Withdrawls from the memory bank

You know how every year or so the treasury department will run a list of names in the newspaper of people who have money they forgot about?

First off, let's just clarify: this doesn't happen to me. Or my husband... or my siblings. In 41 years the best I could hope for is the occasional quarter in the couch cushion, if I'm really lucky the lost $5 bill recovered from the pocket of last year's winter coat. More likely though, I'm the person you're stuck behind at the drive-thru scouring my car for the last nickle I need to pay for my morning coffee.

What does happen to me is the occasional recovered memory - it's not de je vous, but some weird synapse that has refused to function for a week - day - sometimes years.

We all have these moments. Sometimes it's noticeable, because you've spent all day trying to recall a movie, song, actor - only to have the answer suddenly arrive at 2am as you are drifting off to sleep. These struggles and recalls don't really bother me. Usually these are things that I really didn't ever need to remember - but more importantly - things I didn't want to remember.

But cash? Have you ever seen these published lists? There are people who have "forgotten" something upwards of a few grand. If I misplace so much as a $20, you can bet I'm going through every pocket on every pair of pants I own.

My recalled memories are of this second sort: I can't believe I've forgotten them. These are the gems that, as a mom, people tell you "I hope you're writing these down." to which you respond "Of course I am." But being a slacker mom - I'm totally not.

So now - when one comes to me, I'm going to post it here - whatever I remember, how accurate it is - how old it was...

I'm gonna make the memory bank real again.

My first withdrawl:
8 or 9 months ago, shortly after Nick started his new school, he came home one day and - with full audience of mom and dad sitting in the family room his tiny 3 year-old voice announces:
"I want some damn raisins."
Now, to our credit, neither of us laughed out loud or shrieked at him. A couple of jaws hit the ground, but in my version of the story we were quick to recover and I very calmly said:
"I didn't hear you Nick, what did you say?"
He didn't miss a beat: "I want some damn raisins."

Thank you daddy - who dropped his chin to his chest and covered his snicker, leaving me to fend for myself.

"Nick, I don't think I know what kind of raisins those are. Can you tell me what that word means?"

"Yes. It means 'raisins' in Spanish."

"No, it doesn't. Don't say it again."

You know, I can't remember if he ever got his raisins.

What a long strange weekend it's been

Who knew that trying to live life to the fullest with a 4 year old could be so much fun? If you saw my FB status Friday morning, you know we had a heckuva day planned. But as always, the unplanned moments are so much better.

First order of business was breakfast. In spite of my attempts to lure him to an actual restaurant, Nick wanted Starbucks for breakfast. I guess yogurt and a scone are every bit as good as pancakes with whipped cream, right? What should have been a simple breakfast turned into an event when we walked in to see two of Park Ridge's Finest having their morning coffee. (No cop jokes please - I know these two guys and they are great police officers, and PR is lucky to have them... ) but back on topic now -

Nick wanted to say hello, and because they are such good people, they indulged him. They invited him to sit and eat breakfast with them. He ate, speaking only when asked questions (this is NOT like my Nick at all), and simply stared at those shiny badges. When we all left, and they waved enthusiastically after our car, he was beside himself. 4 or 5 blocks later, looking practically love-struck he reported: "Mom, that was so amazing I can't even stop smiling." Now that this story has been saved for all posterity, I will pull it out the first time he runs away from the police, and point out that he used to LOVE the police.

All very exciting for the first hour and a half of the day!

Next, it was off to the library to return Magic Tree House books 15, 16, and 17. Nick very deliberately lined them up in a row for the librarians on the return counter, then RAN to the stacks. He knows exactly where those books are, and which ones he wants to find. Because the CPL has a kid's summer reading club, I started asking the children's librarian questions. Skeptically he eyed Nick and referred me to the "Picture Book" section of the reading club. Until Nick started reading "Buffalo before Breakfast" right then and there. Only then did the librarian point out that on July 30 the parent/child book club will be discussing #21 "Civil War on Sunday." - All things Abraham Lincoln in honor of the 200th bday this year -

So I explained to Nick what a book club discussion was, and the librarians told him "You will probably be the littlest one there." Nick promptly told him "I'm the littlest one lots of times, that's ok." So we took FOUR - (wow, that was a big deal) books home with us, and got through chapters one and two before it was time for.... OUR FIRST PIANO LESSON.

We walked down the alley towards Mr. Shack's house, and I talked to Nick about listening, not talking so much, following instructions, being polite... Mr. Shack is close to, if not already 80. He taught me piano more than 30 years ago. Kind of a neighborhood icon. As we rounded the corner we spotted him riding up on his bike(yep). Nick left my side instantly and bolted to see him. They went in, and I sat on the attached porch - just in case Mr. Shack needed to call the lesson a bit early (one never can tell with a 4 year old). There was no need to worry. Nick impressed us both by playing the opening two measures of Beethoven's Fifth. (Silly mom, I told grandpa later that it was his ninth - - Nick called me out.)

The only moment I nearly laughed out loud is when Mr. Shack made the error of asking Nick if he could do the letters backwards. Of course - in music that only means g-f-e-d-c-b-a. But if you've ever met Nick, you know the ABC's backwards is one of his first, and still the finest parlor trick. He now sings the whole thing to the ABC tune - been doing it since he was two. Mr. Shack listened to the whole thing, then - without so much as a giggle said, "That's impressive, but in music you only need to start at g." I know he was astonished because he mentioned it to my parents on the way to church a couple of days later.

Because Nick is Nick, Mr. Shack gave him a rather unusual first song to learn: Ode to Joy by Beethoven. Turns out Beethoven used all white keys for that one, which in retrospect maybe we shouldn't have told Nick. We came home with a book that had the first measure written down for Nick to practice. As of this writing on Monday night, Nick has figured out the next three measures himself.

So - on Friday - after breakfast with the police (not The Police), a trip to the library and a piano lesson... it was only 11:30 am and we still had a lot to do. The Planetarium was next. Been there with Nick before. I know his favorites - - I thought this would be easy. Who knew Elmo would be there?

More to follow...

Third time's the charm?

There is an interesting phenominon that I recall from my days doing library research for school papers. I don't know if it is, in fact a rule, but I very distinclty remember being taught that if you could find something in "common print" (not scholarly journals) 3 times, then it is considered common knowledge and you need not cite a source. I mean, if I were in Jr. High writing a paper on the life of Shakespeare, would I have to footnote the source I used for his birthday? No. Anyone could find that information anywhere.

If, in today's internet age this is still the case, I am on the lookout for the third source in the following series:

Americans Largely Silent as Their Nation is Systematically Destroyed http://canadafreepress.com/index.php/article/9607

American capitalism gone with a whimper - May 2009, Pravda

The variety of sources is important I think: The conservative Canadian Free Press and the self-described leftist-leaning Pravda. Now, both are editorials - but interesting similarity of message half a world apart.

I recommend reading both - but in case you don't have the time, the universal theme is that Americans are being lulled into mindless complacency buy a never-ending series of government entitlements and handouts. Apparently, both sides of the globe can now see Americans not just as ignorant and rude, but also stupid and lazy. We will buy whatever the government is selling as long as they promise us that we will start getting stuff for free one day.

What do you think?

God Bless Mary Pope Osborne!

Nick was one of those odd kids who one day, with very little warning, just started to read. We thought he had just memorized his favorite books like most kids do, until he started reading bill boards, the back of his dad's shirts and road signs. But it isn't easy to keep a kid like that interested in reading. He was only 3, so his attention span couldn't take chapter books, but he was way beyond board books, and most picture books - adorable though they may be - are meant for grown-ups to read to kids. So we began with the "Easy Readers," which bored him. It got to the point where reading was a forced activity just to calm him down before bed.

I started searching - - after he turned 4 I thought I could get him interested in elemetary chapter books. He did like all the Roald Dahl books, and we read books that had movies also. We read Willy Wonka, then watched the movie (the Gene Wilder version - -Johnny Depp creeped me out - but I digress). We read James and the Giant Peach, then watched the movie. Peter Pan, Treasure Island, Robin Hood, Jungle Book... but I was running out of age appropriate materials (as you can tell by the Treasure Island judgement error).

Then The Magic Tree House began. I can't remember where we got the first two books - if you are the person who gave them to me, allow me to give you a cyber-kiss (smooooch) right now! We are on book #9 Dolphins at Daybreak with no end to the enthusiasm in sight.

Nick can talk your ear off about these books if you ask him too. Jack, Annie, Morgan leFay, Peanut the mouse... Ninjas, cro-magnons, mummies... what he has learned is amazing. AND - because the stories tie into one another, he can remember - and is constantly having reinforced - the ties between the books.

Last Saturday night we had people over... built a campfire, made s'mores and stayed up late. At 9pm (an hour past bedtime) I told him he had two choices: Stay up even later at the party, eating more candy and marshmallows, OR if we went to bed right then, we could read an extra chapter... he picked reading. That's right, Nick chose Magic Tree House over S'mores.... can't get a bigger 'thumbs up' than that from a 4 year old!!!!

Art is in the eye of the beholder.

People laugh when I tell them my 4 year old son L-O-V-E-S going to The Art Institute. Honestly, he likes it more than I do. Until February of this year, I hadn't been there since about 1995. Bunch of paintings that I could see in pictures, and stuff I didn't understand. Not now though.

Thanks to "The Little Einsteins" (and if you have a preschooler, you've seen it), Nick is fully enthralled with (in no particular order) Monet, Cassatt, Seurat, Munch, Warhol, O'Keeffe, Van Gogh, Manet, Kandinsky, Klimt... and - unlike his mommy, he can tell the pictures apart. His favorite, by far, is a piece titled "The Great Wave off Kanigowa." Unfortunately, it an ancient Japanese print on paper, so it is rarely displayed. Too fragile. We've been to the AI twice, and so far, no luck.

We missed the huge Edvard Munch exhibit that just closed, and The Modern Wing isn't open yet. So what's a mom to do? Well, we just let the art take us where it would. Nick saw a sarcophagus, ancient mosaic, Grecian urns, Frank Lloyd Wright furniture and of course, his old favorites - the impressionists. We wandered through the Asian art and he was impressed with the Japanese prints on paper. After turning his head this way and that to view One Chinese monochromatic print (by Wong) he declared "It looks like thunder."

One well-meaning AI employee was trying to entice him into the African Tribal Gallery by telling him about a wooden figure of a man with nails stinking out of him. I thought he'd like the tribal masks, but as we began down the hall, I could feel the drag of a reluctant hand-holder. Looking back, I saw that the hand that wasn't holding mine was covering his eyes. When I asked what was up, he said he didn't WANT to see the man with nails in him. So we didn't. She meant well. I'm sure most 4 year old boys would want to see that. Nick just isn't most 4 year old boys.

After being perfectly well behaved (I told him we could never come to the Art Institute again if he didn't act nicely) in the Garden Restaurant - white table cloths and all - we stopped by one more set of rooms on the way out. It was there that he saw the piece that he now obsesses over. It's called "Spectrum" by an artist named Kelly.

When we came home, he instantly wanted to "make art." And if you ask me, art is precisely what was created in our house last night!

Fine art and the 4 year old

I can't stop giggling. I am eavesdropping on the educational tester asking Nick about Monet, Renoir and Van Gogh. He was able to explain how Monet did the haystacks in different light, and that Degas did all the ballerinas, and that The Bedroom is his favorite Van Gogh. However (thankfully) he has no idea who Shakespeare is, what a Capella means, or about the word 'impressionism.' I am giggling because she seemed generally surprised that he didn't.

Last Sunday: Park Ridge Civic Orchestra. We were very near the front, and Nick was pretty excited about the Brahms concert. What I didn't know was that we'd be listening to "A German Requiem" - yup, it was all in German. Didn't seem to bother Nick at all.

Observations of a preschooler during the concert:
- from a certain angle, a harp very much resembles a tree.
- there are so many string instruments you can't see the woodwinds or brass
- apparently, it is NOT ok to watch the adorable 4 year old in his tie transfixed by the show - I was admonished to watch the conductor
- A 7 movement requiem "is even shorter" than Vivaldi's the Four Seasons (he believes it has to do with the lack of an intermission)

After the concert we went for ice cream at the Picwick Restaurant. Because, if you're from this area, you know: where else would you go? While we were there several of the musicians came in to eat. One was carrying a violin case, and he immediately had to tell her he liked the concert. After that he asked nearly everyone who walked in if they were a musician. Of course, we had the table right by the door, so that made it rather difficult to actually EAT the ice cream. He ended up drinking it instead.

But, we had one last surprise for the day. After paying the bill I took him up the stairs to the closing reception... most everyone was gone already, and they were starting to clean up, but there was one person left. You'd have thought it was Jimi Hendrix - - but no - -it was.... (wait for it)... the conductor!

For the first time in his short life, Nick was speechless. Absolutely flabberghasted! When he did find his voice however, the poor guy couldn't get away! Nick asked if they could please play Peer Gynt next time. He started to hum it, and I couldn't tell who was more impressed at that point.

So - for the past week - he's been conducting. He announces the piece, conducts the crescendos, then takes a bow when he's done. Guess we'll be starting music lessons this summer. This morning he conducted Peer Gynt, Morning Mood by Greig, A Brahms Concerto, and the Nutcracker Suite.

Quite a morning in my house!

He's four and a half. I think we're the only ones I know with a perfectly healthy child who still use the baby monitor. It's not that we're concerned about hearing something go wrong - - it's that he can be so blasted funny!

Nearly every night after being in bed a bit we hear the sing-songy "Can someone come up and snuggle with me?"

I know we should probably say no once in a while, but he's still so cute. When one of us goes up, he'll hand over 2 or 3 of his stuffed animals (NOT new bunny, mind you), and inform us which of the "guys" we have to snuggle that night. God forbid he wakes up in the morning and the guys are still there - then you're busted.

'New bunny' is a story unto himself. Not much time - daddy has extracted himself from the grip of the 4 year old - - without a story about Rocky and Merle the flying squirrels - - yet another story - - but we'll talk later about that.

Today was our first baseball game - - T Ball to be exact. I knew it would be funny, but never did I dream that tears would be rolling down my face.

It rained on us. Which made the fields just muddy enough that all the kids got a bit dirty - but no standing puddles, no one getting soaked. Nick informed the little girl next to him that they didn't need umbrellas, cuz they had hats.

Coach Dennis is pheee-nominal with these itty-bitty ones. I never knew how you would teach the basics - - but he did it. They kids worked on picking up grounders and throwing and hitting.... but, ooops - - forgot to teach them to run the bases. A kid standing on 1st base would run out into right field cuz he was being chased by the kid who just hit the ball. One just kept running back and forth between 2nd and 3rd base. Next practice: base running! I think we may have to devote one whole practice to running the bases while keeping the batting helmet from falling down over your eyes.

In the car, Nick told me he "Really, really, really, really, really (etc. etc.) likes baseball. His favorite part? Point, step, throw... (thank goodness - he needs the practice).

A Small World? No, NOT the annoying song, the annoying "culturally influential."

A new 'networking' group, A Small World, from their own website:
"... private international community of culturally influential people who are connected by three degrees. " From their 'Membership Information' link : "Membership to ASMALLWORLD is by invitation only, which is part of what makes this network unique, and the connections authentic. Trusted and loyal ASW members who meet certain criteria have the privilege of inviting a limited number of their friends to the network (emphasis mine)."

Is it just me, or is this screaming sorority rush all over again? At what point in one's adult life does one self-determine to be "culturally influential?"

Although it does make me giggle picturing a single cyber-geek starting this group just for the buzz, then laughing his ass off in his mom's basement as all the self-important ones clamor to get in!

How did I get here?

So here I am... fabulous working mom. MBA, corner office - fancy title - - would trade it all to be one of the ones I see walking by my office pulling their kids in the wagon.

Even now, he's older. Not quite 5. I have a year before he's off to school full time, and I see that as the most important year. Imagine what I could do with him in a year. The walks we could take, the concerts and museums (you have to know this kid).

He has been pestering me to go see the Edvard Munch exhibit at the Art Institute of Chicago. Of course - Munch - when the current position has me surrounded by Norwegians - - I try to avoid all things Nordic on my days off... but no - not my kid. Munch - and Griegg. All about the wedding day at Troll House. What's up with the Trolls?

Anyway - I started out just like anyone else - HS, then College - got a job - then married... a few years later a baby. I had no idea I was going to be one of "those" women who wanted only to be a mom. But there are surpirses in store for us in this life, aren't there?

So, I guess "How did I get here?" isn't the right question at all. Rather: Why on earth am I still here, and where to I go now?