Tit for Tat

I guess Santa liked the cookies and carrots we left for him and the reindeer.  He sure left a mess on my new mantle!

 

 

 
 

Sure, Jeff broke his front teeth riding his bike here, but it's a Cecchin tradition!

Oh Christmas Tree

In the wake of returning to our house, we just didn't feel totally up to decorating for Christmas.  Our cheery neighbors, however, lighted and sparkled their house to the max and Marco was very jealous.

"Avery gets a HUGE tree and it has all different colored lights!"

So, in my best PR spin, I convinced him that it would be so much COOLER to have a tree just HIS size that he could decorate ALL.BY.HIMSELF.  He's a sucker for a good lead.

We selected this beauty from the 2-4 footers at Rite Aid and it was a hit.  Marco put every single ornament on this tree and he was glowing with pride.

Christmas Candy

Jeff had a few extra hands while making his batch of Christmas torrone this year.  They even got to lick the mixer - Italian style.

We're making our little blond neighbors into good little dagos!

Please excuse Marco.

Sometimes when you've been home sick from school for three days, you get to go get ice cream.  In your PJs.  Wearing a necklace.

All I Want for Christmas

Even though Benny already told Marco that Santa wasn't "for real life," Marco remains a devotee.  He was desperate to see him again at this year's SI Santa event.  He stared with patience and dedication waiting to hear his name, shooting up to get his gift and adding "Oh and Santa?  My Mom wants to take our picture."

When it was time for a group pic, Marco jumped up and ran full speed to nestle himself right by Santa's knees.  Strategy, people.

Marco was busy across the room playing with his gift (a big hit - a whistling football) when they announced Santa's departure.  Marco broke into a sprint across the room to say goodbye and give him a huge hug and thank you.  Adorable.

Back at home, we told Marco that he should write a list for Santa.  As we painfully spelled each word while he wrote, he asked how Santa would get the list.  Since I permanently gave up stamps this year, I told him I would take a picture and text it to him.  The awe on Marco's face made me momentarily question myself.  "Yooooou can text Saaaanta?"  "Sure, of course Santa texts."  Hey, it's 2012 and the postal service is going bankrupt.

Anyway, here's the proof:

Happy Thanksgiving!

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Parent Participation Hours

Jeff is sneaky.  He hatched a plan that was basically an elaborate way to use the school's restaurant-grade pizza oven.  He'd been eyeing it for almost a year. And poof.  His volunteer hours were born.

He suggested making pizza for Marco's class - maybe even let them help.  The teachers were thrilled with the idea and let him know that there were 80 kids.  WHA?! 

Apparently, the whole school is invited.

Jeff called for reinforcement. 

Super Grandma and I joined the pizza crew (with aprons, not capes) and made 15 pizzas for 80 kids and teachers. 

We brought Marco his own apron and the rubber "tossing pro-doughs" for the kids to play with.  Marco was very proud of his pizza-tossing lineage.  His friends were equally impressed.

And what's not to love?

Pre-School Days

Pre-school continues to progress nicely for Marco.  He was elevated to his new class over the summer.  Their program started in September, when he was assigned to the "Terrific Tigers" group with his new teacher, Rosa.

Rosa lives in our neighborhood and we've seen her walking in the evenings with her husband.  Marco thinks that's about the coolest thing in the world. 

It's amazing how suddenly the classroom clicks.  I wasn't sure it would happen, but as it turns out, he is just four.  Marco is really getting interested in his letters and numbers now, even finishing his homework without us - after I'd left for work and while Jeff was in the shower.  "Rosa said my Cs were great!  I said, 'that's because there's so many Cs in my name.'"

Clearly, Marco is looking forward to homemade pizza.  :)

Never the budding artist, he's even started wanting to draw.  I have to laugh at my pride at his latest drawing of me, "with lots and lots of arms."  At first I thought it was a beard, so I was pleased that he clearly considers me a multi-tasker.  (I personally like my bangs.)

His teachers say he loves playing the best and is the first to line up for outside play.  When I pick him up, it's almost 6, he's among a handful of kids left and he still groans, "Ahh, Mom... five more minutes?"  They assure me if his lunch wasn't finished, it's because he was talking too much and ran out of time.

He still has a streak of class clown in him, though.  "During naptime, while the teacher wasn't looking, I got up, ran across the room, touched Joaquin and came back and laid down and she didn't even notice!"  Even I had to stifle a laugh, so maybe he'll never grow out of that.

We visited two schools to look at kindergarten over the past couple of weeks, the local public school, Crocker Highlands and the local Catholic school, Corpus Christi (Brookie's school).  Both seemed perfectly fine for Marco, I know he'll rock either option.

Home Sweet Home

100 days away from our house. 

We did not expect it to take this long. 

Up until the last few weeks, we were genuinely pleased with our apartment situation.  We really enjoyed the pool, hot tub, gym and the simplicity of a small place with few responsibilities and few things.  But as our responsibilities for getting the house back together grew and the amount of bags and stuff we continually loaded into the apartment, it started to lose luster.

In case you aren't up to speed on our adventure, after the flood (August 4th,) the house wasn't liveable.  It took over a week to demolish the walls, ceilings, baseboards, floors and dry it all out.  Every room was filled with dryers, dehumidifiers and fans.  Our PG&E bill was $900 for the week! 

After that, the insurance guy came out to assess the damage.  I took an hour off work to meet with him... it took six.  It was a very arduous, detailed process - especially considering there wasn't one place to sit in the whole house.  Besides all the walls, flooring and ceilings that need replacing, he also deemed the carpet unsalvagable and the hardwoods damaged. 

They extended our temporary housing coverage.

He cut us a check that day made out to us and our lender.  The lender requires a quote from your contractor as a part of the significant paperwork we need to submit to get the money.  So, over the next few weeks, we met regularly with a contractor who.... stopped calling us back.  At all.  My even-keeled husband was losing it.  He had to go to their physical office after two weeks of no returned calls to fire them.  They didn't speak to him when he came in and finally he had to say, "I just want my key back."  They obliged.

At this point, we were seven weeks into the process, the house was still a disaster and we had not one single bit of progress and no money. 

They extended our temporary housing coverage. 

Since the house was a hazard and every wall was open, we upgraded our plumbing, some electrical and re-routed damaged duct work.

They extended our temporary housing coverage - this time, laughing "I knew it would be longer last time, but you seemed pretty stressed, so I didn't mention it."  Great.

Enter Juan and Juan, the best damn contractors in the East Bay.  They've done a lot of work on our house over the years, but never something quite this extensive.  They gave us a very reasonable quote and started right away with very little deposit.  It has been a huge relief to see progress every.single.day.  Sure, those guys can wreck a case of beer at the end of every day, but I'm fine with that.

Plus, they said they hate to put everything back the same way, so we went ahead and opened the doorway from the kitchen to the dining room, added hardword floors in the kitchen (which they had to custom hand cut), painted the kitchen cabinets, put in a new sink, upgraded our fridge to something more appropriate for a house than a boat and fixed up the sunroom.

And finally... they didn't have to extended our temporary housing coverage.

Our insurance provider has been great.  Even though we basically had to pay everything out of pocket, (fortunately we could!), at least we're covered.  Our lender inspected the house today to ensure that work was complete and that we could receive our insurance payout.

And we'd be remiss not to mention all the friends and family that have chipped in over the past few months with food, fun and hosting.

We've been laboriously putting the house back together.  We definitely underestimated the amount of work that it would take.  It took my Mom and I two days to get the kitchen in order.  Emptying all the cabinets, washing the cabinets, washing their contents and reloading is a process only softened by wine and good company.  Every inch is covered in filthy dust, essentials like towel racks, nails and closet rods are missing and house contents are scattered in every corner, room, deck and floor in the house.  20 loads of laundry is pretty daunting, too. 

But - we can't complain!  We're happy to be home, snug in our beds.  Marco really summed up his emotional side too.  "It's great to see my toys again - I missed Godzilla and Optimus Prime!" 

Sure, we'll miss our pool, hot tub and gym, but home is where the heart is.  (Plus... all of our pants and jackets.  We're still dressed for August and it's getting cold.)

Here's my kitchen to dry your eyes:

Nine Lives

If you don’t know, we have two cats. I don’t talk about it much because only crazy people have cats. They are older than the hills and spend the majority of their day sleeping. Mista can barely make the jump to the bed and Toby is deaf. "TOBY!!"

After the flood, the cats lived bachelorette pad-style while we rocked the Hyatt House Dylan McKay-style. Unfortunately, the cats couldn’t live much longer alone in the house while under construction, so we brought them over to Emeryville when we moved to the apartment.

In an effort to minimize the adjustment period after the terrifying move, I bought them wet food as a treat. Marco feeds it to them daily and they’re honestly like kittens again. He also terrorizes them like a 4-year old boy.

And… they’re starting to like it. Jeff says that Toby has Stockholm Syndrome.

Poor thing.

Epona Magica

We swung by our local racetrack when we heard Mulry's horse was running. I think it's fair to say that Marco has inherited our gambling spirit.

We bet the filly to place (her grandfather's claim to fame was placing second in the Triple Crown). She led the pack in the first half and fell to the back to finish second to last.

Including my beer, we're in the red to be sure.

Marco loves the race program and even took it to read in the bathroom this morning. Yep, pretty sure we have a budding degenerate gambler on our hands.
And here's the proof:












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Tough as Glass

As it turns out, playing barefoot while your friend's family is unpacking is not the best plan. The night of our drive to Long Beach, while Jeff slept to prep for the drive, Marco stepped on glass. His foot was gushing blood, which could not be contained by a bandaid. He was sobbing and I couldn’t even see the cut. I finally got it bandaged and contained, but he couldn’t walk.

It was like traveling with the queen of Sheba. Since Jeff the pack mule (he’s very strong) was carrying two boat bags, his work bag and a case of wine, I was in charge of my purse, one boat bag and Marco (he’s heavier than he looks). Carried him home from Romioses, up to apartment, down to car, into Denny’s at 4 a.m., to the bathroom at Denny’s, into boat terminal, onto boat, on boat legs outside for fresh air when he wasn't feeling well, to dinghy and onto Poseidon. Oh and I held the bag while he yakked on the boat trip since the bathroom was full. I earned that 6 a.m. mimosa.

In Long Beach, we picked up some more appropriate bandages which we changed daily in Catalina (in case you noticed the constantly bandaged foot in the photos). It wasn’t infected, but he was still limping a little and it wasn’t really healing. We attributed it to swimming every day.

15 days later, back at the ranch…

Jeff looks again and sees the chunk of glass. He reached in with tweezers and just pulled it out. It didn’t bleed or anything, just popped right out. A fairly large, hole punch-sized, round piece of well-traveled glass. Marco didn't even wince.  “That feels better.”

Shopping Pal

I like having a boy.  I've accepted they're high energy, smelly and gross, but I'm glad that Marco is a boy.  However, in the interest of full disclosure, I'm a little jealous hearing what great little shopping pals all those little girls are!  Shopping with Marco is as bad as shopping with Jeff. 

Jeff immediately gets a headache and his back hurts - he needs to sit down.  Sometimes I can satiate him with a chair near the dressing room and his phone. 

Marco touches everything, insists he neeeeeeds everything because "he's never had this before," and sometimes I can satiate him with a chair near the dressing room and my phone.

At Michael Kors in Vacaville, Marco had teary eyes and cried to me, "How come Grammy gets to buy something and I don't?  Can I please have that watch??" 

Other recent in-store meltdowns have included neeeeeding weights, wire clamps and these glasses.   "I need these because I've never had them and I want to be a teacher!  Please!  I'll never be a teacher if I don't have these glasses!  Is that what you want?"

The Facts of Life

Sometimes a parent has to put a foot down, even when it might border on arranged marriage. Playing “wedding” is a high stakes game folks, and when Marco and Brooke wanted to marry each other, they told Niko he had to marry Olive. Niko burst into tears. “But I don’t want to marry Olive! Mommmmm!!!”

And there was born an adamant new parent rule: “Niko can’t marry Olive! Niko has to marry Brookie! Marco will marry Olive!”

Someone take a note.

Critics' Picks

With the weekend to ourselves, Marco designed a Saturday just for us, requesting “a movie in the movie theatre with popcorn and candy, lunch and swimming in the hot tub and cold pool.”  He planned a fantastic day. 

We saw Hotel Transylvania – a movie that Marco INSISTS is called “Frankenstein.”  He describes the movie as “about a vampire and his daughter and a lot of monsters.  There’s a real boy though that says he’s Frankenstein’s cousin that the vampire puts in a costume.  The chef wants to make him into soup.  It was so funny, but there were scary parts too – the vampire’s face gets red and mean!”

We had such a lovely day on Saturday, that on Sunday, when Marco requested that we do exactly the same thing, I couldn’t quite figure out why not.  So, we did it again!  New candy, more popcorn, same theatre, new movie – Frankenweenie.

In my most recent parent-of-the-year submission, I didn’t really do any research on the movie.  It was a cartoon, check.  BUT, it was black and white ala Citizen Kane, it was dark and macabre ala Edward Scissorhands and, honestly, truly, petrifying.  Think squeaky door, silent room, “Is someone there?” and huge, ugly, petrifying dead family pets coming to life as monsters – jumping out at every turn.  Petrifying.  Add the screaming damsel in distress next door -check- and it was clearly a nod to classic horror films.  To give you an idea, a girl a little older than Marco was CRYING behind us.  Darn scary Tim Burton!

I even pulled out my phone to double check the rating to make sure I was in the right place.  (PG.)  I whispered to him that we were so lucky that this was such a scary make-believe Halloween movie. He agreed.

Lucky for me, Marco is tough.  He loves creepy things and loves to be scared.  Proving that he’s a better parent than me, at the pinnacle of the fright fest, he leaned over and said, “Mom, this is too scary, we should go home.”  I didn’t want to leave before they resolved everything – which thankfully did happen, eventually. Finally, the film (yes, film) wrapped up the scary loose ends – darkly, of course.  Sigh of relief.

In summary, we highly recommend Hotel Transylvania for your Halloween viewing delight. 

And here's the proof:

Lolo's

As part of our ongoing trek for travel and fabulous hair, Marco visited the historical Lolo's Barber Shop in Avalon.  He was even shorn by the infamous Lolo! 

The barber shop was opened in 1964 when it had less sports paraphenelia on the walls I'm sure and has been a local mainstay since then.  Lolo was very friendly and slightly taller than Marco.  He gave Marco a baseball mitt (that Jeff insisted he sign) and a bazooka bubble gum (possibly from 1964). 

Another successful haircut on location!

Hook, Line & Sinker

Once again we (to read: Jeff) drove through the night so we could catch the 6 a.m. boat to Catalina to spend a week on Poseidon.

Boat Papa bought Marco his first real fishing pole, a beautiful, red, lightweight spinning reel. It was love at first sight. I’d say Marco spent about 70% of his waking hours fishing. Hooked. He caught a couple little sea bass (not keepers) and then started bringing in the bait fish. His bait went onto Jeff’s hook. Jeff’s hook went into halibut’s mouth (keeper!) and we ate sushi, grilled fish and fish tacos. See? It’s easy! Marco was BEYOND excited about his role in the sushi catching. And he really took advantage of bringing in the bounty – he ate three WHOLE halibut rolls.

We also had the incredible pleasure of having Uncle Mike and Mariesa and Uncle Brian and Elizabeth. The girls got “Aunt” added occasionally too. ;) These might be four of the most easygoing guests you can imagine. And since it was Mariesa’s first time to the Island, we had to take her to the Chi Chi Club. Obviously.

Jeff also caught a big bat ray and a little shark.  Marco had a litany of questions about do bat rays eat people?  Even little boys?  What about little boy's toes?  Do sharks eat people?  Will that little shark get bigger?  Then will it eat people?  Luckily, his curious nature only made him doubt the ocean, he still braved it.  :)

We kayaked, tubed, snorkeled, swam, ate, drank and enjoyed ourselves immensely.  Here’s proof of thee most fantastically relaxing vacation in the world:

 (Note Marco and Uncle Brian)

 Love this one of the boys.

 So sad to see them go!

 But we quickly got over our sadness.

 Marco adored spending time with Papa.

Dad and I cooked together one night as is our tradition.  My part of the meal was tssk'ed, respiced and grimaced.  Also a tradition. 

Good night Catalina.  See you next year.