We Didn't Start The Fire

I have absolutely no tangible idea of what it’s really like to hear “President Kennedy is dead.” Or even whenI hear search engines love images with stories. Lennon was murdered. How about Pearl Harbor? Nope.

World War? Nazis? Not having microwaves?

Phones with cords though? Yes.

Conner, 6 years old next month, has picked up a bit of the news about the death of Osama bin Laden, but knows basically this “a bad guy is dead.” As he grows, he will learn the textbook version of this (on top of the basics he’s absorbed from me and those around him) and commit it to memory like I have done to Pearl Harbor, the assassination of Dr. Martin Luther King, and life prior to microwaves.

As he matures, he will begin to understand the human element of tragedy. The loss, the suffering, his own version of what it might have felt like. Most of this, as a way of life, will come from his personal experiences.

Conner, Chase and the generations worth of children around them will never be able to feel exactly what September 11th was like, wars in the Middle East (well, these wars), The utter destruction by certain storms (each different in it’s identity, outcome, appearance and those experiencing it), and what mom was really like in her mid-20s (don’t you dare say upper).

These children will not know of Osama bin Laden as we do. But one day, they might be empathetic to what he was a part of. I’m glad there’s this buffer between our generations though. I’m going to need a good story or two in 22-25+ years.

Oh. And:

You are welcome.

"I taking pictures, momma!"

The picture below gives the illusion that my children are spending a semi-sunny, yet moderately humid, afternoon playing with their die-cast Cars set.

From

But if you look more closely, you’ll see that it’s actually two “photographers” taking pictures of an “accident”.

(Tragically, when I first noticed this, only the green car was upside down, but in the mere seconds between this initial observation and the obtainment of my camera, it became a multiple car incident.)

(It is not known if there are any injuries resulting from this accident at this time.)

“Picture! Picture! Picture!”

Chase has the first reporters on the scene.

For a few months now, Chase has been quite interested in taking pictures. He smiles more for the camera, asks for things to be in a shot - I’ve even found him doing his own little version of “styling” a shot (turning a car one way, then turning it another).

Although I’m NOT a photographer (not in the least), Chase knows that I do enjoy taking pictures and have done so to go along with my posts and stories for basically all of his life.

You might recall about a year ago when Conner showed the same interest, even taking one of my stock photos (I have my own set of stock photos that I frequently contribute to. It’s cheaper than a stock photo service!):

From

and this one:

From

It’s fun to me that I may have sparked some interest in photography by simply taking part in it myself. Makes me wonder what else I can inspire them to do.

On B-Metro This Week - Preparing for Christmas Eve Without My Boys

On B-Metro this week, I talk about how I will be without my boys on Christmas Eve:

I think I’ve finally figured out my favorite part of Christmas, and it’s no surprise that I’ve done this now. Now, that is, that I won’t have my boys on Christmas. As the days grow closer and closer to waking that morning without them, I realize it’s never been the gifts, the decorations, the food (although, that is kinda close) or the magic - it’s the heart.

The season, of course, is also about giving. We give each other presents, cards, headaches, facebook statuses galore and parties. We dress in tacky sweaters, a tradition I think should be as standard as an advent calendar (the sweaters are, however, a true representation of how innocent Christmas is in comparison to the whorefest that is Halloween costumes). Stuffing ourselves with pies and hams and casseroles is second nature.

Read the rest after the jump.

Warning: Marker Is Contagious

There’s nothing more classic than a case of the Not Wanting To Go To Schools. But when it’s a permanent-marker-weilding 5-year-old and he’s in 4k, your reason for concern is valid.

Insert Conner, a red sharpie and some degree of me not paying attention to his quietness. I begin to search with him after a certain amount of sanity (which = him being quiet), when I stumbled upon something spotted. Something that looked like this:

Red was a smart choice considering his goal…Yeah.

So I inquire, naturally, why on earth he would put red dots all over his body. “I have chicken pots”, he replies. Then, he asks if I will check his “feber”. Surprisingly, he had no “febers”.

Something tells me this won’t work in high school either. 

Edited to Add: I should have likely noted he did this to his brother too. Defendant’s case? “I wanted us to stay home from my school and go to the new school together”. Case dismissed!

Disney Whaaa

Disney World - Orlando, Fl - This was almost the setting of my demise. I can just see it now “Montgomery Local and Crappy Blogger impales self, face first, onto Cinderella’s Many Spires”. For the record, the most disturbing part of that for me is that my blogging IS currently crappy. We all have standards.

Getting up at 4 AM? Pssh. I’ve done worse. Airport by 7? Flight? Nope. Those didn’t phase me. But by 3 PM, standing semi-lost in EPCOT admist a failed Disney Dream (which is exactly what EPCOT is), 2 cranky kids, a cranky mother and a cranky step-dad and I was ready to walk home.

Needless to say, I don’t suggest just throwing yourselves into the parks on hour 8. Even after the $53 umbrella stroller purchase (bring your own damn umbrella stroller), I was really pondering whether this whole “magic” thing meant I had to eat the mushrooms.

Then, food came and the boys met Mickey (and Minnie, Donald, Goofy, Pluto, etc). The meal was great and both kids lit up. Ok, ok. Sigh. Maybe I couldn’t give up just yet.

They slept like rocks - beautiful, partially coma’d rocks. 

We spent the next day “by the book” in Magic Kingdom. Hopping from ride-to-attraction-to-ride, the magic began to set in. And, much to my surprise, I was actually sober and experiencing this (mushrooms not needed). Conner had entered some parallel universe. Chase thought the monorail was his life’s calling. To each their own.

And we ate, and walked, and became sore, and ate more, and walked a lot more, and enjoyed every ride we possibly could at the Magic Kingdom.

Then we did that for 2 more days - meeting charatcers, spending time with one another, riding rides (some many times). Conner rode his first “big people” roller coaster, laughed his way through the Haunted Mansion, hurled down Splash Mountain and held his own. I’m so proud. : )

Chase… Chase loved the monorail.

Did I mention that? He kept memorizing which train we were on, wanted to know which was next, pointed out when a new color would pass, etc. He did, for the record, have a ball too.

Back in reality we are - where castles aren’t dripping in lights, 6-foot-tall mice don’t lurk around corners, and it takes a lot more effort to make my boys practically glow from excitement.

But then - there’s Christmas.