DNA

A few days ago we made a trip to Kittery to buy anew clothes for Oliver and Henni; the two have sprouted due to their obscene eating (and, most likely, age).  The kids were so excited to shop (definitely do not take after their parents) that they didn't eat much lunch.  And then Henni decided to poop as soon as we walked in the store.  Needless to say we were a very grumpy and smelly bunch. I concentrated on making it in and out of the store in as little as time as possible.  Since I have no input into what the kids wear, I honestly didn't look at what was chosen until we returned home - alive, fed (ah, McDonald's), and poop-free.  I therefore had to laugh when Oliver was modeling his new clothes...Davis?  Perhaps the uniform is in the DNA?

Speaking of DNA, I am in trouble (again, confirmed).  Not just because my boys like to wear white linen shirts and khaki shorts, but because Oliver might know a crazy lot.  Oliver tore into the new National Geographic tonight and was looking through the pages.  The focus of the magazine is the efforts of scientists to bring back extinct species - should they do it, should they not, implications, etc., etc..  Oliver is flipping through, identifying several extinct species, and then notes the image of a double helix.  He launches into a discussion of DNA.  Davis and I are floored as we had no idea he knew about DNA.  We ask him to expand (turns out he learned about DNA on Wild Kratts).  He tells us that we can think of DNA as the lines of a swing wrapped twisted together, and says that nearly every cell in our bodies contains DNA.  He then goes on to express his opinion on bringing back extinct species -- "There is probably a reason why they are extinct.  Natural selection is something to consider."

I have said it before, and I will say it again - I am way out of my league with this kid.

Egg eating

The African egg eating snake has nothing on Oliver and Henni.  The snake, one of Oliver's favorites, lives on eggs.  The snake will devour an egg - whole - and then go for as long as several months without eating again.  Oliver and Henni on the other hand, will devour an obscene amount of eggs and then eat again moments later.  This brings me to our Easter egg decorating projects.

Day one of Easter egg decorating

I boiled eggs, turned on the Soca music, laid out the dye, brought out a bowl for the decorated eggs... Henni dumped her eggs in the orange dye and Oliver dumped his in the blue - yes, all of their eggs in one bowl.  They then proceeded to pull the eggs out, one by one, and devour them.  Five minutes later the two of them were off racing trucks across the house, and I was left to clean up the dye, and to put the three (!!!) eggs they had not eaten into the refrigerator.

Day two of Easter egg decorating

Upset by the lack of colored eggs in the fridge, the wee ones convinced me we should decorate more eggs.  The same scenario took place.  However, instead of consuming nine eggs - they ate 10.  Yes, ten eggs.

The eggs were consumed at 4:30, dinner was consumed at 5:30 - they ate as though they had never seen food.  Henni's meal - several helpings of kale and close to a pound of fish.  Oliver's dinner was shrimp and cucumbers...and more chocolate chip cookies than allowed.  Where they put the food - I have no idea.

Yipee!

Fun has been had.

Last Friday night involved a "late night" (meaning 7:00 PM) trip to Home Depot followed by some light law breaking as we ignored the "private property" signs and did some dumpster diving behind several shopping complexes.  Our evening then progressed to begging at Shaw's.  Victorious we headed home with my car jam-packed with cardboard boxes, spray-paint, and duct tape.  What you might ask were we up to?  Preparing for the First Annual Cardboard Box Derby at the Snowbowl.

Davis, the engineer and builder, constructed a pretty incredible rocket sled.  Prior to the start of the race I told Oliver we were in it to have fun.  He replied.."And win more ribbons!"  In an effort to do so, he wore one of my brother's GS suits over his snow pants and jacket...the whole weekend; it was a spectacular look.

Our rocket sled was destined for greatness, but we got a bit too excited about the race and put a few too many people on the rocket.  We crashed out of the start, but we managed to get ourselves across the finish.  And, to be completely honest - I am happy we crashed.  The course was much longer and steeper than I had thought it would be - and people were speeding, flipping, and doing any number of crazy things in their sleds.  Our sled crash was well timed.

Sunday morning we managed to get ourselves to the Snowbowl in time for first tracks.  The skiing was incredible, the view over the ocean were limitless....it was a perfect morning of skiing.

We then packed up the gang and headed south to pick up my latest score...a swing set.

Monday morning I got home from the gym at 7.  As I am about to walk into the house I see movement out of the corner of my eye - I look over, and there is Henni, quietly swinging on the swing - bundled up and wearing her backpack.  She waved and kept swinging.  Turns out the little badger had bolted upright when she woke up, jumped out of bed, changed her pull-up, put on footed jammies, went downstairs and put on her snow pants, jacket, and hat.  Then went and got her backpack and filled it with her babies and Hello Kitty shoes.  She then went and put on her boots, mittens and said backpack and headed out the the door and jumped on the swing.  Davis said the whole thing was pretty hysterical.

Everyone has been living on the swing set...including Charlie who is trying to eat it.  Awesome.

Our house and the moose and the muffin

There is usually a song streaming in my head.  Sometimes it is just plain annoying, other times it is a rockin' dance party, and other times it just plain speaks the truth.

Recently, Gangnam Style and Surfer Girl have been having a throw down in my head - and in the car.  Oliver has been demanding Gangnam Style and The Badger has been demanding Surfer Girl - both like the volume turned up all the way.  The other afternoon we rolled down our street, parked in the driveway and my phone buzzed: "Gangnam Style...really?"  A quick glance back and I realized the kids had put their windows down and we had announced our arrival home - to the entire North Shore.

But then the snow melted.  The snow melted and I could get a visual on the destruction Charlie has done over the winter (anyone need clear-cutting done?).  The snow melted and the mud appeared.  The snow melted and the amount of mud on the walls of the house (inside mind you) increased a million fold.  And the washer and dryer...constant.  And the muddy liquid being pouring out of boots and children every day... Need I expand?  Anyway, the song rolling in my head now is Our House by Crosby, Stills, Nash, and Young.  Mind you, the lyrics in my head are a bit different.  They go something like this:

Our House was a very, very fine house
With poop and mud in the yard
Life is now so hard
Now everything is dirty
'Cause of you
And our la,la,la, la,la, la, la, la, la, la, la..... 

I few rounds of this as I clean the walls and pick up the poop.  And then Rick Charrett's song about mud (Mud, mud, I love mud...) pops in as I see the joy in Oliver and Henni's dirty little faces as they race trucks through the mud.  And the joy in Charlie's face as he rips another branch off a tree.

And then, one of the dirty, clear cutting creatures decides to come inside and they announce they are  cold.  How about a bath.  A bath?!  If we are doing a bath, can we have our baking powder powdered submarines?  Sure.  If we have those, can we have bubbles?  Wait, if we have bubbles, can we have jets (the jacuzzi things on the tub)?  Jets!  Can we wear our masks and snorkels to see how they work in the bubbles?  Now we need to take a shower so we can rinse the bubbles off.  If we take a shower, can we fly our sea planes through the monsoon rains?...And so it continues.  That Laura Numeroff (author of If You Give a Moose a Muffin and other similar tales) is damn smart.

And yeah... this is happening....

And this...first experience with Jiffy Pop.

And so it begins

This past weekend I, unexpectedly, found myself on the side of the mountain.  That is, I found myself the mom of a ski racer.  I had thought I had a few years before I had to ensure my racer made the start, a few years before I anxiously watched my skier navigate the gates (ruts, ice, and all), and several years before I would sigh a huge sigh of relief when my racer sped through the finish - safe and happy.

True to form, Oliver turned me into the mom of a ski racer long before I thought possible (seriously, the kid was born early, and since then he has been jumping the gun on oh so many things).

When we arrived at the Snow Bowl on Saturday morning Oliver noted that there was going to be a race that day.  He asked if he could participate and I told him he could, so long as he was old enough.  Armed with that information he headed to the registration desk - and then returned with the registration form.  

Excited about Oliver's first race, but totally oblivious, we filled out the form.  I say oblivious because neither Davis nor I had taken time to learn about the race.  I spent hours racing at the Snow Bowl.  The high school races, the Ragged Mountain Ski Team races, the fun races...they were all held on a little hill called Foxy.  I can remember one occasion when one of my coaches finagled a training run from top to bottom, but I can't recall a top to bottom race.  Which brings me back to Saturday, and being oblivious.

We hand in the registration form and they hand Oliver his bib.  They then tell us the course: from the top of Mussel Ridge (black diamond), over the head wall, down Lower Mussel Ridge, across the flats, then down the length of Foxy to the finish.  I am exhausted and my legs are shaking just thinking about it.

Oliver was so excited there was no turning back.  So up we went.  Oliver got to the start ridiculously early and transformed himself.  Rather than be the shy boy I know, he schmoozed with everyone and anyone - and he developed an odd little swagger.  

The competition...given the course and the conditions, 80 percent of the racers were early 30s+.  There remainder were high school and middle school students and then a handful of younger kids (with the exception of Oliver, the youngest was 7).  In terms of weight - most competitors had between 50 and 100 pounds on our Senor Rocket.

Oliver did an incredible job.  He completed both of his runs (made every gate) - and talked a mile a minute the whole time.  At one point, from my vantage point on the side, I heard him jabbering about going "90 miles an hour!  I am going faster than a car!"  While he wasn't quite going that fast, I was impressed by his speed.  While the competition was finishing in about a minute and a half, Oliver completed his runs in about four and a half minutes.  I was blown away (I had estimated 10 minute runs).  The course was tough, steep, really icy, and had huge ruts -- many of the other racers fell and/or didn't finish.

When Oliver reached the bottom of his first run, the first thing he said was: "What is everyone else wearing?"  We replied that everyone was wearing GS suits.  Oliver declared that he needs one.

I was not only impressed with Oliver's racing, but with the camaraderie.  The commentators were just so lovely chatting about Oliver, and being so supportive as Oliver made his way down the hill.  And at the finish - there were so many people cheering.  And in the lodge, people were coming up to him, congratulating him on his runs.  

Oliver, of course, has no idea that he did something incredible.  He was, however, pretty pleased with winning his first ribbon.

I have a feeling I am going to find myself on the side of many hills going forward.