Quote of the day: Bradley's school sent home "parent reflection" forms. In addition to filling out sections about strengths, goals and concerns, parents are asked to enlighten teachers on the child's needs. One parent wrote: "My child needs some direction. He is not usually an independent worker. I am hoping this will change one day soon and I'll come home to find all my laundry folded and the dinner dishes done."

Quote of the day: I avoid having the television on when Bradley is home so he won't get an earful of bad news and then spend the next several hours in pointless worry. On the other hand, I like to have some idea of the day's headlines before I come to work, so it's a delicate balance in our house. This afternoon Bradley was outside and the baby was asleep. I thought: now's my chance. I turned on Headline News. First thing up: "Shootout in Times Square. 3 people dead." Bradley shouted from the garage: "Where was that? Times Square? That's it. You're not going to work tonight, mom."

Quote of the day: 7-year-old Bradley figures he'll be taller than I am by the time he's in 4th grade. (He's probably right.) It seems he's not completely enthralled by the idea. "I like being able to look up to you when I have a question," he said. "But even when you get old and gray and start shrinking, you'll still be my mom."

Quote of the day: When naptime was over, 23-month-old Gregory groggily pointed in the general direction of a high shelf and made a sad little whining noise. "Do you want something?" I asked. "What do you want?" Pointing at no specific thing, he said, "That." "I'm sorry, Gregory," I said, "I don't know what you want. Use your words and be more specific. Tell me what you want." And then came the answer that will define my life for the next 20 years: With a sleepy drawl, the toddler said, "Everything, mommy."

Quote of the day: We were at a restaurant when 7-year-old Bradley said something that made us smile. I got out my pen and started scribbling on my notepad. "Mom," Bradley said nudging my elbow, "what are you writing? Let me see! Is that going to be the quote of the day? What'd I say? Let me see!"

Quote of the day: 23-month-old Gregory likes to sit at the kitchen table and "do homework" at the same time as Bradley. "Gregory," Bradley said, "when you're 7, you'll HATE homework. Trust me." (I think I had this exact same conversation with my older brother when I was a little kid.)

Quote of the day: As I put 23-month-old Gregory's sneakers on for an outing to Bradley's school, I asked if he would rather walk, or ride in the stroller. He answered, "Yes." "Which?" I said, "Ride or walk?" Again, he answered, "Yes." I should be more specific, I thought, so I said, "Do you want to ride?" "Yes." Just to be sure, I added, "Do you want to walk?" "Yes." (Ok, I give up.) "We'll walk then." "No!" he shouted. "Ride!"

Quote of the day: 7-year-old Bradley needs help putting honey on his pancakes. First he applies butter, then he cuts bite-size pieces, then he waits for adult honey help. When he was ready for the honey one day recently, he exclaimed, "Get ready to rock 'n roll with the honey, man!"  Adding, "If you ever really rocked and rolled with the honey, the house would turn into one big honey bubble."

Quote of the day: We had dinner at The Rainforest Cafe recently. If you've never taken a kid there, be prepared for stimulation overload. Upon stepping into the simulated jungle you will find yourself under a canopy of lush foliage complete with a misting rain and giant salt-water aquariums full of tropical fish. If you are given a table in the middle, you might sit directly underneath an amazingly realistic starscape of the equatorial nightsky complete with shooting stars and twinkling constellations. Or, if seated in the back, you might want an umbrella if your table is near the cascading waterfall. On one side a tribe of animatronic gorillas loudly threatens to take your food while on the other, you might think the life-size elephants are going to stampede. And just when you settle in with your jambalaya salad, lightening flashes, slowly at first, and culminates in a full out crashing thunderstorm. Al this can be a bit much for a 2-year-old. Poor little Gregory was quite overwhelmed. Even though he hadn't finished all of his chicken nuggets, it seemed to us that he was more than ready to go home. When Mike took Gregory out of his high chair, the toddler uncharacteristically lost his composure and began sobbing uncontrollably. I said, "We need to get him out of here. It's just too much." I went ahead to get the stroller ready while Mike followed carrying the despondent child. Later, Mike confided, "You know what Gregory was so upset about?... He was desperate to give his leftover chicken nuggets to the gorillas."

Quote of the day: I asked 2-year-old Gregory what his favorite thing was about his birthday. No time was needed to think it over: "Birthday cake."

Thought for the day: I was sitting in bumper-to-bumper traffic inside the Lincoln Tunnel when the traffic report came on the radio at 1:30 a.m. "Smooth sailing both directions at the Lincoln," he sang. ("Yeah, right," I thought.) At 2 a.m., I was still hanging out inside the tunnel with my newfound bumper buddies. Vehicles trying to get in must have been lined up for a mile. The same reporter sang out again, "No delays at any of the Hudson River crossings right now." My only explanation is that the traffic report at 2 in the morning must be taped earlier in the day.

Thought for the day: Calling out spelling words for 7-year-old Bradley, I said, "fine." Bradley wrote "find." I called out "mine." Bradley wrote "mind." The kid's a pretty good speller -- I had a cold.

Quote of the day: At some point in your parenting life, you will be asked the inevitable Mommy-why-is-the-sky-blue question. 7-year-old Bradley asked that one long ago, and has graduated to more thought-provoking ones, like this one today: "Mommy, do you know why some potato chips are green?" Shrugging my shoulders in anticipation of an enlightening explanation, I said, "No, Bradley, why are some potato chips green?" "Well," he theorized, "you see, sometimes potato chips fall on the ground, and when they do, they get grass stains on them, and then some potato chip worker picks those up and puts them back in the bag, or maybe he might eat one or two. Anyway, he puts them in the bag and then seals it up. My friend, Brian, likes grass-stained potato chips the best. He says grass stains taste good. Yup, that's how some chips are green  --  grass stains." After a few seconds of silence, Bradley added, "Green chips are pretty rare, though."

Quote of the day: As Mike flipped through the phone book, 7-year-old Bradley asked, "Are we in the phone book?" "Yes," came the answer. "Yay!" Bradley chanted, "We're famous! We're famous!"

Quote of the day: When I put 2-year-old Gregory down for a nap, I usually tell him, "Nighty-night. Close your eyes now. It's time for sleep." When Gregory woke from his nap today, he fixed a place for his doll, Zeke, to "sleep" in the crib. He adjusted the blankets for the little "newborn baby" and told him, "Nighty-night." After a pause, Gregory stared at Zeke's wide-open eyes and demanded, "Zeke, close eyes." Of course, Zeke didn't. "Zeke is a doll," I said, "He can't close his eyes." As if in full understanding of the way the world works, Gregory announced, "Zeke not real. Greggy real. Mommy real." With a hint of sadness, Gregory glanced back at the doll and added, "Zeke not real."

Thought for the day: 2-year-old Gregory was playing with magnetic alphabet letters while I ate my dinner. He was throwing the letters down on the floor and sticking them back on the refrigerator in no particular order. When he noticed my plate of food, he came over and put some letters down on the table. Pointing at my mashed potatoes, he said, "Tatoes?" (As in "Give me some now.") I should have known he was going to plead for a spoonful. The three letters he placed in perfect order on the table spelled: "BEG."

Quote of the day: 7-year-old Bradley has decided (for now) that he wants to be a Navy Seal for Halloween, but we haven't decided yet what 2-year-old Gregory will wear. "You could be a bat," Bradley said to his brother. "Do you want to be a bat?" Gregory answered, "Yes." "Or," I offered, "you could be a spider like last year. Do you want to be a spider?" Again came the answer, "Yes." Then Bradley chimed in, "Or, Gregory, you could be an army guy. How about that?" "Yes," Gregory said. Bradley and I alternated suggestions: "How about a cat?" "Yes." "A pumpkin?" "Yes." "An alligator?" "Yes." (I thought: the little guy is pretty open to ideas!) "How about a pile of sawdust?" The toddler replied, "Yes." (Bradley laughed so hard he fell off the couch.)

Thought for the day: I've determined (with yet a grain of doubt) that I am much better at 2nd grade math now than I was when I was in 2nd grade. There is, however, no guarantee that the trend will continue through 3rd grade math.

Quote of the day: While discussing names of the Iroquois Indians at dinner tonight, we decided to give some thought to what our names would be if we were Native Americans. Mike would be "Hunter and Gatherer." My new name is "Writes Her Thoughts." Bradley's is perfect -- "Dances with Fish." Gregory's name will likely change as he matures, but for now we decided on "Plays With Placemat."

Quote of the day: We recently had cake with chocolate frosting on top. It seems as though Gregory does not like chocolate. He curls his hand up under his chin and screeches a whiney "no" if the cake bite you're about to give him has any hint of chocolate on it. Amazed that there are people in the world who don't like chocolate, 7-year-old Bradley said, "Gregory, you can't possibly be my brother. How can you not like chocolate?"

Thought for the day: The toys were so thick on the floor that barely a patch of carpet could be seen. Hoping to remove the dirt and dust that accompanied the toys, I needed to make a path for the vacuum to get through, so I was making my way around the room picking up toys and throwing them in toy baskets. When I turned around to get the vacuum, Gregory was right behind me and the toys were all back out on the floor. (Ugh!) I started putting toys in baskets again, but for every one I put in a basket, Gregory shouted, "No!" and put at least two more back out on the floor. Oh well, so much for vacuuming.

Quote of the day: Gregory is getting good at remembering his manners, and he usually says them in the right order. He just needs to work on not saying them all at once. At morning snack time: "Cookie, please thank you welcome."

Quote of the day: It baffles me how I could be related to someone who dislikes chocolate, how a person born of my lineage could retch and recoil at the thought of being fed even the tiniest of morsels. Yet it's true: 2-year-old Gregory won't even touch the cookie part of chocolate chip cookies. "Chocolate rocks," he calls them.

Quote of the day: On the occasion of his 8th birthday, when the day had nearly passed, Bradley said thoughtfully, "I like the taste of eight."

Thought for the day: As a voter I am touched, humbled, grateful for the so-called personal phone calls I received in the last 2 days begging me to vote for this candidate or that one. I returned home to several messages on my machine from Senate candidates Frank Lautenberg and Doug Forrester. The next morning the phone rang and the kind voice on the line was that of Rudy Giuliani. Being in the middle of changing the baby's diaper, I quickly hung up. An hour later, Laura Bush called! "Laura! How nice of you to call!" (I had a nice long conversation. Too bad she couldn't hear me. Maybe I'll record my response and call her back.)"

Quote of the day: Upon waking, many people have certain routines they must follow, without which they consider themselves doomed for the day. For me, this includes my morning can of diet coke, hopefully with just the right amount of tiny ice crystals floating within. Gregory is naturally curious about the concoction, since he usually accompanies me on my trek to the garage refrigerator where the cans reach near-perfect temperature overnight. Gregory is probably also intrigued since he has so far been forbidden from even tasting a sip. While washing dishes this morning, I foolishly left a can on the table within his reach. As I turned around and observed him mid-sip, he swiftly spit, pronouncing, "Diet coke, yuck."

Quote of the day: 8-year-old Bradley and 2-year-old Gregory are brothers through and through. They even finish each other's sentences. Bradley will be playing with his Lincoln Logs, for example, and he'll say, "Whoa that's . . ." And Gregory will finish it by saying, "Cool." Some days there is a constant chorus coming from the living room when they are playing together. "Whoa that's . . .cool." "Whoa that's . . . cool."

Quote of the day: Gregory was looking through his Halloween bucket for a treat. As he took out pieces of candy, he handed me the chocolate ones, each time saying, "Here's something for you, mom."

Quote of the day: When Bradley returns home from school in the afternoon, I usually ask him what his favorite thing was about his day so far. Today he said it was interesting when his teacher read the class a story from The New York Times. "Did you know," he asked, "that The New York Times is, like, the biggest and most famous newspaper in the whole wide world? Did you know that?"

Quote of the day: Yellow leaves with shags of red and orange carpeted the ground while literally thousands of shiny black migratory birds swarmed the neighborhood. We watched from the windows. The back yard: covered. The front yard: covered. It was exciting to see them diving from the trees, hopping from there to here, squawking in territorial defense. Most were pecking at the leaves on the ground, turning them over, pitching them quickly in the air to uncover what delicate morsel may lie beneath. Our yard, and the yards of every neighbor within sight, had come alive as if an ocean suddenly frothing with frolicking dolphins, leaping from the water and singing for affection. 2-year-old Gregory watched and listened with delight at first, then, becoming frightened by the extraordinary mass of creatures, began shouting, "Go away, birds! Leave!" He kept shouting, but the birds paid no heed. Moments later, a helicopter flying only a few hundred feet above the tree tops gave notice that it was time to move on. The birds took off in a wave of black, covering the sky and leaving behind only the simple breeze of autumn. Gregory looked at me, then turned back to the window, shouting, "Birds, come back!"

Quote of the day: Bradley does not like lima beans. He is asked to eat them anyway, since lima beans are one of the few veggies Mike and I can actually get him to eat. "When you get to be president," Mike said, "you won't have to eat lima beans anymore." Bradley, in that wise-beyond-his-years way, replied, "I have no interest in being in charge of a country threatened to be wiped out by terrorists at any moment."

Quote of the day: As we were walking home from school today, Bradley repeated one of those timeless phrases that you probably heard when you were an 8-year-old. "Watch this, mom," he said as he slammed his foot down on a crack in the sidewalk. "Step on a crack, break your mother's back!" I was ready for it, and instantly screamed, "Oooowwwww!" and grabbed my back in feigned pain, doubling over and falling to the ground. Handing him my cell phone, I said weakly, "Call 9-1-1." "MOM!" he screamed as he fumbled with the phone. "Oh NO! What have I done?" Seeing the little smile unavoidably breaking out on my face, he stood over me, hands on hips, scowling. Jumping to my feet, I said, "Ha. Bet you'll never do that again."

Quote of the day: A CNN reporter, on James Coburn: "He was a man among men when he wasn't a man among women."

Quote of the day: When Gregory was baptized as a baby, he was given a cross by our church, which we hung near his crib. Before Gregory takes a nap or goes to bed at night, we point to the cross and remind Gregory that "Jesus will be watching over you as you sleep." The other night Mike heard the toddler crying softly on the baby monitor. When Mike went in to check out what was wrong, Gregory whispered, "Jesus watching." I guess since the 2-year-old doesn't know Jesus very well yet, he was a little creeped out by the notion that somebody was watching him as he sleeps.

Quote of the day: Bradley loves little league baseball and is excited that sign-ups have already started. "I'm going to play baseball every year," he stated, "until I'm old enough to play in the major leagues."

Quote of the day: Bradley came home from school yesterday complaining of a busy life. "When I retire," he said, "I might have some time to relax." "Let's see," I replied, "You've got about 60 years until you retire." "SIXTY YEARS?" he sighed, "Oh no."

Quote of the day: Friends who live in South America flew up this weekend for a quick visit. So that they wouldn't have to spend their time hopping from town to town visiting the rest of their New Jersey buddies, I had a party for them at my house and invited some of their old friends to come. Everyone offered to bring an hors d'oeuvre or dessert to help out with the preparations, which was great. The night before the party, one of the guests called: GUEST: "Hi Julie. Do you think it would be tacky of me to bring a half-eaten apple pie to the party tomorrow?" ME: "Bring whatever you want. That's fine." GUEST: (sighing) "Oh good. I knew that if anyone would know the meaning of the word tacky, it would be you."

Thought for the day: Connie Fletcher reviewed a children's book about snow in the New York Times Book Review last week. She writes, "You know you're getting old when you hate snow. . . . Once you start saying things like you love snow but you hate driving in it, or shoveling it, or staring at mounds of snow transmogrified into bumpy slush, you've had it. You're old." Change "bumpy slush" to "blackened bumpy slush" and this describes me to a tee. I moved to New Jersey when I was 24. Within a year, I might have said "I hate snow" on any given winter day, summer too. It's settled. I've been "old" since I was 25.

Quote of the day: Bradley, on Thanksgiving feasts: "When my tummy hears that I'm going to eat something it likes, like pizza, popcorn, macaroni and cheese, dinner rolls, turkey, m&m's and Hershey bars, it gets really big. When it hears that I'm going to eat something it doesn't like, like peas, green beans, lobster, fish or broccoli, it closes up and there's no room left."

Quote of the day: A police car sat in the parking lot as 8-year-old Bradley and I drove by Dunkin Donuts on Sunday. "If it were a weekday," remarked Bradley, "that parking lot would be FULL of police cars. Did you know that it's a requirement for police officers to go to Dunkin Donuts at least once a day? Maybe twice. I can't remember for sure."

Quote of the day: Just when you think it's safe to let the baby hang out on an adult's bed for a while, the kid falls off and lands square on his nose or his head or something equally awful, and screams in shear pain. 2-year-old Gregory fell off my bed this morning, so I picked him up and ran downstairs to get the ice pack. Holding the screeching child, I threw open the freezer, and lucky for me, right there, sitting next to the ice cream tub, was the ice pack. So picture this, I was trying to figure out exactly where Gregory was hurt, so as I put the ice pack on his neck, I asked, "Does your neck hurt?" (No, that didn't seem to be helping.) As I put the ice pack on his forehead, I asked, "Does your head hurt?" (Again, not helping.) Meanwhile, between sobs, Gregory was whining something that sounded vaguely like "ice cream." I demanded, "Tell me where it hurts." He pointed to his tummy. "Put ice cream here."

Quote of the day: 2-year-old Gregory was holding a picture of my brother in his hand. While looking at the picture, Gregory repeated, "Uncle Bill, Uncle Bill," and kissed the picture several times. In the other hand was a G.I. Joe doll that he had been playing with earlier. When Gregory remembered that he was holding something in each hand, he held both items at arms' length and studied them carefully, bobbing his head back and forth as if watching a tennis match. All of a sudden, Gregory threw the picture on the floor and gave the G.I. Joe doll a big hug shouting, "Uncle Bill! Uncle Bill!" (Like my brother, this particular G.I. Joe has blond hair and blue eyes.)

Quote of the day: When 2-year-old Gregory wants to be held, he doesn't say "pick me up." Instead, he holds his arms out towards the person he most desires and says, "Hold you?"

Thought for the day: Nearly everyone has a story of some horrible thing that happened to them in 7th grade. Here's mine: A girl named Tiny, who wasn't tiny at all, came to sit at the lunch table where I was sitting across from my friend, Amy. A mental picture of Tiny will help put you at our table too. Tiny was at least a foot taller than all the other 7th grade girls -- boys too. She was on every school sports team that would let her play, and she was always picked first for the kickball team at recess, not because she was popular, but because she was tough and might smack you around if you didn't pick her first. Unfortunately, Tiny also had a chip on her shoulder regarding her name and so she spent many lunch periods harassing anyone who dared approach within five feet of her milk carton. So this one day, Amy and I were having a nice time chatting when Tiny plopped her tray down to my right and said, "I'm sitting here today." As Amy and I moved to leave, Tiny said, "Stay." So we stayed. Tiny said, "Give me your french fries." So I slid my plate over. (I wasn't hungry anyway.) Then I got the notion that it might be cool to show off a little bit, so I took my ketchup packet and pointed it straight at my friend Amy and started gently squeezing. I wasn't intending for the ketchup packet to actually squirt ketchup on Amy. I was just threatening, that's all, and giggling, the way 7th-grade girls do. Suddenly the ketchup packet burst open and squirted all of it's contents out of the SIDE of the packet and all over TINY.

The single most important lesson I learned in 7th grade is that ketchup packets are extremely unpredictable.

Quote of the day: Bradley is hoping he will fail 2nd grade so as to be required to repeat it. "Come on, Mom," he said, "Third graders get 10 minutes less recess than 2nd graders."

Quote of the day: I got a lot of responses regarding yesterday's quote about Bradley's desire to repeat 2nd grade ("3rd graders get 10 minutes less recess than 2nd graders"). It seems a lot of us adults agree that his priorities are in perfect working order.

Quote of the day: Bradley drew a picture of a turkey. He pasted the turkey on a paper plate along with a poem he wrote called, "Don't Eat Me." "I don't think I would make a good dinner because /I drank some poison the other day /and I also ate some thorn bushes with daisies on them. /I am too feathery for you. /I really think you should have some chicken or something."

Quote of the day: A magnetic wipe-off board, made in Japan, cautions, and I quote: "Caution: To clean the surface, use water wipes or with a detergent, do not use wipe surface with as for the medicine such as paint thinner. Also, don't scratch it with the thing that a stiff thing and a point became sharp, the scrub brush, and so on. Please confirm that the wall in the weight of this board fully, when you hang it on there. Don't put the things which breaks easily under the board hanging. Also, do not sleep under it."