Bummer Bummer, Little Star

Goodness gracious, y'all -

Earlier this year, HBO aired the second season of a show called "True Detective." You should never watch it - mostly because it's inappropriate for children, but also because it was just plain boring and packed with characters without a single redeeming quality and had a completely meandering plot. BUT I thought of it last night because there was a bar in the show where a singer-songwriter would perform the MOST DEPRESSING music you've ever heard in your life. One internet commenter called it Depressing Dirges For Dive Bars.

This is how Twinkle Twinkle Little Star would be played there:

...On a ukelele that's missing half its strings, in a minor key, slowed down for maximum gravitas, with reimagined lyrics in the corner of a poorly-lit room, with just a promising enough finish to make me tune into the next episode. 

Nice work, you mini hipsters. You always keep me tuned in.

Love,

Mom

Laney's Got a Phone

Dear Laney,

Since we moved into "town" three years ago, we haven't had a home phone. Our cell phones work just fine, and we didn't see the need to have a landline (so millennial of us, I know). But every once in a while, I would think how much easier it would be to teach you and Hagen a 7-digit home number instead of trying to explain, "If you're ever lost, you'll probably be scared and confused and you'll need to remember these ten digits in this order..." 

So when our cable company offered us a free home phone line as part of a service bundle, we figured, "Why not?" For fun, we told you it could be YOUR phone, and we taught you the number in case of emergencies. I should have known you'd take to a new communication device like a dog takes to ham. 

I programmed in all the grandparents' phone numbers, and the numbers for your best buddies, and you have no problem scrolling through the menu and ringing people up. I'll admit it's a little disconcerting to see "Laney Burbach" on my caller ID when I'm traveling. 

For a minute, I thought, "Maybe we were being ridiculous, telling a first grader that she could have a phone," but it has already paid off in a couple of fabulous ways:

1) You dad hates talking on the phone, which is fine, because he's terrible at it. Now when I go on a business trip or even if I've gone to the grocery store and realize I've forgotten my shopping list, I don't even bother calling your dad - I call you. I had to go to Palm Springs a few weeks ago for work, and was having lunch there with my friend, Brian. I explained to Brian how great it was to call you on the phone. "She always answers between the first and second ring," I told him, "And she'll be happy to tell you everything that happened to her all day long, usually starting with, 'It was good good good good...' I highly recommend it."

Knowing that you love a good knock-knock joke, Brian looked some up and called you on your number. Sure enough, you answered immediately. It went like this:

Brian: "Knock-knock"

Laney: (click)

I called you right back and explained, "That was Brian calling. He just wanted to tell you some jokes." "Oh," you said, "I just knew it was some strange boy trying to tell me knock-knock jokes, and I didn't want to hear it, so I hung up."

It took me 30+ years to learn I could just hang up on strange boys I didn't want to talk to, so bravo!

2) Your grandmother Peg-Peg is a little Disney-crazy. We have a trip to Disney World coming up on the calendar, which means that months and months ahead of time, Peg has been wanting to talk about where we could have lunch on a distant Wednesday at 1pm. Since I normally don't know what I want to eat thirty minutes from now, I have no real opinion on the Hoop-Dee-Doo Musical Revue vs anywhere else. Now, I have a phone number to give Peg Peg where she can reach someone who's willing to hold the phone and twirl her hair and discuss the relative merits of a Rapunzel meet n' greet. Outsourcing!

Love,

Mom

Letter to Santa / Text To The Teacher

Dear Laney,

I can't tell you how much we love your first grade teacher. 

Stuff You're Into: Birthday Edition

Dear Hagen,

Incredible to believe, but you're turning 4 in a few weeks. I feel like you should still be 2; 2 sounds right. I thought we'd take a moment to discuss some of the things you're doing and enjoying these days, so I don't forget:

1) "CHEEEEEEEEEEESE!" It's the best and worst thing ever, all at once.

2) BEING CHARMING AS HECK - Your dad and I are already discussing that it's only a matter of time before girls start calling our house. Your dad took you to a place called "The Man Cave" (I know) to get your hair cut a few weeks ago, and sent me this picture. It was your first time to have your hair cut professionally - usually I do it with the clippers in the yard and it's free and you get a popsicle and everyone's happy. But you wanted to go and sit in the "spinny chair." According to your dad, you talked to the ladies in the barber shop the whole time you were there.

Then, when your haircut was over, the stylist said, "You are just the cutest! Are you going to come back and see me?" According to your dad, you said, "Sure. I just need to let my hair grow a little first."

We met up with some friends downtown last weekend, and you hugged 9 year-old Ora's neck and told her you'd missed her and then YOU KISSED HER HAND. I have no idea where you got that. Ora's mom looked at me and said, "He's already got more game than his dad," which is true (sorry, Thor.)

I took you with me a few days later when it was Laney's turn for a new hairdo, and you entertained HER hairstylist, too. 

When Laney's haircut was finished, Morgan the stylist said, "You are just ADORABLE! Can I play with your hair, too?" And you hopped right on over.

 Basically, everyone who meets you wants to eat you up with a spoon.

3) TRANSFORMERS - Still. I refuse to donate any more column inches to those things, but trust that I know the difference between an Autobot and a Decepticon. You only put one thing on your Christmas list this year: "A robot that can turn into a dinosaur that is also a race car but is a good guy."

When you're playing with your Transformers, you make gun sounds like this: "PUH-CHEW! PUH CHEW!" You warn the bad guys that they'd better not give you trouble, or you'll "puh-chew" them. It's the cutest thing ever,  probably because it's so unrealistic. It definitely doesn't bode well for your future as a Foley artist.

4) PLAYING WITH YOUR SISTER - I can't believe how lucky we are that you get along so well. I think 90% of our success is because you're so easygoing and willing to perform whatever role she assigns you. Lately, you're always the student and she's the teacher. When I advocate for you: "Say, Laney, why don't you let Hagen have a turn to be the teacher?" Laney always says, "What if he's the teacher's helper?" This is totally a scam because the "teacher's helper" gets told what to do just as often as the "student" does. But you seem happy with the fake promotion.

This morning at 3:00am, I woke up because I heard you two playing with LEGOs* downstairs in your room. Seems you couldn't sleep, so you came upstairs and woke Laney up and you guys thought it would be totally appropriate in the middle of the night to head downstairs together and start building a fortress. I stomped down there to break up the fun and when I got to your door, you were both silent and still, hiding under the covers. Like, who did you think you were fooling? I made you both go to your own respective rooms and turn out the lights, while also saying a quick prayer that you always have that kind of fun together. 

5) YOUR BEST FRIEND, FINLEY - The bromance continues. 

At the brewery the other day, while the adults were catching up, I watched the two of you get a bucket of board games out and silently work together to put together "Boggle." You don't fuss, you don't negotiate...you just have a mutual interest in putting stuff together and making it work. 

6) STICKS. Especially if they have magical powers. 

7) TAKING YOUR SWEET TIME - You are never in a hurry. Ever. We went to your parent-teacher conference a little while ago, and your teacher said, "I LOVE HAGEN! He's the sweetest, and so easy-going and just loves to snuggle. I shouldn't say this, but he's definitely one of my favorites!" "But?" I asked. "But," she continued, "...You can't rush him." I said, "Like you want to look at that sweet little face and yell, 'FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT'S HOLY, CAN YOU PLEASE PUT ON YOUR DAMN SHOES?!?'" And she nodded like she knew exactly what I was talking about. 

Your school divides all the kids into two groups: The Nappers and the Non-Nappers. There are two lunch periods...first the Non-Nappers eat and then head out to the park so the school will be quiet. Then, the Nappers eat before settling down to rest. Last month, you asked me if you could make the transition from Napper to Non-Napper. I called the school and asked your teacher, "Would it be a big deal to add Hagen to the Non-Nappers?" "No problem!" she assured me. "It takes him so long to eat, we had already added him to that first lunch...and then he just stays through the second." That's right: two lunch periods, because it takes you an hour to eat some chicken fingers. 

8) BEING THE COOLEST GUY I KNOW.

Love,

Mom

* I know that the plural of LEGO is LEGO and not LEGOs, but it sounds so weird, I'm choosing to ignore it.

Halloween

Hey y'all - 

In what is becoming a Halloween tradition, Laney started the day at school dressed as one thing (in this case: a cat) and ended the day by trick-or-treating as something else...

A hula girl. Because it's Montana, she was a hula girl with a warm base layer and rain boots. 

Hagen was happy to be a dragon and stay that way. 

I decided to dress up as a witch. Note to self: The 99-cent green make-up at Target is NOT a bargain, because you'll have to put on nine layers and still won't get good coverage. 2nd note to self: Why the hell are you dressing up, anyway, since all you'll doing is walking down a dark street watching your children ask strangers for candy?

Your dad has this (oh, let's say) quirky habit of disappearing into the garage for long stretches without telling us where he's going or what he's working on. That's usually a good indication that he's working on something ridiculous. In this case, your dad decided on Halloween that your visiting Uncle Nate needed a costume, too, and spent an hour crafting this Ghostbusters get-up:

I've never seen anyone so happy to be holding a homemade ghost containment unit. Your dad was a Jedi or something. Some "Star Wars" person. I refuse to inform myself on this point. 

Hagen, your dad and I often notice that you have the manners and disposition (and work ethic) of an 80 year-old man. Lots of lying around, snuggling and snacking. "Roll that window up!" you tell me in the car, like I'm crazy, "It's COLD out there!" I say that as an intro to my favorite moment from trick-or-treating...

You and the friends you were trick-or-treating with knocked on the door of a house with an ample porch and some nice patio furniture. While every other kid yelled "TRICK OR TREAT!" at the woman at the door, you rubbed the cushions of her outdoor sofa and asked "Is dis your couch?" When she admitted it was, you said, "It looks SO COZY..." and started to climb on this woman's sofa in your dragon outfit, presumably so you could take a load off. We had to come scoop you up, put you back on the path to the next house, and remind you to get your game face on. 

Yeah, that's the one. 

Love,

Mom

In Summmmerrrr..

Hey y'all - 

It's December 9th here. It's rainy and grey and cold and gross and so I can think of nothing I'd rather do than recap our summer. 

I was looking at the numbers of entries by year on this blog and was shocked by how few I've written in 2015. Then I remember that every weekend, I spend 30 minutes of my life cutting 30 fingernails and 30 toenails and little by little your day gets eaten away by stuff like that when you have two active kids who are into leaving the house and doing stuff. Also: we've been introduced to homework. 

But here's what I can remember of what we did this past summer:

1) Your Grandpa Ron came to visit. We spent a lot of time hanging out at the lakes nearby. 

Hagen, you and Ron really hit it off, perhaps because you seem to have the same nap schedule:

But here's the thing about Ron...he's in his mid-80s and likes to act like he's an old man who couldn't possibly get up out of that lawn chair...

...And then a pretty girl asks him to dance and the next thing you know, he's boogying his butt off in the middle of downtown Missoula. 

By the way, this is what it looks like when everyone you've given birth to wants to dance with you at the same time. And they always want to dance with you at the same time: 

2) Grandpops came to visit from Missouri. We flew him out to help us build a new covered deck on the side of our house. Uncle Nate drove over to help, and in less than a week, I pretty much had a deck. I spent a lot of time that week trying to come up with a new reality show format that would involve Uncle Nate and his nail gun, because I don't think I've ever seen anything move that fast. I also bought A LOT of beer that week. I'd like to thank KettleHouse Brewery for making my deck possible. 

There were SO many trips to Home Depot. 

While Grandpops was here, we also went to the county fair, which is the biggest ripoff in the entire world and you might as well buy a ticket to Disney World for what it costs to ride the Ferris Wheel three times. 

 

I mean, you pay $4 to walk through a Fun House and slide down onto a dirty twin mattress. WHAT'S NOT TO LOVE?!?

But every year I go back, so... Fool me five times, shame on me.

Speaking of Nate, on one of the days he was here, I had volunteered to host a preschool Pirate Treasure Hunt for Hagen's school at the park. I was scrambling that morning to put it all together: set up the plank, hide the clues, bury the treasure... when Uncle Nate pulled up to the curb with two large coffees, ready to lend a hand and save the day. I have never loved an in-law as much as I loved him in that moment.

When the kids found the treasure and attacked it like a bunch of raving hyenas, Nate used the professional skills he'd learned as a bouncer to tell all those three year olds to back the hell up and pick a prize one at a time. 

3) My friend Amy came out to visit from California with her two children: Julia and Christian. They are the NICEST kids on the planet, and I'm not just saying that. I'm known, in fact, for saying "Hell is other people's children." But these two played with you guys and were so patient even though they're so much older and included you in everything. 

We only encountered one (memorable) hiccup during their visit. One afternoon, Laney, you were jumping on the trampoline in the yard with 8 year-old Christian. He made the mistake of lying down on the trampoline, and I guess you decided that he was pretending to be a prince under a spell, because you climbed over to him and planted a kiss right on his lips and said, "THAT ought to wake you up." He took it pretty well, but you and I had to have a talk about informed consent about 8 years ahead of schedule. 

By the next afternoon, you guys were back to having whispered conversations on the lakeshore, so I guess he's not permanently scarred. For all I know, you're engaged.

 4) I worked on a show called "Home Free" that aired on Fox. This woman is crying because she's so excited I'm employed.

5) Peg and Tex came to visit. We went on a hike. 

We went on a photo scavenger hunt around the neighborhood. 

We did lots of fun things that I can't find pictures of, so I'm sure my mother is wondering why I'm instead posting these pictures of her on the internet without her hair and make-up done. 

Oh! Speaking of! When I was in Nashville this summer for Kim's wedding, I shared a hotel room with Peg Peg and Tex. One night of our stay, around 2 in the morning, the hotel's fire alarm went off. I said, "Y'all, this could be real. No one's answering at the front desk. We should evacuate." Peg and Tex sort of made motions to get up and go, but they didn't seem to agree that it was an emergent situation. In my pajamas, I grabbed my shoes and told them I would meet them outside. I didn't even stop to look for my glasses - I was just GONE. Down seven flights of stairs, sure that I would be pursued by a Michael Bay fireball. I stood outside that hotel with all the other hotel guests and about five fire engines because YES, there was a natural gas leak that had been reported and needed to be cleared. Around fifteen minutes later, your grandparents emerged from the side entrance, and I want you to know that your grandmother had on a matching outfit, with coordinated shoes and purse and her hair was in place. And you know the first thing I thought?

"This is why Southern women will never survive the zombie apocalypse."

One good thing about having a grandmother who's a lifelong medical professional is when you play "Doctor," she can give you valuable advice like "Don't ever say you don't know what's wrong with him. Say you're going to run some tests and he should make a follow-up appointment in two weeks."

We had so much company this summer, that Laney started putting Post-its on the bathroom door:

"Someone is in here. Do not go in here."

6) Your dad represented the Civil Air Patrol in the Homecoming Parade. There were 198 entries in the parade and your dad's group was 187.

Banjo-picking Bernie supporters and Hillary herself made an appearance. 

Then an hour or so later, your dad came driving by in an SUV. I'm probably making that sound more exciting than it was. 

And that's summer, people. 

Love,

Mom