a day at the museum...

As part of my crusade to pull Sam and Tali from their respective screens and to insert a hiatus to their incessant digs at each other, I dragged them to the museum yesterday. They were pained at the thought of quiet halls of ancient artifacts, even though I told them over and over that where we were actually going was to the Experience Music Project, a museum designed by Frank Gehry that houses incredible rock and roll and science fiction exhibits.

"Ewwww, exhibits," Tali whined from the backseat.

"Ugh, rock and roll," said Sam. "Let's at least go to the science museum, if we have to go to one."

"You guys," I told them cheerfully. "We're going to see the Jim Henson exhibit about the Muppets. How is that boring?"

"Ugh, Muppets," said Sam. "Old, ancient muppet exhibits."

Basically, I think the kids suffered from brief amnesia because the EMP is this huge, shiny, colorful metallic building inspired by Jimi Hendrix's guitars. It's been around for years now, but my kids are only just now old enough to potentially be interested in the place.

To get to the Muppets, we had to go through the Science Fiction exhibits exploring how images of space has evolved through popular culture. We passed by glass enclosed exhibits of all my old Star Wars figures, Alf, characters from Lost in Space, and Planet of the Apes.

The kids were mesmorized.

"This is a museum?" Sam asked incredulously. "Cool."

They had the model of the Death Star Station used in the fourth episode and we talked about how they could've used such a small piece in a film, but still have it look real. Sam stood and squinted at it from all angles, checking it out as if it were a piece of fine art.

And then we donned guided tours loaded on iPods and started the Muppet exhibit. They had napkin drawings of Jim Henson's early sketches, films, and best of all, a theater where the kids were taught how to manage muppets behind a stage using a televised screen and then they performed the muppets to a song.

Sam's fave was the Jimi muppet.

"I can't believe they put that stuff in a museum," Tali said afterwards. "How could they just put his drawings in a frame and call it famous?" She asked, referring to his framed scribbles on lined paper.

"Wasn't it cool to see how Jim Henson worked on the Muppet designs?"

She thought for a sec. "I'm going to frame my drawings, too, so that it's easier to put them up in a museum."

It was a good parenting afternoon. Maybe when they start bickering again this afternoon, I'll have them draw more Muppets.

the girl who can sleep anywhere...

wordless wednesday

and i thought we were over the sleep issues...

Today while in the pediatrician's office waiting for Sam and Naomi to have their annual well-child visits, I browsed through a tired and dog-eared issue of Good Housekeeping from last year. Though I was hoping for some truly miraculous good housekeeping secret, I found an article by a mother who was talking about how she let her eight year old daughter sleep with her.

"She's only little once," she was quoted as saying and my first reaction was that this was very sweet. I looked up at my brood waiting not-so-patiently in the waiting room, fighting over the toys, and rolling around on the floor like small possessed animals. But it was a nice idea and I thought at that moment that the next time they tried to climb in bed with us in the middle of the night, I'd totally let them stay, instead of escorting them back to their beds, exhausted and muttering the mantra, "We all sleep in our own beds."

And then I read on to see that she only had one child and a king-sized bed.

And so I changed my mind.

Because even though I love cuddling with my kids more than most other activities, I'm rotten company in the middle of the night. And now that these kids are continuing to grow bigger and bigger and bigger, there just isn't enough room in our queen-sized bed for five people, and that's what usually happens when one kid ends up joining us in bed. And a Brangelina-sized bed isn't in our cards.

But hours later after reading that article, I'm wondering if I'll regret not letting them sleep with us once they're too old to want to. I mean, we have the occasional slumber party where we know nobody is going to get any sleep. And we cuddle in the morning, though that usually ends up in a wrestling match between Tali and Sam.

But I know that the time is coming quickly when they'll be embarrassed by our public affection toward them. And soon they'll be sleeping in longer than us (one can really hope, right?), and we'll have all the room in our bed that we want.

So maybe if one of them sneaks into bed tonight, I'll just pretend I don't notice. I think I may be the one with the biggest sleep issue.

off to camp and rock and roll...

Oh my gosh, if I don't finally post this post, I'll be writing an essay about what I did on my summer vacation.

It's just that this unemployed nothing to do summer has gotten itself very busy.

Sam is off to camp. Though, because he's pretty much the easiest kid in the family, life is just quieter, not less hectic. But even Tali says that she's totally bored without someone to pinch and fight with. Nice.

We spent the day last Thursday packing and gathering his stuff and while it was admirable that Sam wanted to pack his own bags, when I did my minor last minute check, I discovered he'd paid no attention to the numbers of items the camp suggested he bring. As in, instead of ten shirts, he packed five.

"You only have five shirts and it says ten," I say. "What are you going to do for the second half of camp?"

"You don't need to change your shirt everyday at camp," Sam tells me. "You're supposed to be dirty at camp."

"You don't know how dirty you're going to get. What if run you out of shirts?"

"Mom, last year I wore the same shirt practically everyday. I don't need so many of them. It just wastes water in washing them," he says, though I threw in five more shirts. And, oddly, when I look at the camp photos online, he seems to be wearing pretty much the same shirt everyday. What a sweet guy to be saving his mom the laundry and mother earth her water? Hmmm...

Also, last weekend I ran the Seattle Rock and Roll marathon and hit my goal time of under two hours at 1:57. I was pretty psyched and it was great to run with the group I'd been training with. There were 25,000 people running this race, but I think it was fairly well planned because it didn't feel like that many people.

This is us at 4am catching the shuttle to Tukwila, which for you out of towners is absolutely NOT Seattle.

Then, while the shuttles worked their way back to Seattle, we ran back. But it really was a nice route.

Here we are after the race. Note the team shirt not sponsored by Nike--just printed on their shirts. On the back we printed "Run like a Mutha..." which spurred a lot of conversation behind our backs while we ran.

"What's a Moota?" one woman asked. We didn't tell her that we'd used the spelling "Mutha" because Mitch didn't want to run with a shirt that said he ran like a mother.

Off to go send a care package like a good mother... Though at this point I'm sending it next day so that he at least gets it before he gets on the bus to come home.

getting ready to rock and roll...

This weekend I'm running the innaugural Seattle Rock n' Roll half marathon. It'll be my third half marathon over this past year and I'm truly excited about it, which is absolutely and totally shocking to me. I'm the girl who quit Little League at nine because even though I was the only girl to make it to the Mustang league, I, um, ran the bases backwards during my first practice and promptly quit the game for good when nobody could stop laughing. I pretty much gave up on any attempt at being athletic and totally succumbed to being the bookish nerdy girl. So the fact that I actually like running for long periods of time, and that I totally crave it when I can't run, is truly mindblowing to me.

So today I took Sam and Tali with me to pick up my bib and race packet. I thought they'd be bored, but they totally got into it. They made signs to hold up for me during the race (nevermind the fact that they won't actually be at the race since Sam will be at camp and Tali will probably be home happily playing Polly Pockets), and then went from booth to booth trying out samples and picking up swag and candy. My friend, Lani, and her two year old, Judah, came, too. And though Judah was on the brink of meltdown because he was missing naptime, Lani handed him a couple of sample Gu jelly blocks and he perked right up. Who knew there was another good use for those protein shots? Hmmm, I see an amazing marketing opportunity out there...

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If you're in the Emerald City (or even if you're not), check out these fun things to do with the kids this week in Seattle on my Examiner's column...

"this is what summer is about..." --talia

wordless wednesday...

first sam is nine...

My boy is nine.

It seems so old. In the past, the kids' birthdays have always seemed like sort of my own celebration, too--my anniversary on becoming a parent. But somehow, Sam now seems to have come into his own birthday. He owns it now that he seems so old. And after spending the day with him talking, lunching and shopping for skateboards, I thought to myself that nine must be the best age ever, which is a thought I've had almost every year about Samuel.

I used to think that everyone thought that about their kid's age--every year is the best one--but having three, I've come to find that even though I love each kid dearly, it's just not all that true that every year is as enjoyable as others. And so it seems that my first gets a perk to counteract the fact that he's our test run in parenting. Because he reaches each age first, it's new and exciting and well, Sam has hit each with grace.

But mostly, I love hanging out with that kid. He's incredibly funny and sharp, and his humour is a bit mischevious, which is something I totally appreciate. He loves his baby sister so dearly that he is absolute putty in her chubby hands. And though they bicker, Sam and Tali are buddies.

His freckles and smile just send me and Sam's artistic talent constantly amazes me. And after falling in love with writing stories this year, I love to see him delve into a novel and then figure out how to write the sequels to the stories he finds end too quickly.

So happy birthday to my best and favorite son (as he likes to call himself)... Nine is going to be great for you--I can't wait to see what you do with it!