little men in footie pjs

Elian's cousins Ian, Isaac and Eli visited for a few days. They're so sweet and play so nicely with Elian. I feel like I didn't see him the whole time they were here. The boys had a great time trick-or-treating, bowling, building marble runs and train tracks and big cousin Ian spent a lot of time texting his new girlfriend and carving a heart with their initials into his pumpkin. The little man was sad to see them go.

boo!

rumbily in his tumbily

happy halloween

still undecided?

Please read this.

a last word about the election

Today, Norman cast his ballot for the presidential election -- pooping on a lawn that displayed a McCain/Palin sign.

We hadn't done much talking about the election in front of Elian. But after correctly sounding out an Obama sign on someone's lawn, he would point them out to us every time he saw one. We had a conversation about what the signs meant -- how the people who had the Obama signs wanted Obama to become president and how the people who had the McCain signs wanted McCain to become president. He asked us who we wanted to be president. And since then, he may as well be knocking on doors campaigning for Mr. Obama.

When I picked him up from pre-school the other day, out of the blue he said, "We don't want John McCain to win." Then, the other day, he and Ed were looking over a sample voting ballot. He spotted the word "no" on a referendum and said, "That says, "NO, to John McCain."

On that note, how about one last clip before the election?

and speaking of creepy, demonic forces

I'll let this one speak for itself.

I can only imagine the kind of coverage this would get if Obama was the one being annointed by a witch hunter.

creepy, creepy, creepy

Ed's parents gave Elian this creepy little pumpkin for Halloween last year. Sure, looks innocent enough in a photo. But if you wack it on something, it gives off this maniacal crazy-pumpkin-killer laughter.

I had taken it out of the box of Halloween decorations and set it on the bottom step. Occasionally on his way upstairs to bed, Elian would give it a whack and make it cackle. Fast forward to the other night. I went out with a couple of friends. When I came home, Ed and Elian were both asleep. I crept upstairs and quietly climbed into bed. About ten minutes later, I hear at the bottom of the stairs. "Muahh haa ha ha ha ha ha...!" I wake up Ed in my terror. He reports that it's been going on for a while. I try to settle, but then it happens again. "Muahh ha ha ha ha..!" And again. I know I'm not going to be able to sleep with a psychotic pumpkin laughing maniacally through the night. So I go downstairs to "have it removed." I figure the only place that I can put it where I won't be able to hear it is in the basement. So I creep down the stairs and set it on a shelf. As I turn around and make my way up the stairs, I hear, "Muahh hahahahahaha!"

halloween crisis

After he got over the fact that he couldn't be a chicken butt for Halloween, the little man told me he wanted to be a dalmatian. I lost the bidding war on Ebay for a Disney costume, so a few weeks ago I picked one up at Party City instead. It was a size 2-4T. He wears a size 3T. I figured it would be fine. I mean, aren't Halloween costumes supposed to fit big?

There's a big Halloween party tonight at the Children's Museum. So yesterday we took the dalmatian costume out of the bag to try it on. The costume was so teeny-tiny, it looked more like 18 mos. I tried squeezing him into it. No luck. I knew they didn't take returns on costumes at Party City. But I thought if I was going to do an even exchange they might make an exception. They said they would IF I had my receipt. I didn't.

We got home. I was feeling like a failure as a mother when the little man said to me, "That's okay, Mama, I'll just dress up as a...as a... BOX!" We both laughed. Then he said, "No, wait. I'll go as a... as a... TABLE! no as (looking around the room) a... as a... CHAIR!" We both got going naming off all of the inanimate objects around the house that he could wear as a Halloween costume. Luckily I have a son that relishes the wearing of costumes as much as his father and he didn't seem too phased by his Halloween misfortune (unlike his mother).

This morning the two of us took a trip to Target, Old Navy, Kohls Department Store AND JC Penny and striked out at every single one. No Halloween costumes for my little man.

Soooo....guess who's wearing a box to the Halloween party tonight?

taylors falls

Yesterday we took a little drive to Taylors Falls to enjoy a little fall-y goodness. See for yourself.







Most honorable mother, Tiki Tiki Tembo has fallen into the well!

look what papa brought back from l.a.

what he said

turns out if you say something enough, the nuts, i mean people, will start to believe it

It's no secret that I prefer Barack Obama. But I've decided to keep my commentary positive and just shut up about the other team. I've resigned myself to the understanding that if someone hasn't changed their mind at this point, nothing I can do or say or do will convince them.

But the coverage in the last week has made me sick. There are people out there who are buying this "Barack-Obama-is-a-terrorist" message and articles like this one and this one don't even begin to paint the picture of how frightening it is (you need to see the video footage of the death chants to fully appreciate our nation's wack-o factor).


This truly frightens me:




And how 'bout THIS guy:


Watch CBS Videos Online


But leave it to John Stewart to make it all so very funny.




So as much as I would like to see Barack Obama win, I fear for his life if he does. And sadly, I won't be at all surprised if he doesn't.

a four-part message to papa in california

And, why yes, we do do a lot of filming at the dinner table -- what's it to ya?!?! (It's the only way he'll sit still long enough to record anything.)

part 1




part 2




part 3




part 4

good morning

For the past four mornings or so, we have been woken by the sound of one little boy singing this song.

miso hungry

Ever since the little man's discovery of Pythagora Switch, he's been wanting to try miso soup. Since many of the Japanese restaurants around town are on the pricy side and don't really cater to the three-year-old diner, we've been putting off the introduction of Japanese food. Until tonight.

Tonight we dined at Obento-Ya where our little Japanphile had his first taste of miso soup (loved it) and devoured the Okosama Bento WITH CHOPSTICKS!

I really hope he doesn't lose his adventurous palate as he gets older. We really couldn't have asked for a cooler kid.

Next stop: Ethiopian!!

apple of my eye

quote of the day

E: Mama, how did I get out of your tummy when I was born?

M: You came out of a special spot that only mamas have.*

E: Your BOOBIES?



* Yes, I realize this is not entirely accurate.

i don't care who you're voting for, this is funny

portrait of mama (and a snail)

corn syrup and food coloring and sprinkles, OH MY!

Mama's happy helper.



Sprinkles? What sprinkles?



Ahh, blue fall leaves -- just like in nature.


Happy fall!

balancing act

There's this weird thing I often do with my left hand when it's not in use. I sort of hold it in this tense awkward position. I do it when I'm brushing my teeth, when I'm eating and sometimes when I'm drying my hair. Ed calls it my "balancing," explaining that if I didn't do it, I might tip over. I'm not quite sure why I do this or when it started, but after seeing this, I've decided it must be genetic:

if ever there was a photo series that epitomized our boy, this would be it

hello, new bridge, nice to have you

This morning we were woken at the ass-crack of dawn by the sounds of helicopters hovering over traffic crossing the new 35W bridge that opened today. The bridge was supposed to open at 5 a.m. and I wondered out loud why the helicopters hadn't gotten there sooner to capture the first person to go over the bridge. That would've made for more exciting coverage in my book.

After about 10-15 minutes of helicopters, they all went away eager to present the footage to their station. It was silent. Suddenly we heard a sole helicopter hovering overhead. We imagined that this guy's alarm clock didn't go off and he was in a panic to get to the scene. Ed adds: Yeah, he's going, "Shit! Shit! Shit!" as he races up the stairs to his copter pad.

i (heart) obama

quote of the day

The babysitter came over Friday afternoon. Before I left, I told the little man it would be a good day to take a nap since we'd be going bowling that night and probably staying out late.

When I returned, Kim reported that he had taken a good nap. I later pointed out that sometimes he can take a nap if he wants and I asked him if there was anything special he did this time to get himself to sleep.  His answer? "I just snuggled up, closed my eyes and dreamed about Mama." 

see elian read. read elian read!

Recently the boy has become quite the little reader. I credit the show Super Why which is incredibly awesome and his giant brain (that he gets from his mother).

Now every night before bed and before nap, he chooses two books, a book that we read to him and Dick and Jane that he reads to us. Yes, Dick and Jane, or "Stinkin' Pain" as I like to call it. 

He went through this Dick and Jane phase a while back where he was choosing this book every night. Every. Single. Night. It was just so painful to read and he would pick it every time just to watch me squirm. But now that he's reading it (mostly) on his own, I'm happy to say, I don't mind it as much. 

See mama smile. Smile, mama, smile.

i've created a monster

When adults ask Elian his name, they often mistake it for Elliot. I told him when that happened that it's okay for him to correct them and tell them that it's actually Elian.

So, this morning while walking Norman, we passed our neighbor who lives across the street -- a nice older gentleman who recently suffered a heart-attack and had like a triple-bypass or something and now walks regularly. As we approach him, he smiles at Elian and says in a most endearing way, "Hi, Honey!" To which Elian responds, "My name is ELI-ANNNN... E-L-I-A-N..."

I guess he told him.

a monster story

Once upon a time there were three monsters, Moe, Larry and Curly...

So begins the monster story that either Ed or I tell Elian every night. It began a while back when Elian asked me to tell him a story about monsters. Not one to be able to throw a story together off the cuff, that's how it started. I mean, you try coming up with three names while a three year-old is hanging on your every word.

Usually the stories have something or EVERYTHING to do about what happened that day. If I'm lucky, I can weave some sort of moral in there based on some good or bad behavior. Somewhere down the road, Ed introduced Shemp without my knowledge. I don't really care for stories involving Shemp the monster. It really throws off the whole three-monster dynamic. But sometimes Elian requests stories about him and I'm forced to deliver.

I'm just waiting for the day when he discovers who Moe, Larry, Curly and Shemp really are. He's going to feel so betrayed.

hey, get your own!

Ed bought me two bars of my favorite chocolate for my birthday. And if you think that my beloved pasilla chile and cayenne pepper-infused dark chocolate would fall outside the share-zone with the likes of a three year-old, you'd be wrong. Tonight after dinner, I offered him frozen yogurt or a mini Hershey bar for dessert. His response? No, I want the spicy chocolate.

Is nothing sacred?

goodbye, marble run. hello, lightning mcqueen!

It is with great sadness that I report that I think the little man might be phasing out of his marble-run obsession. It has been days, maybe weeks since we've made a marble run. Which doesn't sound too odd unless you consider that we used to make like six or seven a day. On top of that, the word "marble" or "marble run" used to come out of his mouth about 14,789 times a day. It's like the marble-run switch was suddenly turned off and another one was turned on.

What switch was turned on? The cars switch. More specifically the "Cars" switch. As in that Pixar movie featuring Lightning McQueen. While Mama was in Wisconsin a few weekends ago, Papa and Elian had a boys' weekend with movie night. That's when they watched the movie Cars for the first time. Now we spend our days racing his Matchbox cars across the hardwood floor and smashing them into the entryway door. Awesome.

Also awesome? Look what he's getting when he fills up his sticker chart.

the amazing elian

Did I mention that we were also entertained by mind-blowing performances of prestidigitation at the cabin?

Watch closely and be amazed.

in other news...

I'm considering growing me some facial hair.

Also, who says the Hernan-dos don't know how to party?

rock art

In my haste to post pictures from our stay on the north shore, I neglected to post a photo of Papa's impressive rock art.

TA DA! It's a dude with a big nose! Can you see it?



Next year he will be re-creating the Last Supper using giant boulders.

enjoy the sentiment now -- one day he'll be a teenager

photos, photos, and more photos!

Okay, I wasn't planning on posting this many photos. But the Blogger Gods must be smiling on me because I have a super-fast connection. And it's just telling me "Post! Post! FOR THE LOVE OF GOD, POST!"

bob's 2008

It's always hard for me to write about events in which too many things happen (hello, early onset Alzheimer's?). As usual our annual trip to the north shore was a really great time. Spending that time in a tiny cabin with its tiny bathroom and lack of stuffed cupboards filled with crap, always makes me want to sell all of our stuff and move into a tiny trailer. There was a lot of rock throwing. Much quoting of Winnie-the-Pooh by the boy. And a lot of stuffing of the face with a new favorite addiction by Mama.

Day 1:
Loaded up on provisions at the Duluth Co-op before making our way to Two Harbors. Declined the expensive vegan marshmallows in favor of the $2 bag at SuperOne. It's not like we ever eat more than four. We end up throwing the rest away after they're as hard as hockey pucks.

Papa makes a delicious dinner of turkey burgers. Afterwards we play a few intense rounds of "Go Fish." Papa delivers an Oscar-worthy performance asking Mama for cards he knows darn well that he-who-cannot-seem-to-hold-five-cards-without-showing-his-opponents has.


Day 2:
We get an early start. What, us? Enjoy a small hike at Gooseberry Falls. We look for Elian's penny he found in the falls then later tossed off a bridge last year. No luck.

What would a trip up north be without a stop at Betty's Pies. The little man and I split a five-layer chocolate. The big Papa eats a ginormous piece of Apple Crunch piece himself. And it was a la mode, people!

Stop by a lame miniature golf course we pass all the time. We're doubtful it's open since it's past Labor Day. Papa goes in to inquire at the hotel while we wait in the car. Exits hotel hiding golf clubs behind his back. Elian spots them. Maniacal, golf-crazed laughter ensues.

Return to Bob's Cabins. Papa and Elian enjoy a game of one-on-one at the hoop. Bill, the owner of Bob's stops by to say hello. Mistake's Elian's name for Elliott (he gets this a lot). Elian decides that his nickname will be Elliott. Not sure he gets the whole nickname thing.

More rock throwing by Elian and Papa. And why wouldn't there be? According to the boy, "There's nothing better than rock throwing."

Hi-Ho Cherrio marathon between Elian and Mama while Papa whips up an awesome chicken salad. After-dinner family game of Sorry. Get the feeling that the little man isn't really sorry when he sends Mama back to start.

While downloading photos to his laptop, Papa discovers he can mooch Internet access off Doris' house. Sorry, Doris. I hear giggling from the next room -- Papa catching up on a few Jon Stewart clips. I scold him for surfing the internet while we are at Bob's.


Day 3:
Lazy breakfast in the cabin. Boy is crabby with a capitol "C" today. We had mentioned the possibility of going bowling on the trip. Today he wakes up with bowling on the brain. I want to go bowling...can we go bowling...we could do that...AFTER WE GO BOWLING??? blah, blah, bowling, bowling. BLAH! We go bowling. Mama forgets she's not wearing socks. Hell, no she's putting her bare foot in a stinky bowling shoe! Buy lovely pair of bowling-themed socks from vending machine. Boy is jealous.

Mediocre to bad lunch at Grandma's Saloon. Boy still crabby.

Go to beach and play at playground. Mama is COLD. Go to car to thaw and to enjoy some solitary crossword puzzle action while boys play on beach.

Trip to Electric Fetus cut short by Elian's wet toots. Hmm, could explain his mood? That doesn't stop us from getting ice cream at our favorite Portland Malt Shoppe. Little E is adamant that he will have no part in sharing a malt. He wants REAL ICE CREAM.

A little rest at the cabin. Elian quietly works on one of the puzzles he got for his birthday.

Light dinner followed by Kettle Korn.



Day 4:

Kick off the day with breakfast and a Candyland marathon. Nobody gets Queen Frostine on the first draw. NOBODY!

Visit Two Harbors lighthouse. Make our ways down the breakwater, throwing rocks along the way. Back to the shore for more rock throwing. The little man skips his FIRST ROCK (two skips). Papa creates breathtaking rock art. Photos to come.

Lunch at our favorite New Scenic Cafe. Can you say warmed figs with walnuts and blue cheese drizzled with pure maple syrup? Yum.

Plans to surprise boy with dinner at pizza place with skeetball we discovered last year but it's closed. Opt for the better pizza of our other "pre-boy" pizza place. Papa picks it up and brings it back to the cabin. The little boy freaks me out with his virtual word-by-word memorization of one of the Winnie-the-Pooh stories on Papa's computer.



Last day. Sniff:

Clean up the cabin -- everything but the bed guard rail that we managed to leave behind*. Breakfast at Judy's Cafe. The little man singlehandedly polishes off a large pancake then sleeps for most of the ride home.


STAY TUNED FOR PHOTOS. TOO MANY TO PICK FAVORITES...


*To be picked up by Kevin and Bridget on their trip to Bob's in a week.

that lemon

hitting the road

We're packing this morning, getting ready to spend a few nights on the shore of Lake Superior. The little man is having trouble deciding which books to bring, which puzzles and how he's going to fit everything into Mama's suitcase. He decided that not only did he need to bring Target, his blanket and his fish pillow but ALSO his ball pillow. After all, he said, and I quote, "I like to switch my head back and forth."

It might be time to buy the kid his own suitcase and institute the Uncle Mike and Aunt Shannon rule: You can bring whatever will fit in your suitcase.

oh, bother

The boy has become quite fond of Winnie the Pooh. For months, he's been listening to the stories every night on CD when he goes to bed. Then, I ordered him this. It arrived on Saturday and he's already watched it about six times.

I remember when I was a child, Sears used to be all about Winnie the Pooh. Pooh was everywhere in the store. I used to like going there just to see the displays. And most of the kids clothes had little Winnie-the-Poohs embroidered on the chest...or perhaps this is just another crazy memory that I make up in my head.

quote of the day

(We were on our way to the bakery to pick up some of Lempi's favorite cardamom coffee cake.)

MAMA: You can pick a donut out if you want, buddy.

ELIAN: Okay, Mama, I guess I'll pick one out...If you REALLY want me to...