mulberry leaves

It is fascinating to me how we can develop feelings for things that we would normally dismiss. We see caterpillars in the yard all the time and don't think twice about them, but Cole brings one home from school, names him Charlie, and it is suddenly a family pet.

If you look closely in the box you will see a silkworm and what could possibly be his last meal. I hope he savors it because we have reduced ourselves to minor acts of shoplifting to keep him fed.

There is a box of silk worms on display at Cole's school and he asked to take one home. The teacher told us that they only eat mulberry leaves. Mary and I looked at each other and thought 'surely mulberry leaves can't be that difficult to find, can they?' Mary searched around our neighborhood and tried an assortment of leaves and the poor little caterpillar would not eat any of them--at which point she sent me the following text:

"No mulberry leaves. I have just sentenced a silkworm to die and I feel terrible about it."

She then found a mulberry plant at a local garden store, but it sells for $45 and we couldn't justify the expense. I would have chipped in $15 for the little guy but almost Fifty dollars for a pet that isn't really a pet is too much. The only option left was petty theft. Mary plucked six leaves and stashed them in her purse to take home to our worm.

What are we teaching our children during this episode?

1. Cora is allowed to play with the worm, but kidnapping him from the box and hiding him around the house is discouraged.
2. Be sure you know about the proper care of a pet before making a commitment to bring it into the family.
3. Not all leaves are created equal in the eyes of certain caterpillars.
4. People resort to a life of crime when their allegiance to an ideal is strong enough to do something about it, but market values exceed their available resources. It is a good thing the worm doesn't eat diamonds.

Brownies

Cole: Dad, how did you make this?
Me: I just used my sister's recipe. Why?
Cole: So when I am a chef, I can make it instead of just talking about it.

--
I broke out my sister Bette's cream cheese ripple brownie recipe. It still rules. Cole agrees.

desk archeology

Current mood: morning bleary apathy
Currently listening to: 'Son of a preacher man' Dusty Springfield

My pen of choice at the moment is a blue 0.4 mm felt tip Artline200. Actually, my pen of choice would be a black fine tip sharpie, however, they are not readily (for a reasonable price) available here in Australia and more importantly they are not stocked in my office stationary cabinet.

Ever since starting my career working in an office and being exposed to the never-ending supply of pens which exist in the stationary cabinet, I have been hooked on felt tip pens.

I distinctly remember going to an office store in an effort to purchase one for myself and balking at the price. So, I must confess I am a serial offender of swiping pens and using them for personal use. I even snag one for Mary on occasion, though she is far more diligent at remembering to replace the cap when it is not in use and hers last longer.

When I started work this morning, I could not find a pen to use. This is not a good sign, because I distinctly remember having a cup full of them at the start of yesterday. I looked at my desk which was buried under a storm of loose paper and knew something had to be done.

Jim Schellinger, a principal at a firm I worked for in Indiana, once said that when he is faced with his most demanding work load, he ensures that his desk is clean and organized. The concept is sound, except when you make the error of filing all the stuff you need to complete your projects and then can't remember where/how you filed it.

So, I started the process of organizing and found all my pens again. As I was digging down through the layers, I would discover a pen (usually with the cap off; meeting a slow death) which would trigger a memory of what I was doing at that point in the day. I probably could have filled out my time sheet based on the color and arrangement of the pens.

back to work.

Current mood: slight guilt from this ten minute diversion. still bleary. need coffee.
Currently listening to: 'Coin Laundry' Lisa Mitchell

Heron Island

Heron island is one of a group of islands located off the coast of Gladstone, Australia, at the southern end of the Great Barrier Reef. It is unique in many ways. It is a coral cay, which means it is an island made up entirely of broken coral and animal skeletons. Less than 10 percent of the island is sand. The other nice part of the island is that there are no day trippers. Everyone on the island either lives there or is a guest at the resort--except for me.

Half of the island is a University of Queensland research station and the other half is part of the resort. There is a very visible tiered class system. You are either a tourist on vacation, a university student, or a worker.

There are days when my job is frustrating and days when I laugh that I get paid to do it. We designed some houses for University research accommodation and the contractor needed a framing inspection. I flew up from Brisbane to Gladstone and hopped on a helicopter for a 25 minute ride to the Island.
I will admit that I tried to play it cool, as though this was just another helicopter ride to yet another exotic location. The ground crew offered to take a photo of me in front of the helicopter. I happily said yes and could not wipe this cheesy grin off my face.

Some points interest:

-They make you wear an inflatable vest in the event that the helicopter crashes and you successfully hit the water at a speed which does not kill you and successfully escape the long whirling blades above your head. I guess it makes it more sporting for the sharks.
-There are inflatable rafts on each skid of the helicopter. The instances where these are successfully used are probably more remote than the personal life vest. I am sure they are installed merely to ease wary passengers.
-I learned that the rotors of a helicopter spin at a constant speed (approximately 400 revolutions per minute.) The pilot changes the pitch of the blades to create lift. I always thought they varied the speed.

On the way to the island we flew over Wistari Reef which has a tidal lagoon in the center. The water in the middle of the reef is a different color blue throughout the day. It was gorgeous. The photo below doesn't quite capture it.

And this is Heron Island. It is largely uninhabited and there are no buildings above the tree line. You can walk around the perimeter of the island in about 20 minutes.

I was greeted at the helicopter pad by the site foreman, walked to the site and started my inspection. Two and a half hours later, I was done and walked back to the resort bar for the flight home.
That is the unfortunate part of the story. I was in paradise for three hours and spent ten minutes sipping on lemonade and staring out into the ocean yearning for a pair of fins and a snorkel. Timing is important. There are many reasons why I had to go back to work the next day and why I didn't schedule the site visit on a Friday or Monday. They all seem trivial when standing at the edge of the beach.

possums in the attic

Opossum: Western hemisphere marsupial (ugly)










Possum: Marsupial native to Australia (cute)

Apparently, the thing to do if you are a possum is to find a way into the attic space of a house and set up shop.

Step 1: climb across to the roof on a power line or fling yourself on the roof from a tree branch.
Step 2: find hole through the exterior cladding into the roof space
Step 3: scamper across the ceiling at all hours of the night and make scratching noises
Step 4: ???
Step 5: profit

This house and our previous house have had possums living above us and I really don't mind them most of the time. I like to imagine the possom equivalent of Anne Frank writing memoirs about living in the same house as us.

A few weeks ago, we went to the Ekka (the Queensland equivalent of a state fair) and saw a reptile show. They pulled out a six foot long carpet python and informed us that they are commonly found living in the roof space of houses.

Apparently, the thing to do if you are a python is to find an attic with a family of possums and clean house.

Earlier in the week, Mary was chatting with a few moms at Cole's preschool and discovered that there are two pythons living above the classroom and they occasionally sun themselves on the roof. One of them had a suspicious looking bump along its length. The other moms, native to Brisbane, started reminiscing about various places they have lived where there were snakes living in the attic. The general consensus is that snakes are preferred over possums.

This got me thinking about two things:

1. If I was a snake, the perfect place for me to live would be near a continually renewable supply of plump, uncoordinated, oblivious children with apathetic caretakers.
2. Nobody at the school has considered calling a pest removalist.

[Edit: after reading this, my wife informed me that a removalist has been called. But that they are taking their sweet time getting around to evicting the snakes. I was also telling someone at church this morning about the pythons and his reply was: "They aren't really big enough to carry one of the children away, are they? So what are you worrying about?"]

*thank you Wikipedia for the possum pictures

text from cole

On Thursday, Cole asked Mary to send this text to my phone:

"Dear Dad, I love you. I love you so much that you can hear the butterflies flapping in the woods. love Cole."*

That just about makes him the sweetest boy on the planet and my wife the most thoughtful person in my life for sending it.

On a completely unrelated note, I just read this quote:

'Parents are not interested in justice, they are interested in quiet.' -Bill Cosby

Sage words Mr. Cosby. I just realized that, as a parent, I have been neglecting one of the most inspirational philosophical giants of our time when it comes to parenting. My goal for the weekend is to seek out more quotes from Bill and maybe even download a few of his parenting monologues.



*the text was actually written in phone english (i luv u...) but I translated because it seemed to be detracting from the intent.

Meow?

It is not uncommon for our kids to chase each other around the house acting like puppies, cats or lions. Yesterday morning, I witnessed Cora pointing to one of her dolls on the floor and telling Cole: "look. food!" and they both crawled over to the doll and bent their heads down pretending to gobble doll entrails. These are learned responses, so I blame/praise myself for somehow imparting this on them.

But that is not what I am trying to get across in this post because----

--wait, I have to share this. I just heard Mary exclaim: "No! yucky! We do not put noodles between our toes!"

As I was saying. Pretending to be an animal is not abnormal and we even encourage it. The kids and I are often howling or roaring depending on the time of day. What I do find interesting is Cora's recent use of the word 'Meow'. Lately, this has become her word of choice for expressing herself.

'Meee-yow' - I love you.
'Myow?' - I just spilled my drink on the floor. What do we do about this?
'Meow!' - Your request is noted and denied.
'Meyow.' Thank you. I am very happy about the chocolate you have just handed me.
'Meow.' - Yes. I will happily accept your piggy back ride offer.
'Myowwww?' - Can I sit on your lap?

The list goes on, but I have run out of ways to spell the various ways of inflection she places on her pronunciation of the word.

As with most things that Cora stymies me with, I take the "If you can't beat them, join them." approach. I think most conversations can be reduced to a simple: Meow. Try it. You won't be disappointed.

C is for cupcake, that's good enough for me.

A few weeks ago, I was surfing the web, minding my own business, and I came upon cookie monster cupcakes. I showed them to Mary and Cole and that sealed the deal. We had our concept for Cole's birthday cake. Normally, we pride ourselves in coming up with cake ideas, but when you come across something this good, you have to use it.

The more ambitious cake decorator would use a star or wavy tipped piping bag and pipe 'fur' onto the top of each cupcake, but we were being pragmatic. First, the effort:benefit ratio seemed disproportionate. Second, there was a good chance that by the time we handed out the cupcakes, the warmth of the day would ruin the effect. But that doesn't matter because I think Mary's version reduces the cookie monster to his essential elements and succeeds in almost Warhol-like fashion.

Back to the point of this post: Cole turned 5 on the 17th of August.


We had a party at Rocks Riverside park again and enjoyed an afternoon in beautiful weather.

Interestingly, his favorite present he received was a set of knee, elbow and wrist pads. They were intended to keep him from losing too much skin at the skate board park, but he has adapted them to be part of his super hero uniform.

And why not? He now catapults himself from the couch and lands on his hands and knees with relatively little pain. He effortlessly glides across the tile kitchen floor without a bump or bruise. I don't know if his new found trust in safety equipment is healthy or permission to push the envelope even further. We can only keep giving him milk to strengthen his bones and hope for the best because I don't foresee him backing off.


Cole is consumed with creating and making things. He is happy to share his plans with us and enlists us to help him in his creations. However, if we try to come up with reasons why we don't have the materials to make whatever it is that he is trying to build, he will keep grilling us:
-Why don't we just by a big block of Styrofoam and some fiberglass to make a surf board?
-Why don't we use the scraps of wood in the back yard to build a new house?
-You need to find me some wheels so I can make a car that I can ride down a hill really fast.
-Let's make some snow today. I want to slide down a big snow hill. We are going to need really strong boxes to make the hill.

And then there are the times when he has asked us to do something, we have replied with some lame excuse as to why we weren't able to do it and he went ahead and did it at school just to prove to us that we have no vision.

Exhibits A & B:

surf board and guitar (It is hard to appreciate, but the guitar has rubber bands around the box which he twangs.)

Exhibit C:

matchbox car ramp

Exhibit D:

hang glider

And I can't find the photo of him and the parachute he made, but I think you get the point. I also regret not documenting the tow truck Mary had to stuff in the car one afternoon when she picked him up from school.

Where do we go from here? Our resources and tools are currently limited to cardboard, packing tape and yarn. He would rather use titanium, carbon fiber and ceramics as his media of choice. Maybe we should start saving up for a lathe, plasma cutter and a welding machine for his sixth birthday.

two more

I am going to be a little indulgent and post these photos from Sunday. They didn't seem to fit in with the birthday photos.

Cole went to a classmate's birthday party which was hosted by Batman and Robin. Cora and I weren't invited, so we hopped a bus to the Cultural Centre (it is double cultural if you spell it that way).

I am still not a big fan of socialism, but I will admit to reaping the benefits when it comes to civic architecture. Across the river from the central business district of Brisbane, the city planners placed a number of beautiful buildings within close proximity to a large bus station and it is all beautifully landscaped and linked together with South Bank (which, as previously blogged about, is one of my favorite places in this city).

There are too many buildings to list, but the three that top my list are:
-The Gallery of Modern Art
-The Queensland State Library
-The Queensland Art Gallery
The theme being that they are all free and I dig the space they each create.

It was just Cora and me. I do well one-on-one with the kids. With both of them together, I feel like a sheep dog nudging them both in the general direction that we are trying to go. With just one, I can keep tactile track of him/her with a gentle hold of the hand and let my mind and eyes wander.

I find that the attention span of a child in an art museum is equal to one minute for each year the child has been alive. After that, it is just an exercise in keeping them from touching the art. From a different perspective, the building size and detailing are of a monumental scale and they themselves become art. The quality of light in the main room of The Queensland Art Gallery is, in my opinion, an experience in itself. So, Cora running around the corridors is interacting with art on a different scale and I like giving her that experience.

Architecture, of all the arts, is the one which acts the most slowly, but the most surely on the soul. -Ernest Dimnet

Main Beach, the Gold Coast

These are from a month ago when Jim and Jean came to visit us.

It was a chilly winter day, but the sun came out just long enough for us to play on the beach for an hour.

I'll do it myself, dad

Cora officially turned three on the 21st, but we threw her a party on Saturday. And by we, I mean that Mary organized and made all the food while I simply showed up to carry stuff.

Mary came up with another winning cake design. The brilliance of this concept was that we were able to plaster the cake with m&m's and we had to open an additional bag to get enough blue to complete the design. I took the spoils to work with me.

We invited a few families to picnic with us at Rocks Riverside Park and enjoyed ourselves in the sun.


It is hard for me to summarize how grateful I am that Cora is now three. It is just a symbolic mark in time, but it seems to coincide with fairly significant developments in her behavior and growth. We have been going on father-daughter excursions more often and she is able to verbalize her inquisitive nature.

Reason has finally entered the equation. Don't jump to conclusions just yet--our girl is still resolute in her decisions. However, she will now entertain any options we pose to her. So, we now have the tools of bribery and diversion in our parenting arsenal.
She has also been expressing gratitude, which is very sweet to see. 'Thank you' is not just a mechanical phrase we have successfully indoctrinated her with. She now says it with sincerity and at pleasantly surprising times.

Her independence isn't surprising, because she has always been determined to make her own way. "I'll do it myself" is a phrase we hear often. It is a declaration as much as it is a warning to stay out of her way, or wear the consequences.

Good bye terrible two's and say hello to thriving three's.

Bacon

Cole: I don't want eggs, I just want bacon.

me: You need something else in your stomach. Do you know the Spanish word for eggs?

Cole: [looks up at me with unamused eyes]

me: It's huevos.

Cole: Well, what is the Spanish word for Bacon?

100010

My thirty-fourth birthday was on Thursday. It was a long day at work and a few times, I felt the urge to yell into the phone: Dude, back off! It is my birthday and if you don't cut me some slack, I am not going to give you a cupcake.

The day wasn't a total loss however because I received a deluge of "happy birthday" shout-outs on facebook. I also talked with my sister on the phone for an hour in the middle of the day which may have contributed to even more phone calls from high-maintenance projects, but it was worth it.

This year, for me, has been about striving for consistency and constancy. I tend to do things in short intense bursts and then focus on something else. It is a different thing than procrastination, because I am a master at that and I know the difference. This tendency is great for making progress and meeting milestones, but as a strategy it is not good for things like raising kids, being a good husband or maintaining clients.

So I have been trying to even things out. Trying to spread out the good and eliminate the times when I am neglectful or irritating. Consistency is the mark of mastering something; to have the ability to alter performance based on varying conditions to produce a predictable and pleasing result. It is an altogether different goal than training to do one thing for years, reaching the pinnacle, and fading away. The dividends are more immediate and are on an easily appreciated scale.

I have been having trouble writing a list of things that mattered to me this year. There is nothing poignant that really summarized daily life for me other than: good. Things have been really good. We found a nice house to rent in a nice neighborhood and we own comfortable couches. The kids cling to my legs when I come home in the evenings. We eat very well. And most importantly, I think Mary and I make a good team.

The year hasn't been all rainbows and lollipops. We have a new dent in the car, I got a few bloody noses in training when my ego told me I was better than I actually was, and other incidents that have kept me grounded. Mainly though, we have blue skies above us and it is a wonderful feeling. I know it is sappy, but it is too easy to be dismissive and trivialize such a thing.

I miss my family and friends that are so far away from here, but we are living a good life to the fullest.

food, glorious food

We have been cooking a lot of desserts lately. I think this has to do with Autumn weather and kissing beach season goodbye. We feel we can indulge a little more and take comfort in what a beautiful thing butter is. Also, we moved house at the beginning of May and we now have a large kitchen in which to frolic.
I rediscovered how good cocoa drop cookies are. Cole and I were hanging around the kitchen one Saturday afternoon and we both wanted chocolate chip cookies, but we were out of chocolate chips. I looked around and saw that we had cocoa powder and oatmeal and set off to my favorite recipe sites to find a recipe. I didn't have my mom's recipe in my recipe box and it was too late at night to call Wisconsin.
My sisters used to make these in the summer because they were quick and you could chill them in the freezer. I found about six different recipes, and looked them all over and settled on one which included peanut butter. My mom's recipe doesn't have peanut butter in it, but it sounded good and with the main ingredient being oatmeal, it practically made them a health food.
Mary also remembers eating these as a kid, so we greedily squirreled away a pan for ourselves and would sneak cookies from the tray during the afternoon when the kids weren't looking.
---
The other dessert highlight of our month has been the apple tart tatin. It is like an upside-down apple pie that only takes 45 minutes to make. brilliant. I wish I could take credit for this, but we saw the recipe on Australian Master Chef and I had to try it.
Again, this was another evening dessert emergency. We had successfully used up all the cocoa powder in the house perfecting the cocoa drop cookie recipe and there were apples sitting in the fruit bowl.
I cored the apples and set them aside, got my crust ready and then started in on the caramel. My first try is bubbling away in the pan in the picture above. I used butter and raw sugar, which seemed like it was going to work until it quickly turned on me and burned. Raw sugar is a fickle beast not to be trifled with.
After successfully chipping out the burned residue from the pan, I looked up another recipe and used brown sugar and water for the caramel base. It is certainly not as nice as a caramel made from refined sugar and butter, but it worked and we were able to start simmering the apples on the stove.
After the apples have cooked on the stove for a few minutes, I slapped a sheet of pastry over the top of the bubbling apples, tucked them in and slid the whole thing into the oven. twenty minutes later, it was ready.
After it has rested for 10 minutes, you flip the pan over on a plate and if you did everything correctly, the caramel hasn't welded the apples to the bottom of the pan and it comes loose. A perfect blend between a baked apple and a pie.

My cousin the fire walker

My cousin, Diane, is doing a fire walk for charity on June 6th (She told me about this a while ago, but I have been away from the blog lately.) If you are curious about it, head on over to:

http://dianesfirewalk.shutterfly.com/

Personally, I like my feet, so I limit my foot abuse to wearing uncomfortable shoes and jamming my toes in the dark on randomly placed furniture. Diane assures me that it just makes your feet "tingly. like walking on snow tingly." Right.

So, check it out and tell me if she is smiling or grimacing in the photo of her fire walk from last year.

Great moments in the O'Brien household - #476

30 April 2009

"Daddy, this peanut butter tastes different. It is not a good peanut butter."
-Cole dogging me out for buying the store brand peanut butter instead of Kraft.

"blagh"
-Cora spitting the peanut butter out of her mouth.

If only they knew how nice American peanut butter tastes in comparison to the good stuff here.

The kids start almost every day asking for a spoon full of peanut butter. It is one of those things that has sort of evolved into a ritual. It began with me letting Cole dip his finger in the jar as I was making toast and has now become a vital part of breakfast.

Mary and I were thinking back to this photo, taken when Cole was 1 1/2 years old.
Lesson learned: we will keep our cost saving gestures to generic cans of tuna, and shopping at the markets for vegetables. We will not skimp on condiments. Global economic crisis or not.

Oh Jif Creamy, how we miss you.

Toothpaste Bandit

Mary: please don't do that.
Cora: why?

I am at work all day and miss out on many of the fun little moments in our house that happen during the week. Mary is kind enough to send me text messages of the more significant events.

Cole is trying to swing from a piece of yarn attached to the doorknob like tarzan

"There's a tuba in my tummy" -Cole

word to the wise, don't wipe nose after cutting jalapeno.

"Why aren't I flat like a piece of grass?" -Cole

mental note: when listening to iPod, don't suddenly belt out song when daughter is sleeping.

I forgot to tell you Cora has a fascination with shoving things up her nose. Last week peas. Today stickers.

and today's gem: "Another tube of toothpaste bites the dust"

You can't roll toilet paper perfectly back on the roll after it has been pulled across the house and you can't get toothpaste back into the tube. And these are both stealthy types of mischief; you can't hear them happening until the child lets out maniacal giggles. Kids instinctively know these truths and derive disproportionate amounts of pleasure from these activities. How do we explain to her that toothpaste costs $170 per gallon? Is there a cost benefit to us of having 15 minutes of peace and quiet while she is in the bathroom strangling another tube? As far as fun goes, it is probably cheaper for us to send her skydiving.

I can't wait for the day when Cora discovers the wonders of shaving cream. As long as they don't start pasting images of Tigger or Dora the Explorer on men's shaving cream, I think I am relatively safe.

sweet and sour

Cole's fascination with claws has not yet reached alarming levels, but where he gets his inspiration is puzzling.

He is enamored with the movie/cartoon 'Madagascar'. I have not watched more than five minutes of the movie, but from what I have seen, the lion character is not what I would consider ferocious. At least not when compared with cartoon heavy hitters like Shere Khan (Jungle Book) or Mufasa (Lion King). No, Alex the lion--as voiced by Ben Stiller--is his totem.

So he asked me once again to make him claws and he was not to be placated by over sized claws that would bend when he scratched at stuff. He seemed to be satisfied by this design, even though he still was not able to use the claws to shred the walls and furniture.
This photo also lets me show off some nice pink pyjamas we scored from our friends Bindi and Tim. Cora is quite pleased with them.

music meets mythology

Cole: Dad, lets pretend.
me: Sure, can I be a unicorn?
Cole: No.
me: How about a minotaur?
Cole: No!
me: How about a centaur?
Cole: Oh yeah! wait, I will go get my guitar.

The cake of destiny

This has been the year of the chocolate cake for us and I don't think we have been singing a one-note tune. We have explored many different aspects of the fundamentals with regard to chocolate cake.

We were tempted to go with yellow cake and chocolate frosting for Cole's birthday, but we stuck to our guns and persevered on. The final tile in the mosaic fell into place on Tuesday night for Mary's birthday. I baked a cake so dark and rich we had to refrigerate it so that the full measure of its chocolate creaminess wouldn't hit us square in the face. I don't think it is within the reach of human emotion to experience this cake still warm from the oven.

The bad lighting in our kitchen doesn't do this cake justice.

I must confess that this may have been the first piece of birthday cake that I was not able to finish. I looked down on my plate at the half eaten piece as a broken man not able to endure any more fantastic-ness. Maybe it was the three fajitas I ate during dinner that filled me up, but I like to think this cake has the power to satisfy the seemingly unquenchable craving for chocolate.

Oh, I know I tend to exaggerate, but this is the real deal. We were even afraid to give it to the kids. As Cole lay down to bed that night he asked Mary "why wouldn't you and daddy let me finish my cake?". Well Cole, we didn't want to ruin every cake experience you have for the rest of your life. We want you to enjoy a life of color; of shade and shadow, not to be eclipsed by this one recipe.

Where was Cora during all of this? Asleep in her bed. She has been skipping her nap lately and Mary wisely put her down to bed early. The thing we needed less than an emotional two-year-old close to bed time, was an emotional two-year-old who was hopped up on chocolate cake.

And before you ask, the answer is "no." The only way you will pry this recipe from me is if you actually hop on a plane and experience it for yourself. I know this puts the folks on the other side of the puddle at a disadvantage, but think of it as an investment in your chocolate salvation. Mad props go out to my friend Katrina for sending the recipe my way.

my lovely wife

-----
Cole was also in the mood to shoot some photos Tuesday night with mixed results. These are my two favorite. A keen eye will note that he likes the same particular angle for both shots.

mini-wolverines

Cole wanted me to build him some claws. I have no idea where he comes up with some of his requests of me. I think this one was after watching the "Brother Bear" movie and he wanted to be able to climb walls and trees with his claws.

My mind started turning and I was envisioning how I could modify some of his gloves with wire. Then I realized I should use something that will bend when he inevitably takes a swipe at his sister.

I am learning too. I made a pair for Cora as well and she was standing there vigilantly to ensure that her claws were just as savage as Cole's.

Rawr.

Whaaaaaaa!

I wonder what the neighbors think seeing our children chase each other around the back yard with cardboard hands. But then, they are our neighbors and have seen us do far stranger things, this is just in keeping with our regular routine.