NJ2LA: May 2012

This is a story about a boy and his frog.

When I was about eight months pregnant with Arlo, I was walking through the toy section of Target on one of those "what do I need for the new baby" shopping trips. I think I was actually in the toy section looking for a "big brother" gift for Oscar from the new baby. But then I saw him.

Short and green with a yellow belly and blue spots on his back. Smiling out at me, with four sectioned fingers on each hand and three toes on each foot. He was constructed cleverly; his fingers, toes and bottom were weighted down with sand to make them distinct and heavy. He charmed me, and I bought him for the baby in my belly. He was $9.95.

Oscar had a blanket ("wubby") that he loved. I knit it for him before he was born -- a big, snuggly, loose-knit blue chenille blanket. Oscar loved it and pulled it to pieces. I eventually took to knitting him small washcloth-sized versions so he'd always have one. He would pull them apart and rub the fuzzy chenille against his lips when he needed to be comforted. He grew out of "wubby" after Arlo was born, but not before the moment he met his baby brother. Oscar walked into my hospital room with my dad, hugged me, and I took Arlo out of the bassinet. Oscar peered into his brother's face, patted his belly, gave Arlo his wubby, and looked up at me with those big brown eyes and said…

"Can I eat my goldfish now?"

We christened Arlo's frog "Froggy Friend." Froggy Friend sat in Arlo's nursery for a couple months, but it took him a year or so to attach to him. And attach he did.

This is Arlo, at about 20 months old. Froggy Friend is in his crib, waiting for bedtime. It's the earliest photo I have of Frog.

I went back to Target and bought another Froggy Friend, christened Froggy Friend's Friend. We swapped them out so if one needed to be in the laundry, another could emerge from the hiding spot in my armoire.

Eventually Arlo figured out there were TWO Froggy Friends. When he was having a rough week, he would have Double Frog Friday, and he could sleep with both Froggy Friends.

Arlo's 2nd birthday, standing proudly in front of his Thomas bed and swinging Froggy Friend.

At a hotel in Philadelphia, going to a Star Wars show.

Oscar's fifth birthday.

Sometime around Lucy's birth, Arlo lost one of the Frogs. We thought he might be hidden in a snowbank, but the thaw came, and he was nowhere to be found. At that point Target had phased out that line of stuffed animals, and even though I checked every time I was there, I never saw another Froggy Friend. So then there was one.

Lots of family naps.

Showing off new haircuts.

Oscar took lots of blurry pictures of Frog.

Arlo's first day of preschool.

In Seattle, at the Fremont Sunday Market.

In Pawling, NY -- my parents' house.

It's hard to say just how much Froggy Friend was part of our family. Every extended member of the family knew him. Frog travelled to Texas, New York, Maine, Martha's Vineyard, Cabo St. Lucas, Northampton, Princeton, Rochester, Seattle, California and Florida. He attended countless birthday parties, movies, and family trips. Every adult that worked in our preschool knew him, and there were many, many times when I got a call from school telling me that Arlo had left Froggy and this or that local parent or teacher would be dropping him off. They knew that when Arlo was feeling "off," he needed to cuddle Frog, rub Frog's fingers against his nose, and retreat for a minute. And then he would be okay, and ready to move on (with Froggy Friend in hand, of course).

Of course, Arlo's love of Froggy Friend spilled out into the rest of our lives. Every zoo we went to, we needed to find the frogs.

This was the first drawing Arlo ever did that wasn't a person or Godzilla.

Visiting the frogs at the Asian Grocery.

Outtakes from Christmas card pictures.

Frog had lost a nose at this point.

Did The Goose love Froggy Friend? Oh yes. Arlo was cautiously generous with Frog.

And then we found out we were going to move to California.

Evan and I made a quick visit out to Burbank to spy out potential neighborhoods. I snapped these pictures on our way to the airport so I'd have them on my phone.

A few months later, we took the kids to California to gently introduce their new home to them. We spent a few days in Burbank, visiting apartments, open houses and schools, and then a couple days in San Diego in Legoland -- a total bribe on our part.

Arlo, Froggy Friend, Oscar and The Goose at the hotel in Burbank on our Family Fact Finding Trip

Asleep at the hotel after a visit to the Warner Bros. Lot

Arlo was born in New Jersey. Our house was the only home he'd ever known. He had friends and family and surrogate mamas galore. He always had a hard time with change; I was already dreading the transition to kindergarten. But then he had to wrap his wee little five-year-old mind around our move to California, and we were going to leave our house, our family, our friends, the elementary school he'd been expecting to attend, the town pool he spent every summer day at.

A soggy Froggy, left out in the rain overnight in the back yard.

Evan left South Orange July 5, 2011 for Los Angeles. He settled into temporary housing and tried to find us a home to rent, all while getting used to his new job and being away from his family. He was pretty miserable. For his birthday, I hired my friend Michael to take pictures of the kids in our beloved backyard, so we could have some photos to remember. Froggy Friend ended up being the star of the photo shoot.

This is the photo I had printed and mounted on canvas, 18 x20, and shipped to Evan.

It hangs in our living room in Burbank.

This is the last photo I have of Froggy Friend. Arlo is holding him in our "staged" house, ready to be sold.

My folks picked up my kids the day the movers showed up. They brought them down to Red Bank for one last visit with their cousins, and then swung back to see the house packed up. There was one problem: Arlo didn't have Froggy Friend.

The movers unpacked a couple boxes and found his plush Godzilla monsters. But it was time for my folks and the kids to get back to Pawling, and I promised Arlo I'd find Frog.

I didn't find Frog.

I spent another day (and a night at a hotel) packing up our lives in NJ and didn't find Frog.

I drove to Pawling, convinced Arlo that Frog was in a box somewhere, and that we'd meet up with him in California.

We moved to California, unpacked more boxes than you can imagine, and couldn't find Frog.

Honestly, I think I was more upset than Arlo, who seemed to accept that Frog stayed in NJ to make sure our house (and the parrot that moved in) were okay. But Evan and I continued to rustle through storage boxes looking for Frog. Every week, I'd search online. I'd search on Ebay, and Etsy, and through Google Images. And there was nothing.

Arlo had a really hard time with the move. For a kid that loses his mind when plans change to get ice cream after the pool instead of AT the pool, moving to corporate housing and then to a rental house was brutal. Day-to-day, outside the home, he holds it together, but at home, he explodes. He takes out his immense frustration on Evan, and mostly me. I understand. I have to hold back all my tales of woe until the kids go to bed and then unleash them on Evan. It stinks.

But days turn into weeks, and then into months.

And now Arlo is a tall 6-year-old, and he has a whole menagerie of stuffed animals. He shows a real affinity with animals. Arlo meets every single dog we see with a polite "May I pet your dog?" and he eventually ends up in a full-body hug with the dog. He chases our friends' cats about so he can eventually cuddle and play with them . (No matter how offstandish the cats are, they always fall for Arlo.) We got The Goose blood tested, and she seems to have grown out of her brutal allergy to cats. So, hopefully, God- and Landlord-willing, we will get a cat when our summer travels are over.

But then my friend Suzette posted a couple old pictures from 2010 on Facebook, from our preschool's yearly fall trip to the farm. And there he was.

I did my normal, parental gasp. He was so young. He was so yummy. Oh man, I miss Froggy Friend.

So I went over to Ebay and searched for "stuffed green frog."

And on the first page of results, this is what I found.

Friends, I gasped. It was the morning of the last day of school, and I called my husband over to see, and we both gaped. And then we entered our paypal information and bought it and paid extra for quick shipping.

Froggy Friend should show up to our doorstep tomorrow morning. Check in tomorrow for an update.

So, a couple months ago, Evan was told that there was going to be an art show involving DC characters in honor of their new charity, We Can Be Heroes. He cracked his knuckles, dug out his acrylics, and did a few paintings. The first one was exactly what he wanted to be.

Batman on the Beach.

Evan also did a painting of Swamp Thing that was in the show. It was very heavily curated. The show was a big deal, and we are very proud of Evan. I wasn't able to see it before it packed up to go on the road, but Evan took a lot of pictures and shared them with me. And you.

These guys were made of Legos. Awesomesauce.

Evan loved these six paintings. They are fun, right? I love the Ponyo-ish wave with the eyes.

This image was featured in lots of the promotional material for the show, and for good reason.

This 3-D piece was done by Evan's associate art director, Brian, using their Killer Croc figure. It's pretty frickin awesome.

Adventure Time-ish Aquaman. Seriously? Everyone loves Aquaman.

Gotham woodcut (I think).

Evan said this was one of his favorites, titled "Aquaman is Good with Dogs." Seriously, everyone loves Aquaman.

There were lots of beautiful Wonder Woman images, but this was my favorite. It has the same faceless quality of that Superman piece above that gives the viewer the ability to identify with the hero.

And here's my sweet babboo, in front of his painting. Isn't he fine?

We had some other exciting artist news for the family. A while ago, the editor of Green Lantern Adventures reached out for some fan artwork to fill out the art pages in the back of the book. Oscar and Arlo were agreeable, and a week ago, the issue appeared. Now, Evan and I have both had our names in the credits of comic books, but this was a big deal.

Our sons are published artists.

Arlo's piece -- he decided to cross out his name and put his daddy's, since it was for daddy.

Oscar knows what he's doing -- he introduced a storyline and a cliffhanger.

Needless to say, I am hugely proud of my guys.

This past Thursday was the last day of school. (For those of you on the East Coast that are horrified, we start school August 13.)

Arlo has emerged out of kindergarten with a successful IEP and the happy news that his beloved (and experienced and smart and savvy) teacher will be teaching a combo K-1st class next year, and Arlo will stay with her. He is not a kid that deals with change well, and the move to CA away from all our friends and family has really shocked Arlo down to his core. He is pretty miserable and he takes out his discontent on Evan and I. Arlo thrived in his mixed-age preschool, and I think that another year with this teacher with opportunities to be the "big kid" will be exactly what he needs.

He also emerged out of kindergarten with some good friends, and I will be working my tail off this summer to encourage and nurture his friendships. It's harder out here, and I don't know why.

Oscar was let out a couple hours after Arlo. He was also blessed with a creative, committed teacher this year. I know I say this all the time, but we really lucked out that we landed at Bret Harte.

Friday Evan was off and we puttered about. I finally broke down and got my California license. The written test was agonizing!

Saturday, we hosted the DC Bachelors for a BBQ. Since Evan is one of the few married and settled guys in the chunk of DC that moved out from New York, we feel the need to grill them a good meal now and then, plus we provide a civil service to them by letting our children run ripshod all over the place. Bratwurst, beer, slaw, and birth control in one fell swoop.

Our friends Michelle and Kir brought their kids and they added to the glorious ruckus. After most everyone left, we had a grand chat with some transplanted NJ comics friends. We need to schedule some kind of book club so we can do this more often. Slowly but surely, we are clawing out a village here.

Sunday, we met old friends at the Santa Monica Farmer's Market. Betsy and Trevor was in town for a wedding, and we hadn't met their 22mo, Owen. He was, predictably, delicious. He was just the age of The Goose when we celebrated Betsy's sister's wedding a couple years ago in Brooklyn, and Betsy spent the entire time crawling all over the park with The Goose, and I predicted that they would have a kid soon and be awesome parents. I was right on both accounts.

The Market was amazing. Pony rides!

Petting zoo!

There's sweet Owen and his doting Mama.

The goats were pretty friendly, but there were a couple ducks that were having none of it. These were some badass ducks.

They nipped me and ran from the other kids. But it seems like Arlo is the Duck Whisperer.

They followed him around and hissed at the other animals trying to get his attention.

Eventually he made his way to the chickens, one of which had just laid an egg.

The girl running the petting zoo instructed Arlo to crack it gently and leave it for the chickens to eat. It was like an abomination!

There was an incredible band. In between sets, they let the kids play their xylophones. The music was exciting and thrilling and their happiness was infectious. It was the perfect background music.

Oscar manhandled gigantic artichokes.

There was plenty of amazing and cheap food. Oscar and I shared a plate of rice and beans and a mole chicken tamale. The Goose ate a gigantic pancake.

The boys played with a drawing machine.

We sucked it up and got their faces painted. You can only put it off so long. I will just have to keep these pictures on my phone so the next time we're at the zoo or park or where ever, I can prove to them that yes, sometimes we do let them do this kind of stuff.

We walked down to the beach. The road was lined with darling and expensive beach cottages.

The beach. It was another one of those times when I cursed California for being so goddamn beautiful. It was late May, 70 degrees, there was an ocean breeze. People were smiling and enjoying themselves. Stupid beautiful California.