A request we can't refuse

Blame it on Earth Day, or the community helpers unit at preschool, or the bible camp they've been doing with a rainforest theme. Whatever the origin, Lauren and Maddie have become particularly eco-conscious lately. They scoop up litter. They acquired a basic grasp of the life cycle of a butterfly. (Although, thanks to Eric Carle's Very Hungry Caterpillar, they seem to think salami is a staple in the caterpillar's diet.) Lauren got very excited about planting some marigolds in the front flower bed this year. Amidst all of this, someone hammered home the importance of water.

Maddie got thirsty this morning and said, "Mommy, can I have some water so I don't die?"

Uh, yeah.

Run, Jump, Throw

One of Leah's year-end activities is a mini-Special Olympics event hosted by a nearby elementary school. Her school is one of seven that participated this year. It's our second year at the event, and so far we've had weather extremes to contend with. Last year's event was unusually hot, which means Leah was wilting well before the awards ceremony. This year the weather was unseasonably cool, forcing Mike to run home for jackets and miss some of the events.

But not before we formed a mini-cheering section.


Leah threw a softball a couple of feet ...


After a few anxiety-provoking moments, she did throw the turbo javelin, instead of stabbing herself with it.


This is not a minor issue. One parent got hit in the mouth with an errant 'turbo jav' (as those familiar with such things call it) and had to leave the event to get stitches. Maybe guns aren't the weapons we should be controlling ...

Despite the detailed instructions she received (below), Leah did not seem to approach the 'run' part with much urgency. In addition to the casual pace she set, she also decided to experiment with lane-changing.


Watching her jump was oddly gratifying, perhaps because it reminded me that it took a lot of practice and a number of occupational therapy sessions to teach her to lift both feet off the ground at once. Which she did.


In the end, Leah happily went up to receive her medal during the closing ceremonies ...


... and was quite happy to show off her 'shiny gold medal' for the camera.

The Frogs turn into princesses

Lauren and Maddie's ascendancy to kindergarten turned out to be quite a production, complete with mini-mortarboards and a recording of Pomp and Circumstance. Perhaps more pomp than I would have chosen for a group of 4 and 5-year-olds, but I had to admit, they all looked pretty cute in the graduation regalia.

Of course, it's never too early to learn that whoever designed mortarboards was probably not a college graduate himself.

I suppose in this day and age, with soccer parents around every corner, it doesn't hurt to give our kids any competitive edge we can find. So I am delighted to point out that the next time graduation rolls around (I suppose it could be as early as next year), Lauren and Maddie could be well above average (or -- dare I say it -- gifted) at winning the battle with ill-fitting haberdashery.

Their classmate (also a Lauren, by the way) looks horrified at the travails Lauren and Maddie have had to endure in the name of ceremony. Fear not, young Lauren M. -- all this adversity is character-building.

And then came the best part -- cake, and the opportunity to make a lot of noise in the multipurpose room. In other words, they were four again.

We were sad to say goodbye to Mrs. Endlich, Mrs. Ryan, and Miss Maria -- they were a phenomenal team.

New room

The favorite colors: Red (Maddie) and green (Lauren).

The problem: How to decorate their room -- a new look to go with much-desired new bunk beds -- without turning it into a 365-day salute to Christmas.

The solution: A springy green (I think the name had 'celery' in it somewhere) and red accents that eventually spilled over their chair-rail border in an act of frenzied stenciling. A handful of brushes and about a thousand touch-ups later, the girls seem happy and the would-be muralist is at least pleased that refilling the room with furniture distracts from some of the imperfections.

The twins have been trading nights on the top bunk have been scrupulous about remembering whose turn it is.

Today, he'd be Swift-Cabined

Alison, Julie, Colin and I went to the Nationals' new park last Saturday for an evening of healthy food and quiet contemplation. On our way in, we met one of the racing presidents.

Worth every penny

For once, we did not mind paying extortionate amusement park prices for a picture. This one is from our trip to Hershey Park a few weeks back. (Big thanks to our friends the Rulos and the defense contractor Northrup Grumman for the preseason visit.) Mike and Leah got some quality dad-daughter time on the roller coasters. The picture is from the Wild Mouse ride, which looks relatively benign from the ground, but Mike assures me I would hate it. I might have to revise my stance on roller coasters long enough to hear Leah's happy cackles as she gets a few minutes of awesome sensory input. The original picture has pride of place on Mike's desk at work.

Happy Mother's Day!

Lauren and Maddie learned this song for their preschool's Mother's Day brunch. And, yes, their hair was chopped off this week.

And now, the version for the hearing- (and harmony-) impaired ...

It's beginning to look a lot like Christmas?

Or so Maddie hoped the other day. Mike and Lauren and Maddie were discussing Lights on the Bay, Annapolis' annual Christmas-light extravaganza (no idea how the subject arose in May, but we have never been seasonally appropriate around here). Maddie wanted to jump in the car and drive to Sandy Point State Park to see the lights. Mike explained that since we still have more than six months to go until Christmas, the light show is not taking place at the moment, and though the holiday spirit never completely leaves the Hamilton house (Rudolph still periodically flies around our living room), we will have to wait until late November to go back. No point in driving over there now, as there's nothing to see.

Anyone expecting Maddie to be disappointed should think again. She was quick to point out the upside: "We could be first in line!"

I hope George Lucas is done making Star Wars movies ...

Now we are six

When we decided to expand the family, we decided any additions needed to be contained in small quarters -- a wire cage, for example. If only the state of Maryland didn't take such a dim view of this approach to child rearing, our household might be quiet, our closets organized, and our holiday letters a lot less warped ...

Since cats are not appreciated in our house, both for their allergy-inducing traits and for their personalities, and most dogs are equally hard on certain people's respiratory systems, we opted for a guinea pig for our first foray into family pet ownership. In January, before the plague struck, we brought a female guinea pig home from PetSmart. The 'Name That Pig' sweepstakes began on the ride home. First order of business was pointing out to Lauren and Maddie that Rudolph, while a lovely name, might not be gender-appropriate for a female. Then began the desperate search for alternatives as Lauren and Maddie began to contemplate the name of Rudolph's girlfriend. There will be no new Hamiltons named Clarice, thank you. I became rather partial to Vixen, but was outvoted in the end. The girls preferred Mike's suggestion -- Miss Piggy -- probably bolstered by their recent exposure to a DVD collection of episodes from The Muppet Show. But she will remain a saucy little vixen in my mind.


One of her early favorite spots was the back of my neck. I suspect my hair looked like something she could nest in. She has learned how to let us know, on no uncertain terms, that she needs more hay, which is her favorite snack. So far she has resisted our attempts to add some of the fruits and veggies other people tell us guinea pigs often love. Greens and carrots have been met with indifference, and when we offered orange slices, she boycotted that area of her cage. Another picky eater -- she fits right in.

The happiest moment of her brief life? Probably when she figured out she could jump from the chair she and Lauren were sitting in straight into her hay bag.

Winter blues ... and pinks, and some other gross colors

We've spent a certain portion of the winter warding off various versions of the plague -- including a raging case of pinkeye (a gift to me from our lovely Leah) that reminded Mike of South Park's first-season Halloween episode. We managed to stretch jokes about brain-eating and cries of "piiiiinnk eyyyye" over the three days I looked like one of Parker & Stone's living dead ...

Apparently this was a particularly bad year for germs, at least in Maryland. Our tally, in the space of a month, was seven colds, four ear infections, three stomach viruses, one case of bronchitis, and the aforementioned two cases of pinkeye. We finished banishing the germs just in time to grapple with the early arrival of spring allergies. I am all in favor of mild winters (except when I think about the money we forked out for Lands' End snow boots, and then I feel a little bitter), but would also like to possess a fast-forward button to get us through the first few allergy-infested days until the Claritin kicks in. Allergy symptoms tend to kill Leah's desire to cooperate at school and make for some extra emoting on the part of our resident drama queen (Maddie).

However, we have emerged, relatively unscathed, quirks intact, and are ready to resume posting.

Be careful what you wish for, again

Language skills have always been a big component of Leah's IEPs. This year's goals include some remedial conversation skills. It can be an arduous job to convince Leah to talk when she doesn't have to; asking questions is a fairly recent phenomenon. ("What's that?" was cause for celebration.) The ability to put together two or three exchanges with another person might tactfully be described as an emerging skill.

In Hamilton fashion, this skill is choosing to emerge in unusual ways. A little while back, Leah and one of her therapists came upstairs after a session. I chatted with Monica for a few minutes while Leah pulled out a stuffed Maisy she has had since she was a baby. Maisy comes and goes, forgotten for chunks of time before finding favor again, usually right about when Leah's sixth sense tells her we are thinking about including Maisy in our next trip to the Salvation Army. Monica, whose home is not yet overrun with small children and enormous quantities of toys, was unfamiliar with Maisy. (If you've ever seen the cartoon version on Noggin, you might agree with the adage that ignorance is bliss.) So she asked Leah, "Who's that?" Leah replied, "That's Maisy." Monica commented that she had never heard of Maisy, and I was beginning to tell her about the children's books and aforementioned Noggin show, when Leah decided to continue the conversation. She told Monica, "Maisy's picking her nose."

When we were done laughing, I noticed that Leah had, indeed, positioned Maisy's hand on the black tip of her nose. Touche.

Rookie no more

Kevin takes this uncle thing to heart. He gave Maddie some jamming pointers when she got her new guitar for Christmas:


... He showed flair as a puppeteer later on:


... And, in the ultimate act of family love, did not appear to mind when two four-year-olds planted themselves on his lap while he was trying to have a few quality moments of communion with his Nintendo DS:


However, for pure goofiness, he could still pick up a few pointers from Auntie Heather:


Who constructed this stunning self-portrait/piece of performance art/tribute to bows with the scraps from Christmas morning. Martha Stewart (who, with a bevy of assistants, could have turned these into an elegant, festive centerpiece) would be quietly horrified.

The real marital aid ...

Heather thought this shirt could save Colin a lot of breath. Looks like Julie agreed with the wardrobe choice ...

... though Julie was the first to use it when she gave Colin two copies of the same book!

Meeting of the (quirky) minds?

What do you get when you cross Leah's Simpsons obsession with Lauren and Maddie's Playhouse Disney favorites, Little Einsteins and Mickey Mouse Clubhouse?

You get Mickey, Minnie, Donald, Daisy, and Goofy figures singing, "Mr. Plow, that's my name, that name again is Mr. Plow." (See The Simpsons, Season 4, which my DH gave me for my birthday a few years ago, and has entered regular DVD rotation.)

Christmas Present: The 2007 Holiday Letter

For the one or two of you who were wondering where it is:

A heartfelt (and heartwarming?) holiday greeting
December 2006: Annual batch of Hamilton holiday greetings are dispatched to post office, leaving us to ponder whether spirit of Christmas season would be better served by a heartwarming family message, instead of salute to sarcasm our yearly update has become. Then painkillers wear off (female head of household’s broken leg begins to heal).
However, in late 2007, with holiday card season approaching, we recall that brief, codeine-induced thought, probably because leg now serves as occasional bad-weather barometer. And so begins Christmas quest: Can Hamiltons do heartwarming?
We think to ourselves that spirit of season surely must be alive in three angelic children. As luck would have it, young Lauren is soon spotted playing with toy nativity set recently unearthed from basement. Nativity figures are neatly arranged in semicircle around cherubic baby Jesus. On closer inspection, Jesus’ crowd of admirers includes Santa, an elf, and Mrs. Claus. Menagerie in stable has been joined by reindeer. Lauren adds Christmas tree to corner of stable, and for finishing touch, delicately places dollhouse-size toy pizza under tree. Time to vacate area before lightning strikes.
Later we retreat to laptop, pondering heartwarming highlights from 2007. Christmas spirit is about to flow forth when Leah approaches with remote control, in pieces. Favorite self-stim activity, embarked upon whenever parents forget to hide relevant equipment, has recently devolved to dismantling remote. Extreme irritation quickly supplants heartwarming sentiments as we are forced to point out to Leah that umpteenth attempt at destruction has resulted in tear in rubber keypad. Leah replies, in best well-duh voice, “Tape.” Future Christmas moment pondered, in which Leah receives pieces of remote control in stocking.
Rankin-Bass-style Christmas spirit infiltrates household after repeated requests for airing of Rudolph the Red-Nosed Reindeer. Waking hours are not only ones affected by Rudolph overdose. In a dream, female head of household, transported back to college, is about to fail an advanced biology class she has barely bothered to attend or prepare assignments for. Rumpled nutty professor usually featured in dream replaced by Yukon Cornelius. Wahoo!
What could be more heartwarming than tree trimming? During arranging and rearranging of Christmas décor, Lauren and Maddie are observed lining up collection of nutcracker ornaments, apparently engaged in Yuletide tribal council competing for the title of “mediumest.” Parental units toy briefly with abandoning holiday projects in favor of pitching to CBS; in light of writers’ strike, gaping holes on schedule may leave America ripe for Survivor: Nutcracker Island.
In rare attempt to organize approximately 12 tons of school papers, we are reminded that milestones reached often are cornerstones of moving holiday missive. Next paper to come to hand: Note from Leah’s speech pathologist reading, “She was singing about beer today.” Are Santa’s elves mandated reporters?
According to preschool program, “Christmas is All Around.” We can feel heartwarming thought bubbling up from subconscious at sight of four-year-old class playing Bethlehem townspeople. Child playing Mary, however, appears less than impressed. Slumped slightly in oversized chair, baby sprawled in lap, eyes rolled slightly heavenward, her expression is less saintly serenity than something along lines of, “The Son of God is NOT supposed to have colic!” Surreptitious lightning checks ensue.
Rudolph fever reaches zenith at home as Lauren and Maddie propel reindeer cutouts around living room. Addled parental brains initially fail to register dialogue transpiring between Rudolph and Donner, but then realize four-year-old voices have been lowered to growls to better convey characters’ status as ‘mean’ reindeer. “Sometimes,” proclaim mini-growlers, “we eat people.”
With killer reindeer attack imminent, we are forced, finally, to concede that Hamilton holiday happenings are less heartwarming than idiosyncratic. We give.
Wishing you a unique 2008!
– The Hamilton Family

Funny-back guarantee: If the humor in this year’s installment does not meet expectations, you can view past years’ offerings: 2006, 2005, 2004, 2003, 2002.

You know Dasher and Dancer and Prancer and ... Lauren

It's all Rudolph all the time at our house this month. Here's Lauren's interpretation of the holiday classic. (Note to self: batteries in electronic keyboard will not be particularly missed if removed.)

Actually, you should have gone shopping

Somebody (or rather, somebodies) took the song "All I Want For Christmas Is You" a little too literally.

Christmas Is All Around

That was the title of this year's Community United Methodist preschool Christmas program. Unfortunately, it's also the title of the song Bill Nighy's washed-up rocker sang in Love, Actually. So when it was time for them to sing "Christmas is All Around," all I could think of was Bill's line when his song becomes the Christmas number one: "Not that crap again!"

Which is, of course, exactly the reverence with which all parents should approach their children's public performances.

You know Dasher and Dancer and ... Maddie and Lauren?

Their dance class at Arts N Motion has included festive prancing in reindeer antlers.

Secret Santa?

We have no idea what Maddie was telling Santa, but he looks riveted. Lauren waited with Maddie in line but decided she wanted no part of him when their turn came. (She did deign to accept a goody bag, though.) A few minutes afterward, Maddie suddenly stopped and announced, "We have to go back." When I asked her why, she said, "I forgot to tell him we're going to be in Florida!"