Not because we so much wanted to, of course, but because, well, we love those kids.

And those kids? When they got to where all the cool helicopters, parachuters and military-style vehicles were? They complained. They were hungry, and tired, and hot. They did not enjoy themselves, and we did not get to enjoy them enjoying themselves. Instead, we all got to get mad and impatient with each other, then I got to drive home an hour in traffic, in the heat, on an empty stomach while everyone else fell asleep. Yeah, good times.

Despite this, we took some photos that make it look like a cool outing. But I'll always remember it as an EPIC FAIL.

Conversations

Holden: "Oh no! I left my pad and pencil in my class!"

Mom: "You'll have to get it tomorrow."

Holden starts to tear up and his lower lip slides out.

Mom: "Put that lip back."

Holden (wiping a tear): "When I cry, I try to put it in, but it just pops back out."

***
Dad: "Riley, how old will you be on your birthday?"

Riley: "Five!"

Dad: "Are you sure? Let's count."

Riley: "One, two, five!"

***
Holden: "... And we used cotton balls and glued on eyes and it had a red nose. And then I colored the barf brown."

Mom: "Wait. You colored in clam barf?"

Holden: "Yeah, the clam had barf. That's what the teacher said. I don't even know what she's talking about."

Mom: "Maybe she said 'bark,' like the wood on a log?"

Holden: "Oh."

Happy Birthday America!!!

To the kids, jumper = birthday party. I tried explaining to Riley that the block party down the street was to celebrate the 4th of July. You know, Independence Day? He didn't get it. So I said, "We're celebrating America's Birthday." For the next few hours, he kept yelling: "HAPPY BIRTHDAY AMERICA!"

We headed up the street soon after the Ruxton Lane Block Party got underway. It had a good down-home, neighborhood feel to it with burgers, dogs and tacos grilling, a country music band and people walking around wearing red, white and blue. Because the Messingers were gonna join us later, we opted to save our meal tickets to eat with them. So we returned home for lunch, came back to jump, then back home for naps.

While we waited for the Messingers, we returned to jump and could tell pretty quickly that the Block Party blew it's load pretty early. Burgers and dogs were gone, as were all the drinks. The band was replaced by karaoke and the stench of beer greeted you from a half-block up. At least the kids got to have some cotton candy:

So, just as the Messingers arrived, the party called itself over (several hours early) and we were suddenly left on our own to figure out dinner! Lucky, our favorite chicken place nearby was open and so the guys got some take out, the kids ate corndogs and everyone had a nice time on the patio.

Part of our admission to the block party was to cover a bus ride to the beach to see the fireworks. Redondo Beach's show wasn't slated to begin until 9:30. We thought maybe the bigs could handle it ... but as the evening wore on, it became more and more apparent that boarding that bus would only be a recipe for disaster. We got all the kids in their jammies and the Messingers headed home way before even the first explosion. Luckily, we had our own little firecracker in Holden:

"You're son? He eats his friends."

Big changes have come for Riley in the last few months. As he teeters on the brink of his fourth year on this planet, he's doing all he can to make his mark. Unfortunately, many of those marks were made with his teeth. Along with other rites of passage, like pedaling his own bike, graduating from an enclosed crib and learning to use the potty, Riley has managed to get himself expelled from pre-school. That's right, you read it correctly: Kicked. Out. Of. Pre-school.
If you've seen Ferris Bueller's Day Off, then you know the exact inflection in my voice when I repeated back to the school's owner, "Nine times?" Truthfully, though, I wasn't that surprised. I knew they had a strict Three Strikes and You're Out policy, and I knew that we had surpassed our allotment of strikes. I just kept hoping that this one would be the last one.

Riley bites when he's frustrated that things aren't going his own way. At school, this would happen when he didn't get to sit in the chair he wanted or play with a toy someone else had at the moment. There was no negotiating or reasoning. There was just The Chomp. He averaged one-a-month while a student at Southwood. His teachers and the director were pulling for him, I know (it was even admitted to me that they were hiding his Bite Reports in Holden's file). But the jig was up and they gave us a two-week's notice ... exactly two weeks before escrow was scheduled to close. So in addition to moving, we had to find a new school. And you know how great 2-year-olds are at dealing with change, so we were really looking forward to that 24 hours where he moved to a new house and started a new school.

I'm sure you're wondering why we weren't able to stop the biting. Believe me, we're wondering that, too. We did everything they said to do - short of biting him ourselves, which we think is just hypocritical. And Riley knew biting was wrong. He had the whole script down: "I'm a big boy. Big boys don't bite. Only doggies bite. Biting hurts. Be nice to my friends." It was just that, in the moment, he lost control.

We were lucky that his old daycare was willing and able to take him back for the summer. In the fall, or sooner, he'll start pre-school at the elementary school where Holden will be going. Along with after-school kindercare, the school district runs pre-school, too. So he'll be back in a classroom and they'll both be going to the same place everyday - making our mornings and evenings a lot easier, too.

Oh ... and since his last offense at school nearly two months ago, he's only had one minor biting incident while fighting with Holden. He's never bit again at school.

A lot of people have shared similar stories of their kids getting the boot from pre-school, and that is comforting to know it's common. Many have said we'll look back on this and laugh. I've just hoped that I won't be sharing this story with other moms as we wait in line during visiting hours at the Inmate Reception Center.
And to his credit, Riley's simultaneous transitions were rather seamless. In addition to a new home and school, he's pretty much potty trained himself, learned to sleep in a bed without walls and pedal his tricycle. We were concerned about letting him be free at night, and the first week was a bit of a challenge keeping him in bed. Now, he almost only gets up to use the potty - which he does about three times before going to sleep and a couple times in the morning before 6 a.m.
Despite all the changes, he's remained so very Riley. He is a fun and funny boy with great facial expressions and a desire to make everyone laugh. He does and says whatever Holden does and says, and has learned how to use his imagination to play. They pretend to be firefighters or zoom their cars around looking for parking garages or play bedtime where they take turns putting each other to sleep complete with songs, a kiss and a final yell of "GO TO SLEEP NOW!" (Wonder who says that?)

He whispers, "Poo poo poop" as he sits on the potty and asks loudly of all of us: "Are you my friend?" Then he adds, "Mommy's my friend. Daddy's my friend. Holden's my friend." If we're mad at him when he asks, and we say no, his big lower lip comes out and he looks sad as he demands: "YOU ARE MY FRIEND!"
That's kinda the rub with this kid. He is sweet and friendly, but can really test your limits and patience with his antics. As his vocabulary and communication skills continue to blossom, though, we're sure his life will be less about hurting his friends and more about being one. We're confident that, one day, he'll be a really good one.

Pomp, Circumstance and Raspberries

Holden just graduated from pre-school, but you wouldn't know it. Lately, he's showing a level of rebelliousness I thought we would only see around his middle school graduation.

"Whatever," he's been telling us lately. Really? You're FIVE! You can't say that! But he can ... and he does. And he says it just like you'd expect to hear it from a 14-year-old mouth - full of disdain and defeat. "Holden, it's time to clean up and get ready for bed," we say. "Whatever," he replies while blatanly ignoring our direction to, you know, CLEAN UP THAT MESS.

Whatever.

It was still mostly a nice graduation ceremony from Southwood Pre-School, where our days are numbered. Dad, Grandma Bonnie, Grandpa Larry and Grandma Sheila made it out mid-week to cheer Holden on:

All around the school, there are these tiles. We didn't know that everyone gets to make them and were surprised to find the boys had their own. Riley's, though, feels more like a memorial plaque (more on that later, promise).

Before getting their diplomas, Holden's Red Room (in the back row) and the Blue Room said the Pledge of Allegiance and sang some cute songs:





Remember that part where I talked about Holden's new-found rebelliousness? Well, here it is again. All the kids practiced smiling nicely and waving at their parents while they walk to receive their diploma. And they all did. All, that is, except one. Shocking even his teachers, Holden did a little jig while blowing raspberries:
Later, we had a little talk about this act of defiance. He said he thought it was funny. I told him it wasn't. Luckily, some of that ol' eager-to-please Holden we know is still in there somewhere, cause he looked really sad about that and asked next: "Do you still love me?"



Holden with his teachers, Ms. Isabelle and Miss Myra:
Two of his bestest buddies at school, Tyler and Travis (they're fraternal twins, but I still couldn't tell you which is which):
Holden is looking forward to starting kindergarden at Washington Elementary School in the fall. He doesn't seem anxious or nervous, which is another sure sign that our usually timid kid is coming into his own.

Kevin and I both grew up in homes that encouraged independence. We both tell tales of doing laundry as soon as we were old enough to reach the dials and letting ourselves into our homes with keys tied around our necks in elementary school. We whole-heartedly encourage the same in the boys, but worried that Holden wouldn't find his own independence.

From his first days, he was in need of constant companionship and attention. He was the baby you couldn't put down lest he cry and the toddler who wouldn't play by himself even for just a few minutes. Even now, he's usually cajoling us or his brother to join him or, at the very least, he refuses to be alone in a room even if he's doing something that doesn't require others - like coloring or watching TV.

So here we are again, wandering around looking for that damn balance we so strive for. How do we ensure that the kid is independent enough to speak his own mind and spend some time alone ... yet obedient enough to follow our directions?

Sometimes, it feels like I'm kicking him out the door with my heel while pulling him back in by his collar