A House Divided

What happens when you have one person who grew up in St. Louis and one person who grew up in Chicago who get married and live in St. Louis for 12 years and then move back to Chicago? A Cubs fan rooting for the Cardinals and then Cardinals fans rooting for the Cubs. A tragedy, I know. (Ok, Daddy didn't actually root for the Cardinals this year, but in past years he has.). Liana and Gigi proudly display a Cardinals banner in their room and are now shouting "Go Cubs!" Gah-koe wears his "Cardinal bird" shirt every chance he gets. He too shouts "Go Cubs!" (Though to be fair, during the NLDS he changed who he was rooting for daily). Mommy doesn't want the Mets to win, but also secretly wants the Cubs to win because she likes Back to the Future. So where does that leave me? I technically only lived in St. Louis for a year and a half (though there was a Cards World Series run during my time there) so when people ask me where I'm from, I'm not going to say St. Louis. I do love me some toasted ravioli and gooey butter cake, but Chicago style pizza is far superior to St. Louis style. Except for the provel. Provel, or "snake cheese" as our family calls it, is one of the best things to come out of St. Louis. If only...dare I say it...a Chicago style pizza with provel cheese! Could it be done? Is it complete sacrilege? Can you even get provel cheese in the Chicago area?

Ok, Aunt Louie and Uncle Sock, next time you visit us from St. Louis, you need to bring some provel cheese and we are doing it. Mom actually made a pretty rocking Chicago style pizza the other night for the game, so we have the crust covered--just need the cheese!

Anyway, back to baseball. I don't really care who wins. Most of the games are after my bedtime anyway, and the ones I am awake for I'm going to be a parrot and say whatever everyone else is saying. So, go Cubs!

That's not pizza on my face, just cookie butter, which is actually even better.

Hair! (Not the musical, the stuff growing out of my head)

I come from a family that takes pride in their hair.  My Captain Grandpa Howie has pictures of him with a fro that might put the Jackson 5 to shame.  Speaking of the Jackson 5, my Uncle Jack had big, fat, natural dreadlocks that turned many heads.  My Abba Scott had majestic, long flowing, curly hair that went down his back like a black waterfall trying to find a lake.  There is a picture of him after a hebrew musical production of  Hair where his hair looks massive and impressive.  I will try to find that picture to post.  Robin from camp thinks my dad has awesome hair.  That is the biggest compliment hair can get.  On the other side of my "hair" story is my Mommy-poopy.  She is no hair slouch herself.  She has found this really cool way to make her hair super curly by doing some wacky T-shirt origami thing with her head and when her hair comes out of it, it looks magnificent.  Liana has super thick flowing hair that looks nice in a braid and is easy for me to pull.  Gah-koe, as you can see documented in past posts, had some killer hair before it got cut off the first time when he was three.  I can tell he misses it.  Mommy keeps trying to let his hair grow back, but the grandmas keep stealing him and cutting it. Then there is Gillian whose hair is more golden than anyone else in the family.  I come from a family with great hair.  I would say that we are a hair beyond compare.

Then there is me.  Me and my hair.

To behold my head of hair is to look into the eye of a hairnado.  You can not look directly at my hair or you might go blind.  Albert Einstein and Tim Burton want hair styling tips from me.  My hair is real and it is spectacular.  Shakespeare would write a sonnet about my hair.  Prince was thinking of changing his name to a picture of my hair.  When I walk into a grocery store, all the angel hair pasta falls to the floor.

I have never seen another head of hair like mine.  Let me try to describe it to you.  My hair has never been cut.  When I come out of the shower, my hair is long and wavy.  It is cute, but most toddler hair is cute.  What happens next is awesome.  Watching my hair dry is a thing of magic.  You can see it recoil from its wet state to its dry state.  As it drys it goes up and out.  I develop a todjewfro, (a toddler jewish afro) of super tight bouncy curls that have a mind of their own.  I like to believe that it is the cutest head of hair since the Big Bang.  Not the Tv show mind you, the actual celestial event that created the potential of my hair to exist, and a lot of other things like Carbon, Nitrogen, and Gallium.  (BTW, Gallium is a metal that melts by body heat.  Now you know!)  If I go a day or two between showers, it becomes even more impressive.  It becomes a tight, interconnected hair complex. When I shower, the cycle starts all over again.

All this talking of hair has got me thinking of a favorite song of our fam.   We are big fans of the comedic YouTube duo of Rhett and Link.  Gah-koe might have mentioned their belly button song on here in the past.  It is worth a gander.  The video that I want to reference today is "My Hair Song."  It is an epic ode to hair that takes an unexpected turn.  You should watch it.  It is good.  Below the video are some pictures of my hair.  Be careful,  it it awesome.

It's pretty tame here, still wet from swimming.

My hair in all its glory.

An Amira a Day

My parents were getting nostalgic Monday night as they celebrated Walt Whitman Day (a random holiday made up by Dad and his college friends). As they were looking back through old Facebook posts about the holiday, they came upon Gah-koe's (Gah-koe is Asher for those of you unlearned in Amira-ese) defunct blog. They had so much fun reliving old memories, and since Gah-koe is so busy nowadays with half day kindergarten they decided I needed to continue the tradition so they would have more memories to relive in the future.

Really? I'm the baby of 4. You can't just give me a job. My only job is to be cute enough to be able to get away with not doing anything they want me to do and doing whatever I want instead.  It has been working out pretty awesomely so far. I've eaten GoGurt for two out of the three meals several days in a row. I call everyone by their name followed by "poopy." Mommy-poopy, Daddy-poopy, Gigi-poopy, etc. I watch as much Peppa Pig as I want.

I guess it might be worth a shot to try out this blogging thing though. These days, with all the siblings at school, I have plenty of time to contemplate--in between playing with trains (they are my babies), singing "Let It Go" (from the movie Let It Go, which is mistakenly called Frozen by everyone else), running around in circles with no pants on, etc.  I am like Pinocchio. No, I am not made of wood. Yes, I have no strings to hold me down.  

Gah-koe did a really great job with his blog until he cut his hair.  After that, the blog went downhill. I do not take any ownership of the sudden blog decay by being born. I see no correlation. Adding me to the picture must have given my parents significant extra time to proofread Gah-Koe's writing and do other things. I am excited that I can continue what my brother dropped the ball on. It is like when he drops some food on the floor and I go over and eat it. It makes me think I am a puppy. I think it would be fun to be a puppy. Puppies get to play and eat and sleep and do fun things all day. What if I was half baby/half puppy? Then I would be a buppy, the cutest thing in the WORLD! Wait. Sorry. I went off on a tangent. That seems to be an easy thing to do on this bloggy thing. That reminds me of the time that I started crying and screaming because... You know, I often scream and cry for no reason. It is just a fun game I like to play. I will pick some random task and just scream and cry until my parents guess what it is. I think it is a really fun game. Just last night I was playing this game at bed time wanting my dad, Abba Scott as I like to call him, to do a Gilbert Godfried impression while reading "Good Night Moon." For some reason, he did not interpret my screaming, yelling, and crying correctly and I just fell asleep waiting for him to guess correctly. I guess he won this round.  

Sorry, another tangent. I think I am going to enjoy this blog thing. For new people here, there are a lot of great posts from the past by Gah-Koe, Mommy-poopy, Abba Scott, Gigi, and the other one. Read some of them, they are good and fun.  

I Have Decided to Pass the Torch

Cousin Lee, Fans, Friends, Family,  I have returned.  I know I have been away from my post for a while.  I have been busy.  Since I last posted, I have become proficient at many things.  Talking, bike riding, playing with trains, legos, etc.  I do not want to say that I had forgotten about my sacred responsibility, but I had forgotten about my sacred responsibility.  I tried starting twitter, that failed.  I had a snap chat, that also failed.  Don't get me started on J Date.  Oy!  Needless to say, I left my public in a lurch.  The problem is, I am still too busy.  I am in half day kindergarten.  You would not believe the homework.

So this is my proposal.  My sister Amira, sits around the house all day doing nothing.  I want to expand her mind, help her reach the world.  I am giving her my blog.  She can have An Asher a Day.  I am not going to let her change the name in case I want it back.  So instead of learning about me and how awesome my life is, you will learn about Amira.  I do not know what she has in store, but it certainly will be something.  I will jump in every once and a while, but it will be her thing now. So, here begins the dawning of a new era.  Enjoy.

This is how Amira rolls.

Amira and her scarecrow.  Notice it is wearing underwear outside of its pants.  Amira's idea.

Me and Amira's scarecrow.  There is not a picture of the moment after where I yelled "Finish Him" and ripped the scarecrow in half and laughed.  No, that picture was not taken.

And Nosh Some Hamantaschen

Hamantaschen (or "cookies," as I call them) are a wondrous thing. Especially when your mom and sisters love you so much that they make Samoa-like hamantaschen (here's the recipe--easy and delicious)...and make them during the two-day snow day in which all six of us were stuck in the house. Amira almost didn't make it out of that experience, but we don't like to talk about that. Let's just say, one snow day is a beautiful thing. Two snow days is pushing it. At least we had Plants vs. Zombies to keep us busy. Many zombies were killed. Many brains were eaten. Many trains were thrown at my sisters' heads when it was not my turn on the computer.

But, back to Purim, that's what this post is supposed to be about. I think this was the first year that we all actually enjoyed it. Usually at least one of us is too scared by all the cheering for Mordecai and the booing for Haman and we end up sitting out in the hallway crying that it was too loud. This year was different because during the booing, a dude dressed up like Haman ran around the stage throwing candy at the kids. If projectile candy is involved, I can handle some booing.

I also discovered cotton candy at the Purim Carnival. You can read more about that on my Twitter feed (and become one of my followers while you're there!). My new-found addiction was supported by my bros Paul and Jordan (who are both my friends and sometime babysitters). They were running the snack table and since my parents wouldn't keep buying me more tickets, they were sneaking me contraband goods. They can babysit me any time they want. Just bring the cotton candy machine.

So, that's my take on Purim. Keep the candy flowing and make awesome 'taschen.

I finally wore my Emily costume! (I was also Spiderman.)

On a side note, my dad was cleaning out some boxes from his parents' house and found the program from his preschool graduation. Now we know why he can't spell--he never had a chance.

I'm like a bird...

Ladies and Gents, I have entered the land of Twitter.  And like a bird, I am tweeting a lot.  Problem is, no one is following me.  That is not really true, I have one follower.  I need more.  I thought with my new haircut and my new found zest for a life full of confusion and delay, the followers would flock to me like Justin Bieber who has 34643095 Beliebers or Lady Gaga who has 34239914 Li'l Monsters.  What about YouTube which has 23469118 followers and it is a website where people only watch train videos?  I am much cooler than YouTube.  Actually, YouTube is often mytube, so it is cool.  Follow away my friends, follow away.

Right now, the top ten twitter acounts are

1. Justin Bieber
2. Lady Gaga
3. Katy Perry
4. Rihanna
5. Barak Obama
6. Taylor Swift
7. Britney Spears
8. YouTube
9.  Shakira
10. Kim Kardashian

Twitter comes in at 14.

Now I do not need millions of followers, I am just a toddler.  I would like some.  Besides getting real time updates of my crazy antics, I am planning on starting a new brand in the Asher A Day family:  Asher's Train Tale of the Day (still working on the title).   I have acquired a substantial collection of trains.  They often have crazy antics and hilarity has been known to ensue.  Mom and Amira know what happens on my train table stays on my train table, but now the gag order has been lifted.  The sordid tales now can see the light of day.

Ever wonder what happened between Thomas and Lady after vanquishing Diesel 10?
Why does Henry need special coal?
And what's up with Sir Topham's Hatt?

So, come follow me. @AsherADay It will be awesome.

Making Adjustments

I have to say, 3 is turning out to be a pretty good year so far. My mane has been shorn, so I don't have the weight of all those curls slowing me down anymore--also, people haven't been calling me a girl quite as often. I have almost double the number of trains I used to have (thank you to relatives for my birthday and for craigslist)--they come with me everywhere I go in my special train basket. Plus, with the baby around, I can get away with pretty much whatever I want. Candy for breakfast? Mom's busy trying to feed Amira, make lunches and get the girls out to the bus. Thomas/train videos on YouTube? Mom's feeding Amira and falling asleep on the couch (I highly recommend all the videos by YouTube sensation leokimvideo). GoGurt and chocolate milk for lunch? Mom's working on the computer and feeding Amira. Basically, Amira is always eating, therefore always attached to Mom, therefore I can do whatever I want. And I know where Mom hides all the step stools, so I can reach anything and everything.

Of course, there are downsides to this newly found freedom. Mom always being attached to Amira means I don't get as much one-on-one attention as I used to. Remember, the girls (the big ones) are at school eight hours a day so it was Mommy-and-me time all day every day. I like to think I'm handling this in a mature way. When Mom's doing her work, I take piles of paper off her desk and throw them around the room. When Mom's feeding Amira, I get up in Amira's face and say how cute she is and then whack her in the head. In the late afternoon when I'm feeling especially neglected I take all my clothes off, yell "all naked," and run crazily around the house (this also usually involves peeing or pooping on the floor because they can't possibly expect me to use the potty with all these changes going on). At bedtime I like to lock myself out of my bedroom and then cry in the hallway as Mom tries to get the door unlocked. Also, many trains get thrown at many people's heads.  I think you can say I'm adjusting well.

So, with all this extra time on my hands for causing havoc, I would like to announce the opening of my Twitter feed. Yes, I found the Twitter. It will be awesome.

Contemplating my next move.

Amira is Officially a Person and I am Officially a Boy

It was a busy weekend in our house, with two big milestones. First we had Amira's baby-naming ceremony, in which she officially received her Hebrew name and became a real person. I guess that means we're stuck with her but (and don't tell my parents this) I secretly do like her, so I guess that's ok. After the ceremony everyone kept telling me what a good job I did--apparently everyone expected me to scream throughout the ceremony. Liana screamed through Gillian's baby-naming, Gillian screamed through my bris (as did I), so I was supposed to continue the pattern. I like to keep everyone guessing though, and anyway, I was too busy strutting around and showing off my dapper new look.

What look is that? My new 'do. Yes, my majestic mane is no more. I turned three, so it was time for my first haircut. I think you'll agree, it looks good on me.

Not so sure about this, but at least I have Big Emily (my train, for those of you not familiar with "Thomas and Friends") for moral support.

I am awesome!

I also got to have Birthday Party 2.0 this weekend. The Chicago part of the family was in town for Amira's big day, so even though everyone was actually more interested in paying attention to Amira they gave me a pretty good party. As I said before, if it involves cake, I'm in. Liana actually took on the job of party planner for this event, so we even got a pinata. It was quite terrifying (think: Gillian swinging around a big stick), but I'll do anything for candy.

Yes, that's a Swiffer holding up that pinata.

The only thing that would have made this weekend better is if Gila had been able to make it. Now I have never met Gila, but I have heard stories of her awesomeness from my parents. She was set to be here this weekend (she and my parents have not seen each other in almost 5 years!), but Nemo decided to change her plans. We've always been big fans of a fish named Nemo in this house, so we were very sad that the weather system Nemo let us down.

One last thing: I wanted to give a shout-out to my special lady Addie for her 21st birthday this weekend. Addie was my first babysitter (and coincidentally, my mom babysat for her when she was a baby) so she will always have a special place in my heart. I remember those long walks around the Garbage Trail at camp, hanging out on the kikar and lazy days at the playground. She's on her big world tour right now (currently in Germany), so she's too busy to babysit me now, but I always have hope that she'll come back to me!

Amira is ready to party.

The Big 0-3

Yesterday was the big day, the anniversary of my second birthday. No more blaming my behavior on the "Terrible Twos." It's time to face the fact that I am three.

Where have I been lately, you ask? Well, things have been changing around here. The baby (which, if you'll remember, I thought was just what we were calling my mom's protruding belly button) decided to come out of my mom and start living in our house. That has put limits on my computer time. Not only are Mom and Dad too busy to help me get on the computer, but any time I do get on, the internet is so slow because my parents are using all the bandwidth to email and upload "cute" pictures of said baby.

Ok, she's not that bad. She is actually a cute baby. See:

For those of you who are not Facebook friends with my parents and who missed the announcement, her name is Amira Eve and she was born on January 15 (which means Gillian was the winner of "Baby Watch 2013" and she got her wish, which may now be a curse, to have the baby born on her half-birthday). She is stealing most of my parents' attention, but I still like her, so I guess we can keep her for now.

But, back to me, since I am the real star here. My birthday was awesome. It started with my big sisters (see, now I have to specify "big" sisters or "little" sister) jumping on me in bed. This happens every morning, so it really wasn't anything different. Then I got Yellow Rheneas--Rheneas is actually a red train from "Thomas and Friends" but in the movie "Blue Mountain Mystery," which is my favorite Thomas movie, he gets a new coat of paint, and yellow is my favorite color. Victory all around.

Then I got a party at school, complete with cupcakes and an awesome hat.

After school I got to spend the afternoon at Nana and Gaga's house so Mom could do our laundry. (Because this was the perfect time for our washer to break. Not like we use it that often--now with six people in the family, two of whom wear cloth diapers that need to be washed every few days.) Nana and Gaga's house is awesome because of Gaga's model train set. I am an awesome conductor!

In the afternoon the girls (the big ones, not the little one) gave me an awesome Take-n-Play Thomas set. It even came with Duck and Cranky the Crane. I love that Cranky. The day ended with ice cream and more cupcakes, so it was a pretty cool day. Apparently there will be more celebrating this weekend when the Chicago part of the family will be in town. If it involves cupcakes, I'm in!

Baby Watch 2013

It seems that things are about to change around here. There are lots of tiny pink clothes that are too small for me folded up in my bedroom. There is a swing in a living room. There's some kind of strange rocking basket in my parents' room. Every time anyone talks to my mom, the first thing they say is, "Baby here yet?"

All this leads me to believe that the baby will be here very soon. It is just starting to dawn on me that there is going to be a new, smaller person in our family. For a long time, I just thought "baby" meant my mom's belly button because it kept getting bigger and was fun to poke. But, no, there's going to be an actual baby person. Which means I won't be the cutest anymore. But I will still have the most majestic hair--at least until my birthday in February.

So, it's time for you all to get in on the action. When is this baby going to make her appearance and ruin my life? The official due date is January 13, so today Mom is 38 weeks and 2 days. Liana was born at 38 weeks (but she was born by cesarean, so it's not completely accurate), Gillian came fast and furious at 40 weeks and 2 days and I made the world a more awesome place at 38 weeks and 6 days.

Mom has picked January 3 (because 1/3/13 looks cool), Dad has also picked January 3 (because it's the first day back from winter break with students and he doesn't want to go back to school), Liana has picked January 12 (because it has the same numbers as her birthday, 11/21) and Gillian has picked January 15 (because it's her half-birthday). What's yours?

And here are a bunch of photos, since we haven't posted much lately. (You can see that we were practicing for the baby at the children's museum.)

HAIR HAIR HAIR HAIR HAIR HAIR HAIR

When I am walking with my mom and sisters, it is very easy for someone to lump me into a collective, "you have such beautiful girls."  I could be wearing camouflage  holding my trains in one hand and a sign saying "I AM A BOY" in the other and I will still get called a girl.  Yes, I have very nice features, but they are young boy not young girl features.  What makes people think I am a girl is that I have magestic curly long flowing hair.  It is beautiful.  When people see little people with long hair, they think girl.  But I am a boy.  Grr.

So why do I have this coif a kin to a 1983 prog rocker? All because of that great Jewish Torah Tradition. There is a practice called upsherin, shearing off in Yiddish. Upsherin calls for a boy to not have his hair cut until he is three years old. I am like a beautiful short redwood. I am watered and given light and sustenance (water, love, food). Eventually, I will be the tallest tree in our forest (family) but right now, I am still the world's tallest sapling (a two year old). Jewish law says that a farmer is to leave a newly planted tree unharvested for it's first three years as a gift to G-d. This is why I have not had my hair cut. Getting my hair cut will be a celebration. It will be a step forward where I will no longer be a baby. I will be ready to harvest. That sounds weird. So, sometime in February, probably the 9th, I will have my hair cut for the first time. The big question is what style should I go with? That is where I need all your help. 

So, for the time being, I will look like a little Fabio.  Which is not that bad.  

Felgate, have a better day tomorrow.

Mr. Sandman, Lend me a Train... Do Do Do Do....

Hello Ashfans,  I hope that Buyer's Remorse Tuesday has been treating you fine and that all of your Black Friday, Small Business Saturday, and Cyber Monday purchases were not just impulse buys.  Mom and Dad do not know that I know, but I know that they bought a Soda Stream half off on CM.  I saw the payment when I was trolling their account looking for fraud.  Just something I do for them since they let me crash all by my lonesome in a big room.  I am still a little confused why they are trying to get me out of my three sided transformer crib/toddler bed which I call Matressmus Prime and into my Thomas-Linened Big Boy Bed (TLB3).  Yes, I know that it is for the baby, but to be truthful, I still think that Mom's belly button is the baby.


So since I started talking about beds, I wanted to let you guys and gals in on a secret.  I have found the best and most comfortable way to sleep, ever!  Different people in my family have different thoughts on how to have a great night of sleep.  For Dad, it is facing a wall with one foot out of the covers.  This has to happen or he cannot sleep. When I go and visit them in the night, I like covering his foot and making him wake up almost immediately.  It is funny.

Gillian does not really have a sleeping idiosyncrasy because she is so frantic that by the time she lets herself settle down, she passes out almost immediately.  She squirms around a lot in the wake time though.

Liana was interesting.  When she was little, she would sleep with some stuffed animals.  That is normal.  What was abnormal was that she also needed to sleep on a Baker's Dozen of assorted books.  These were not flat across the bottom of the bed but scattered all nimbly pimbly in the crib.  To add to the "Den of Madness," she slept with an assortment of dreidels.  Plastic, wooden, small, and not so small, they all found their way into this baffling bed.  She eventually outgrew the crib and with it, the books and dreidels.  Now she sleeps with mob of stuffed animals meticulously placed nightly in just the right spots staring at her.

They are all crazy.  I would like to state that I am not.

I choose to sleep with four baby blankets on me,  three stuffed animals at the end of the bed looking away from me, two library books (Thomas, of course) that I sleep on top of, and the piece d'resistance--four to six miniature trains (Little Engine and the car, two circus transport cars, my new bullet train and car from China)--also under me.  I have to be sleeping on these trains.  If I am not, I wake up and start hunting.  Even when I choose to make my parents' night of sleep better by joining them in their bed and kicking or screaming at them, I bring the trains with me.  You should try it.  This is Tots Legit.  I think I have found the holy grail of sleep aids.  Diecast or wooden trains making indentations on your chest as you sleep.  Anybody else doing this?  We should trade trains.

I am Back!

Hello ladies and gentlemen.  Asher is back.  I know that it has been a few months since my last post so I wanted to just apologize.  Like many people, I did not realize the time commitment school was going to put on me.  Boy, school is a lot of hard work.  I get to play with cars and the train table, paint, have snack, and look cute and awesome.  Yes, I only go two days a week, but the homework is killer.

A lot has changed since August.  Mom is much bigger and tireder.  She is preggo, remember.  Small interlude:   Tonight mom and dad went to the hospital to bring Liana into the world seven years ago.  Wow.  Her birth was not nearly as cool as mine.  She did not want to come out and complications ensued   Me, it was like going down a water slide. But on this water slide, I got to go head first.  Happy birthday, Liana, hope you have a nice one.  I will celebrate your day of birth by not monopolizing dad's tablet, forcing you to play train, or hitting you for not reason with a smile on my face.

Everyone knows that I love my trains. They are my peeps.  I will post in the next days about my love of trains.  Just wanted to say.

So, I got my school picture today.  I want to know what you think.  Let me know.  I love it.

Talk to you all soon.

ASHER!

Look at How Cute I Am!

A couple things in the world of Asher a Day:

1. Last night the blog hit 10,000 pageviews. Not bad for a two-year-old in two years.
2. Last night's post was one of the most popular posts on this blog. I would like to think that it's because I am awesome and you love hearing about my adventures. But, I know the truth. It's all because of that picture of the grainy outline of my baby sister. She's not even born yet and she's already more popular than me. What's up with that?

Well, I'll win you back yet. She can't talk or type yet. She can't even exist outside the Mothership yet (if you don't understand the reference, check out last night's post). So here you go. Bask in my cuteness.

Woo woo!

Later, I gave the goat a ride. Really, I did. (I'm sure that picture will come up later.)

Cute. Surly. Asher.

Look, they're already making me look like a girl (or a Samurai, as Dad says).