How (not) to pick up chicks
At the gym Friday morning, I had an interesting encounter with one of the personal trainers.  I was riding the bike, happily listening to my ipod when we ambled over.  He's not the most... svelt... personal trainer, so he's a little hard to miss.  He is also one that I have never met or worked with, so I was a little surprised when he stopped to talk to me.  "I'm S**** (name removed to protect the guilty)" he said.  They call me "BS" for Big S****."  Well duh, I think.  "Can I give you a compliment?" he asks.  I am not sure what my options are here- can you really respond no to that?  "Um, OK." "You have great arms," he says. "I've been admiring them."  "Thank you." I respond.  "Its from carrying around my two children."  He looks a little less excited at this, but continues to talk for a bit while I nod and look longingly at my ipod.  As he winds up, he gives me a fairly creepy once over sort of look and smiles.  "Remember, my name is BS.  If you need me, you just ask for me."  "Sure," I reply, thinking that he is very full of BS and wondering why, precisely, I might need him.  He starts to walk away.  "What's my name?" he asks.   "BS," I say obligingly.    "Its good to be remembered," he grins.  "Yes," I respond.  "For whatever reason that may be."  He seems to think that this is a good anwer and smiles again.

*******

This morning we met Emily and the boys at the Botanical Gardens.  After a long morning of adventures, we split up right before heading out.  Mariel and Noella and I got on the elevator and headed down to the exit.  The doors opened, and a family with two boys waited while we got off.  The older boy, maybe about 5 or 6, stood, staring at Mariel.  She paused, not sure what to do with the attention. Looking right in her eyes he said in a loud voice: "Wow, she is really cute!" and then took his mother's hand to walk on to the elevator.   His parents and I laughed and the mother sighed.  "I guess it starts now," she said.

What to do when your kid can s-p-e-l-l?
It had to happen eventually.  I mean, our family has had smart dogs that can recall the sounds that make up basic, necessary for daily life and happiness words such a t-r-e-a-t and w-a-l-k.   So why should I be surprised that Mariel has started to figure a few things out, too?  Only kid essentials, like z-o-o and i-c-e (and really, does she need to know how to spell the second part of the word?  If we are spelling "ice" it is most likely leading to ice cream, because if we were just talking about regular old ice we would not need to spell, would we?)
This may really put a damper on adult conversations and planning.  I am not sure how Patrick and I will communicate anymore, as many of our conversations regarding the kids now involve spelling key words.  Maybe we need to learn sign language?

Out and About
Patrick captured some cute images today with my camera.  We were at Mariel's friend's birthday party.  He was turning 5 and had it a Bounce U, where they have all sorts of crazy inflatable games and things.  Personally, it was not my cup of tea... but then again, I am not a preschooler at a party.  I am sure that my 4 year old self would have loved it.  In honor of the event, Mariel even dressed herself in her "sporty" outfit.  Not a hint of pink, so it might be hard to recognize her.  All of the kids had a great time.  Noella was also pretty excited, although she needed me with her to go on the various play things.

In the tunnel

Down the slide (what we thought was the big slide...)

Noella loved all of the slides!  I just had a hard time climbing up the kid sized inflatable chutes to get there.

This is not quite as steep and long as the photography makes it look... but it was pretty high!  This was in the second room, after Mariel mastered the other slides, and invovled climbing like a spider monkey through several layers of nets to get to the top.  I did not go on this one!

Mariel and the birthday boy playing dogeball.

The birthday party assembled (or at least those who could be herded together).

Faith, Doubt, and a 4 year old
Mariel asked in the car on Friday a very good question.  "Why doesn't God give warnings, Mom?"  she asked.  "Like if bad guys are going to kill people or something.  Why doesn't God give a warning?"  Darn good question, kiddo.  As parents we give warnings all of the time, which is I am sure what she was thinking about.  If our kids are going down the wrong road, we give a warning to help steer them back.  But sometimes we don't know that it is the wrong way, I guess, and maybe even the most attentive parent can misread a situation.  But Mariel is in a stage of certainty: there is a God, and he is all knowing.  Which means that she wonders why he is not warning the bad guys (as in: this is a BAD choice. don't do it.) or the people getting hurt (as in: you might get hurt today if you go to X place.  go somewhere else!)  Why are there no warnings for people caught in floods, in car accidents, in wars that they have nothing to do with?  I sure don't know the answer. 
This week a dear, dear friend of mine (a wonderfully loving woman the same age as me, with two small children, married to another dear friend) was diagnosed with Stage 2 non-Hodgkins lymphoma.  She went in to the doctor on Tuesday because of veins that had popped up on her chest.  A rapid fire chain of tests, CAT scans, biopsies, and appointments later, she was diagnosed with cancer.  By Thursday they were ready to start her on chemo and radiation as quickly as possible.  This was two days after what she most likely expected to be a routine appointment.  Another woman I know from Mariel's old school, another young woman my age with two small children, was diagnosed with breast cancer last week.  She is also very healthy, no family history or warning signs, and went in to the doctor because she had a milk duct that kept plugging (she was weaning her toddler).  Why don't they get a warning?  Why can't they make a different choice?
So I don't know why God doesn't give warnings.  I told Mariel that God tries to teach us in other ways, by giving us friends and family who help to teach us what is right and wrong and how to be good, strong people.  And that when people make bad choices, God is sad, but he still loves us.  And if people need help, he is always there to love them.  That seemed to be a good answer for her for now, even if I don't feel that it is enough of an answer for me.  What do you say when your children start asking the same questions that you don't know how to answer for yourself?  Like why isn't life fair, or why do people doing everything right sometimes get the worst outcomes? 

Another conversation with Mariel
Patrick really should come home earlier.  He is missing some great dinner conversations. 
Last night, Mariel asked me where water comes from.  Not sure quite sure how to explain the molecular structure of water to a 4 year old, I hemmed and hawed a bit.  She stopped me.  "No Mom, I mean where does it come from?  To get into the house?"  OK, on to civil engineering.  I talked about the water pipes in the city, and water supply systems and how in places where there are not too many people there are usually wells instead. 
"So here we have pipes, but Grandma and Papa don't have pipes to bring them water to their house?"  She asked. 
"Right.  They have a well." 
"That's because too many people are dead in New York,"  she proclaimed with confidence. 
"Ummm... what?  I mean there are not as many people who live there."  I said this and realized that my wording  probably confirmed her theory.
"Right.  Because they died.  See, Mom, its this way." She started drawing imaginary lines to form a map on the dining room table with her hands. "Over here are the dead people.  Over here is where Grandma and Papa live.  So they are alive but the other people are not.  And they don't need water since they are dead, so Grandma and Papa have a well."
At this point I am really not sure of what to say, so I let her keep going.
"And up here, Mom?"  Waving her hands over her head, then pointing back to the invisible map.  "Up here is heaven.  God is up here.  God does not need water either, so he does not have a well or pipes."
Obviously.