All I Want For Christmas?

We couldn't stop laughing about finding this t-shirt while window shopping at Ghiradelli Square. Watch out, Ava...two can play at this game!

The Day We Brought Snow to School

It has been cold; a big cold front that lasts 4-days is coming through. It's first day brought rain which, with the cold evenings, brought snow the hilltops and mountains. From our house, you couldn't tell, however, after making the transition through the Hwy 24 exchange, heading toward the Berkeley Hills, you could see the white stuff covering the tops. I point it out as we head to school:
"Hey, Ava -- see that white stuff at the top of the hill? Guess what that is," I say.
"I dunno, Mommy," she answers.
"It's snow!! Isn't that exciting?"
"You mean like at Aunt Ainsley's house? That's so special! Can we go there and touch it?" she asks.
Why not? I think. So, I get off the freeway and wind our way up to the top. The whole way up each kid is clamoring about each and every snow patch they see. It gets thicker and more even as we progress. We all pile out of the car at a turnout at the crest of the hill. Baby Brother is excited as well, pointing and making muffled chatter through his pacifier. I get a left-over soda cup from the car and tell the kids that we could fill it up with snow and bring it to school for all the kids to see. Excited hands and eyes get busy. They love the shocking feel of the cold snow as they scoop it up and put it into the paper cup. Bettina is so excited, she wants to guard the cup the rest of the way to school and holds it in her lap. I have to do up her seat belt she is so reluctant to let it go. Ava comments as we finish our drive that she wishes is was "S" week at school so that they could put the snow into the mystery box so people could guess what it was.
From the parking lot, Bettina can't carry anything but the snow-filled paper cup to her class she's so preoccupied. As I put her things in her cubby, I look to find her parading the snow around the room like she's Clara with her Nutcracker.
When I pick them up at the end of the day, I ask Ava about sharing their snow. She realizes now that we don't have it. "We forgot our snow at school!" she panics. "Where did it go?" I tell her that Miss Kathy probably threw it out after it melted. "Why?" she asks.
"Well, probably because after the snow melts, it's not so special anymore."
"But, why isn't it special?" she asks, a little hurt.
Perhaps that's the magic and the story to be told. Isn't it wonderful to realize that a pile of dirty water really is still special through a child's eyes because, at one time, it was snow.

Lots of Ballet Today

Alessandro, Julia, Hanna, Ava, Bettina & Christina before watching The Velveteen Rabbit
The ODC version of The Velveteen Rabbit was a last-minute, unexpected treat as some friends found extra tickets 3-hours before showtime. Although we usually see Misty today, we decided to sidetrack and try something new. Who knew it would be as great as it was! And, where else do you get a kid-friendly (both on content and lenght) ballet a mile and a half from your home for $10 a seat?
Despite the fact that it started right at the beginning of Baby Brother's nap time, Alessandro truely loved the show. He sat still and watched from my lap for the whole 60-minutes, pointing and grunting to aspects he particularly enjoyed. Ava and Bettina also did quite well.

As if one holiday ballet a day isn't enough, we'd already scheduled to see The Nutcracker that night with Grandma. The girls dressed up again and we went out for dinner at a place with linen napkins, Sprite sodas and chocolate gelato! "I wish we could have a special day everyday, Momma," Ava concludes.

Off the Market

While driving in the car today, Daddy asked Ava if she'd heard anything about the ad she put out to sell her brother. "No," she answered.

"Do you still want to sell him?" he asked.

"No," she answered. "I'd miss his cute little face," she said, which makes Daddy burst with a smile and glance over at me.

"And, he's sort of funny and makes me laugh," she continued, looking over at him sitting next to her in his car seat.

So, I guess it's final: Baby Brother is off the market.

Wired for Faith

Here's a nice article sent to me by the Children's Minister at our church....poignant, I think:
By Jim Barringer on November 24, 2009 at 12:00 am
My pastor and his wife have a baby, Grace, who everyone agrees is the cutest baby ever born. Whenever she’s trying to walk, or pushing a ball, people can’t help but stare because she’s just so adorable. At Chili’s after church tonight, one of the teens was playing peekaboo with her. You know what peekaboo is like for kids; they think it’s the coolest thing in the world when the person reappears, and they never get bored of it.
That’s because children come into the world with no concept of object permanence, the idea that things continue to exist even when the child can’t see them. Child psychologist Jean Piaget did the groundbreaking work in this area, demonstrating that most children master this concept sometime in the second year of their lives. Prior to that, as far as they are concerned, nothing in the world exists if they’re not looking at it at that precise moment.
I personally think that sounds like a great premise for a horror story: a man lives in a world where things disappear forever if he stops looking at them. The fact that children don’t understand object permanence for the first two whole years of their lives fascinates and terrifies me. While I was busy writing the first draft of a short story in my head, my girlfriend asked, “Why do you think God allowed children to be born like that? Why is object permanence something he makes us learn?”
It’s a brilliant question, with an even more brilliant answer. Being born without object permanence means that, whether we’re conscious of it or not, almost the first thing we learn in our lives is that something can exist even if we don’t see it. Does that idea sound familiar to you? It’s the most crucial building block for having faith in God. Pretty much everything else that we do in the first two years of our life is instinct: crying when we’re hungry, when we’ve just soiled our diapers, when we want attention, when we don’t even know what’s wrong because we’re not used to these fickle bodies yet. All of that is instinct that is not learned or taught. But object permanence is, for most humans, the very first thing that they learn all on their own, and it opens the door to understanding the existence of God. Not only is it a vital physical lesson, it’s the foundation for the most important spiritual truth in the universe as well.
How very brilliant on God’s part that he has so engineered us that, even before we’re capable of articulating the thoughts, he is already guiding us toward knowledge of himself. It really is proof that he is condescending, in the good way – that he delights in descending to everyone’s level, that he is determined to make himself known to everyone on the planet, even those who are too young to understand that he is pursuing them. The very idea makes me worship him even more for his majesty, his subtlety, and the steadfast love he pours out on everyone, including two-year-olds who can’t possibly give anything back to him or even understand or respond to his love yet.
If there is any finer proof that humans were created to discover and worship God, I have yet to hear it.

If you can't beat them....

Housework with three kids around is a bit of a chore, no pun intended. Every time I put away the Tupperware back in the cabinet so I can vacuum the kitchen carpet, Alessandro opens the door and throws them all around again. Imagine trying to clean the hardwood floors, bent over on all fours, scrubbing the old avocado and juice stains off of the wood with a 17-month toddler tackling your mid-section and then climbing up to ride you bronco-style. I know he's probably just trying to get my attention so he can play with me, but with 5-minutes more, I know I can finish the whole room.....so I power through.
How's the saying go? If you can't beat them....
The next thing I know, I look over and there's Little Man on his hands and knees as well, bent over the hardwood floor with my kitchen towel instead of a rag, rubbing the wood and then dipping the towel into the soapy bucket like he's seeing his mommy do. I'm smiling ear-to-ear. What a little wonder! So, laughing and smiling, we clean the kitchen floor together - and I add the kitchen towels to the laundry when we're done!

Brother For Sale

Alessandro's been going through a rough phase...playing rough, that is. He's a hair-pulling, knee-tackling, eye-grabbing kind of guy right now. That's how he thinks he fits in. We're all having a hard time adjusting to it. The girls in particular were at the end of their rope this evening. Ava asked me if I could put Baby Brother in a box. "In a box? What do you mean?" I ask. "In a box downstairs with the other stuff you're going to sell at the Twins' Sale," she answers. "You want us to sell Baby Brother?" I ask. They both nod their heads... Let's go with this and see what come out of their little hearts. I get on the computer and take dictation:

Dear Buyer,
We have a baby to sell and his name is Alessandro. And we don't want to have him because he hits us and do everything else that we don't like and we really don't want him for us. We want another baby brother - a girl baby who will listen to our words to what we say to her. And we don't want to buy Alessandro to us, OK? We want to sell it to you. Alessandro hits a little bit and pulls your hair. It hurts us very, very, very much. And we don't like him. And he goes jumping on our back, pulls our dresses and hugs our knees. We want girl everything.

They're watching me type the email and Ava thinks of an idea. "Let's send this to Antonio [our nephew whose parents are expecting in May]. He wants a baby brother and not a baby sister. Maybe he'll take him." I'm sure Sylvia would, too!

Daddy asks, "But, aren't you going to miss him [Alessandro]?"
"Yeah," says Ava.
"Yeah says Bettina too!" Bettina adds.
But, they both give a look like, "So, when can he move out?"
Poor kids...too bad we love him too much to sell him to someone else.

Better Than a Shot in the Arm

It's the scare everyone is talking about...the local news, the morning talk show, Dr. Dean Edell and every mom at pre-school drop-off: H1N1
There's been so much controversy and panic over how everyone should handle the H1N1 flu season....especially since the vaccine is out late. And, I can't believe how many people, because it's late and not already incorporated into the seasonal flu shot, are scared of the H1N1 shot and think it's actually bad for them. Even my sister, who's an intensive care nurse, pregnant AND has a young child at home, planned on skipping the vaccine. I had to ask: "WHY?!" Well, she summarized, it's a new vaccine and hasn't been tested, so she can't trust it. She was going to get the seasonal shot, because she's been getting that one for years, and that was the extent of it. WHAT? Um, Ainsley....the flu shot, because it's customized every year to which strains they think will hit, is new every year! I know how to get to her, though....I know I'm not convincing...but someone else is: she listened to 2-days of Dr. Dean (which she can do while visiting down in the Bay Area) on the radio and she's converted. Anyone who doesn't get the shot, according to Dr. Dean, especially if you in any one of the high risk categories (my sister was in 3 of them!), should just die from it so the gene pool is that much better off.
Well, the next problem, after you wisely decide to get the shot (and have all your kids vaccinated as well), is to find a place that can give them -- has them actually in store. A few weeks ago, finding the vaccine was an every-day thread in Facebook friends and Mommy-groups communications. Who's got them? Where can you find them?
It was through one of the mom-groups that I learned the City of San Francisco had a large stock of vaccines that they were going to give away at a number of clinics. After following the link, I discover that there's one literally in our neighborhood and I jumped on the chance.
Armed with coloring books, snacks and a stroller to contain Baby Brother, we arrived an hour in advance of the clinic's opening. I was pleased that only about 40-people were in front of me. I was close enough, even, that the kids could run and play in the driveway where they wouldn't be too close to the traffic on the street. Within a half-hour, the line's to the end of the block. Kids run in all directions, women, heavily pregnant, sit in camping chairs that their husbands carried for them, infants sit or fuss in baby bjions or infant car seats. People are talking with each other and the parking lot takes on the feel of a family reunion only the kids were all strangers 45-minutes ago. The clinic ends up becoming a community event.
When the clinic opens, I'm surprised to see not one, but 5 Sheriffs working both in and out of the clinic, reading the rules (high risk people only) to ensure that people behave properly. I think of the other 8 clinics in San Francisco and wonder how many Sheriffs are working overtime so people can get their flu shot. I suppose, however, with all the anxious people worried about being left out, the City didn't want to chance a frenzy or panic. The poor sheriffs ended up being totally unneeded - once inside, they allowed non-children and non-preggers to get their shots, too. So, now, we're all vaccinated with our first round of H1N1. This was 3-weeks ago. Still, almost all my friends living in the East Bay have not been able to get the vaccine, even those with high-risk kids. Their doctors (including my pediatrician) still can't get their orders in. Our pediatrician isn't sure she'll even get some in be the time our second dose is needed. Crazy.
While we were waiting in line at the clinic, Ava, always apprehensive of owies, was still asking why she really needed to get a shot. I told her the shot would be easier to forget than being sick at home for at least a week. She said she thought she'd take her chances and just stay home from school sick, until I reminded her that she also would have to stay home from ballet and Tae Kwon Do and ballet/jazz. She wouldn't get to see her friends anywhere. After consideration, she decides to get the shot. At least it's good to know that she thinks her friends and regular activities are better than a shot in the arm!

Why is Every Kid Under 4 Afraid of Santa?

It surprises me every year...before we're thinking of what to cook for the big Thanksgiving meal, it's always a trip to see Santa! The stores are playing Christmas music and the malls getting the kids excited with Santas abound. We learned last minute about this Santa opportunity at a local nursery and gift store that's known for having the best Christmas displays and tree decorations -- been around since I was the kids' age. They serve hot apple cider (which to Baby Brother, doesn't taste nearly as good as plain apple juice) and home made mint brownies and cookies....HOME MADE (I think I ate about 5!). Each kid got to pick out one tree decoration and we took photos with Santa and put our name in a raffle. We left with lots of cute photos, some knowledge of how German hand-painted decorations are made, full bellies and a prize from the raffle! And I never win those things!
The girls are wearing their Japanese headbands - gifts brought back by Grandma's recent trip there. They have little kimonos that match, too! Alessandro's kimono comes with a matching headband, too -- samurai style.

Halloween On The Hill

Barbie-Princess Fairy (Bettina), a Princess (Ava) and our Little Prince (Alessandro)

Halloween was a fantastic time this year. The girls made up their own

costumes (and carved a pumpkin) while Alessandro got a chance to "understand the rules" and routine of trick-or-treating. At first, he didn't quite know what to do; we had to convince him to take a candy at the first house. At the second house, he took the candy from the first house (which as half-eaten) and put it inside the basket of candy. At the third house, he just picked up the whole basket of treats and started to leave. But, following Ava & Bettina's lead, he learned to take just one..and later, just one handful, and put it in his basket. Funny to watch the whole learning curve.

The girls helped to carve a pumpkin which we entered into the Community Garden Jack-o-Lantern walk party and then Farley's Jack-o-Lantern contest. They won a free hot chocolate, a lollipop, and a whoopie cushion (which has proved to produce much slap-stick style laughter)!

All were tired when we got home and went to bed before eating too much candy. Tomorrow we start daylight savings and gain and hour. I wonder if the transition will be an easy one or if we will all be waking up far too early!

Happy Halloween! Can you find us?

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Boogie for Ba'ha

Ava and Bettina participated last year in a philanthropy event called "Boogie for Ba'ha" (picture is from last-year's event). Their pre-school sponsors the education of a young deaf Palestinian boy named Ba'ha. Ba'ha lives in the Gaza Strip and attends a specialized school for the deaf called the Atfaluna Society for Deaf Children. Ba'ha is the only deaf child in his family with six children and the specialized school helps him to communicate with them as well as the outside world, giving him lifetime skills that will allow him many options to grow up more self-sufficient and full of confidence.



Last year, Ava & Bettina raised $160.00 for Ba'ha's tuition, which is only $600/year. That meant that, together, they helped Ba'ha go to school for nearly one-quarter of a year! This year, they wish to be equally helpful and will promise to dance in the dance party the whole 10-minutes the music plays for your pledges. YOU CAN HELP by:

• sponsoring their dancing efforts (a flat fee or a per-minute pledge) and/or
  
• writing them encouraging notes confirming they are doing something important to help
  

They dance next week, Nov. 4th at 10:30am. Please let me know if you'd like to pledge. Checks (make out to LOPC - Lafayette-Orinda Presbyterian Church) need to be turned in by November 9th.

You can read more about Ava & Bettina's event last year on our blog: http://aboutourbabies.blogspot.com/2008_10_01_archive.html
We are sure to post about this year after its end as well.

Thanks for your help!!
XO,
Allison & Paul

JUMP!

Cousin Braxton (almost 23 months) and Alessadnro (almost 16 months) entertain the crowd by showing they can jump off the fireplace hearth at Grandma's house (a whopping 4"!).

Alessandro - 15-Months

This month, Alessandro gets his 2nd haircut - atop a pony!

Alessandro is

growing like a weed. Each day seems to bring new surprises. While doing busy work around the kitchen, I realize I'm listening to Baby Brother sing "Happy Birthday." How he picked that up, I don't know. Perhaps at William's birthday party? (He was asleep during Elsa's.) However, the girls and I love hearing him so much, we sing it with him just to watch him grin at our recognition and the attention he gets from the applause. He is still experimenting with his gross motor skills, trying to master jumping. So, whenever he climbs a stair or the hearth on my mother's fireplace, we all count, "1, 2, 3!!!" and he jumps and grins, giving himself a hand at gaining both our attention as well as more practice. He is also getting anxious about wanting to hold the spoon during eating time and feeding himself. Usually a disaster, but it's good practice from time to time. I've also noticed that lately, he gets into the cabinets for the purpose of setting the table rather than just making a mess.

He melts hearts in public, insisting on greeting every person he sees with a dimpled smile, a "hi" and a hand wave. He will also blow kisses as he leaves. He is DESPERATE to join the girls at pre-school. He literally jumps from my arms and runs into the classroom, climbing up into a chair to reach the markers and paper or to join the other boys playing on the carpet. He doesn't understand why he can't stay with everyone all day long. The teachers suggest that I enroll him into the class for the 1-2 year olds, but that's not what he wants to do. He wants to be a Sunflower (4's class) just like Ava & Tina and their friends. Much more exciting to draw, do art and play with the big kids.

He still shows no signs of dropping his morning nap or drinking milk anytime soon. He loves watching and chasing the chickens. Sometimes he wants to be with them so much, he walks into their coop, swats and waits for them to come close enough to touch. He is captivated by animals and is nurturing a new love of books. He will carry books all around the house, stopping every now and again to open the pages and show them to people. His favorite is shaped like a race car and came from the Bairds' last visit. I'm loving this age where hugs and kisses come freely and he's usually not far from me - laced between my legs or singing or chatting closeby. He is a real blessing!

The Return of Uno

Uno home at last, head stuffed into her feeding trough. Ava & Tina posing below the "lost chicken" sign we posted at the local store.

Well, we are all celebrating a huge triumph over all the pitfalls of life here! After 3 1/2 days of being out in the wilds of the neighborhood, amid cats, hawks, raccoons and who-knows-what, Uno has returned!!

I must admit, I wasn't very hopeful after the first 24-hours were over Monday night. My email to the neighbors only resulted in stories with sad endings. And, although I didn't want to believe Uno would follow the same fate, the girls clearly didn't believe. In their childhood innocence, being devoured by another creature in the cruel backyard wasn't even on their radar, nor did I want it to be. So, we did all the things a family "should" do when looking for a lost pet. On Tuesday, we made up a sign, which the girls colored, describing our lost chicken, and posted it at the local market among the other fliers. Both on the way there and on return trip, the girls are searching for her and calling her name. As we near home, we timidly enter the state-owned land between our house and the freeway. Some homeless people have cut the fence and there are well-used trails that zig-zag through the giant retaining walls that are terraced above the freeway. I'm reluctant to wander too far, not knowing what I'd come across in the company of kids. Although, we see no sign of Uno there either, Baby Brother has now picked up a new word after hearing it repeated for the last hour: "Uno."

I also created a craigslist ad and posted her picture to it. All that came back Tuesday was another story about pet chickens that had a sad ending too. Today's email, however, was different. When we got back from school, I'd received an email from the craigslist ad I'd created:

"hello, i don't know if this will be any help at this point, but I was in a truck that was getting onto [the freeway] near [your house] and we saw a small white hen on the side of the highway very close to the on ramp. I was afraid for it, but at work and unable to stop. hope this is somehow helpful. good luck! ~kila"

"Was this today? We live right above there...." I answered.

"today around 11am. the [freeway] on ramp near [basically your street]. my co-workers and i really hope you find it."

Wow! There's hope! So, I grab the phone and dial Paul. I tell him the good news. He says he's on his way home. Knowing it's been nearly 6-hours since this nice person saw her, I tell him I'm going to call Nonna and ask her to watch the girls so I go now to see if by chance she's still there.

Nonna's there in 2-minutes.

I first start out running. I reach the on-ramp and realize it would be pretty dangerous for me to just walk out on the freeway. I look to make sure she's not someplace easy for me to get to, but end up running back up the hill and getting into my car. It's commute time, so the on-ramp is slow to merge with the freeway, which is also clogged with traffic. As I approach the freeway, I can't believe that I actually see her on the side of the road! She's stark white against the green ivy that climbs up the retaining wall. It's surreal, actually, seeing a white chicken on a busy city freeway! I slowly inch my way up the traffic-clogged ramp and closer to where she is. I pull to the side, put on my indicators and confuse a bunch of people as I get out of the car and walk to the side. Slowly I walk up to Uno, making sure to talk softly. She lets me get close and only makes a small complaint when I pick her up. I'm SO thankful that she didn't scurry or dart into traffic! The people watching, stuck in the slow commute, are very confused -- did that lady just pick up a chicken? I can hear it in their bewildered faces. I carefully carry her and don't relax until the car door is closed and she's sitting in the passenger seat looking at me. I notice she's got a very dirty face, but is otherwise very healthy. I am so emotional, I nearly cry!

I make my way back onto the freeway and then off the next exit. Uno seems to be thankful already. She walks from the passenger seat and onto my lap. Next up to my arm. She rides perched on my arm and seems to enjoy watching the short drive home. She remains on my arm as we get out of the car and happily announce our arrival to the team of kids at home. Together we take her outside to the coup. She instantly flies down and starts pecking at the food like there's no tomorrow. I let her eat and then fill it up to the top. The water, too. She must be thirsty with all the hot weather we've been having. I can't believe she's been out there for 3 1/2 days!!

Everything settled, I get back to my computer and thank our craigslist friend:

"OMG! I just went down and FOUND HER! Thank you, thank you, thank you! You and your co-worker are AWESOME! You saved a little chicken's life and three little kids' hearts. Can we buy you a round of coffees and some home-made brownies for your next commute???"

He writes back: "no brownies needed, but wow! she's quite a survivor! my co-workers will be so glad. i'm really amazed and happy to know she's at home with her family again."

Well, we are too. Just take a look at Alessandro...calling "Uno" and blowing kisses....

GONE!

Well, we knew that there would be all sorts of stories to come out of our chicken-raising experiences. This is surely one that could have ended the whole series!

I remember yesterday, just after dark, that I didn't close the chickens in and left them to forage around the yard, just as they like to do. Since I was in Sacramento attending my cousin's kid's birthday, I called Paul, who stayed at home, to remind him to close the chickens in before the raccoons came out. When I get home, he's out in front. "Good," I think. "He can help me bring in these three sleeping kids." His eyes tell me he's deeply annoyed by this...or something else. He soon tells me he's been looking for chickens for an hour, "They're GONE!"

After I put the kids down, I go off with a flashlight and confirm what he says. I expect to see strewn feathers or at least a dirt pile where a struggle for life started/ended, but I don't see anything unsual. However, the chickens are not in our yard, nor are they in Nonna's yard next door. Paul and I shine the flashlight under her deck where tons and tons of old wood and building materials lay while we go over different scenarios about what could have happened to the chickens. Paul is so upset and angry at me and swears he's never getting chickens again; we're cruel and terrible guardians. He goes upstairs while I sit in the darkness listening for their cooing/roosting sounds. I get nothing. After about 45-minutes, I give up and go upstairs. As I pass Paul, he tells me that he's going to take a sledgehammer to the coup in the morning so I don't kill anymore innocent chicken-lives. A bit extreme, but I sense there is a little boy in that fury, upset about the unresolved lives of his little pets. I worry about how to explain this to the kids and soothe myself by researching different humane societies that adopt out chickens. Clearly this family loves raising chickens...

I go to sleep but am suddenly not tired. I can't believe I'm losing sleep over chickens! When sleep finally comes, I dream only about scenarios of finding chickens and hope to awake to hear their morning noises outside the window. However, when I do wake, it is still dark and 6am. I notice Paul's not in the bed and never made it, either. I wander around and find him sleeping in the basement with all the windows open. His ears are unusually aware; he awakes to tell me he was hoping to hear them during the night, wandering safely back into the yard so he could close the door behind them. I feel sorry for him as he's clearly fond and concerned about the chickens.

By 7am, the chickens would have started their normal routine of coming out of their boxes and starting to forage for food, waiting for me to come out and fill up their feeder and water. Hopeful and sad, I duck my head out amid getting 3-children ready to leave for school. Paul and I don't talk about it and he leaves for work. About 10-minutes later, he comes back in. "I heard them! They're in the corner lot! I think I saw two of them!" I run up to the neighbor's door and ring it. No one answers. I fly back. Paul asks what I'm doing. "I'm going to jump the fence and get them!"

"Get what, Mommy?" Ava asks. "The chickens," I answer. "What happened to the chickens, Mommy?" "They got lost last night." I go over my mother-in-law's fence and then over the 6-foot cyclone fence that separates her yard from the the next. Two of the chickens, Dos and Tres, are foraging under the rose bushes. It's clear that nearly 6-week old chicks can do something Paul & I didn't consider: fly....fly both far and high.

Hurray!! Within minutes, the two of them are back in the coup. I write a quick email to the neighborhood asking them to be on the lookout for Uno, the yellow-white one. So far, all that's come back is a note saying two chickens were taken from a different neighbor's yard by raccoons. Not encouraging, but we'll keep looking.

I do have to say, however, it is clear that these chickens are part of the family. After dropping off the kids at school, some mom friends were asking, with baited breath, about the chicken-saga. "These chickens have got to be in your holiday card photo this year," one mom ventured. I sort of have to believe that she is right!

We All Fall Down!

Ava decided this morning that she didn't want to take a bath today with Baby Brother. She wanted to do what Bettina got to do last time: take a shower. So, while I bathed Baby Brother, I delegated the shower routine to Daddy, who was about to jump in anyhow. Ava has this thing about not getting her ears or eyes wet, so I was concerned about how she'd take the shower, but her confidence and determination said it was time to give it a try.
From my perch upstairs, I could tell that the shower wasn't all that Ava thought it'd be. She started to complain as Daddy told her that her hair wasn't even wet enough to put in the shampoo. Then I hear more complaining, more screaming, and Daddy just trying to get it done. The scene escalates higher and higher until it sounds like the animalistic panic of pure survival. Then I hear a big crash...Uh, oh...time to investigate...and quickly.
I run down the stairs and find the whole shower curtain and rod on the floor, both Daddy and Ava on their backs on top of it. Daddy finally got the water turned off. The only thing left standing is Bettina, wondering what the heck just happened.
Apparently, Ava was so determined NOT to finish her shower that, when Daddy picked her up to go under the shower to wash her shampoo out, she kicked off the wall with such force, it sent both Daddy and she flying backwards out of the shower, taking the curtain and rod down with them.
I couldn't help myself....listening to the story, tears of laughter were streaming down my face. That's one determined kid!!! Thank goodness no one was hurt! I guess its only baths again for Ava.

Pete Mulvihill of Green Apple Books Recommends: Raising Chickens in San Francisco!!

AUGUST 11, 2009 | SAN FRANCISCO
Pete Mulvihill of Green Apple Recommends

Don't forget: the books mentioned below are available at 20% off for tablehopper readers for two weeks following this mention at Green Apple Books—simply use the code "tablehopper" at checkout (either at the store or online) for your discount.
If you're just looking for a book to read, this month's Bookworm column may not be of much help to you (though we have thousands, of course, at the store). But if you're thinking of keeping chickens, read on. (Are those crickets I hear?)
This spring, my wife and I shamelessly jumped on the "urban homestead" bandwagon. We were inspired by the usual factors: Michael Pollan, these thrifty times, neighbors who keep bees. We also wanted to show our city kids where food comes from. So when my wife's office (Sunset magazine) got chickens, we toyed with the idea of getting ourselves a few laying hens. We hemmed and hawed, not wanting any more responsibilities in life, but curious. Between Farm City and Sunset magazine's experiences, we realized just how easy it is to keep chickens. So in mid-April, we pulled the trigger and bought four chicks: two barred Plymouth Rocks and two Cuckoo Marans.
And we got The Joy of Keeping Chickens by Jennifer Megyesi ($14.95).
Each chick was five days old and, at $4.50 each at Half Moon Bay Feed and Fuel, seemed like a good deal for two–three years of eggs. Of course, we also bought about $100 worth of stuff: cage, heat lamp, waterer, and feed. While the chicks grew surprisingly quickly atop our dryer, we threw together a coop and run with recycled lumber from Builder's Resources for about $40, plus another $100 or so at hardware stores for plastic roofing, chicken wire, etc. At about eight weeks, the pullets moved outside.
While we waited for eggs, one chicken gradually showed his true colors: he was a little more aggressive, had a bigger comb, and eventually started the day (his last) with a pure "cock-a-doodle-doo." Once we realized we had a rooster on our hands, action had to be taken. So we consulted The Joy of Keeping Chickens (and YouTube), then we slaughtered, plucked, cooked and ate "Tillie." S/he made a nice pozole, albeit an expensive one. And while I would have preferred another laying hen to a hearty pozole, that process was ultimately a rewarding byproduct of our urban homesteading experiment.
And finally, last week, 22 weeks and $333 later, we got our first egg. And it was deliciously rich and rewarding. Even now, a week later, we're giddy when we open the little door to the laying box and find a light brown treat.
As for the book, it has everything you need and more—it even covers raising birds for meat, which is just not practical or cost-effective in San Francisco. It's well organized, clearly written, nicely put together, colorful, and very respectful, even loving.
FAQs: we sold our chick "starter kit" to another family for $50, so that reduced our costs. Plus, our picky-eater preschoolers provide many scraps for the chickens, and our local produce market saves trimmings from aging greens for the hens—both of these things keep our feed costs minimal.
You can leave your hens untended for days on end, so it's much easier than owning a cat or dog (though it's best to ask a neighbor to collect your eggs every day or so—since that task has its own reward, it should be pretty easy). In San Francisco, you can have up to four animals (e.g. if you have a dog, you can only have three chickens). No roosters. I have no idea about other cities.
Inspired? Feel free to email me or ask for me when you're in the store. Or see my wife's blog: with this link, you'll see the chicken entries only (in reverse chronological order, so start at the bottom).
Next month: a review of egg recipe books perhaps. Thanks for reading.

It Makes It ALL Worthwhile

As crazy and manic as my life gets, there is an occasional zinger that cuts me to the core and reminds me how much I have it made:
After cleaning the kitchen last night, I look down at my feet and scoop up a cute little boy with a pacifier in his mouth. "Wanna give me a kiss?" I ask him, looking at him eye-to-eye. He takes his pacifier out and puts his wet little mouth to my lips. I'm a bit surprised as I didn't think he'd know what I was saying. However, I'm so touched by this unexpected gesture of love, I squeeze him and say, "I love you!" With the pacifier back in his mouth, he says, "I wuv jui." My heart leaps. "Give me a hug, bug," I say. He opens his arms around my neck, lays his head on my shoulder and gives a bear squeeze. "My lord, he doesn't miss a thing. He knows exactly what's going on," I think. I hold him closer, squeeze him back and rock back and forth. I am amazed and so very thankful for this little gift and a transcendental moment that is now etched in the memory of my heart.

Breakdown of a Typical Busy Day

Wake up at 6:00am to baby's cries. Change baby's diaper and let him drink from his sippy cup so he can go back to sleep for another hour. Try to sleep again, but can't. Get out of bed. Do a couple loads of laundry. Get baby out of bed and changed into clothes. Make pancakes as girls come down the stairs. Clean up kitchen while everyone eats. Help girls get dressed and do their hair while making their beds. Put the girls' ballet/dance clothes in backpacks while searching for Baby's shoes and 2 more diapers for the bag. Throw some snacks in my purse. Out the door by 9:15 am. Meet friends at the door of the Academy of Sciences museum at 10am. Spend 2-hours with butterflies, fish, alligators and penguins. Help escort five kids to lunch room and divi-up lunch. Eat leftovers. Another hour in newly-discovered toddler play room (score!). Go back to car after saying bye to friends and drive to the East Bay. Drive past 3 new houses on the MLS that could have potential. Wonder why the newest one isn't open for Broker Tour day. Stop by child consignment shop to look at Halloween costumes. Deposit check into bank. Drive to ballet/jazz class. Chat with friend while girls dance. Admire how cute they are!! Pick up Grandma to run errands. Drive to mall. Return items at two different stores, fall in love with new western lines at Janie & Jack. Make mental note to check often for sales. Help Grandma buy new frying pan while managing children who have to touch everything. Eat dinner at Nordies. Look at and try on Christmas dresses (!?!) that Grandma wants to buy the girls. Drop Grandma back home. Try to make it to the bridge's toll plaza again before the 7pm carpool lane is over. Miss carpool lane by 30-seconds. Unload car. Give kids small snack and juice. Change everyone into pajamas, tidy room and get out ballet outfits for tomorrow's class while girls brush their teeth. Put baby to bed. Read two books to girls. Go outside to feed chickens and change water. Do another load of laundry. Go back upstairs to chastise girls for being too chatty and silly. Try to go through email. Go back and separate girls so they will settle down. Read email in the dark because one kid is now in my room. Put her back into her own bed 30-minutes later and rub her back for 15-minutes until she relaxes enough to sleep. Greet Daddy in a whisper-voice as he come home to see what eveyone is doing. Shushes Daddy who wants to wake everyone up since his late meeting made him miss "everything." Make lunches for tomorrow's school day. Fold 3-loads of laundry. It's now 11pm. (sigh!) Wish I had more time for fixing clothes, taking pictures of things to sell on eBay and to perhaps read a chapter from the new book lent by Grandma. Remember that lunch's leftovers are still in the car. Go out and retrieve them. Turn out all the lights. Watch sleeping husband passed out in front of TV. Leave the hall light on a bit for him. Change clothes. Get into bed (ahhhh!). Remember I'm hosting dinner for 3 high school friends tomorrow night. Panic. Contemplate getting out of bed to defrost something. Decide I'll deal with that issue "in the morning." (another deep sigh) Nighty-night!