A conversation between Big M. and his dad

Big M. has a list of chores to do for which he earns a meager allowance. Most of these chores are pretty quick and easy for him to do and he is, for the most part, pretty good-natured about doing them.

Except for the yard work.

Oh, how he hates to do yard work: the weeding, the watering, the picking up of sticks and outside toys, the sweeping of the porch, the picking up of dog poop. Worst of all, he hates the raking. He finds it rather infuriating that there are so many leaves in our yard, considering that we have only one small tree. Our neighbor has a gigantic, old oak tree in her front yard that overlooks our yard. In Mr. EM's and my opinion, picking up the acorns and raking the leaves from that tree is a small price to pay for the shade it provides in the summer and the sheer beauty of it all the time. Big M. disagrees.

Every weekend is a never-ending litany of complaints from him about yard work, but it's ten-fold in the fall. Grumbling, groaning, whining, complaining, arguing and even crying on occasion...to no avail. We make him do it anyway and, for crying out loud, he gets paid to do it. All the drama he brings to this chore drives Mr. EM up one wall and down another and there have been many front yard battles over it in the past. It's taken a lot of restraint on Mr. EM's part, but he has finally realized that ignoring the drama is the best way to handle it, as Big M. drops it much sooner if he's not getting attention for it.

So, this morning, there they are in the front yard raking and raking and raking and raking and so on and so forth. We are finally experiencing Indian summer here along the Mississippi and our windows are open. As I'm cleaning up in the living room, I witness the following conversation:

Big M.: "Gawd, I hate this. I wish there was some kind of big vacuum that would just suck up all the leaves in a few seconds. Then they'd already be in a bag and you could just put it on the curb and be done with it."

Mr. EM: "Well, you're smart. Why don't you invent something like that? Then you'd be rich because a lot of people would buy it."

Big M. chews on this idea for a little while, then says, "Yeah. That's a good idea. Then I'd hire you to do my yard work."

Pretty clever, no?

(Little M., by the way, loves to "help" his daddy with yard work, and he especially LOVES to "rake" the leaves. Sure, he wields his little toy rake like it's a Samurai sword and makes more work for his dad and brother, rather than less, but he's enthusiastic nonetheless. To his brother's endless complaining, he can often be heard shouting, "Shut up, Pantyhose!" Now, we do get on him about the "shut up"...but, "Pantyhose"? No idea where he got that from or why he considers it an insult, but he does. In his four-year-old opinion, it is the lowest of the low.)

I've been dissed by my kids

Last April the trailer for the Where the Wild Things Are movie started circling the internet. I can remember all 4 of us huddled together around the computer watching it, loving every precious second of it and wishing it were just a little bit longer. I even had tears in my eyes, because it looked like someone had finally done a beloved children's book justice on the big screen. We watched it a second time and talked about how we couldn't wait for October when it would finally be in theaters. Throughout the summer, every now and then, one or both of the boys would ask, "Can we watch the Where the Wild Things Are trailer?" Actually, Little M. would ask to see the "movie", he doesn't get the whole movie-trailer concept, he just knew it was beautiful and mesmerizing and he wanted to see it again.

I took them to see Up at the theater this summer (which was excellent, by the way) and the WTWTA trailer was shown before that movie, which re-ignited our excitement. To see it on the big screen rather than our little computer monitor was so cool. As we drove home that day, Big M. asked if we could see it right away on October 16th, the day it opened. I declined, saying the crowds would be too big, and that I wanted to read some reviews and make sure it wasn't too scary for Little M.* We'd wait just a little while and then we'd go as a family to see what was sure to be one of our favorite family movies ever.

Fast forward to this October and life in the Land of Earth Muffin is a study in chaos. Football games every weekend, practices 3 nights a week, plus Big M. took up an instrument in the school orchestra, which he has to practice every day. Little M. took ice skating lessons for 3 Saturdays before deciding he hated them, but dropping that did little to free up our schedule. We had a few different fall/Halloween activities keeping us on the go and I was involved in a few things at the community theater, plus the general day-to-day family stuff going on. Looking at our calendar for October, there were three days out of that month that we didn't have something to do and they were all before the movie even came out. Seeing a movie together was just not in the cards for us.

Until today...

Big M. had a football game today at noon that ended (they won in overtime...HOLLA!) around 2:00. The movie was playing at a theater about 20 minutes away at 4:40. SCORE! We got home, all of us in good spirits from the outcome of the game and I said, "Do I have some boys who'd like to go see Where the Wild Things Are this afternoon?" Little M. screeched, "Yes!" Big M. and Mr. EM both kind of stared blankely at me. Mr. EM had his heart set on watching the Packers/Vikings game...ok, fine. I don't mind taking them by myself. Big M., however, just wanted to invite his friend over to play for the afternoon. He didn't feel like seeing a movie and would rather just wait for it to come out on DVD. Once Big M. vetoed the idea, Little M. jumped on that bandwagon and suddenly, the movie we all were waiting on pins and needles to see didn't rate as a fun thing to do on a Sunday afternoon.

Sigh.

This may seem like an overreaction to you, but I was devastated. I calmly said, "This really is about the only time we're going to have to see it. I don't know how much longer it'll be in theaters." That was not a big deal to them. "Ok, but keep in mind that this movie is not going to look or sound as good on DVD as it will in the theater." They didn't care, well, Big M. didn't care so Little M. decided he didn't care either. I shrugged my shoulders, kicked off my shoes and headed upstairs to change into comfy sweats for an afternoon at home. I didn't cry, but I almost did. That may seem silly to you, but damn. I'd just been blown off by my kids. Mr. EM not wanting to go didn't bother me at all. He's lukewarm at best about kids' movies, though he did think this one looked pretty cool. However, NFL football is his favorite thing in the world and something about Bret Favre playing in Green Bay and blah blah blah. Besides, as much as I love my husband, this was a movie I wanted to experience with my children. I wanted to sit between them with a big tub of popcorn on my lap that I would eventually have to pass to Big M. because Little M. would get tired of his seat and want to snuggle with me. I wanted us to marvel at the beauty of the Wild Things alive on the big screen. I wanted to talk about the fleshed-out storyline on the way home. I wanted to do something fun with my boys this afternoon.

They just didn't want to do anything with me.

More than likely, I could have talked Little M. into tagging along with me. More than likely, I could have guilted Big M. into going. As Mr. EM pointed out, I could have gone by myself and it would have been quieter and cheaper. But none of those options really appealed to me. This wasn't something I wanted to MAKE them do, I wanted them to want to go as much as I wanted to go. And, Mr. EM is right, going by myself would have been both cheaper and quieter and I have no qualms about going to movies by myself, I've done it before and I'll do it again...just not this movie. This was a movie I wanted to share with my boys, just as we've shared the book countless time throughout both of their lives.

Really, this is probably not the last chance we have to see WTWTA at the theater. It's doing very well, so next weekend could still be an option. Looking at the calendar for November, I see that we are free on both Wednesday and Friday of this week, so there are two options as well. If they blow me off again, I probably will go see it by myself because I know that it will be better on the big screen than on DVD, whether my kids believe me or not. It's just that their rejection today stings. I got my first dose of my very-near future, a future where more often than not the M.'s are going to find better things to do than spend time with me.

I'm not sure how comfortable I am with that.

"Please don't go...we'll eat you up, we love you so."




*And, yes, I did read dozens of reviews and, yes, most of them said that it was for children ages 8 and up, and, yes, Little M. is only 4. However, he watches Harry Potter movies without being scared and from what I've read this movie sounds to be on par with those, as far as the fright factor goes. We are somewhat liberal on what we allow our kids to see, as long as we're watching it with them. Little M. actually has a pretty firm foot in reality and while he might be a little scared of the Wild Things, he knows they're not real. I really doubt they'll haunt him for nights to come.

Jesus H. Tapdancing Christ, I have seen the light!

Happy Halloween from the Land of Earth Muffin! If we happen to stop by your house, please put some plain white toast, 4 fried chickens and a Coke in Jake and Elwood's bags, ok?

Autumn in the Land of Earth Muffin: a photographic essay

Big M.'s first (and only, so far) winning football game


My brother came to visit for the Octoberfest and took in his nephew's football game


A gigantic sweet potato from our community garden


Trip to the pumpkin farm with Little M.'s preschool class


Eating tofu hot dogs, cooked on the bonfire at the "Enchanted Forest"...a party at a local nature preserve.

Lots going on around here lately, been too busy to blog. Football has been a great experience for Big M., but it will be nice when the season is over so things can slow down a little bit. Work is crazy, but still going well...fingers crossed! The weather has been awfully temperamental lately, freakishly cold and way too rainy more days than not. I hear we have sunshine in our weekend forecast, but I'll believe it when I see it. I can't believe we're nearing the end of October already! Next time I post pictures, I have a feeling they will be of the M.'s in their awesome Halloween costumes. No hints, you'll just have to wait and see!

I hope fall is treating you nicely. Drink some hot cider, eat a caramel apple, carve a pumpkin and take in the crisp air...in Earth Muffin's opinion, this is the most wonderful time of the year.

Things my boys said at my grandma's visitation and funeral

Big M.: "Huh...for some reason I thought she'd be behind glass or something." (as we stood in front of the casket, very near all of my dad's side of the family)

"So, what are you going to want Little M. and me to dress you in when you die? Because I don't really know what's in your closet, Mom. Do you think you could write it down for us?" (after asking why Great-Grandma was so dressed up even though she was dead)

Little M.: "(big sigh) How come there's no fun stuff here?" (after being told that we would be staying at the funeral home for a little while longer)

"What's the bwood of Chwist?" (VERY loudly in a Catholic church during the funeral...I had forgotten just how great the acoustics are in that place.)

Mr. EM: "You look really hot in that dress." (After witnessing plenty of ugly-crying from me all week long, dressing himself and the kids in acceptable clothing and driving in the rain to the funeral home, standing in line for a good 30 minutes to get to the receiving line of my relatives, shaking all their hands and answering the 30 million questions the boys had about death and church so that I wouldn't have to. Is he awesome or what?)

And, by the way, I did look pretty good in that dress...

They love each other

On the heels of grief comes something happy.

Today is our 11th wedding anniversary!

Last year at this time we were kicking up our heels in Kansas City. Nothing so exciting this year, but we do have fun plans. We are dumping the M.'s off at MIL's and lounging in a jacuzzi suite in the Holiday Inn Express in her town. She has a gift certificate for a restaurant that she's letting us have, so a good dinner will be eaten as well. We can't wait to get out of town!

I feel very blessed to have such a good marriage. Over our time together we have watched some of our friends wander from one doomed relationship to the next. We've watched some of our friends move in with or marry people we could tell from the start were wrong for them. We've watched seemingly happy marriages fall apart over the strain of children, money and infidelity. And every time, we've looked at each other and said in some way or another, "Thank you for being with me." We have our ups and downs, as any relationship does, but our marriage is solid, based on a mutual love and respect for each other.

In 11 years, we've gone from this...


(Look at that smug, satisfied smile on his face!)

...to this...



It's a good thing we've got going on here.

Good-bye Grandma

"The word 'happiness' would lose its meaning if it were not balanced by sadness"...Carl Jung

My grandma passed away early yesterday morning.

It was not an unexpected death. To be completely honest, I'm surprised she held out this long. 2009 had not been kind to her...she went through a bout of pneumonia in the spring and then broke her hip in the early summer. She got through the pneumonia relatively unscathed, prompting one of my younger cousins to remark, "Man, Grandma's bad-ass!" The hip, however, and all the therapy and recovery-time that went with it, seemed to be the beginning of the end. My cousin was right though. Grandma was bad-ass. She went down fighting.

I'm quite sad about it. She was my last living grandparent and, though I adored them all, she was most definitely my favorite. She "got" me, I "got" her. In many ways she was the stereotypical Roman Catholic grandmother.

Her: "Are you hungry?"
Me: "No, thanks."
Her: "Why aren't you hungry?"
Me: "I just ate something at home."
Her: "Just a little something? I'll make some polenta."
Me: "No, Grandma. Thanks, though."
Her: "What...are you on a diet?", as she got out the ingredients to make polenta.

In many ways, however, she was not. She had no qualms about going on senior citizen bus tours with her friends and leaving my grandpa to fend for himself for several days. She didn't care how long Mr. EM's hair was when she first met him. He was "good" to me and respectful to her, so how bad could he be? So what if he'd been married once before...what, a person can't make a mistake? She loved when my aunt and uncle had their annual 4th of July barbecue so she could don her swimming suit and spend the day in their pool. At the age of 81, she saw the Pacific Ocean for the first time and waded waist-deep in it.

Most of all, she LOVED LOVED LOVED babies. She had six children of her own, one a stillborn, but five of which she kept in the house as long she could hold onto them. Those five children gave her nine grandchildren and two step-grandchildren. Not that there was anything "step" about them in her eyes. In her home, children were family, regardless of DNA. Her grandchildren (steps included) gave her nine great-grandchildren and when she spent time with them, you could actually see her getting younger. Even the last time I took the boys to see her in the nursing home, she was joking around with Big M. and playing silly rhyming games with Little M. She gave Big M. some advice he could use on the football field and helped Little M. recite his ABC's.

That was the last time I saw her, it was right before school started, not quite two months ago. Once I'm working, it's hard for me to find time to get to my hometown very often. When my dad called with the news yesterday, I felt guilty for a few moments that I hadn't made time to see her one last time. I'm over that now. My brother saw her towards the end and said it was the saddest thing he'd ever done. She wasn't herself, she wasn't really anybody any more. She'd become a shell of who she'd been and she just stared at him blankly while he held her hand. I'm glad that my last visit with her was one of her last lucid days. She smiled, she joked, she knew who we were, she hugged and kissed us good-bye. I like that I have that memory of her as my last.

So, we have her visitation on Thursday. We have her funeral on Friday...a Catholic mass. I will be reading a 3 page eulogy that my favorite aunt has written, trying not to lose my shit in front of what I'm sure will be a packed congregation. And then, we'll all do the only thing she would have really wanted us to do in the first place, eat. A lot. Until we're all so stuffed we can hardly move. And then we might eat a little more. And that would make her very, very happy.


Little M. and Great-Grandma, June '05


Big M. and Great-Grandma at his 7th birthday party, March '07

She was a great lady, the best. She will be missed.