Montecito Mama

The kids and I walked off dinner tonight with a skateboard/tricycle/stroller ride through the neighborhood. I would've liked a little more cardio to the excursion, but then we would've missed conversations with strangers, a finger ouwy that is all better, and lots and lots of snails. Lucie: "Mom, can you hold my snails for me?" Mom: "No." Lucie: "It's okay. My will put them in my pocket. No one else lives in there. Nobody."

Grayson and I saw back-to-back plays on Saturday. First it was "Snow White and the Seven Dwarves" with the entire Wagner clan, during which Lucie was compelled to yell at the stage, "No, Snow White! Don't eat the apple!" Then the boy and I saw Cirque Eloize Nebbia, sort of a Latin American Cirque de Soile. A hidden trampoline, corks raining from the ceiling, women on trampezes; it was breathtaking!

I, Janice Wagner, do hereby resolve that holidays will no longer be fueled by sticky candy necklaces, fruity lollipop rings and sugar-filled straws. Those days are behind us. Chocolate is now an over-18-only activity. Heretofore, the fun of holidays will not be found in multiple trips to Kmart, baskets full of that grass stuff that always gets everywhere and is impossible to clean up, and food coloring (don't even get me started on the food coloring, not to mention the sprinkles!). Instead, I will strive to take advantage of empty movie theaters and short lines at the In-N-Out Drive thru. As a family. And perhaps find a little enjoyment in watching the rookie parents with their blue-dyed hands attempt to lure their toddlers away from the chocolate bunny with a baked ham. This is my solemn vow. Amen.

Lucie is sharing the Good News on this Good Friday. In her case, though, the news is a bit grim. "Jesus died," she says to strangers with a knowing grin. "He died, and then forgot about all of our stuff." Or so goes her version of the story. This religious fixation is carrying over into all aspects of her 2-year-old life, including arts and crafts. The picture above, she tells me, is of Jesus' belly button. Further proof of his humanity, I suppose.

Bad news, people. Today was the worst day in Grayson's wiener's life. Or so he claims. I'm not worried. I'm confident that there are better days in store for said wiener. To be sure, I've learned my lesson that, when brushing peanut shells from the front side of his clothing, care must be taken in certain southern regions. Point taken. And he's learned not to be quite so enthusiastic when pulling the vacuum cleaner handle back and forth. "My wiener hates vacuuming and says that..." he sobbed after the second assault. "Uh-uh," I stopped him cold. "I learned a long time ago not to listen to talking wieners." Wanting a piece of the action for herself, Lucie sat down on the couch with a bowl of cashews and soon declared, "Uh-oh Mommy. My found two nuts in my panties!" Low brow humor knows no depths. What's next? Pull my finger?