Oh My, Valentines!

Okay, so my Aunt Peggy's scored big on the boys' list. Big-big-BIG. A small package with big punch arrived late last week, and the boys opened it to find everything their little hearts could desire: candies, talking-giggling Valentine's Day cards, and... POKÉMON CARDS! It was a very happy end to an otherwise grey day.

BIG THANKS to Aunt Peggy from the boys! What a great surprise!

The pictures from the past few weeks haven't turned out so well, but above are a couple from that evening. (Leo was not happy that he was covered a bit in the last one, but it was the last on the memory card, and I think it's funny, so...) They spent the whole evening "playing" Pokécards. I was laid out on the couch with the stomach flu, so they brought the game over to me, and explained their take on all of the new cards. It was a lot of silly-happy-little-boy fun.

On the actual Day, we all woke up at pretty much the same time. The boys came in to wake us up, and did some silly-happy-little-boy moves on, over and under our covers and legs and torsos and so on. Until suddenly: up jumped Jean-Philippe, and trailed the little ones behind him. A few minutes later, I galumped up, myself, and followed them into the kitchen, the scent of freshly brewing coffee leading the way. It took me a drowsy minute to get it, but when I did, I saw that the house had been covered in Post-It notes. A home-sized Valentines Day card!

That wasn't the end of the celebrations, though! A big, afternoon-long lunch had been planned with the family to celebrate Pépé's 70-something-st birthday. The big 'uns ate and drank too well, as always. And the cousins showed off silly-happy-little-kid-tricks to one another and glued themselves to cartoons, not really showing themselves at the dinner table until somebody mentioned "cake"... ho! ho! Needless to say, we rolled our way home afterwards...

We Sick

The boys, several days ago, in the midst of several artistic and otherwise ventures. Leo wrote 'Tomi' with the blocks, and Tomi said, "Thank you, Leo! That's so cool! I like the way you did that!"

It's been a rough week. First my computer went down, thanks to a download that went awry. Then I got the stomach flu. Then Leo got the stomach flu. And my flu persists, despite yesterday's optimism about the subject. And I think Tomi's coming down with it, too. But he seemed alright this morning. So he's at school; Leo's in bed (after having watched Jungle Emperor and Over the Hedge); I'm huddled over my work with cramps and worry; and Jean-Philippe's peddling my theatre ticket off to friends and hoping for the best. Ugh.

There have been some bright spots on this greyish day, though.

First, there was sleepy little Leo's wake-up twittering.

"Mom! Wake up! Then we can be the first ones up, after Daddy! I'm the first one up! I'm never the first one up!"

Then there was our sweet little Tomi's chirruping, as he got ready to go to school. He was extra chirrupy today. And chirrupy on a school day is rare enough; but when one of them knows that the OTHER is going to stay home from school?! Never. Until this morning, that is.

And then, as Leo sat out a bout of you-know-what on the toilet, I suggested I read him a book.

Leo "No, I have lots of stories. I will tell you a story!"

Mom (settling down on the bathroom floor) "Great! I love your stories!"

Leo "Hm. Let's see. There are so many! Which one would you like?"

Mom "How about if you choose?"

Leo "Okay, I will tell you the story about the snowball who went to the sea."

Mom "Great!"

Leo "Uhm... Okay, but there are some 'bad words' in the story."

Mom (raising her eyebrows a bit, and not a little intrigued) "Well... If they're a part of the story, you can tell the story anyway, and we'll talk about the bad word parts afterwards."

Leo "... No, I will tell you another story. There are lots of stories without bad words. How about... The Mouth Who Couldn't Find Its Body?"

Mom "Sounds like a great one!"

Leo "Okay, but how about if you tell it?"

Mom "Alright. But you can help me, okay?"

Leo "Okay."

And so we began. And a pretty good story we came up with, too!

Bubbles & Weenies

Tomi & Leo, preparing for a walk - Wormy has been lost again, so Goo-Goo and Ennen Cat have been extra-cuddled of late...

Even on the tired days of falling eyelids and fizzling nerves, all it takes these days is a giggled phrase or a soft, caring look and a wee hand on the shoulder from one of our boys to take away the sting of the day and send us into la-la land. They bubble, they glow, they let us know every day, in one way or another, that we couldn't have done without them.

The other day, for example:
It was a cold, grey Sunday. But the four of us were utterly content all day, separately and together, doing this and that and the other thing. Mid-afternoon, Jean-Philippe and the boys were bundling up to go outside and kick the ball around. I was zipping up Tomi's jacket, when Leo zoomed by, crying out, "I'M THE PEE-PEE! GOING SO FAST! WHO'S ON MY TEAM?!" Tomi laughed and said, "I'm the caca*! Go-ing-rea-lly-slo-o-ow!" But there was still the question of teams. We all changed teams several times before the family's male contingent got out the door. There was a brief moment of genial ganging up. I think I ended up being on Leo's pee-pee team, though. Not that he noticed. He was too busy zooming out the door and down the steps to the makeshift soccer field, below. I could hear them screeching with delight for the next hour or so, as the bread baked and was brought out, and the Leftovers Soup bubbled away...

p.s. The day was brought to a lovely close with the impromptu visit of a couple of friends, followed by a not-so-good concert (Of Montreal) and a friendly debate (with the friends who weren't enjoying it, and followed me out to the bar for some fresh air - heh! heh!), concerning what, exactly, it was that we didn't like about it.

* caca = poop

A Disasters Emergency Committee (DEC) Appeal

For those of you living in the United States, I know that it is hard to get past the religiously-saturated political quagmire, and in fact much easier to avoid the subject of the conflict in Gaza altogether. I hope that you will watch this appeal, though, and give the conflict some thought from another angle or two...

Waking Up, Smelling the Coffee

fyi - pictures have nothing to do with the text

We woke up on Inauguration Day to the usual radio voices. Or rather, we were waking up to them, when I heard a voice chirrup from the boys' room, "They said, 'Barack Obama!'" and then, "They said, 'Barack Obama' again!" and then, "Oh! They said it again!" And then another wee voice piped up, "Why-y-y?" And the first one answered, "Because he's The Good Guy!"

Later that evening (Washington, DC time + 6 hours), we settled into the couch with apples and oranges and lots of blankets, and I pleaded with the boys to keep their questions to a minimum and low-pitched until the end, so's I could hear the voices on the TV. They complied the best they could. And they spontaneously held my hands and cuddled close. At one point, one boy raised his hand. I called on him, and he leaned in and whispered, "Mommy?! They're talking at the same time as Barack Obama! I can't hear him!" The translator's wishy-washy, loud job was bothering him, too! ha! ha! (continued below...)

smoking at the diner - thanks, Disney

(continued from above...) Then the other boy stood up and said, "Can you pause it? I have to pee-pee!" My boys aren't used to watching TV (though they do watch movies, and with gusto). Later, when a visibly moved Bernard Kouchner spoke about his impressions of the day's events, the boys asked, "Can he see us?" At first I was a bit flummoxed, but then I realised that they've only really ever watched stories, and not actual events or people answering questions from off-screen. It was funny; made me think of the scene in O Sullivan's Twenty Years A-Growing, when he's arrived in Dublin, and his friend takes him to the pictures. (Oh my gosh. I just found it on the internet. If you're interested, click here.)

But back to Washington, DC and Strasbourg, France, on the 20th of January, 2009. The boys and their mom are still in front of the TV, watching an extraordinary, historical moment unfold before their eyes. And at the end, when the Obamas and Bidens were standing on the tarmac and waving, one boy knit his brow and held up his palms, asking, " "Why are they waving?" I explained. He asked, "Why are they doing that for so long? They can go now! The other guy, he's a BAD GUY! [And] he's GONE!" I had to cede the point. But was forced to explain the idea of decorum, nonetheless.

I am so relieved. But still, of course, anxious to see how things pan out... Eek!

Happiness, Health and a Warm Hearth

All of the above to all of you from all of us -- though if you're living somewhere warm, we wish you a variation on the theme; say... an Iced Drink?

We rang in the newest year high up in the Vosges with our beloved parents/grandparents/parents-in-law, seeing the old year out with a hike into the heights and the snow; a round of Riesling and pie wedges in a chalet way up thar (not pictured below); a walk back down through the mountain's layers of snowflakes, then snowdrops, then rolling fog; a well-earned return to the warmth of the farmstead; a light and luscious meal; a dance to the lively music the radio's classical station offered us up, and which Tomi inspired us all to take up on; the crémants we'd got at the organic winemaker's in Andlau the day before; and (also not pictured below) a bouquet of fireworks as the fog closed in at midnight, turning the last page of another year's chapter in our lives.

Here are a few images from the above-described last day of the year:

"It's Our Happy Birthday!"

Okay, so I'm cheating, and the date posted is not the date posted. But (as you may have gathered from the lack of information on these pages) things haven't slowed down 'round here. In many ways, they've most definately sped up. The only thing that's stayed the same is the march of time. It seems that whether or not I agree with the speed it travels, it keeps marching steadily on. Which brings me to the point, which is:

And Now They Are Five


And what brilliant, witty, beautiful little whippersnappers they have become in these past five years. If I had the time to make a list of proofs to back up my assertions, I would. But I don't even have the time to blog about it all from time to time, so... I'm sorry, but you'll just have to believe me.

Here they are on their last day as 4-year-olds, crossing off the 27th on the countdown calendar their papa made for them, after countless questions and conversations about how long it was until their "Happy Birthday". It was hilariously cute to watch them get so into this. They tried cheating! (she shakes her head)


Here is my utterly ingenious invention, in order that Jean-Philippe be able to carry six carrot cake-breads (we had to feed 55!) with frosting to school - and get them there in relatively good shape. Grabbed the boxes from the organic store around the corner, and we were set! The box without handles fit snugly in over the deeper one, which did have handles. No trouble with slipping, sliding, balance or smushing! I won't even begin to tell you about the day I spent baking... Okay, no: I will. It started with pumpkin muffins. But 24 muffins took 4 hours. And NONE OF THEM ROSE more than a centimetre or so. Ugh. So carrot cake-bread it was. Eight in four hours. And they don't look like much (especially since six of them also refused to rise, and since I realised at 10pm that we didn't have enough powdered sugar for a proper topping...), but they were delicious! Unfortunately, I start work early on Friday, so I couldn't help with the delivery. But hey! I think I did more than my share, don't you? Heh! heh!


So. Since I am the unofficial family photographer, and since I'm like a lot of bloggers, and find it much easier to post pictures of those around me than those of myself, there are relatively few photographs of me in existence in our collection or even on our blog. The other day, though, I had to make myself an i.d. photo. So I monkeyed around with the camera for a while, trying to get something worthwhile. The next day was the boys' birthday, and by some twist of thought that started with the monkey business, I decided to start a tradition for them by which I would get a morning and an evening picture of each of their parents on or around their birthday each year. I hope they appreciate this. It was fun, but I'm not sure how happy I'll be in twenty years to see the change that has inexorably come over us. Anyway, here's me - their mom - early in the morning and later in the evening of the 28th November 2008 (and that's my beloved mug):


It was a whirlwind birthday weekend, what with work-as-unusual (as in, more than usual), combined with the school cakes to prepare; a dinner on B-Day with their mémé & pépé; the Pirates and Mermaids birthday party with school buddies on Saturday (what a blast!); a school buddy's birthday party on Sunday morning (?!); followed by a long afternoon-into-the-evening with good friends, two of whom announced that they are getting married next August! We were so tired on Monday morning (happily, but still...!) that when the alarm went off, we parents both simply integrated it into our dreams and got another forty minutes' sleep. Gulp! It wasn't the best way to start a school day... (But it was well worth it!)

A Most Incredible Moment

We tried to pull an all-nighter, but I lost the battle with my eyelids at around 3am (Chicago time + 7).

At 7:40 the radio woke us up, blaring the news: "BARACK OBAMA, 44ème PRÉSIDENT DES ÉTATS-UNIS!"

My eyes filled with tears of joy, relief, hope - they keep filling, again and again.

And talk about a moving speech. When I caught a glimpse of the Rev Jesse Jackson's tearful gaze, I nearly burst into sobs.

The end of one of the worst errors in recent American history is finally at hand, and we can - finally - start the massive work of repairing the damage done over the past eight years (and then some, since alot of the damage was given its start well before the worst of it).

Of note:
Fellow blogger Betsy and I both noticed a telling detail in the course of the speeches given by the two candidates last night. When McCain mentioned Obama, booing followed; whereas when Obama mentioned McCain, there was clapping. I'm sure at least 53% of you will draw the same conclusions that we did.

Circus Boys' Dreams

Above are our Circus Boys, on their last day of circus classes. Tomi in particular had been dreaming of joining the circus ever since his first sighting of nouveau cirque. There are five vacation cycles in France, starting with ten days around All Saints Day, so we filled the first week with a circus initiation for 5-7 year olds which was brilliant (and which had a secondary effect of conking three of the four of us out at hours which this family has never before seen). By the way, Tomi is walking backwards on the low beam, there. Funny, the things we take for granted when we're older. It was really touching to watch them all "try, try, try, and try it again" - and also stunning to watch them come up with some of their ideas, when they were working in groups or pairs. Kids are absolutely amazing.

Ah, and speaking of boys and dreams:

Ours began understanding the difference between dreams and reality a bit later than some, from the stories we've heard tell. But recently, they've been really into their dreams, and telling us about them. Sometimes, I suspect that they're telling us what they would have dreamed of, if they'd have had the choice. The other morning, though, I swished into their room just as Tomi woke up with a giggly laugh, saying, "Mmmm!" and then, as he came to, he mumbled, happily, "I was dreaming of chocolate!" There was a satisfied pause, and then, from the other bed, a happy little voice chirruped, "C'était quoi comme chocolat?! (What kind of chocolate was it?!)" and when Tomi didn't answer immediately, Leo said, "It was with milk in it? An' nuts?" Tomi never really did answer the question, nor did he have the time, because the idea of hot chocolate had already taken ahold of him, with the mention of a milk & chocolate combination. Suddenly, two little chocolate hounds were sprinting for the kitchen...

And then, this morning, I was in the bathroom when I heard the boys' door slowly creak open. I looked around the corner and saw a half-sleeping little Tomi, peeking out and saying, "Papa? Tu es là? Parce que je t'aime (Papa? Are you there? Because I love you)." I think he thought I was his daddy, so I said, softly, "Papa's in bed. You can go tell him..." He hugged me and whispered, "I dreamed of Daddy, and I wanted to tell him I love him." But by then, he was waking out of his dream-state, and got entangled in embarrassment, and never got around to telling his papa about it.

A Cartoon Lightbulb

Leo is sick, so he got to stay home today. As he was lounging in bed and his brother and papa were getting ready to head off to school, I started to explain to him how the day was going to proceed, starting with the fact that I was going to take a bath and wash my hair. This is the conversation that followed...

Leo: Why do you have to wash your hair?

Mom: Because it's dirty.

Leo: Why is it dirty?

Mom: (explains as best she can)

Leo: Why don't I have to wash my hair?

Mom: Because yours isn't dirty.

Leo: Why?

Mom: Well, little kids' hair doesn't get dirty as quickly as adults' hair does.

Leo: Why?

Mom: Good question. Yet another that I'll have to look up, later. In any case, your hair doesn't get dirty as quickly as mine does. You can wash yours less often than I do.

Leo: What is "less often"?

Mom: "Not as often"? ..."Not so much"? ..."Not as many times"? ..."A little bit - not alot"? For instance: you can do something alot, or just a little bit; you can do something often, or you can do it less often.

Leo: AH! (laughs with understanding and holds up one hand) "Ro-o-ock!... (holds up the other hand) Tree-ee-ee!..."

Those of you who have never watched The Iron Giant (1) should watch it and (2) may not get what just happened. What was really cool/funny was that Leo was clearly understanding that I was giving him an on-the-one-hand-versus-on-the-other-hand definition, and was delighted to have understood. And when the lightbulb flashed on, he immediately made the connection with the scene from The Iron Giant in which Hogarth is giving the giant his first English lesson. (Here is a page with some transcripts from the film, including this one, second from the last. The last one is actually the scene which taught the boys their first taunting/insulting phrase - another funny chapter in our family's book, which included yet another cool cartoon lightbulb.)

Blowing Kisses

My dear, dear Gramma (a.k.a, the boys' dear, dear Great-Gramma) celebrates her 88th year as a spring chicken today!

We on this side of the Atlantic wish you a very happy one, Gram - and I add my thanks (many times over) for the 39 of those years during which you've been my Gramma. xoxo

p.s. I start every day with thoughts of you as I sip my hot coffee (though admittedly not as hot as you'd like it!) in my favourite mug - the green-grey loon mug that you gave me to replace the even loonier one that was broken in our first household-with-kids accident, several years ago. Since it's addition to our household, I've only extremely rarely drunk from another. More thanks for the mug, and for its attendant daily thoughts.

The pictures are from our trip to Como Park this summer. The best part, according to everybody who was there, was our ride at the end of the day on the beautifully restored merry-go-round, which Gramma remembers riding as a child. Tomi was adamant that his great-gramma ride one of the chariots with him, and held her hand tightly the whole way. The rest of us charged ahead, atop the steeds that carried them along, so to speak. A lovely end to a lovely day.

Good Times, Gain, Losing It & Loss

(1) the casting of a most important vote* (2) the castaways at work together on their cushion raft (3) and the find of the weekend: four antique Louis-something chairs, for a song, one with the 'cast' for the cushions I'm going to make in order to prolong the life of their caning.

It was a very busy, very good weekend, filled with friends, old and new, and some quiet times so lovely that they took my breath away. It ended weirdly, spectacularly, with a bout of gastrointestinitis that made itself known to Tomi and the rest of us in the group as we waited for the train in Rosheim. Luckily, I had hurriedly stashed a pair of underwear and two plastic bags in with the rest of the junk in the backpack before we left. Even more luckily, our friend Alain had some wipeys, also for 'just in case.' And then, the weather was not only on our side, but brilliant. So the little sicky on his mother's lap in the train, wearing only a sweatshirt and undies (even the shoes and socks had to be bagged up!) wasn't too uncomfortable, after all. His mommy (ahem!) was wearing about 25 kilos of pumpkins and pumpkin beer on her back and 18 kilos of sick boy on her front, though, so she is still hurting from the exprience.**

And here is an article that went straight to my heart and head on several different levels. The compassion and caring for humanity that the various members of this family have shown - starting with their son and brother, Tom - is immense and uplifting; the thoughts and feelings shared, concerning loss and grief, are extremely well put; and the political parts are not only clear and concise, but serve to illustrate and as food for thought for so many other situations, political and otherwise.

* Please excuse the 'do.' The picture was taken before the bath was.

** His daddy can't do this any longer, because of a work-related back injury that would be all the more horrible if it were given any cause to flame back up.

A Pick from Last June

I just realised that I had a good example of the boys' prowess scanned from last June. We had stopped by their mémé & pépé's place on the way out for tartes flambées, and pépé put a cartoon channel on for the boys. Crypton immediately caught all of their attention, making it hard to get back out and to our tartes and so on. But the up side of that part of the adventure was the drawings that the boys came up with later, while the adults chatted away over tartes and brews on the restaurant's terrace. These were the first things Leo came up with:


I have to admit that I'm feeling humbled by what is unfolding before my very eyes. And thrilled, too!

Another Few From the Peanut Gallery

Our boys are difficult to pull away from their "workspace" in the corner of the living room. And their teachers tell us that things are the same at school. There is so much being produced that we honestly can't keep track of it all. I'm trying to devise ways, but the work piles up faster than I can tag and file it away, or send it to those for whom it was made, or simply get it up on their art string (just above their workspace).

The pieces above and below are among the squillions of things that made me laugh or brought a tear of parental sentimentality or pride or both in the past couple of days, plus the birthday card Tomi spontaneously made for me, after their daddy told the boys that the next day was my birthday, and so on. There was a funny moment at the beginning of the conversation, when Jean-Philippe said, "Demain, c'est l'anniversaire de..."* and Leo yelped, "De NOUS!" When JPhi said, "Non, de maman!" Leo's face crumpled and he wailed, "NO-o-o-o-o-o-o-ON!" Within a minute or two, though, the boys were as excited as though it were their own birthday. Pfew! Anyway, it was impossible to choose from the piles and piles - it quite honestly made me exhausted just thinking of doing so - so I simply scanned the first things I laid my eyes on in MY workspace (whence the boys' insistence on calling their art table "ower work. space" (= our workspace)).

by Leo > from left to right > Tomi, Mommy, Leo & Daddy

by Tomi > a psychedelic skyful

by Leo > a Pokémon cat with hearts representing the four (nuclear) family members, subsequently cut out with a pair of poor kiddie scissors (the boys are looking forward very much to their first pair of real scissors).

* "Tomorrow is guess-who's birthday?" "OUR birthday!" "No, it's mommy's!" "NO-o-o-o-o-O!"

Highly Suggested Watching

Happy Birthday to Me!

What a gorgeously autumnal, delicious, hilarious and generally fantastic day - and well into the night.

A few words and pictures to illustrate the point:

A scene from the end of a long, lovely, languorous lunch at... (drum roll...) the Buerehiesel - !! - during which we thought often of Ellen and Donnie, and which was followed by a walk in the park that merited the same and other, similar adjectives.

the poster reads: A mother, a patriot, a warrior: Jenny! A president!

We were walking home from a movie (which was Made in Strasbourg, and in which the voices of our children can be distinctly heard at the very end - it's true!), knowing that Anne-Sophie and Caroline's offer to babysit while we took it in was not without diabolical plans galore. But we were still shocked when, as we neared our home, we began seeing the Jenny for President and I (heart) Jean-Philippe posters. The posse that awaited us was full of hilarity, there was more good food - this time grilled out (on the terrace), North American style - plus Gallo wines, and a putsch, to boot! Great friends, great times.

p.s. JPhi and I were too busy having fun to take more than the pictures you see here. A few Very Important Friends are conspcuously missing in this compilation, a fact for which I apologize profusely. I'm going to have to ask the official photographer for a CD of his pile and a half of images and films...

A young cowboy with a heart of gold and a spatula of stainless steel.

Marion is not amused.

BBQ-ing before, during and after.

(1) the propoganda posse, cranking out posters for (2) the putsch. Little whippersnappers!

Green Post 01

This just in - a bit of sunshine for a greener, better life!

Interlude: Dilly-Dally-ing (2/4)

above Sweet moments from the day of Dally's arrival.


above and below Sweet moments from the day after Dally's arrival, with a wink in Amber's direction and alot of fun in the sun. The second picture is of Tomikins' explanation of where he got bruised on one of his ways down that slide.* Wasn't half bad enough to keep him from going straight back up the ladder, though!



above An evening out with friends, including a "before" shot of David H's hair (see 4/4 for the "after" shot, whenever I actually manage to get that post up) and a look at the evening sky (which was much more impressive in real life, believe me).

above One of my wee artists at work, and another of his works.

* When we were home for Xmas, we went sledding at my old elementary school, on the hill behind this slide. The weather had turned funny the night before, and a good half of the tons of snow had turned to ice, making sledding quite the feat. At one point, Leo took advantage of our inattention, and bolted over to the slide and up the ladder. Once atop, he wasn't sure what to do. It was a long way back down, either way, and the ladder seemed like the least sure of the two ways, what with all of the ice that had accumulated the night before. So Jean-Philippe hunched down at the bottom of the slide and coaxed him down that way. But there was ice in the slide, as well, and when the kid-torpedo came flying towards him, there was nothing to do but back off - and watch the missile shoot another fifty feet along the icy ground, to an eventual halt. The beached baby whale that we collected in our arms had his eyes wide-wide open, and only this to say: "Ahch!"

Stone Soup and Dandelions*

Above: cute First Day of School pics
Below: yegads! Circuitous sentences galore!

I actually sent some of this to one of the people concerned, but then thought a part of it worth another oblique post - and so here it is, another post posted before I finish our Summer, the Io-Way blogging:

In the past few days, I'd been thinking so much of two people, both of whom are suffering from kidney inflictions (and the one of whom I know, in a way, through the other's family blog. Just to make things even more fraught with obliquity. They know who they are, though, and that's what matters)... Anyway, I was thinking so much of them that I managed to convince myself yesterday evening that I was developing another kidney infection, myself (like the one I'd had about ten years ago, thanks to a drunken doctor - no joke! - who gave me the wrong meds. Long, weird, painful story). Those fears didn't stop me from taking the boys out for sushi last night, though. (They asked!**) And by the time we'd gotten home, I'd reverse-convinced myself that the pain was really due to the way I'd been sitting at the drawing board all day. (Fingers crossed, knuckles rapping on wood...)

Anyway... it was kind of weird. I kept alternating between wondering how we'd do things for the next few days, and wondering how in the world all of them had been doing it over the past few days. And breathing in deeply, breathing out...

* Again: oblique. But once it had been thought up, it was staying up. My apologies.

** The boys were watching a Japanese animated series called Kié on the evening of the day before the first day of school (whew! That was a long-winded beginning to break the records the sentences above had already set, eh?), and began pleading with their daddy to be given the skewered meats and makizushi that Kié delights in for their supper. And so - and especially because I was already feeling rotten for not having prepared something special for their first-day-of-school breakfast, well... We broke down and took them around the corner last night, to the Mikado. They had a good time, though they were utterly exasperated by the the fact that they couldn't manipulate their hashi, and Leo wasn't into the fish makizushi at all. Tomi, on the other hand, ate his share, and a good half of my lovely seared tuna dish, as well. Oh, and as some of you know, the best way to keep our boys happy and busy at a restaurant is to bring along the drawing supplies. And as those some of you will probably already have guessed, the boys spent half of the time at the Mikado drawing - what? - Pokémon figures and scenes. Ô-yé!