Life's a Beach

For the most part, I'm not a big enjoyer of The Beach. This should not be surprising to those who know me nowadays, considering that I am a Very Pale Person. As in, SPF 50+ reapplied constantly. To me, a large, spread-out location with no shade in sight and grainy bits to get into all the food is more of a punishment than a recreation activity.

BUT, in my heart, there is something very nostalgic for me about being at the beach. Until I was five years old, we lived in Israel. Nearly every single day during those years, once my father left for work and my older brothers were off to school, my mother and I would take the bus from our apartment in Givatayim to the beach in Tel Aviv. Sunblocked and hatted, the beach was my daily activity. We would spend the morning there and then hurry home, stopping for a Capri Sun-type drink on the way and getting back before the end of my brothers' short, Israeli school day.

Thankfully, my mother was quite vigilant about my skin even in those years, though I definitely sported a more golden, outdoorsy appearance. I should try to find and scan some pictures from those years. My hair hadn't turned red yet at that age - instead I had two long, blond braids, usually wrapped around my head in a bit of a Scandinavian style. Not a very common look in Israel (this is before the majority of the Russian influx!), and almost hard to believe, considering my own kids and their, shall we say, minimal hair.

Although going to the beach these days is much less fun than it was during those carefree years, I guess that in some ways at my core I am a bit of a beach person. I am also a beach kill-joy, uttering phrases like "Sun Damage!" as extended family and friends show an interest in tanning. And on the rare occasions I'm actually at a beach, I do always feel very, very, very dressed. And definitely not four years old anymore. Sigh.

Until I find some way to reconcile my varied selves regarding the beach, there is a great deal of pleasure in taking the kids to the beach, like I did with my mother and aunt a couple of times last summer.



And when the weather is warming up but not quite there yet, there's always a day at RaggedyBeach. Ann had the terrific idea today that we should dress up for the beach at home. I was thankfully exempt from participating except for as a coordinator. But the little Raggedys got into bathing suits, swim shoes, sun hats, and spread themselves out onto blankets. There was a round of beach tennis and a snack. And no sand in the car.

Our Current Favorite Toy

Until this past Chanukah, we owned a nice amount of MegaBloks, or those jumbo-sized legos. RaggedyDad almost always spends time every weekend with both kids and these blocks. When we first got them a couple of years ago, RaggedyAnn was big enough to understand and enjoy the concept.

Once Andy started getting around, the main activity was for RD and Ann (3 1/2) to build something before Andy could destroy it. Now that Andy's a little bigger (14 months), he has started adding on pieces to their creations as well. He enjoys walking around and searching for the right spot, and calling it "tatta" before plopping on another block.

Watching them play with this toy for big stretches of time is great. It's not a messy toy, nor is it a noisy toy. The only noisy thing is the occasional "crash" of a tower, usually followed by Andy saying "tatta" or more recently "uh-oh".

When RD and I were discussing what might make for a good, unannoying Chanukah present this year, he suggested "more MegaBloks!" mainly because he wants more MegaBloks. My husband actually enjoys these things all on his own once the kids are asleep. Shhh, don't tell him I said that! He gives long-winded explanations about the structure, style, and durability of his creations. He studies other people's "building styles" and gives suggestions for making their MegaBloks towers earthquake proof. No, I'm not kidding.

When I was in Babies R Us, that bastion of combining diaper sales with diaper coupons, they had 80-count bags of said MegaBloks on sale for less than the 70-count bags. I think they came to about $10 and change each. So, two sacks full of MegaBloks made their way surreptitiously into my bedroom closet and remained there until Chanukah. Eventually all of the MegaBloks were combined into one giant comforter bag.

Here's the latest Raggedy creation that uses nearly every MegaBlok we own.

Local Heroes

Today I had the pleasure of accompanying RaggedyAnn's class to the local fire station. Since I'm usually available during the day, I like to come along on class trips when I can. I was even lucky enough to be able to leave Andy with my mom for the hour, instead of bringing him along like I'd anticipated. He's a little young for anything but being shlepped around and held by Mommy the whole time, so leaving him at Grandma's house made it a little easier.

When the kids arrived on the van, the firefighters actually had to go on a "call," so the class waited on the van and munched some cookies until the other fire truck returned. When one of the firefighters asked me if the kids were allowed to have some cookies baked by a firefighter's wife, and I had to say that they couldn't (kashrus), it helped that I told him they'd also had treats while waiting for the truck to return.



What is it about firefighters that just makes me so grateful and so proud at the same time? Every time I tried to talk to these men, I got kind of choked up. There's something so humbling about seeing the inside of the firehouse, all of the gear and equipment lined up, the chalkboards and the trucks. I'd never been inside a firehouse before today, so this was as exciting for me as it was for the kids.

For most of our brief visit, I was helping to snap pictures, holding Ann's hand, reassuring the kids who inexplicably started bawling (mostly boys, I might add!), and making sure nobody stepped in any oily truck reside puddles. I did mention to several of the firefighters that I give them a lot of credit for their willingness to open the firehouse up to the kids and talk to them about fire safety.

Since I wasn't able to express my real gratitude to these men in person, I thought of mailing a thank you card including a picture of the guys and the class, and telling them how much we appreciated not only the visit, but all that they do every day. What do you think?

Chocolate Phraseology

I think I may have just coined a new phrase.

Snacktivity: (snak-'ti-vi-tee) A snack that also involves an activity.

RaggedyAnn is not a junk food kind of kid (I know: Thank you, G-d). Therefore, the small stash of chocolate Chanukah coins she received held little appeal after she tasted one and felt compelled to spit it out into my hand. (Why does she still do this at three-and-a-half years old? Is it too late to institute a "No spitting out food into anything but a napkin rule?).

Ann decided that since she doesn't like the coins, and Andy is a little young for me to let him experiment with chocolate, that gateway drug to candy . . . RaggedyDad and I should eat her coins for her. No problem, Ann. I settled down with a cup of coffee and the coins, and it struck me that these things are all the more enjoyable because of the effort involved in first peeling off the gold wrapper. This part was always tricky for me growing up, since I'm a recovering nail-biter. It was difficult to actually get to the chocolate with minimal melting and smashing while I really struggled to get the peel off altogether.

Of course, now that I have, for the most part, left this nasty habit behind (how anyone could change poop diapers on a regular basis and maintain a full nail-biting schedule is beyond me), it's far easier to sit back and enjoy this little snacktivity once in a while.

Lastly, I'm not sure why I get such a kick out of this, but I think it's hilarious.

**Update** Upon further research, it has become evident that I did not, in fact, originate this term, although I think my usage differs somewhat from the example given on Urban Dictionary. And once the Canadians are in on something, it's pretty much last year's news. Alas. I'm going to need some more chocolate coins to get over this.

Play-Doh

There's something about Play-Doh that takes me back to being five years old. The texture, the smell, the cute little Play-Doh tools . . everything about Play-Doh is very sentimental.

RaggedyAnn enjoys playing with Play-Doh, and it's the perfect activity for when there's not much to do but avoid stores and public places on this most hectic of calendar dates.

The downside of Play-Doh is, of course, the way it will stick to and ruin carpeting, clothing if it gets entrenched in the fabric. We have a Play-Doh rule that involves laying out wax paper on the table and playing only on the wax paper. I also am a big stickler for one color of Play-Doh at a time. Lastly, any Play-Doh crumbs that land on the rug (we do live upstairs, and have to carpet the majority of our floor) are summarily picked up or cleaned up. And a little carpet cleaner never hurt anyone either.

You may already be a winner!

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Originally uploaded by momraggedy.

I know everyone says this, but we really never win anything. Ever. So imagine my surprise when we were chosen to be inflicted with, I mean blessed with this toy for "research purposes" (haha) by the Kids2 company. Apparently, I responded to an email survey (why, oh why?) and Andy fits the criteria in terms of age and weight for this exersaucer type toy.

I never owned one of these with Ann, and frankly, feel that they are expensive (this one retails for about $80!) and take up way too much space, which we don't have a ton of in our apartment. Ann was a very calm child who almost never tried to get into the sort of exploring-mischief-making of which her brother has proven himself to be so fond. He's very, very different than she is. As in, "Quick, run and close the bathroom door before Andy goes and swishes his hand around in the toilet bowl!" I know, I know, wait until he learns how to open that door!

Although at a year, and getting ready to walk any week now, Andy is really at the upper end of the age limit for this thing, I figured it was worth a try and it might be a great way to, shall we say contain him, for the five minutes necessary to prepare his food, use the bathroom, etc. We had been putting him in the Pack n Play used as a playpen, but I was eager to try something else.

Of course, Andy haaaates this contraption. He stiffens his legs so that it's really hard to get him into it, and once he's in it, he flips his torso manically. He just does not like to be contained, like most kids I suppose. Swishing around in the toilet is a lot more fun. Ann, on the other hand, although she is over 3 years old, weighs about a pound and a half over the weight limit of this thing. She's too tall to bounce in it, but she stands up. As luck would have it, my preschool child thinks this toy is a blast. The irony . . . ! Maybe I can ask her preschool teachers if they can take Andy from 9-2.

As RaggedyDad told me, there is a saying in Russian that for free, even vinegar is sweet. Enjoy the vinegar, kids!