This little light of mine...

Maddie had a lovely teacher last year. It seemed like the teacher really "got" her and it made me feel good. In all my decisions about moving Maddie to a different school, it was never about the teacher, but more about the academic curriculum and pressure put on the teachers and student by the administration.

Maddie loved her teacher. She hand-picked a bouquet for the last day of school and spent weeks making a picture video for the teacher using pictures we had taken throughout the year. We received a thank you note from her teacher today. I had to read it to Maddie because the teacher has a very artsy style of writing and she was having trouble reading it. I could barely get through it without crying!


Dear Maddie and family,

Hello, everyone! I hope this card finds you guys in the best of health. Maddie, you've grown so much, I will miss you and all the terrific things you stood up for. When I think of you, I will think about the song, "This little light of mine, I'm gonna let it shine."

Maddie, never lose your insightful ways, continue to focus on "how you can" vs. "why you can't."

I love everything about you, you're wonderfully made.

Love,

Mrs B.

P.S. I almost forgot to say thank you for my flowers, class movie and your precious friendship!

Snippets...

While teaching the kids to play poker tonight, we were reminded how unintentionally funny Bella really is.

John deals the cards for 5 card draw. He deals the fourth card, Bella picks it up and adds it to her hand.

Bella: "I got a match!"



And later, after a tough hand of betting, Bella loses a big pot to Liam.

Bella: "I just felt a little bit of throw-up in my mouth."

You know you wish you were married to me...

I usually try to keep this blog rather kid-focused. Let's face it. Very few of you want to hear about my birth clients or doula conferences or whatever. But, I do want this blog to represent a little of who I am (other than the sarcastic tone) for the sake of my children. Because, well, this is their baby book/scrapbook/you're lucky I took a break to write any of this nonsense down.

So, here's the thing. I've determined that men/boys really don't like nagging. Not only do they not like nagging, but it actually does not work. So, I've taken to other methods of getting the message across. For example, John often stays in the living room watching TV after I am ready to go to bed. So, I tell him I'm ready for bed, invite him to join me and go to bed. Then, in the morning, he blames me for leaving him on the couch. So, I sent this email to my husband this morning.

Dear John,

I am wondering if I have done something to upset or offend you. It seems like whenever we are together, you enjoy yourself. I do my best to provide a satisfying experience for you. I'm just wondering why it is that you haven't come by much lately. Let me know if there is something I can do to regain your business.

Fondly,
your bed

It went over well. He didn't even respond because he said he didn't have anything equally clever to send back. That went so well that just a few hours later, another inanimate household object had something to say.

Dear John,

If you want your wife and I BOTH to survive a lightning storm, you may not want to wrap the cord around me so damn many times.

Much love,
your new umbrella

The Secret Identities of Superheroes...

Once upon a time, John and I were young single kids. We dated, we partied, we ran around without a care in the world. Then, unexpectedly, we found ourselves knee-deep in cloth diapers and organic baby food. Even though you get nine months, I still think that transition can feel a little abrupt. So, then we spend our days (and most nights) as superheroes. We perform superhuman feats such as nursing two babies at the same time, carrying one baby in the carseat and another on the hip, working 50-60 hour weeks and then coming home to rock babies to sleep. If that isn't the definition of superhero, I don't know what is. And when they look up at you, oh, then. You see it in their eyes. You are a superhero.

All along, though, that original identity is still lurking. You might even call it a secret identity, because in the granola-crunchy community, getting a babysitter and singing karaoke until 2 am on a Saturday might not be looked upon kindly. For some reason, complete self-sacrifice seems to come with the package of attachment parenting, breastfeeding and organic living. We always worked hard to resist that sacrifice of everything else in our lives for the kids.. We always insisted (partly due to some great influences in our lives) that our marriage came first. So, we maintained our secret identities. On a Saturday night, we could still be the couple you could confuse for newlyweds, the way we drank, danced and gazed at each other from across the bar. Yet still, we spend long afternoons walking in the woods with the kids and plan transformative homebirths for our children.

Like any superheroes, there comes a time when worlds collide. I've had glimpses of it, when we're out and someone is showing pictures of their several month old baby and we casually mention that we have a few little whipper-snappers ourselves. Or someone we know asks about the kids. I always feel a little awkward, though, when people do this. Then it becomes this big scene: "You have a baby?" "Oh my god! You have 4?" "How old are you? You can't be much older than me!" On Saturday, though, they really collided.

We went to a birthday party for a friend downtown. The street outside the bar had been blocked off and the city had sand volleyball, a reggae band, and a slew of island drinks and food. It was pretty cool - we just joined as everything was wrapping up. John and I were in the beer line and we started chatting with a guy in line. He and John recognized each other as having met at a party a few years ago. He introduced us to a friend of his and she immediately stopped and stared at me. "Are you Maddie Hickey's mom?" John and I looked at each other, completely stunned. Looking back, I realize that this question might not have hit so hard earlier in the night, but after my ?th cocktail, that question completely blew my mind.

As it turns out, the girl was a camp counselor at the fine arts camp Maddie had been attending all week. She said that the counselors had a get-together after the last day of camp and spent much of the time discussing how Maddie was an incredible human being. This really warms my heart because Maddie often struggles with her place in this world. Her heart is really big and I think it takes a certain level of maturity to appreciate it and not think she is putting on airs.

So, although my head nearly exploded when she asked me about Maddie, I felt really happy driving home, knowing that people do and will appreciate her for the incredible person that she is, she just needs to hang out with college kids. Wait, did I say that made me feel better?

I'm sorry, what?

Recent communication errors here at the Hickey household:

Bella (on the eve before her birthday): "Mom, I'm tired, I'm cranky, my mosquito bites itch and my feet are all dirty."

Kat: "Bella, even though you're tired, cranky, itchy and dirty, I still love you like crazy."

Bella snuggles in closer, pauses and thinks for a minute. "Who's Gracie?"


We're watching some ridiculous nature show that John is obsessed with watching. They do different episodes about different creatures - this one was about snakes, more specifically a search for a huge anaconda. John and Liam are enthralled. Jackson periodically narrates the show. A horse shows up on the screen. "Horsie!" The man gets on the horse. "Horsie! Ride horsie!" The man dismounts the horse. "Oh. All done."

John: "This show is awesome. This is why I want to be a cryptobiologist."

Maddie: "A creepy bi-what-o-gist?"

Ticket to Ride, Part Two

Okay. Part two. Our original court date was two weeks ago, but I wanted to go into Ohio to celebrate my sister-in-law's birthday with her, so I called and got a continuance for two weeks. That put the court date at Wednesday, June 25.

Once I discovered that this ticket required a court appearance, I informed Bella that she would be accompanying me. I didn't lay it on too thick, I figured she'd be nervous enough. I had no idea just how nervous she would be.

The morning of, Bella was on a video chat with my mom.

Bella: "Sorry, Grandma, I have to go. My mom and I are going to pick out a cute outfit so they don't send me to jail."

I really had no idea that Bella thought that this violation could lead to jail time. And, my mom only passed on the above quote AFTER we returned from the courthouse.

We did take what we know about costuming and apply it to our choice of clothing. Bella wore a white linen dress with a ruffled collar and little lavender accents. She wore matching white sandals. I wore a white top, a black pencil skirt and black kitten heels. Doesn't white just scream innocence?

It took quite some time to figure out where to go and what to do at the courthouse. After walking back and forth from both courtrooms, checking the lists and writing my name on a little slip of paper, we finally settled into the seats in the courtroom. We sat. And sat. And sat. We watched prisoners in jumpsuits shuffle out, shackled to each other. We watched them stand, one by one, entering their plea, putting their heads down. Then we watched them shuffle back, dejected. It was incredibly demoralizing.

Bella went through quite a series of emotions. When we first sat down, she said, "I'm nervous." I said, "Me, too. I'm glad you're here with me." She smiled at that, proud that she could make a difference. Later, she got squirmy and bored. She drew in my notepad for a while. We started whispering back and forth. Eventually, the bailiff came over and told us to be quiet. Bella looked shocked. She put her head down, claiming to be tired, and tried to fall asleep. We had been there just over an hour.

Somewhere in this time, I saw a friend of ours who is an attorney. We had carpooled together the previous year. She saw us after a little bit, looked shocked and came over to ask what we were doing there. We gave her the Reader's Digest version. She said she'd be right back and went up to look at the stack of files by the judge. She came back over and said we were still way down at the bottom of the pile. She would see what she could do.

After the next "defendant" was done, they called us up. I stood at the podium and instructed Bella to stand next to me, far enough away from the podium for the judge to take in the gratuitous cuteness of Bella. Our attorney friend whispered to the judge for 30 seconds, which felt like 30 minutes as we stood up there in silence. Finally, our friend said, "Just look at Bella. Isn't she the cutest?"

The judge turned to us.

Judge: "Are you Kathleen Hickey."
Kat: "Yes, sir. I am."
Judge: "And, besides your attorney, who do you have with you today?"
Kat: "This is Isabella."
Judge: "Are you Isabella?"
Bella nods.
Judge: "Is this your mother?"
Bella: "Yes."
Judge: "Your attorney says that you made a mistake and you're sorry. If you can promise me that this will never happen again, I can dismiss all charges and let you go home."
Bella smiles and nods gleefully.

Stunned, I turn around to leave and our attorney friend walks us out. She had told the judge the situation. She added that "Kat is one of the best moms I know." She asked him to take the opportunity to lay it on a little thick for Bella so that she would take more responsibility for her car seat and buckle. He did, all right.

So, we went home with vows to do better next time, at least $200 that we thought we'd have to give to the government and gratitude for the generosity and kindness of good friends. All in all, best case scenario for a trip to the County Courthouse.

Ticket to Ride? Part One.

We got pulled over. For having such a lead foot, I really haven't gotten pulled over in a long time. I think I got pulled over about 7 times in the year-and-a-half between getting my license and turning 18. No tickets, though. I said "yes, sir" quite a bit and tried to seem very innocent and remorseful. At some point, that just stopped working. Maybe it was the minivan instead of the cute little sedan. Maybe it was the kids in the car - the whole - endangering innocent lives thing. Or maybe I've just lost my mojo.

Back to the point. It was Liam's birthday, May 19. Grandpa Ken took Liam golfing after school and I picked the girls up at the bus stop and drove straight to the chiropractor appointment. Bus comes between 3:58 and 4:04. Appointment is at 4:15 because the chiropractor refuses to give me a 4:30, which would actually be realistic. And he's cranky when we're late. And it takes about 18 minutes to get from bus stop to chiropractor's office with ideal traffic. So. Impossible to be on time, right? If obeying the laws of physics, gravity and Indiana? So, we defied the only one of the three we could.

We got pulled over when we were about 5 minutes away. The nice police officer informed me that he pulled me over because: (multiple choice)
A) I was speeding.
B) My plates/registration were expired.
C) I had a child in the back who appeared not to be in a seat belt.
D) All of the above.

If you guessed D, you are a sadist. And also correct.

I was speeding. True. It was May 19. Apparently, my plates expired on May 15. I had the plate in the garage and I was waiting for John to put it on. The registration said that the new one expires on May 28, 2009, so I assumed that the current ones were the same. No, the nice officer informed me. In 2008, they expire on the 15 of the month and in 2009, they will expire on the 28th. Fantastic.

And so we come to C. Buckling up in the car has never really been a priority for Bella. She usually took care of any other little thing in the car (putting on her shoes, brushing her hair, talking/fighting with siblings) before buckling up. We have tried: "Your job is to put on your buckle first, as soon as you get in the car." We have tried: "Don't do anything else until you are buckled in." We've tried yelling, screaming, pulling over and waiting until she does what we ask. She growls at us. It's less than fun.

Back to May 19: We're halfway to the chiropractor. I look back and Bella is sitting in the middle seat, lap belt only (no shoulder belt) and not in her booster seat (required in Indiana until 8 years or 80 pounds). I got angry and told her she had to be in the booster and not in the middle. She unbuckles to move into the booster seat sitting right next to her. According to the police man and Bella's combined accounts, Bella decided to "bounce around" and say hi to Jackson in the seat in front of her before settling into her seat belt. This seems to be the time when the police man "allegedly" clocked me driving just a skosh over the speed limit. With expired plates.

You'd think that would be bad enough. That calling to tell the chiropractor that we were waiting on the side of the road to get a ticket and wouldn't be able to make it would be embarrassing enough. Nope. It appears that since one of the charges was a child restraint violation, that I had to go to court for it. Awesome. Who's coming with me? You got it. Bella.

!Feliz Dia de Padres!

And a Happy Father's Day to all you dads out there. As I said to John this morning, nice job spreading your seed! [wink] Hope you have a wonderful day full of the smell of animal flesh searing on the grill, the crisp flavor of an ice cold beer and the warmth and love of your family.

Ah, those olden days before DVDs and electricity...

Maddie and I were chillin' the week before last. Mamaw Dot took Liam and Bella back to Ohio, so during the day I just had Maddie and Jackson. Maddie and I were watching a movie - Cinderella 3. No, seriously. It was so bad, it didn't even go straight to DVD, it went straight to Disney Channel.

Anywho, there was a scene where Cinderella was out in a meadow, singing.

Maddie: "This part reminds me of that one movie we watched with Grandma Dot."

Kat: "The Sound of Music?"

Maddie: "Yeah! That's the one! Back in the olden days, they really liked that movie. I think it's kind of boring."

This from the child who sat attentively through "March of the Penguins" in the theater and after it was over and we were walking out said, "Um, that was just a movie about penguins."

Who was that masked man?

I retract my comment that the current soccer league is perfect. After the drama of Liam's soccer coach no-showing last week and Grandma Dot having to step in, this week proved to be interesting in a different way. It was the Liam show.

Liam basically took the ball to the net every single time his shoe touched it in the first quarter. He scored at least two goals and some of the kids seemed to give up at trying to stop him. In the second quarter, the coach tried to change it up a little by putting him on defense. That worked really well in some ways. None of the other team's players got anywhere NEAR the goal. Liam would go after the ball and boot it to the other side of the field. This would have been really great if any of his players were on that half of the field, but all the offensive players from his team were huddled around where the ball just was.

The coach took him out for a while, but then greedily put him back in because the game was kind of boring without him in. So, he scored a few more times. At one point, a player from the other team was dribbling the ball near midfield on the side of the field John and I were on. Liam runs up to the kid, says "thank you," steals the ball away and scores. John and I look at each other. "That was borderline," I said.

I have no pictures from this game because I put the camera away. I just didn't want to be that mom who is shooting pictures of her kids whooping your kids' butt.