Fashion Statement

Yesterday, Cameron was wearing his new Tigers' baseball cap when I picked him up from school.  I had told him that he could not wear it in class, but he could put it on when he went out to play.  "Did your hat keep the sun off your face?" I asked him.

"Not much," he replied, "but at least it's good for looks!"

Detroit Legend

So, I posted earlier about how much fun we had at the Tigers game.  And then I heard that Ernie Harwell, the voice of the Detroit Tigers, passed away tonight.  Baseball won't be the same without him.

Take Me Out to the Ballgame

We had a wonderful weekend visiting friends and family in Michigan.  The highlight of the trip was going to the Detroit Tigers game -- the boys spent the week preparing for this big event.  Matthew trained in Rookie Mode while Cameron went for the Advanced option.

As it turned out, the Tigers were able to win without the assistance of my boys, but they were at the ready.

We all donned our Tigers hats and the boys their mitts, just in case a ball came our way.  This was unlikely as we were seated in a suite.  We aren't typically suite-sitting folk, but this was a super special suite:  The Peanut-Free Suite.  If you don't have a child with a severe food allergy, it probably doesn't occur to you that every day events can be hazardous.  Cameron, my non-allergic boy, went to a Tigers game last year and came home reporting that there were peanuts everywhere.  Matthew, my nut-allergic sports nut, would never get to go to a game it seemed.

UNTIL my dad discovered that the Tigers have a Peanut-Free Suite available for a few games per year.  I can't begin to tell you how amazing it was to take the boys to the game, to see them cheer and yell, and feel like Matthew was safe.  The staff at Comerica Park went above and beyond, even having Paws come in the suite to visit with the kids.

Having grown up in Detroit, I've always been a Tigers fan but now I'm REALLY a fan.  I am hoping that this becomes an annual event for our kids.  So a BIG thank you to my parents and to the Detroit Tigers for an amazing day!

I Had a Dream

Not like an "I Have a Dream" dream, more like a "How Screwed Up is My Subconscious Mind?" kind of dream.  In it, David and I decided to take Cameron to see a movie, which is weird to begin with because Cameron does not have much interest in seeing movies.  You would think we'd take him to "Cloudy with a Chance of Meatballs" or something, but, no.  We took him to a remake of  "Jaws."  This is a kid who gets scared during previews of Disney movies.  We sat him by himself in the middle of the theatre and we went to sit in the back.  As the movie began, it suddenly occurred to me that this was Not a Good Idea.  I rushed to get Cameron and hurried him out of the theatre.

We exited the theatre into what appeared to be a mall food court.  And this, my friends, is where my subconscious decided I had left my 2-year-old.  Yes, my food-allergic 2-year-old.  Alone in the food court.  I spotted him near a table, eating a muffin.  "Oh no!" I thought.  "Milk and eggs!  And maybe peanuts!"

I rushed towards him and he said, "It's okay, mama.  I asked if I could eat it."  This, you see, is one of our food allergy safety rules.  And even my subconscious loves rules. Matthew pointed at a stranger.  "He said I could eat it." 

I tried to grab the muffin out of Matthew's hand, but he took off running.  Still clutching the muffin, he scampered onto a down escalator with me in pursuit.  As I reached the escalator, I noticed that it descended into a long, dark tunnel of rock.  And above the escalator?  Why, there was a sign that read "Escalator to the Center of the Earth."

My subconscious scares me.

In Which My Children are Sweet and Innocent

#1
"Matthew, do you like sharing a room with Cameron?"

Matthew nods "yes" vigorously then looks up at me with concern.  "Mama, I so, so sorry that you don't have a bunk bed.  Maybe we can buy you one at the store."


#2
We took a walk around the neighborhood last night and Cameron spotted some cans underneath a big pine tree.  He gasped.  "Someone LITTERED!  We should get those cans and recycle them."  He crawled underneath the branches and retrieved severals cans of Miller and Bud Lite.  "Eww!  There's still soda in some of these!"

"Cameron," I explained, "that's beer.  I think probably some kids who are not old enough to drink alcohol were out here drinking that beer, and they threw the cans under the tree to hide them."

Cameron shook his head sadly.  "What a shame that some people don't behave responsibly," he said.

Brothers at the Park

The boys and I hit the park today, where we ran into one of Cameron's school friends.  I'll refer to him as Takashi.  Takashi has met Matthew many times but today, after greeting both boys enthusiastically, he stared at Matthew quizzically.  Then he turned to me and said, "Is Matthew . . . is Matthew . . ."  English is Takashi's second language so I waited as he searched for the right words.  "Is Matthew . . . a REAL brother for Cameron?"

"Yes," I said.  "Cameron and Matthew are real brothers.  I think you are asking why Cameron and Matthew look different.  They are real brothers but they look different because we adopted Matthew.  Do you know what adoption is?"

"Noooo," answered Takashi.

"That means that Matthew didn't grow in my belly," I started.

But before I could finish Matthew jumped in.  "I grew in J's belly," he said authoritatively.

"Matthew grew in another mommy's belly," I agreed.  "Her name is J.  And Matthew looks a lot like her.  And after Matthew was born, he came home with us to be a part of our family."

"Oh!" said Takashi, still looked a bit bewildered.  But Matthew was grinning ear to ear.

A while later another mom said to me, "How old is he?"

"He's 2 1/2," I responded.

"Wow!" she said.  "He's so coordinated!  I've been watching him and he can do everything the big kids do!"  Then she pointed to Cameron.  "Is that his big brother?"

"Yes," I said.

"That must be it.  Big brothers always teach little brothers how to do stuff!"

At this, Matthew marched forward and pointed towards Cameron.  "THAT'S my big brother.  His name is Cameron," he said.

"Oh, his name is Cameron?" said the woman kindly.  "I could tell he's your brother.  You look just like brothers, the way you were chasing each other around and playing together."

I thought it was a lovely way for her to acknowledge that Cameron and Matthew are real brothers in so many important ways.

Visit from Debbie

I haven't posted in a while, I know.  The thing is this:  Matthew is two.  I'm spending inordinate amounts of time setting the timer for timeouts and taking away his tricycle and toys.  Sadly, I have yet to discover his currency.  He has figured out that calling me names ("You're a poo poo!" and "You're not a big boy!" were his go-to taunts) just got him a longer time out, so now he shouts from time out, "You're a MOMMY!" in a tone that makes it clear that this is no compliment.  The one thing that keeps him out of trouble is to keep him constantly, endlessly active which is . . . well . . . sort of exhausting. 

Enter my best friend, Debbie. 

Debbie visited from New York City this past weekend and, it turns out, she has endless energy as well.  The boys LOVE her.

Our weekend together was fantastic and we're all missing her terribly. Debbie, Matthew wants you to know that he thinks you're DA BEST.  And me?  I'm Mommy.