A new passion?

Like her sisters before her, Leah's latest hobby (and a welcome relief from kitchen experimentation) is photography. A noble calling. She grabbed my camera from me at her class Halloween party and began shooting like a crazed paparazzo. Granted, paparazzi shoot a lot more people and fewer close-up shots of pretzels, but the point is, we may have found an occupation for her in which social skills are not only not a requirement, but may be detrimental.

A small sample of her work (she shot an impressive 87 frames in a short period of time):

www.flickr.com

Potty talk

We parents can't help but wonder whether our beloved children will become wiser in the ways of the world after they start kindergarten. If every girl in the class is a raging Hannah Montana fan, will I suddenly be fielding requests to turn it on? Or worse, will I be presented with a Christmas list of items with Miley Cyrus plastered all over them? It's enough to keep a parent awake at night ...

So the other day, when I had all three kids in the car, Lauren and Maddie started giggling about 'potty talk.' I figured I was about to hear a chorus of pee-pees and poops. In my opinion, still preferable to two kids requesting Hannah Montana makeovers, though others might disagree.

But instead of the pee and poop chorus, they kept cackling about potty talk. They were about to start and they were giggling with excitement.

My hand gripped the wheel a little harder. If I'm lucky, I thought, maybe they're about to add some other innocuous word to their lexicon, like doodie or something. I made a mental list of the words I used to put in Mad Libs when I was in fourth grade. Probably the best-case scenario. Worse would be if they were placed in kindergarten with some alumni from Mrs. Ho's Child Care for Troubled Youth in Training and were about to deliver something with four letters and an explanation like, "Joe Bob says it all the time!"

I was checking to see how much of an angry face would show in the rearview mirror when Maddie nominated Lauren to deliver the potty talk. With another giggle or two, Lauren complied:

"I HAVE TO GO TO THE BATHROOM!"

Innocence: Intact. Inherent goofiness: Something they'll be trying to overcome for the rest of their lives.

There's only one team we watch in this house ...

Mike loves it when I pull out that quote from Rudy. Thanks to a friend from our local pool, Lauren and Maddie inherited some excellent spirit wear which might send members of Mike's family on a Longhorn shopping spree at Christmas. Perhaps their cheers are helping, though. One of the rallying cries for the season is, "Our Father, who art in Heaven ... please not another 2007." I am reluctant to jinx it by editorializing, so I'll just say I'm pleased that 2008 will not be worse.

First day of school

We're only running about six weeks behind. I guess that's an improvement.

Despite the apparent grimace, Leah was actually pretty happy to return to Millersville. She just has trouble saying cheese without appearing to growl. They found her missing green fidget during the construction work over the summer, and that was a very happy reunion. She was happier to see green fidget than she usually is to see me.


It felt like Lauren and Maddie were going to be ready for first grade by the time they were finished starting kindergarten. We had orientations, conferences, staggered start days, Labor Day, and on and on. Both are enjoying the fact that their buddies from preschool, Aislinn and Lucas, are in their class this year. Maddie also seems to have befriended most of the boys in the class, and asked me a couple of weeks ago if she can have her new friend Anthony over for a slumber party. It was also interesting to hear that the three major criers during the first week or two were all boys. Apparently one would say,, "Do you miss your mommy?" and that would get them all going. Remember that, anyone who is tempted to call women the weaker sex.

Happy Belated Birthday, part 2

Leah's birthday in July coincided with a really special event. A couple of friends told us about the Wish A Fish foundation, and the fabulous day they had with them last year. In a nutshell, a group of boat owners take families of children with disabilities out for a day of fishing on the Chesapeake. This year's event was on Leah's birthday, and it was every bit as great as promised. Our captain, John, and his friend and neighbor Matt, were easygoing and fun and determined that our family should have a good time. The fishing lasted long enough for the kids to reel a few in -- enough for each of them to get their own fishing citations when we got back to shore -- but it also became clear pretty quickly that there was a limit to their ability to tolerate a rocking boat. No worries -- John and Matt decided we should cruise through the harbor area of Annapolis and up to a nearby lighthouse. Clearly Leah was happy with that decision. She came alive every time the boat picked up speed, and when we entered no-wake zones, she pleaded with John, "Go faster, please!" The foundation had a wonderful picnic waiting for all of us when we returned, which we enjoyed tremendously. By the end, Leah was trying to find another boat that would take her out again, which necessitated a fairly quick departure, lest she try to board one.

As you can see, good times were had:


Later, Leah's favorite present was her Mickey Mouse sleeping bag. She found it very handy when used in conjunction with the remote control.

Announcing ... the Stash

I am dipping my toe into the Fantasy Football waters for the first time. It seemed like a great idea last winter, when I was envisioning all the trash-talking between me, my sister Heather, and all the other friends/extended family they've managed to sucker in. The prospect of actually having to draft a team didn't really enter into the daydreams. Even now the draft is taking a back seat to the most important job: Naming the team. By my calculations, a good chunk of the people in this league are cooler than I am, so the pressure is on. Thankfully, the spousal unit is a former fantasy player, and even though he considers himself above actual participation these days, he was willing to consult on the team name.

So ... drumroll please ... Team Hamilton has been christened Ricky Williams' Stash. (Can you tell we're in Longhorn mode? Season opener is 55 minutes away and counting.)

Why does this merit a blog entry? Primarily because I need a web address to reference for my new team logo. (ESPN won't let me upload it directly.) So here it is:


Go Stash!

Happy Belated Birthday, Part 1

Lauren and Maddie celebrated their fifth birthday in style with a party at Extreme Bounce Zone and a visit from their grandparents. Two months ago. Clearly certain former newspaper employees have forgotten a few things about news value and deadlines.

The celebrations began a little early with a visit from Auntie Julie and Uncle Colin the weekend beforehand. The brand new backpacks spawned a brand new hobby.


Then Lauren decided that she was the greatest gift of all:


And when one twin creates a bandwagon, the other is quick to jump on:


(Uncle Colin is smiling, but inside he may be wondering whether it is actually necessary to visit one's in-laws):

Festivities on the day included the Extreme Bounce party, attended by friends from our neighborhood and their preschool.


(Tire yourselves out. Please.):

They still had enough energy and enthusiasm afterward to tackle their presents. No surprise there.


Modeling M&M shirts given by Auntie Heather and Uncle Kevin while pretending to surf on kickboards received from a party guest:


Scooters from Grammie and Grump were a big favorite:

Summer Catch-Up

At the beginning of every summer, I wonder how we are going to fill the time. Especially with three children who are known to put pants on their heads and audition for Iron Chef when they have free moments. June, July, and August begin to look like a great, yawning void our beloved offspring can easily fill with misadventure.

That hasn't been a problem this year. We've been surprisingly busy, and now we're approaching the last full week of the summer and I've barely had time to look at the pictures we've taken, much less organize or post them anywhere.

So here are a few highlight pictures:

Last day of school (yes, we're that far behind).


Lauren found an old favor from a party Leah attended at Libby Lu a while back and gave herself a makeover.


Lauren and Maddie and Aislinn raced each other in the cul-de-sac in front of Aislinn's house. (I hope some of their neighbors aren't too particular about their lawns.)


Aislinn looks like she's white-knuckling it a little bit. Maybe she regrets letting Maddie take the wheel.


Leah had five baby teeth extracted at the end of July to make room for some permanent ones. It seems she has a small mouth. They don't say that too often about the women in our family. Here she is the evening after, doing her impression of Cletus from The Simpsons.


And here she is modeling her Little Miss Trouble shirt, sent by Grump, who clearly knows his granddaughter well.

Summer exposure to (and by) the arts

Lauren and Maddie have a new hobby: photography. Thanks to digital cameras, what kid would not be drawn to taking pictures? They get instant gratification from the LCD display on the back of our camera. We were given a one-time-use camera not long ago and the girls wondered aloud where the screen was.

In Hamilton fashion, Lauren and Maddie drew their inspiration from an unusual source: the reflective strip on their new backpacks. The monogrammed backpacks were a birthday gift from Auntie Julie and Uncle Colin, intended to generate excitement for kindergarten. Mission accomplished -- generally if a gift comes in their favorite colors and personalized, it is a guaranteed home run.


Uncle Colin -- who has probably stolen the Inspector Gadget nickname from Mike -- was especially excited about the reflective strip on the back of each backpack. Once they saw their picture, Lauren and Maddie were excited about it too, because of the glow they added to the picture. Thus, a hobby was born.

Their early work was a study in reflective strips (these are but two of a series):


Then they decided to expand their horizons to include:

• Indulgent grandparents

• Household pets

• A before and after study on the effects of small children on their parents

• Old boxer shorts

• And, thanks to their pioneering shoot-without-looking technique, a lot of shots of elbows, knees, stomachs, chests, and posteriors that (thanks again to the digital era) are already consigned to the recycle bin and are therefore unavailable for exhibit.
  

Yup, she's a Hamilton

We've started instituting rewards for doing chores, so Maddie earned "Special Time with Daddy." Last night, we went to the pool. On the way back, Maddie wanted to put on her cotton top over her suit but only Lauren's was in the pool bag.

I put it on Maddie and said, "Here, you can pretend to be Lauren. Hi, Lauren!"

First thing Pretend Lauren said: "I'm goofier than Maddie."

At least there are no eggs involved in this one

The Peanuts gang continues to inspire Leah. Thanks to A Boy Named Charlie Brown (in which our hero becomes the school spelling champion before misspelling beagle in the national finals), she can now spell fussbudget and stomach-ache. She also likes to borrow a line or two from America's favorite hard-luck kid.

The other morning I dispensed her usual round of medication and supplement capsules, praising her for quick cooperation and successful swallowing with a high five and a "Good job, Leah."

To which Leah replied (with Peanuts-esque inflection), "I'm a failure."

Hog Heaven

Apparently Leah was worried Miss Piggy was not getting enough to eat:


I assume she got tired of asking nicely. Her usual feeding attempt is to poke Miss Piggy with pieces of hay and exhort her to "Eat it, please!!"

She'll be ready for Kitchen Stadium soon

In theory, it should bode well that an autistic child is interested in the kitchen. All kinds of functional skills are learned there. However, in our daughter's mind, the kitchen is less about life skills than it is a venue for experimentation.

For some time we have had to hide our eggs (thank God for the basement refrigerator) because in a bizarre piece of quasi-performance art, Leah loves to re-enact a favorite scene from It’s the Easter Beagle, Charlie Brown. For those who struggle to recall the plot points -- or those for whom these specials were not appointment television during childhood (positively un-American) -- a running gag is Marcie and Peppermint Patty's futile efforts to color eggs. When I walk in the kitchen, in the second or two it takes me to wonder how a saucepan ended up on the island, I hear Leah's voice telling me, “All the eggs are in, sir.” I look in the pan, count eight or nine yolks bobbing in water, and have to agree that yes, they certainly are. Eggshells litter the sink, and the carton, inexplicably, is in the oven.

Lately Leah has decided to expand her repertoire to sandwiches. Not a bad thing, one might think. Children take sandwiches to school every day. If one can slap some things between a couple of slices of bread and put them on a plate, one has prepared a meal, right?

Leah has other ideas.

One of them is to dispense with the plate altogether. I find her creations on the counter or on the kitchen table, like an edible centerpiece. Mind you, it is actually a relief that she chooses to display them rather than eat them, since her celiac disease precludes her eating ordinary sandwich bread. Early on, I tried to interest her in an actual edible sandwich with bread that will not wreak havoc on her digestive tract, but she quickly taught me that eating is not the main purpose here. Our Leah is driven to create. She seems to start in the direction of peanut butter and jelly, but during sandwich assembly, after she slaps some peanut butter on one of the bread slices, she invariably decides that jelly is just too pedestrian, and substitutes something a little more unique. In recent weeks her special ingredient choices have included:

• Parsley
• Maple syrup
• Dish soap (added after the maple syrup got messy -- intention might have been to clean rather than to make a culinary statement)
  
• Spring onion stalks
• Lettuce
  

If you've watched the original Iron Chef, it may occur to you, as it has to me, that some of these concoctions are well suited for Kitchen Stadium. The Japanese palate, as presented by the chefs and challengers, is very different from that of your typical American couch potato. It's possible that the fortune teller judge or one of the rotating stable of vapid actresses on the panel might say something like, "The texture of the peanut butter beautifully compliments the remaining crunch in the three-week-old iceberg lettuce." Then again, the fortune teller might be motivated to repeat one of my favorite Iron Chef lines of all time: "This tastes like failed soybean curd!" If they ever resurrect the original, look for Leah to take her place alongside Iron Chefs Chinese, Japanese, French, and Italian in the role of Iron Chef Quirky.

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.