My five-year-old triplets will probably never leave our house again. Ever. They will become recluses, they will let their hair and toenails grow untended, they will never know the warmth of the sun on their skin again. It’s pretty much guaranteed. Why? Because of DOGS.
Today, a white pit bull in a fuzzy blue dog sweater chased them from the corner of our street, past two neighbor houses, and into our garage. There, my three sons continued the bloodcurdling shrieks as they scaled lawnmowers and shop-vacs to reach anti-dog positions on top of our large plastic trash cans. Those were not, however, anti-shriek positions. A neighbor across the street heard the unceasing screams of terror and rushed out of his house as I madly Read More…
What was that I said about cosmic retaliation? Good grief, that’s the last time I joke about that. Did you see the hail pounding San Diego today? What happened to our 74 degree winter? All week we’ve been hit by a succession of storms that alternated wind, driving rain, hail, sprinkles, sun, and then the whole list again, over and over, in ten- to twenty-minute intervals. Today, my three five-year-old boys and I weren’t able to duck out between rain intervals to run off energy at the park as in previous days, and as a result my almighty “I am Queen Serene” attitude was put to serious test. 
I’m not sure, and there’s no way to confirm my suspicion, but I have this strange feeling that Pollyanna has taken up residence in my body. And even stranger still, I like being possessed. By her, anyway.
Moving on from 
A friend in England turned us on to geocaching last year. That’s where you take a GPS and march out into the middle of nowhere to find treasure caches filled with goodies by other geocachers. It’s a fun way to spice up hiking, and it gets kids excited about what might otherwise be viewed as one long trudge by cruel, torturous parents who know nothing of what kids actually like to do. 
80% of adolescents report being bullied during their school years. Eighty out of one hundred kids. It’s shocking. And it’s the reason I know about Joe Wocjik. 
How do you take your larvae? With a little vinegar and salt? Perhaps some sour cream & onion? Maybe a mesquite grilled BBQ, with a lovely fruitwood piquant, is the key to your insect enjoyment? The Halverson boys are more simple, preferring their larvae amply coated with cheddar cheese powder, with a chaser of bacon & cheese-flavored crickets. Ah, now that’s a snack!
We saved a dog’s life yesterday. It wasn’t how we intended our afternoon to go. I’d meticulously mapped out the day to put us at our friend Randy’s house at 2pm for a fabulous “play date” of trains and legos (the man is a lego and train fanatic, a whoppin’ combo for three five-year-old boys), and then back at home by 3:30 to ride the new bikes with Daddy, something all the Halverson men have been craving since the boys got their birthday bikes on Tuesday. My husband is a cyclist, and the fact that he had to go to work each day while I took the boys to the park to ride bikes has been killing him. So the bike riding session was highly anticipated by all.
My trio turned five years old on Tuesday. To celebrate, we took our extraordinary boys to Extraordinary Desserts and let the boys each pick out their own extraordinary birthday cakes. As yummy as that was, though, the highlight of their day, hands down, was getting bikes. (With training wheels, of course.)
Twice in two minutes tonight my jaw dropped open. Yeah, I know, jaw-dropping is hugely cliche, but it really happened—twice—and it was a reaction from the heart: I was completely astounded. Let’s see what your reaction is to the things that people can create.
My three boys’ fascination with things that go bump in the night continues. Ironically, their latest experimentations with SPOOKY involved a discussion of the phrase “Things that go bump in the night.” It was in a Geronimo Stilton book, and they are absolutely obsessed with Geronimo Stilton books. Now honestly, how in the world do you explain that phrase to four-year-olds without planting the seed that they should be afraid of noises they hear at night? Oy, my life is one big slippery slope.
Wow, 2009 flew by, didn’t it? But I have to say, it was certainly kind to my family: seven more adventure-filled months in Europe, a joyful return to our home in San Diego, and thriving almost-five-year-old boys who embrace adventure with both arms. Our