Mom, Are We There Yet?

That tornado running through Party City today? Yeah. That was my kid.

2009-09-03T20:56:00.004-04:00

Yes. Today my kids were those kids. Those kids who were practically out of control. And I was that mom. That mom who let her kids run wild in a public place. Only I wasn't by myself. I was with another mom. And her kid was just as unruly as mine. Not that that makes it any better.

Today I saw Sunshine totally devolve from that sweet, quiet, respectful kid that I often suspect is actually older than her birthdate would suggest; into a whining, petulant 4 year old. All in the interest of doing exactly what her friend was doing. I saw mob mentality in action. And no matter how many times I told her to lower her voice or to come back to me, she did not listen. I practically had an I will not be ignored, Dan moment, and she still didn't listen.

I can't believe that I didn't drag her puny butt back home. I can't believe that I didn't cancel the joint birthday party that we were out shopping for. I failed her today. And it's too late to go back. I will not get that little opportunity for a lesson back. At least not for a while. Because it will be a while before I take her out with me again. And we will most certainly not be accompanied by a friend.

I've been listening to the controversy surrounding the man who slapped a 2 year old in Walmart because she was crying. And when it comes to crying 2 year olds, I think that there is very little that you can do. And, not knowing most of the circumstances, I think the best that mother could have done would be to finish her shopping as quickly as possible and leave. Because a 2 year old will not necessarily understand leaving, and because leaving is probably what they want most of all. And that would be rewarding the behavior. (And just an aside... if that man had slapped one of my kids? Well, let's just say that he wouldn't be walking away, and he would be minus a set of balls. No one hits my child. I don't hit my child.)

But my kid was 4 not 2, and she was acting like a turd. And so was I. It was my responsibility to leave. I'm usually so hypersensitive to those around me. I have no idea what I was thinking.

I'm not going to beat myself up over it anymore though. Sunshine and I had a long talk about how she didn't have to (AND SHOULDN'T) do what a friend was doing if it was wrong. And what proper store behavior looks like. And what will happen if I ever see her behaving like this again. And that she's tremendously lucky that I didn't cancel the birthday party.

And I hope she got the message, because next time? Next time, I will not be ignored.

Memories

2009-08-28T18:21:00.002-04:00

I have this one really intense memory. Well, if you ask my Mom, she'd tell you that I have lots of memories. That I'm practically an elephant and peanuts are my favorite snack. And I do. I have a fabulous memory for all things associated with my childhood. Now the location of my husband's keys, or perhaps what happened 20 minutes ago, those memories aren't so strong.

Anyway, I'm digressing. Back to this memory. I was just a bit older than Sunshine is now. And I believe we were living in Charleston. My mom was getting ready for a bunch of ladies to come over to the house. Probably the ladies she worked with, but I'm not certain. I really wanted nothing more than to be with my Mom in the kitchen, and I happened upon this wonderful idea of cleaning the sink. I could make it beautiful, and I could be there in the kitchen with my mom. Maybe if I were useful, I wouldn't get relegated to my room to play.

So clean the sink I did. Scrubbing. Bubbles. Hot water. I remember being so proud of myself, exclaiming to my Mom that everyone would see how beautiful the sink looked, and that they would know that I cleaned it. She completely agreed with me, and didn't fail to tell everyone who came that it was I who cleaned the sink.

That memory came flying back to me tonight as I was cooking dinner. Sunshine got up on her stool and suggested that she could clean our sink. She put all her heart and soul into cleaning that sink, much like I remember doing myself. And she was so proud of herself when she looked at the finished product.

And because we don't have anyone coming over to our house tonight... I'm telling you all. Sunshine was the one who cleaned the sink tonight. She worked so hard on it, and she is so very proud of herself. And so am I.

See One, Do One, Teach One

2009-08-27T15:19:00.004-04:00

To My Wonderful Husband? Boss? Partner? (Damn. It gets confusing when some of those lines get crossed.)

I think I'm ready to quit. I think I've tried really hard to help you. I was somewhat understanding when you demanded that I get letters out on a Sunday morning. Because hey, even though the Post Office is closed and those letters won't get sent until Monday morning, they absolutely must be ready on Sunday-freaking-morning. OK. So maybe I wasn't all that understanding. But you get the point. You did finally concede that it was probably the wrong time to get them out. But only after I sent you a few passive aggressive murderous looks while typing away on the computer, listening to the children run wild, and thinking about the nasty breakfast dishes that were awaiting me while I worked on your letters.

But this? This is just downright obnoxious. You ask me complete a relatively important task, but you only give me part of the information required. You want me to figure it out on my own. Because apparently it's important that I keep my brain functioning. Which would be fine. If I had four hours to figure it out on my own. Four hours where I wasn't listening to one or both of my children yell that they wanted to play games, pee on the floor, pee in the potty, eat an ice cream, or just to please, please, please put down the computer because they hate the computer. But frankly, I'll be damned if I spend so many precious hours on a project that you will toss when I show it to you because it's not what you wanted. It's called training, dude. And I could use a little bit of it. I don't throw my kids off the deep end to teach them how to swim.

And honey, if you want a letter. Say L-E-T-T-E-R. If you want a form. Say F-O-R-M. No more of these amorphous emails. Clarity. That's where the law is headed. Embrace it. Practice it. Love it. For the love of God, and your tired, slightly overwhelmed wife.

Seriously? I don't want to quit. And I do want to help. But I've got two active kids, a house that doesn't clean itself, breakfasts, lunches, and dinners to cook, laundry to do, school meetings to attend, carpool to do all by myself (because YOU conveniently planned early meetings all week). I just don't have the time to figure out what you want. Just freaking tell me. Spell it out. I know you've got a ton of work to do too, but we'll be a bigger help to each other if we aren't resentful.

OK. Rant over.

***

This was the first week of school. Hallelujah. Sunshine was ready. I was ready. I think that I must have repressed the memory of what school mornings could be like though. And it's not over arguments about clothing or hairstyle. Sunshine and I? We just move at two different rates of speed. And I hate to be late.

***

We're turning Ladybug's world upside down. Last week it was the sippy cups. They're gone. Every single one of them. Really, she just got in the habit of losing them, or hiding them for me to find later, usually still filled with congealed milk. But we've been freed. And Ladybug has been tethered to the kitchen table. Well, she is if she wants something to drink. This week though, it's the diapers. If I've any hope of Ladybug being ready for school in January, it's time. Of course these changes are exponentially increasing the amount of mopping and laundry I'm doing. Fabulous. No matter what I do I create work for myself.

First day of school goodness. Sunshine is thrilled to go. Ladybug wants to go so badly. Soon.

I so knew this was going to happen. And I have a bruise on my butt and a knot on my head to prove it.

2009-08-19T12:20:00.004-04:00

I knew this was going to happen. A little background perhaps. I have two small children, one of which who is learning how to use the bathroom. It's messy business, raising children. Consequently, our little bathroom downstairs, the one all of our guests use, often smells like I have two children who use the bathroom. I hate it.

A little while ago we were staying with some family who had a delightful pomegranate oil with reed diffusers in their bathroom. It smelled so good. Surely something like that could improve our little bathroom. Right?

But I knew it. The kids could never leave it alone. As I was purchasing one, watching the saleswoman scan the UPC code, I knew its days would be numbered sitting on the top of the commode (which by the way is one of my least favorite words in the English language). But such was my desire for a pleasant smelling bathroom that I bought it anyways.

So yesterday it was placed in the bathroom, and proceeded to work its magic. The bathroom was smelling just delightful. Such a lovely combination of pomegranate and mango has never been smelled before in our house. I knew it was too good to last.

And I was right. I knew it. I heard one of the two little mischief-makers fooling around in the bathroom. And I heard some glass fall to the floor. Forgetting that there was a lot of (expensive) oil in said glass container, I ran into the bathroom and... wait for it... I totally bit it in the oil. My feet went up, my rear went down, my head slammed onto the floor. So there I was: bruised and covered in pomegranate mango oil. And now my bathroom? Well it reeks of pomegranate mango oil just about as much as I do. And the floor? Well lets just say that I'm still slipping everywhere.

The moral of the story? I don't think I can have nicely smelling things until my children have left the nest. Sigh. It'll be a while.

Strangely Weird and Weirdly Strange Part 1

2009-08-17T15:22:00.004-04:00

Sometimes I think I'm surrounded by quirkiness. Ladybug HAS to sleep with two extremely hot, fuzzy blankets. Said blankets must be perfectly straight. Heaven forbid they fall because there will be hell to pay. Oh, and baby. Or WaWa as Ladybug likes to call her. WaWa has to be tucked in next to Ladybug, under her own blanket, but not disturbing Ladybug's blankets. And the water? Oh, the water. It must be ice cold. And tucked neatly under the fuzzy, hot blankets. Afternoon sleep will only occur if all of the above stated conditions are met. But sometimes not even then. Today being one of those days.

The fearless Ladybug. The one who bravely climbs to the top of the playground equipment all by herself, sliding down poles and slides that her sister is hesitant around. This fearless Ladybug squeals like the little girl that she is if she thinks that a bug might even be in the nearby vicinity. I have to try so hard not to laugh, because that would embarrass her. But seeing her throw back her head and howl THE BUG! THE BUG! is funny beyond words.

Sunshine is no less quirky. It starts every morning with the panties. Should she wear these panties? But she might want to save them for a play date. And does the pink in this pair match the dress that she wants to wear? The pattern doesn't matter, just the color. Stripes with polka dots? Great, as long as they have the same color. Then it's the outfit. She wants to be pretty, but not messy pretty. I'm still not sure what messy pretty is, but I'm fairly positive it's an unintended consequence of our infrequent America's Next Top Model rerun watching. Daytime TV really is lousy. But it's better than her walking up to someone on the street and asking if they know who their baby daddy is. I do have standards.

She likes her drinking water served warm, and her shower water cold. I know. She can't possibly be my kid, right? She'll devour weird seafood like squid and octopus. But chicken? Only when Mars and Jupiter are in alignment on the 2nd day of the 5th month, and it's raining. She keeps me constantly on my toes. I just never know how she'll respond to something. Today she spent much time telling me that she wanted to be a mom and a cook when she grows up, but only if she doesn't have to have any children. Because then her tummy would grow big, and so she just wants to be a mom to dog children. Apparently having a big tummy would not be messy pretty.

And that brings me to my dear husband who also always keeps me on my toes. Apparently our laughing over the photo I posted on Saturday was supposed to tell me that he didn't want me to post it. Ooops. Must have missed that. Selective hearing, you know. So, honey, this is for you.

*Sorry, Mom. But you have to admit, we do look a lot alike!

Honey, You Had To Know I Would Post This.

2009-08-15T16:07:00.005-04:00

I have it, folks. Proof positive that my daughter's posing is descendant not from occasional screenings of America's Next Top Model...

But from her Dad.

I'm sure I will pay dearly for this. But man, I love genetics and flipping through old photos.

What I Wouldn't Give For An Instant Teleportation Device

2009-08-11T14:27:00.003-04:00

We're almost there. Tomorrow we leave on what will be the longest leg of our journey, but it will be the one that brings us home. We've had such a wonderful time, but I can barely contain myself. My own bed is calling, and I can't wait to get the children back into the completely dark room that keeps them sleeping beyond 6 am.

The trip home tomorrow should be interesting. I'm knee deep in a fantastic book, which likely means that I will ignore the pleadings of my children for something to drink, and when are we going to get there, until they are so loudly high-pitched that dogs 10 miles away are cringing.

We'll probably be leaving at around 4 am, which means I get to drive the first shift. I love that time. The car is (usually) quiet, and then I can turn on NPR at 5. I should get an hour or two of Morning Edition in before my husband wakes up and starts muttering about bias in the media and the kids come out of their early-morning stupor and start demanding, not requesting, liquids. I'm really tempted to put tin foil up over the kids' windows to keep them quiet a little longer. And what is it about road trips that encourages my children to drink as much as possible? I don't serve salty snacks. Really, I'm just trying to avoid stopping at every nasty gas station between New Jersey and Atlanta. You'd think they were camels and this is their only opportunity to drink for the next 30 days.

We'll stop for breakfast, and people will stare at me a little funny because Good Lord, it's 9 am and those children are out in public, but still not out of their jammies. What kind of mother am I? And then I'll be able to relinquish the driver's seat which means I'll finally be able to get back to the book that I haven't been able to put down for the last 2 days.

The rest of the day will be spent fending off requests for drinks, begging the girls to keep their feet to themselves, passing out gummy bears to stave off grumpy attitudes, and trying furtively to sneak looks at my book while my husband looks at me out of the corner of his eye, wishing I would put it down and keep him company. And yes, the book really is that good. There will also be a very healthy smattering of Ladybug singing I like to move it, move it. Because we were smart enough (?) to rent Madagascar 2 for the trip from VA to CT.

With luck we should be home by bedtime. Just in time to attempt to convince the girls that it is indeed time to go to bed. Any bets on how likely that scenario looks?

We're leaving (not) On a Jet Plane

2009-08-04T07:02:00.003-04:00

Oh my G-d. I am packing for a trip with four different destinations and I think my head may just explode from the logistical nightmare of it. Snacks to pack. Toys to pack. Things for the beach. Things for a garden party. And how many pairs of shoes do I need? The entire summer contents of my shoe wardrobe? Sure. Why not? Because hey, we're not flying on an airplane. But we are driving in a car 36 freakin' hours. Not all at once, of course. But I don't think that matters to the kids. One hour in the car is just the same as the next. And I think I may need to relax my 2 movies/10 hours driving time rule because I just don't think I can handle the whining. Red Box, anyone?

Sigh. Breathe.

Repeating slowly to myself. There are stores where we are going. If there's anything we need, we can pick it up. There are stores where we are going. If there's anything we need, we can pick it up.

I will inevitably spend the first part of the trip worrying. Did we actually set the alarm? We didn't leave any of the windows unlocked, did we? We did let the cats out of the bathroom that we stuck them in while we packed the car, right? They didn't get outside, did they? And the lights. We turned them all off, right? And shut the curtains. Did we leave the water running? 'Cause hey, we left at 4 am. Who the hell knows what the house looked like?

And then 8 am will roll around, and I'll be able to call our lovely neighbor. And she will assure me that everything is in perfect working order. And I will be amazed, because hey, we left at 4 am. And of course we had to watch True Blood the night before so we didn't actually get to bed until 11 pm.

And I think this is where anti-anxiety meds just might come in handy.

Back to packing and that mental list that I'm making that just keeps getting longer and longer. Underwear, nighttime diapers, pull-ups, swim diapers, bathing suits, dresses, laptop, charger, phone charger, makeup (Although why this? Because I never use it...), pictures, presents, alcohol (not to be used while driving, yes, I know), blankets, pillows, ...., ...., ....,

I feel pretty, oh so pretty...

2009-08-02T15:38:00.004-04:00

Lately I've been getting too many peeks at my daughter's rapidly approaching adolescence. I'm mean she's four, almost five, with the attitude of a 13 year old. This should be the fun, inquisitive stage. Not the moody, emotional stage where she'll stamp her foot, growl (yes, this kid growls), and slam her toys down at the smallest perceived slight. She's a tiny little emotional roller coaster, bursting into tears if her favorite skirt isn't ready to wear when she wants it because, and I quote, "she wants to be pretty, not messy pretty."

It occurred to me today that we could probably use some serious mother-daughter bonding time. So we set off on an adventure. An adventure that took us to a place filled with medieval torture devices, otherwise known as a nail salon. Now I am sadly the sort of person who just doesn't take care of herself. I go too long between visits to the hair dresser. I don't wear makeup. And I just don't get pedicures all that often. But I don't want Sunshine to be like me. At least not in that respect.

I should have said stop the moment I heard the lady say something about an ingrown toenail. But I didn't. And then my big toe was attacked with a long, skinny, stabbing instrument and something that looked and felt a little like a pair of pliers, and it felt like she was actually trying to rip my toenail off. And all the while I'm trying to sit there and smile and politely answer my daughter when she asks me why I'm gritting my teeth and making that weird noise. And when the nail tech had finally removed the offending portion of my toenail, she put it on my toe and laughed at how big it was. She left it there to mock me and my lack of foot hygiene. Then she discovered three more, and I'm trying desperately to forget that portion of this afternoon's events.

Sunshine loved her mani/pedi. She decided that purple, with a top coat of purple sparkles would be perfect for her feet, while her fingers were just screaming for blue, with a top coat of blue sparkles. And while I think that we bonded a bit during the time we sat next to each other in those comfy chairs, I can't really remember talking much. At least her choice of colors reminds me of the child I think she should act like. Gives me hope that we're just in the middle of some funky transitional stage. That I'll get my non-snarky kiddo back. The one who doesn't roll her eyes at every one of my suggestions. I mean she's only four, right?

Breakfast: The Most Important Meal of the Day

2009-07-29T13:57:00.005-04:00

Important? Definitely. I mean the USDA wouldn't steer us wrong. But breakfast here drives me nothing short of nuts. These girls will beg and plead for what it is they decide they want for breakfast. I'll painstakingly prepare what it is that they request and place it lovingly in front of them only to have them eat two bites. And then declare themselves done. And honestly that wouldn't bother me. I mean, I don't like the wasted food, but I won't force them to eat anything. It's the constant requests/demands/whining for snacks that starts about an hour after they've turned their noses up at whatever was placed on the breakfast table.

I really don't think the issue is that they're not hungry in the morning. I think that they just like the idea of snacks. I have been trying, with lousy results, to get them to understand that our day is not just an uninterrupted stream of snacks. I know they're hungry. They have to be. They only ate 2 bites for breakfast. But I'm done. I'm done with snacks. You don't finish breakfast, you don't get snacks.

This morning though? Almost broke me. It was almost comical. Well, maybe only in hindsight. I had both girls following me around the house, begging for food for almost 30 minutes. Literally 2 steps from my ankles. Almost whining in unison. While I was on the phone. I almost dug their eggs out of the trash and served them on a platter.

Family Date Nights. Hot or not?

2009-07-27T17:00:00.002-04:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, I think we've hit an all time low. The last time Todd and I had a date night might have been way back in February when we went to San Francisco. We were a bit desperate for one. So on Saturday night, we packed the girls up and took them with us. Yeah. I know. Totally defeats the purpose. But desperate times call for desperate measures.

All in all, the drive-in isn't a bad place for a date night that you have to drag children too. We saw the new Harry Potter. And aside from the slightly-more-than-sporadic interruptions from the peanut gallery requesting more popcorn, it was fairly successful. There was only a 10 minute screaming fit, complements of Ladybug, that required the rolling up of windows. Both girls did even fall asleep, eventually. Although Sunshine has recounted for me the entire scene where the Weasley's house burns. Oops.

I would love the chance to actually go out. With my husband. Without my children. But frankly, neither of us can stand to shell out $15/hour for a sitter. We'd rather pack them up and pray they fall asleep before the movie starts and save the sitter money to pay for things like food and electricity.

I've tried to float the idea of a co-op with the other parents in our neighborhood. Nobody really seems interested. Of course they don't know what Sunshine can do with a bottle of diluted vinegar. Perhaps that might sweeten the deal. Watch my kids for a few hours, and she'll clean every mirror, window, and baseboard in your house. That wouldn't violate child labor laws. Would it?

Off the Beaten Path

2009-07-26T16:07:00.006-04:00

We love hiking. Ever since college really. I remember my first time visiting the Devil's Marbleyard in Virginia. Gosh, that was years ago. I actually think that was also the site of my first anxiety attack. Halfway up, and all I could picture was us falling to the bottom. But that didn't stop us. Well, we did start choosing hikes with lower elevations.

We found Edwin Warner in Nashville. It was only 3 minutes from our apartment, and it was perfect. First it was just the two of us. And truthfully, now I can't even remember what it was like when it was just the two of us. We added our dog, Macy, in short order. This tiny puppy who wouldn't come near us at the SPCA, wouldn't stray farther away then the back of our heels at Edwin Warner. Well, at least for the first six months. After that we barely saw her on our hikes. Every now and again we'd see a black streak fly across the ridge in search of squirrels.

After the arrival of our oldest daughter, our hiking stopped. Just didn't seem feasible to carry everything that was required to sustain our tiny daughter, our dog, and ourselves. Now that Ladybug is capable of doing a nice 2-2.5 mile hike, we've started back up again.

And let me tell you, we've learned a lot since we've started hiking with the girls. First? Grunters. You know those people at the gym who grunt impossibly loudly when lifting weights or hitting a squash ball? Well, they're born that way. And we know that because Ladybug is a grunter. Every rock or step that she climbs is accompanied by the loudest grunt. She just can't help it. And I feel for her a little, she'll probably be glared at by tons of gym goers when she's grown up. Second? I squeal like a little girl when bugs fly into my ear. Yes, that's right. And then the girls will spend the next hour repeating it, and any chance we have of spotting wildlife is gone. But when they're super quiet, and they certainly were today, we catch glimpses like this...

By the way, nursing mothers are everywhere!

Third? We move at two different speeds, the girls and I. Especially when hiking. The girls? They meander. Every ant, rock, grain of sand, and leaf is worthy of their undivided attention. And truly? That's the way it should be. I have to fight my inner need to walk at warp speed like I'm shopping on Black Friday. And anyone who knows my mother and Black Friday knows what I'm talking about.

Our hikes are different now. Less hand holding with my husband. More hand holding with our children. Less talk about our future. More talk about peeing in the woods, and why it's only done in an absolute emergency. Ladybug has this strange idea that it's the absolute best place to pee. Although Sunshine did steer the conversation today towards her fervent desire for a baby brother. Ha! Not exactly something you put on a birthday list, kid.

525,600 Minutes

2009-07-22T14:53:00.002-04:00

We moved back to Atlanta just a little over a year ago. And since then, I've been thinking a lot about this past year. I know I keep harping on it. Maybe I just don't know how to let go. Tumultuous. I guess that's my best description for it. We've been though so many changes. So how exactly do I measure this year?

In the miles traveled to reach home?

In the number of phone calls to my sisters? (Thank God we have the same cell phone provider.)

In the number of friends we made and reconnected with?

In the number of times I've yelled at my girls? (Far too many.)

In the number of times those girls have made my heart melt?

In the phone calls to my husband, praying that his day was going well?

In the smiles that I now see on his face since leaving that hell hole of a law firm?

In the number of tomato plants I have killed this year? (Just too damn hot on that porch.)

In the number of tantrums my kids have thrown in public?

In pots of tea? (Hot Cinnamon Spice only, please.)

In the number of books I've read?

In the number of times I've reread my favorites?

In blog entries? (Ha. Not these last few months.)

Perhaps the better question would be how does this last year measure me? I'm a little scared to ask that question. Part of me thinks that I've spent quite a bit of time pretending to be a zombie. I'm not sure anyone would notice. I think I fake it quite well. Maybe not these last few months though.

But I swear. This is the end. I'm done taking stock of this past year. This is the last whining post I'll write. At least for a while.

Dear Mr. Grocery Store Bagger

2009-07-08T21:16:00.003-04:00

Yes. I am the first to admit it. I am anal retentive. If you see that I have painstakingly separated out my groceries according to their temperature requirements on the conveyer belt, you can assume that I expect you to bag them accordingly. Come on. All of my freezer things are together. How hard is it to put all of them in the same bag? Instead I find that I have one freezer item, one refrigerated item, and three pantry items per bag. And what's really fun is finding cleaning products in the same bag as my milk. Or even better. Raw meat in the same bag as my fresh produce. Are you kidding me? And yes. Every time you do it I will insist that you take the package of raw chicken out of the bag, return the grapes, and wait while I go pick out some more.

Sincerely,

Your incredibly annoyed, and more than a little disgusted, Grocery Store Shopper

Ok. Rant over.

***

We'd been doing so well. The last time we had it was more than three years ago. We'd grown complacent. And then it hit us. The stomach flu. Again. Sunshine came down with the symptoms last Thursday, Ladybug on Monday night. It seemed to pass quickly.

And then Tuesday morning came. By 5 am, I knew. It was going to hit me. I can't even begin to explain how awful it is. But taking care of two very active children while barely able to crawl off the couch? Damn near close to impossible.

I am embarrassed by the amount of television my children watched yesterday. But frankly, it was the only way I could cope. And believe me. I paid for it dearly today. They fully expected to be watching the television all day today too.

The high point of my day was Todd coming home at lunch time to feed the girls. Because I know I could not have done it. He even made a fort for them to play in. Which occupied them for about 10 minutes, until I realized that they'd brought the Maglite into the tent to help them see. Even in my half-conscious state I knew that wasn't a good idea.

My fever finally broke around midnight, and today I dealt with the aftermath. Toys, crayons, books and blankets that were strewn everywhere have been cleaned up. The stockpiles of gingerale, crackers and immodium have been replenished. My fierce determination to never have to go through that again has been renewed.

My one good memory about yesterday? Sunshine sitting next to me, rubbing my head, telling me that it will be alright and that I'll feel better soon. She's going to make such a great mom some day.

Hubris

2009-06-23T14:43:00.003-04:00

Today's one of those days where I thought I had it all figured out. But the universe. Ahh, the universe. Well, it had different plans for me.

It began early, which was a good thing. I have a ton of stuff to do in preparation for our somewhat impromptu trip tomorrow. And the kids? Well, the kids needed to be run hard. It's been way hot here, and we've spent too many days inside. I had this lovely day planned. A stop at the Botanical Gardens to play in the water garden, a trip to Trader Joe's to pick up snacks for tomorrow, Walmart, laundry, and hopefully a nap for the kids. And lets not forget packing, because I've yet to pack a single item of clothing.

We were doing so well. Nap time arrived with its usual fanfare. Yells of I'm not tired. I'm not going to sleep. Fine. I'll go upstairs. But I'm bringing the entire contents of our four bookshelves with me. What? You expect me to actually get in bed. I thought I could take my nap sitting at the top of the stairs, asking every two minutes if it's time to get out of bed yet. And that's just Sunshine. Usually I don't ask her to take a nap. But she got up early this morning, and frankly her attitude demanded it.

But oddly enough Sunshine wasn't the issue today. Ladybug was. My sweet, 3-hour napping Ladybug refused to take a nap. On the day that I REALLY needed her to nap. I'd put her upstairs and not two minutes later, I'd hear her door open and the pitter of her little feet as left her room. I kept finding her in the guest room with her baby doll, each time trying to lug something else in there. Finally, the fifth time I headed upstairs, I decided that I would let her finish her task. It turns out that she though baby needed a diaper and wardrobe change. She changed baby. We both felt better. I put her to bed, and I congratulated myself on figuring out the problem and solving it without tears.

And then I was all prepared to come downstairs and write a post about how all we have to do is sometimes follow their lead. But today the universe was laughing at me just a little. After I'd retrieved a snack and the computer, I had some problems getting online. Wouldn't you know. Ladybug was back out of bed, this time playing with the router in the guest room. Since then I've been up there at least five more times.

The baby gate is going up tonight.

***

I also wanted to thank everyone for their kind wishes about not getting the job. I do know that it's for the best. It would have been incredibly hard for me to leave Ladybug with someone else, regardless of how fantastic that person it. It's a blessing in disguise. We were still about a year away from really being ready for me to go back to work anyways. But sometimes you have to jump on the opportunities that might come your way. I would have been disappointed with myself for not trying.

***

We're heading up to the Beach tomorrow to help my mom, who will be recovering from surgery. Any thoughts and prayers for my mom's speedy recovery, and my sanity on the 10 hour trip to the Beach with the kids. Alone. Well, they would be greatly appreciated!

And Then There Was One

2009-06-18T04:20:00.002-04:00

I have spent the better part of the last six weeks trying to get the perfect job at Sunshine's school.

Over the weeks the candidates were whittled down to 2. Me and someone else.

I didn't get it.

I'm crushed.

The End.

Happy Birthday, Ladybug Part II

2009-06-11T21:22:00.002-04:00

I think it's safe to say that Ladybug totally and completely loved her birthday. Made even better because Daddy could take the day off. We started out with a lovely trip to the Zoo. Of course Baby had to join us as well.

Her first carousel ride.

Happy 2nd Birthday, Ladybug!

Happy Birthday, Ladybug

2009-06-11T06:12:00.008-04:00

My darling Ladybug,

Today you're two. And boy do I know it. Your turbulent twos started yesterday. Defiance meet spitting and hitting. That's OK though. You're just testing your limits. It would be lovely if you could limit it to the morning hours. It tends to make me grumpy at night.

You're absolutely fearless. You hang on monkey bars, plunge headfirst down slides, insist on swinging as high as possible, on the big girl swings. You never hesitate to follow your sister, copying her movements. You also never hesitate to tell her when she's wrong about something. I'm so glad that you can hold your own with her.

You love to be in Sunshine's bed. Sometimes I find you there during nap time. And lately? Sunshine has been complaining that you get into her bed at night. I know you just love to cuddle with her. You never hesitate to comfort Sunshine if you think she needs a hug.

You recently learned how to say I love you. And I couldn't be more thrilled. I can't begin to tell you how it feels to hear you say I love you too, Mom. And yes, you call me Mom. You picked it up from Sunshine, and no matter how many times I tell you Mommy, you still call me Mom. What's in name though?

Potty training you depends on the day. There are some days where all you want to do is use that bathroom. And then there are others. Those other days? Well, you will stand in front of the bathroom, stare me down with your arms crossed, and pee on the floor. A little stock tip for you? Sparkle paper towels. Going to be worth a fortune soon.

You delight in all things animal. You're so gentle with Macy, Jake, and Emmit that they don't run away when you approach them. They don't even cower. I'm waiting for the day when one of them decides that it's you they want to cuddle with at night.

Well, you're going to be up any moment now. Your first request will probably be for tea. Your second, oatmeal. And this morning? You won't have to wait on the internet.

Love you to the moon and back!

Mom

Today I feel grumpy. I've no patience for anything. My tomato plants are all dying, and my teapot just broke.

2009-06-05T14:51:00.006-04:00

Oh Good Lord. It's been one of those days. And is it really only 3pm? Because that means I still have way too many hours in the day to go before it's over. It's the kind of day that makes me want to curl up on the couch with a cup of tea and a really good movie. Alas, I broke my teapot, and the girls are awake. We try really hard not to watch TV during the day. Because if we do; the requests... No, the demands for TV will drive me to the point of insanity. Please, please, please, Mom. Can I watch a movie? Can I watch the Tinker Bell movie? Can I watch Caillou? You're not listening to me. You won't let me watch TV. I don't want to be your kid anymore. And really, what is it with Caillou anyways? Is he not the whiniest kid on television? It's just far easier not to turn it on at all.

I'm really excited about this weekend though. We're having company. And I love having company. So on that note, I'm going to snap out of this lousy mood I'm in and start cleaning the bathroom.

Holy Crow! It's Summer, Already? What Happened to the School Year?

2009-06-04T13:42:00.003-04:00

At some point, I feel asleep, woke up, and it was summer. Holy No More School, Batman. The end of the school year came with its flurry of meetings, play dates, promises of play dates during the summer, and wow, is it really summer? Already?

I had a few moments of quiet while waiting to pick up Sunshine on her last day of school. I was looking at Ladybug, swinging by herself on the big girl swings, and I got to thinking about all the changes that the girls have gone through during the school year. The other moms and nannies that I see everyday on the playground have been telling me for a while how much the girls have grown. But I just didn't see it until then.

Sunshine has grown inches taller and significantly more loquacious. I didn't think that was possible. I foresee a column regarding my inability to keep her in pants and shoes in the near future. She's also suddenly a huge fan of potty humor. She's a girl though. This phase shouldn't last long. Crossing fingers and toes.

She's also grown a little quirky. I brought her a new pack of panties not too long ago. She was thrilled. Several days later she complained that she had no panties left. Going into her drawer, I found one last clean pair of new panties. She explained to me that she had a play date coming up, and she wanted to save her last pair for her play date. Now some little girls save their favorite dress for a special outing. My little girl saves her favorite pair of panties. In all fairness, they did have castles and princesses on them.

Really though, she seems a lot less confident than she did at this time last year. It's like she realized that there's a big, bad world out there and she needs to hold my hand for a while. I notice Sunshine watching others. Observing them before trying something herself. She seems cautious. I think it's a good thing. She's a little wiser, a little less headstrong.

I don't even know how to describe the changes in Ladybug. It's more than just the inches she's grown. And she has grown by leaps and bounds. She's going to be tall. Ladybug's gone from a supremely quiet, shy baby to a brazen I-know-exactly-what-I-want-and-I'm-not-afraid-to-tell-you-exactly-what-it-is toddler. She even seems offended when Sunshine tries to talk for her. Going so far as to correct her when she's wrong. No, Sunshine, I don't want orange juice, I want LEMONADE.

I'm actually having fun with Ladybug and this whole potty training bit. Now that school is out, we've started training in earnest. She's in panties during the day, and every 20 minutes that timer goes off and onto the potty she goes. She insists on the adult toilet. No baby potties for this little girl. I am a little concerned that she might be developing a Pavlov's dog response with the kitchen timer though. I can see it now. Every time she hears a beep-beep-beep, she pees. A truck backs up, she pees. The microwave goes off, she pees.

I'm thinking that it should be a lovely summer. We've got some plans, nothing too big though. We've got some friends, and hopefully some home-grown veggies. We've got Todd, who is infinitely happier and less stressed. Oh, and wine. Thanks to Trader Joe's, we've got wine. Don't think I could make it through the summer without it.

Photos from the Best Mother's Day trip ever.

2009-05-11T15:25:00.004-04:00

The look on Sunshine's face when she looked up at this gorgeous waterfall was priceless. She was so excited by it that we decided to climb all the way to the top.

Ladybug managed to climb the 175 steps to the bottom of the waterfall, and then the additional 425 steps to the top. She carried her snack bag the entire way.

Ladybug also decided that she HAD TO USE THE POTTY. RIGHT THEN. Yeah. That was fun. Little did she know that she was giving us great material to use in oh, say, 14 or 15 years.

Artichokes and Moms

2009-05-10T20:20:00.002-04:00

There's a little something special that we try to do as often as we can. A tradition, if you will. We like to lounge around the dinner table after dinner and share something. A piece of fruit usually. Or, if we're really lucky, an artichoke. Todd's grandfather taught him how to eat a raw artichoke when he was just a child. He shared it with me. It was an acquired taste, but I've come to love it.

We sit around the table. Todd carefully peels off the leaves and hands them out, one by one. We talk. We laugh. We dip them in olive oil. We watch Ladybug learning how to bite the ends off of the leaves. We listen to Sunshine haggle for the biggest pieces. Todd chops up the heart, and hands it out, bite by bite. I always get the last piece. Not to seem sacrilegious, but it's almost like a communion. Bite by bite, our kids are learning patience. Eating an artichoke is not fast. They know that, even though they look like a lot of work, there's something in there worth fighting for. It's my favorite part of the day.

***

Today is Mother's Day. I have to say that my husband and kids totally rock. They planned the best Mother's Day I could possibly imagine. They took me for a hike and picnic in the North Georgia mountains. The weather was perfect. Ladybug climbed 604 steps to make it to the top of Amicalola Falls. Sunshine counted the first 175 steps that we climbed. We dodged poison ivy, and waved hello to every dog we saw. It was a perfect day.

I want to say THANK YOU to all the Moms in my life who have shown me the joy that is being a mother. I am learning so much. A few quick ones... To my Aunt Kris, thank you so much for sending me that photo. It was the perfect gift. To my mother-in-law, Denise, thank you for raising Todd. He is an incredible man, and I thank my lucky stars every day that I met and married him.

To my own lovely mother, what can I say? You're amazing. I wish I could be there to give you the biggest hug. I've been thinking about it all day. Thank you for always being there for me. For always supporting me, even if you thought I was making a mistake. For being the girly influence that my daughters so desperately need. For always being the best Mom and Mimi we could ever ask for. I love you!

Respect the Child

2009-05-06T16:51:00.004-04:00

One of the major tenets of Montessori philosophy is Respect the Child. And I think it's also the one I have the hardest time swallowing. I was raised to understand that respect was earned, and generally not given to children. I have to tell myself to knock on her bedroom door. I've essentially given up control over her wardrobe and hair. Special functions excluded, of course. I try to respect what she feels beautiful in.

Now this totally doesn't mean that she runs around crazy all the time, with me respecting her decision to run around like a crazy person. She is responsible for her decisions, and the ramifications of those decisions. If she wants to bring a big book into the store, she is responsible for carrying that book around the whole time. There's no leaving it in Mommy's purse. If she decides not to use the bathroom before leaving the house, I respect that. But I also don't stop the car five minutes after we leave the house so that she can use a gas station restroom.

Anyways, I'm following tangents today. Respect the child. Sunshine came downstairs this morning. She told me she didn't feel well, and she didn't want to go to school. Everything in me screamed to send her to school. She didn't have a fever. She didn't look sick. But she loves school, and I had to respect that she would know if her body didn't feel well. Sunshine stayed home. I debated that choice all morning. She seemed fine, happy even. But when we went upstairs to take a shower, she wanted to lay in bed instead. And at around 2:30, she walked her little tush upstairs, and went to bed. Without even telling me. I don't think that's ever happened before.

So I'm going to say that I feel like a better mom for listening to her, respecting her. I'm trying to raise her to make good judgements. How can I do that without letting her flex her little judgement muscles. That's the way they get stronger, right?

There are people who would say that I give her a little too much freedom. She walked out of the house the other day wearing a pair of bermuda shorts, socks pulled up to her knees, and patent leather shoes. Oh, and her socks were 2 different colors. (Mom, I can practically hear you groaning, from hundreds of miles away.) But really, peer pressure will be upon us in the not too distant future. And then she will spend entire mornings stressing about what to wear. She feels beautiful now. And trust me, every other kid in her class comes to school dressed just as strangely. It's wonderful to have a class with such like-minded parents.

The bottom line is that I hope this will eventually translate into a healthy respect between the two of us. And in the short term, there are far fewer tears in the morning. Sweet.

What Big Sisters Are For

2009-05-05T15:57:00.003-04:00

I'd like to think I was this good a big sister to my little sisters, but I don't think that I was. Sunshine will read tirelessly to Ladybug when she's sitting on the potty. And she's on the potty A LOT.

I remember when Sunshine was potty training. She had to have Curious George Visits the Zoo read to her each and every time. I don't know what it was about that book, but it became her potty book. Luckily Ladybug isn't quite so specific about which book is read, as long as a book is read. Although I think that if she did want the same book, Sunshine wouldn't mind reading it over, and over, and over, and over. Definitely one of the perks of having a big sister. I'm jealous.

Lately

2009-05-04T19:57:00.005-04:00

I'm sure most of you have noticed that I'm having a lot of difficulty managing this new lifestyle. One the one hand this is the most exhilarating time of our lives. It's terribly exciting, this business of creating a business. On the other, it's terrifying. I've spent too much time worrying lately. Have I filled out this form? What else can I do? Will this work? It's consumming. But enough about that...

***

I saw something on the way home today that has bothered me all day long. I pass a small church, and on their marquee it read, "The Best Academy is A Mother's Knee." I know discipline is such a personal topic in families. And I would never dream of telling someone else how to parent their children. It just makes me sad that they're telling everyone who passes by that it's OK to hit a child. Disciplining a child is so very important, but the method is even more so. I mean, come on, teaching a child not to hit by hitting them? That's just so very confusing. We try really hard to make the punishment fit the crime. It takes a ton of creativity, but so, so, so much more effective than spanking.

***

Our little girls have suddenly become night owls. Used to be I could put them to bed at 7:30 and not hear from them again until 7 am. The other night we found Sunshine sitting at the top of the stairs at 10:30. How she managed to keep herself quiet while we ate popcorn is beyond me. Now I know we are not immune from the after bed requests for water, food, one more story, cuddles, and world peace. Makes me think the makers of Ambien should invest a little R&D in a child version.

***

The girls and I had a picnic the other day with one of her classmates. Sunshine and her little friend got into a huge tiff not too long after we finished eating. The problem? Sunshine wanted to play horse, and her little friend wanted to play pony. They compromised by playing mice. Seriously? I couldn't make this stuff up.

***

We finished up our garden planting last week. Yippee. I'm so excited about having fresh tomatoes again. We're branching out this year: eggplant, squash, cucumbers. Thanks to the copious amounts of rain we've gotten lately, you can almost see the plants growing. Drought? Who says we're in a drought? The bad news about the last few years of drought and the tons of rain we've gotten lately is that the trees are falling. In very large numbers. Along my route, or any route for that matter, to Sunshine's school. And because we're not too bright here in Georgia, none of the power lines are buried. So they're coming down too. I actually saw someone standing on their RV holding up a power line so that others could drive under it. Like I said, lots of candidates for the Darwin Awards down here.

***

Thanks for bearing with me lately. I promise I'll eventually get back into the swing of things. I might even post pictures tomorrow!

Feels like it was just yesterday and forever ago all at the same time.

2009-04-29T09:36:00.002-04:00

Six years ago, this past Sunday, I married an incredible man. You know, I really don't remember most of the details. That day flew by in a blur. My clearest memory is actually of scooting our chairs together before the Mass had started. Sounds weird, but the chairs were like 2.5 feet apart. We sat down, took one look at each other, stood up, and moved the chairs closer. I just couldn't bear to be sitting that far away from him. That hasn't changed. Not even a bit.

There isn't any place I'd rather be, or anyone else I'd rather be with. I can't fathom that there would ever be a better partner for me out there.

Happy Anniversary, Babe. Love you so much!

MOTHERHOOD = FAIL, PART II

2009-04-21T20:36:00.004-04:00

I'm relatively relieved that there are no grades given for parenting. No semester reports. There is one major final grade given, but that's years away. Good thing too, because I'm totally failing.

Exhibit A:

Sunshine woke up with a bad dream last night. It took me a while to get to her because I had incorporated her crying into my dream. I actually have no idea how long she was crying. It was easy to put her back to bed though, and I didn't think about it again until this morning. After we had cuddled for a moment, I asked her about her dream. Apparently I was chasing a crab. And trying to kill it. Because I wanted to eat it. And she didn't want me to.

Wow. I'm the source of my kid's bad dream. I'm actually giving her nightmares. I just don't know how I feel about this. Is this a sign that I need to maybe knock off the ethnic food a little? Get back to the mac and cheese?

Exhibit B:

Ladybug and I picked up Todd for a trip the printer's this morning. I had the radio on, and what song does Ladybug start singing? Give You Hell by the All American Rejects. That's right, ladies and gentlemen. My 22-month old can sing Give You Hell.

In my defense, she can sing her ABCs too. And it could be worse... we heard one little girl singing We all just want to be big rock stars at the park about a year ago. Life is about balance, right? At least that's what I'm going to tell myself tonight. Maybe I'll get it right tomorrow.

Monday morning

2009-04-20T16:48:00.004-04:00

I absolutely despise installing car seats. I would rather do laundry than install car seats. That's saying a lot. Installing Sunshine's gi-normous car seat? Well, lets just say that I'd rather invite 5 of her friends here to spend the day.

But I spent yesterday doing it anyways. Cleaned out the car too. It needed to be done. We're going to sell it soon, and while it needs to be detailed, the books were starting to multiply. No kidding, I pulled 45 books out of the car. Nearly that many hair bows too.

So this morning, when Sunshine met me at the door, book in hand; I told her that there were no more books in the car. It's a short ride to school, and she could do without it. The fit that ensued? Oscar-worthy. Because telling her that she can't bring a book somewhere is akin to cutting off a limb.

We finally made it out to the car, sans book. She climbs into her car seat, and holds out a board book smaller than my palm. "Moooommmm. You must have missed this one." The sarcasm? She was dripping with it. The only thing missing was a dumba** at the end. Something tells me I'm going to need a metric ton of patience. A lot sooner than I had anticipated.

And by the way... oatmeal should NEVER be served on a Monday morning. Ever.

The Lost Month of April

2009-04-17T08:41:00.005-04:00

So most of you probably realize that there must be big things going on at the Poole house. You would be correct. And no, there are no babies involved. Unless you consider the brand new law firm that my brilliant husband has just opened a baby. I guess it could kind of be considered that. We've been working on it for quite a while. It hasn't come without pain or joy. Only this time it wasn't me in the driver's seat. Thank goodness for that. I, however, have taken over the role of the support person. What can I get for you, dear? Anything I can do to help? Sure, I'll get right on that. Talk about a total role reversal.

Truthfully, I couldn't be more thrilled. My husband is happy working. I haven't seen him happy in his work for a very long time. Now don't get me wrong, he actually works for longer hours now. But they're his hours. Working for his baby. I couldn't be prouder.

Scary as Hell? Yes. That too. I've been working for the last two weeks on attaining health care. Wow. Un-freaking-believable. It's so depressing that I've actually had to put it away several times. I just can't bear to look at it. There are actual policies out there that cost me $300/month just so I can have the privilege of paying for absolutely everything myself. Preventative care, office visits? Nada. Until you hit the deductible of approximately a billion dollars. Maternity coverage? Hahahahahaha. There's nothing that covers maternity anymore. And if you do want to purchase a special maternity rider? There's a 12 month waiting period before you can even think about getting pregnant. You get to pay for that lovely policy for 12 freaking months before you can use any benefit. All I can say is that all those people out there practicing Natural Family Planning had better be very, very frightened.

It's all worth it, though. Just to see Todd thrilled about something other than the kids and me. It's changing the person that I am. By nature, I don't deal well with uncertainties. This is forcing me to confront that fear of the unknown. I have no idea where we'll be in a year, or two. I know where I hope we'll be. And we're working like crazy to get there. Sometimes I have to remind myself to slow down and enjoy the journey. This is big. Building something that is wholly our own.

I'm not sure where this blog is going to fit in with the next few months of our life. It will fit in. But I think that it will have to come after being an assistant, secretary, courier, wife, and mother. I guess I'm just saying that I will be slow. And I hate that. I love this blog. So, I'm sorry that I lost the first half of April. I hope I don't lose the second half.

So... in the interest of supporting our family... anyone need a lawyer?

Anyone want to make a delicious dish to showcase the cuisine of Spain? Oops, err, Europe?

2009-04-01T09:21:00.004-04:00

When we enrolled Sunshine in school, we made it very clear to the school that we were not wealthy. Our contributions to the school would, barring a lottery win, most likely not come in the form of large monetary donations. We would, however, be more than happy to donate our time and talents.

And to that end, we've been exemplary parents. Todd has written articles for the monthly newsletter. I've done everything from watching other people's kids while they help in the classroom to helping create the auction project for our class. I've done photo projects, hosted a brunch, made plenty of hors d'oeurvres for different parent functions. I'm generally there if people need a volunteer. I've even taken home projects to complete for Sunshine's teacher. So when a good friend of mine asked that I head up a continent for our school's World's Food Day, I said yes.

Now I was a little reluctant. April is just a really busy month for us. And I'd never done anything like this. I thought that perhaps someone who had actually attended the event once might be a better choice. But I said yes, and I was given the task of finding people to cook dishes representing the countries of Europe. Now I'm not sure how many of you have pulled out your map of the world in a while, but Europe... Well, Europe has a lot of different countries, all with very different flavor profiles.

But I sent out my nice little email requesting help for this fantastic event which would showcase delicious food from all over the world. And almost immediately, I received three requests to cook for Spain. But because I'm a novice at this and apparently lack all skills diplomatic, I made a crucial mistake. I suggested that someone (the 3rd someone who had volunteered to cook for Spain) perhaps make an Italian frittata instead of a Spanish omelette. She said sure, and then I never heard another word. Until yesterday.

Apparently, there has been a whole flurry of emails going around about that mean coordinator from Europe and how she didn't want a Spanish omelette, she wanted an Italian frittata. And did anyone else want help with their continent instead? And really, yesterday was a terrible day to deal with this kind of beaurocratic BS.

Silly me, I thought that the point of this event was to try to showcase as many different countries as possible. So I did what any good, loyal parent would do. I ate humble pie, a humongous serving of it. I wrote the nicest email, copied to everyone on her little list. I apologized for it taking me all afternoon to get back to her, that I've had a really sick little one. I said that this was my first year at this school, and that I was mistakenly looking at things a little differently. That I was wrong for asking her to not cook for Spain. And finally, that the omelette sounded delicious, and we would love anything that she would like to cook.

And you know what I got back? A terse email saying not to put her on Europe's list, she was still waiting to hear from Asia.

Lovely.

Lucky for me, the coordinator of the entire event intervened and requested that she stay with Europe. So now I have three dishes coming from Spain, and that's it.

I'm guessing that by the time this fantastic event showcasing delicious food from all over the world comes around, I'm going to be huddled in the corner, banging my head against the wall.

The Hits Just Keep On Coming

2009-03-31T21:39:00.002-04:00

I found my first gray hair tonight. I think I'm officially sad.

Sigh...

2009-03-31T08:07:00.002-04:00

It's going to be one of those days, folks. Sunshine is the lucky recipient of a raging ear infection, and I've only had about 3 hours of sleep. Any bets on when Ladybug starts the descent into feverish, ear-clutching, crying madness?

On the bright side, it happened this week, as opposed to next week. When we're scheduled to visit the fam in VA. Not feeling much of the bright side at the moment though.

Whimpering

2009-03-30T15:28:00.003-04:00

There's something about raising small children that instills in you the hearing of a super hero. You hear it all. The muttered protests of your preschooler at bath time. Your child's cry from across the playground. The small thud your toddler makes when she falls out of her newly converted crib. (No worries. It's less than a foot of the ground, and there's a comforter on the floor to soften the landing.) The whimpering of a child, well past bedtime, from the top of the stairs. I do think though, that it only applies in parenting situations. I still can't hear my cellphone when it rings inside my handbag.

It was the whimpering that we heard last night. I was engrossed in the Sex and the City movie. I've only been waiting a year to see it. But then I heard it. Actually I should say that we heard it. Now, my kids are sleepers. Heavy, heavy sleepers. So when one of them is whimpering at the top of the stairs almost three hours after they went to bed, there's a pretty big problem.

Todd, who has a far better back than I do, practically leapt up the stairs and had Sunshine in the bathroom before I made it to the top of the stairs. I went to check the bedroom, and sure enough, everything needed to be changed. Unfortunately I had just changed her sheets and duvet that morning. But because I was on top of things, I had already washed and dried the extras. Thank goodness I was productive this weekend.

The speed with which Todd managed to get Sunshine showered and changed was matched by the speed with which I got her bed stripped and remade, and the carpet cleaned. It astounded me. Fast reflexes. Add that to the list of skills that parenting sharpens.

Poor Sunshine. She did enjoy staying up a bit with us last night though. Just needed to make sure that the situation wasn't going to repeat itself. I was all out of clean sheets. She was crushed that I had to cancel the play date we'd scheduled with one of her friends, but I think she's enjoyed being home today.

***

In other news, the rigmarole that the Sate of Georgia puts you through in order to register your car is astounding. We've put this off for this long just because the sheer amount of paperwork is astronomical. And we can't even procure some of it because our bank wants things done differently from the DMV. Lovely. Neither side is willing to budge. I love being caught in a lousy bureaucratic circle. I'm hoping it's resolved soon. I have no desire to drive to Virginia with expired Virginia tags.

***

I'm so ready for March Madness to be over. I can't stress enough how much I truly hate basketball. Just have no patience for it. And it drives me insane when I think about how my wonderful husband must watch EACH AND EVERY GAME, even though he doesn't watch basketball at any other time during the year. It can't end soon enough.

Laundry, Church, and Chickens

2009-03-29T16:38:00.002-04:00

I think I've been having one of those weeks. You know. Those weeks where you just look at yourself and think, Is this really my life? Not in a bad way, mind you. Just in a reflective way. I mean, I could have spent all week describing the mountains of clean laundry that are mutating out of my laundry room, taking over my house and threatening my children. Or perhaps you might have liked to hear about the dozens of chickens that have sacrificed their lives in my crusade to roast the perfect chicken. Because seriously, it seems like that is the sum total of my life these days. Laundry and chicken. Actually, I shouldn't say that. It's laundry, chicken, husband, children with a small smattering of play dates, teacher conferences, and rain. Somehow that doesn't sound much better. I guess I've just felt like I haven't had much to write about lately.

But, enough about that.

We've been going to church lately. I'm still not sure how I feel about that. I'm leaning toward not wanting to raise my children as Catholics, but I'm giving it another try. If we do decide to remain in the Catholic Church; I think it will be something that I struggle with on a daily basis. That, and I will probably become a permanent nursery helper. All in all, it's not a bad parish. The people seem normal enough. But there's a school there. And that almost automatically means that my children will be left out because they will NEVER attend the school. Nothing against people whose children do, it's just not for us.

But, as part of our attempt to give it our best shot, we attended the Lenten fish fry dinner on Friday night. I won't go into the fact that the only veggie on the plate was the ketchup. That could happen anywhere. The priest came over to us while we were watching the girls play after dinner. He had already introduced himself to Todd, and was coming over to introduce himself to me. We made small talk about how we had just moved from Virginia, and he quickly said that Of course Sunshine would start at the church school next fall. Well, no. I said that she was a student at a really wonderful Montessori school, that she was thriving there, and that I would like to, at some point, get my Montessori teaching license. You would think, that after all that, he would have left it alone. But no. He had to then tell me how much trouble Montessori children had when transferring to Catholic school. Wow. Really, Sherlock? No Montessori parent in their right mind would ever consider a Catholic school when faced with having to transfer their child. Talk about totally different theories of education.

I think this just irked me on a lot of different levels. Sure, it might take a little while to get used to having to sit at a desk all day. But Montessori kids are actually incredibly adaptable. They can manage their own time, and they're incredibly free-thinking. And I may be guessing here, but I think that was what the priest was talking about. And that's not even mentioning the misguided attempt to up their enrollment numbers. I was polite though, and said it was very nice to meet him. After he left, Todd made a comment about how that was on his Top Ten List on How NOT to Endear Yourself to My Wife.

Wow. Well, right now I'm thinking that this was so NOT how I'd imagined this post going.

On a lighter note, we sat down to chicken chili tacos for dinner last night. Delicious. And it gave my kids a chance to chow down on sour cream. Because, given the chance, they will eat it by the spoonful. And yes, I give them lots of greek yogurt. Most of the time they don't realize that it's not sour cream. And it's handy to have around for dips. But I had the real thing out last night. I took my eye off the container for one quick second. Turning around, I thought I caught the sour cream spoon coming out of Sunshine's mouth. A quick talk about no licking the serving spoon, a trip back to the silverware drawer, and we were back to eating dinner. Not two minutes later, the spoon was coming out of her mouth again. NO LICKING THE SPOON, I said. Oh, but Mommy. I didn't lick the spoon. I put the whole spoon in my mouth, she said primly. Lovely. Looks like we're going to have to be much more technically correct in the future.

It's been a busy weekend here. I dealt with the mountains of clean laundry. And even started on the mountains of not-so-clean clothes. Bonus points for me. Sadly, dealing with the latter leads to more of the former. Oh well. We did convert the dining room into an office. Because we've only used it once. And while that event was a success (no one cried), I can't imagine Todd would want to repeat it. I'm actually sitting in the office right now, and it's beautiful. Perhaps having our filing cabinets downstairs will actually make it a little easier to, you know, file all the stuff that gets sent here.

By the way... I made this for dinner tonight. It was amazing. I roasted the chicken whole, instead of cutting it up. I know, I'm lazy, but I can't stand cutting up chicken and it's so much cheaper to buy it whole. I also added some diced butternut squash to the sweet onions. I didn't have orzo, so I substituted Israeli couscous, and the kids couldn't get enough of it. Huge success. And the smoked paprika is so important to this dish. Definitely worth a try. I guess that's just one more chicken. Well, it was a good way to go. For a chicken.

Crying Over Spilled Dirt

2009-03-22T20:03:00.003-04:00

I bought Sunshine a pot of gorgeous hot pink gerbera daisies a couple of days ago. They're her responsibility, and she's taking it quite seriously. They stay in the girls' room, which gets some beautiful morning sunlight. But during nap time, because Ladybug can now get out of her bed, Sunshine likes to take her flowers elsewhere for safekeeping.

Both girls needed a nap today. Well, Sunshine needed a rest. It was heavily protested, but she grudgingly carried her daisies and a few books into our room. Thirty minutes of listening to her dance around upstairs, we let her down.

Later tonight, just after we'd put the girls to bed, I found a rather large pile of dirt on the floor. Covered up by my pillow. I had Todd get Sunshine out of bed. She came in with her head hung low. "But Mommy, I knocked it with my elbow. I didn't want you to be mad at me." We very quietly talked about how I wasn't upset at all, I just didn't want her to cover it up. That spills happen all the time. But that she should tell us, even if it's just so we can help clean it up.

So what did I do to make my daughter so afraid to tell me that she'd spilled a little dirt? We never get upset about spills. Okay, well maybe if she's really goofing around. It's possible that she was really goofing around during rest time. But still, I don't want her to be afraid of me. That makes me incredibly sad. I hope our little chat tonight will help lessen her fears of coming to me. Fear can fester and grow, and I so desperately don't want to have this kind of relationship with my daughter when she's a teenager.

When Ladybug Has a Blowout, or How I Spent My Day Today

2009-03-18T16:40:00.003-04:00

When Ladybug has a blowout, you might notice the stench that seems to be everywhere. You look for the source.

When you finally do pinpoint the source, you see that she has leaked everywhere. You moved towards her carefully, for a closer inspection.

When you move in for a closer inspection, you realize that she has rubbed it all over her hair. You decide that a shower is imperative.

You take her up to the shower, dripping everywhere, and carrying her as far away from your body as humanly possible.

When you get to the bathroom and start carefully undressing Ladybug, you realize that you have zero change of getting out of this without a shower yourself. You also realize that you are making a miserable mess. You yell to Sunshine to bring wipes, and plenty of them. And a plastic bag, don't forget the plastic bag.

After showering, dressing, cleaning the floor, and putting Ladybug down for a nap; you head downstairs to deal with the aftermath.

You start by calling to Sunshine to PLEASE, PLEASE, PLEASE start cleaning the playroom.

When you've established that she is, indeed, picking up the playroom, you start to concentrate on the carpet spots.

As you clean the carpet, you realize that your floors are in desperate need of sweeping and mopping.

You drag out the broom, dustpan, and mop. You move all the furniture and rugs. You start to sweep.

As you are sweeping, you notice that the baseboards could use a wash. Of course, you make a mental note if it because you are in the middle of sweeping. You also knock you head on the hanging light fixture, because there is no kitchen table, or husband, to warn you that it is there. You curse the light fixture.

After you curse the light fixture and finish sweeping, you start to mop. As you mop, you realize that there are lots of marker marks on the floor. You make a mental note to drag out the Magic Eraser. You put place holders down by each mark, making the room look eerily similar to a crime scene. In the process, you knock you head on the light fixture yet again, cursing it a little louder this time.

After you finish cursing again, you realize that Sunshine has finished picking up the playroom and would like another task. You give her a full bottle of diluted vinegar, a roll of paper towels, and ask her to clean the windows. You proceed to vacuum, sweep, and mop the playroom and living room. While you're on your way to throw the sweepings outside, you knock your head on that damn light fixture again. At this point the cursing can probably be heard in the development next to yours.

As the throbbing in your head subsides a little, you realize that Sunshine has finished with the windows. You let her loose on the baseboards. As she sprays vinegar all over the house, you notice the shocking number of foam stickers that are stuck on various surfaces. As you painstakingly scrape each and everyone on of them off, you silently curse the person who decided that the adhesive on said stickers should be NASA grade.

After you're done scraping stickers, you realize that Sunshine has run out of vinegar after cleaning the baseboards, doors, and kitchen cabinets. You wisely decide not to refill the bottle, and you both sit down to relax for a moment. Just as you sit down, you hear Ladybug's voice. She's awake and she needs a diaper change.

And honestly, after all this, all I could think was THANK GOD WE DIDN'T GO TO THE AQUARIUM THIS AFTERNOON.

1-2-3 Magic

2009-03-18T10:00:00.003-04:00

I hate how difficult the early evenings could be. I would love to spend them cuddled up with my kids, reading a book. But they're tired, and hungry, and I've got dinner to make. It's really become my witching hour. I try so hard not to lose my patience with the girls, probably just as hard as they try not to lose their patience with me.

Then they both want to stand on the one stool that we have and help cook. So with one on each side of me, I do my best to not yell at both of them to find some work to do. Out of the kitchen.

Monday night was particularly fun. It was late, dangerously close to the girls' bedtime when we sat down to dinner. The girls had been especially difficult, impatiently waiting for Daddy to come home. When we finally sat down to dinner, the cat started howling to go out. I mean, the kids were finally quiet so I guess he felt the need to make the house as noisy as possible again. Sunshine opened the door to let him out. He balked, and kept howling. Incredibly frustrated, I opened the door, told him I was going to count to three. He could either leave the house, or I was going to throw him out.

I still can't believe that I told my cat that he had till the count of three to leave the house or be quiet. I think I've lost it. So does my cat.

Cha-Cha-Cha-Cha-Changes

2009-03-17T08:50:00.003-04:00

Ladybug is changing so fast. It seems like just yesterday she was nursing, sleeping all the time, so content to cuddle in the sling with me all day. Now? Now she is her own person. And she is not shy about telling you exactly what she wants. Or doesn't want. Or REALLY, REALLY DOESN'T WANT.

So now she really, really loves sleeping in our version of a big girl bed. I do find it totally fascinating that she has no interest in getting out of the bed. Just getting into it. I'm sure that will change though. Perhaps just the option to get out of bed is enough at the moment. Of course, I do think that she spends a good portion of the night sleeping on the floor.

There's also been an explosion in both her desire to use the potty and her language. So now she can tell us that she has to go. Or that she already went. Or that she likes going. Or that SHE DOES NOT WANT HER DIAPER CHANGED. Unless she gets to wipe her bottom by herself. Then she REALLY, REALLY wants to change her diaper, like five minutes ago already.

She also lets me know on an almost hourly basis her total and absolute preference for chocolate milk. Anything else is totally and completely unacceptable. That really presents quite a problem, as chocolate milk just isn't served that often here.

And for all of you that can't stand her hair in her face... she is now also ready for pigtails. I know, it's adorable. However, she likes me doing her hair about as much as her big sister.

No hurt me Mommy, she cries. And I know it doesn't hurt. Her hair is still so baby soft, and doesn't really get tangles. She's just parroting her sister. Just one more thing to make our mornings slightly more complicated.

It's amazing to watch her grow though. I just don't remember it happening so fast with Sunshine. I feel like she'll be asking me for the keys to the car tomorrow.

Happy Weekend!

2009-03-14T16:29:00.004-04:00

I hope a wonderful weekend is had by all. We're going to enjoy a lot of laundry, popcorn, and movies. Probably not in that order!

By the way... there are to be NO comments on the hair in the face. I can see you rolling your eyes, Mom. Just not a battle I want to wage, especially after school's out for the afternoon. They look beautiful, hair in the eyes or not!

More tales from the playground

2009-03-13T16:09:00.003-04:00

Sunshine's school dismisses from the playground. Normally, it's nice. I get to have an adult conversation with some besides my husband. Although it's usually punctuated with requests that the older children please try hard not to scare the younger ones when they play velociraptors or fire breathing dragons. And the kids get to expend a little energy. Love that.

There's a dad there though that bugs the everlovin' crap out of me. He insists on calling my kid a weird nickname, even after I told him that her name was SUNSHINE. His kid ALWAYS comes to school with the greenest, runniest nose. (Just a pet peeve of mine. I mean, this guy stays home so there shouldn't be any question about keeping his sick kid at home.) But today took the cake.

I had noticed that this particular little girl had been out for the last few days. But she was back today. That's fine. No big deal. But her dad brought her obviously sick, much older brother onto the playground. He was fine for a minute, and terrorized a few of the younger kids. But then he stopped. And vomited. All over the place. Not 3 feet from me. And then, they STAYED ON THE PLAYGROUND so the little girl could play.

Now seriously. This kid is 10. I'm not saying leave him at home, but at least leave him in the car. Quickly pick up your other child, and leave. Heck, any of the other parents would have been more than willing to bring this little girl up to her father and brother. You just don't bring such a sick kid onto the playground. And then, you don't stay after he gets sick just so that your other child can play.

Have some respect for the other parents who are trying to keep their children healthy. The last thing we need is to be hit with the stomach bug. Especially after this week. Maybe I'm overreacting, but but the stomach bug is something that I just don't play around with. And frankly I'm ticked off that this particular parent seems to have so little regard for the health of any of these kids. And if Sunshine gets sick... I just might suggest a play date at their house. Probably not, but a mom can dream.

A Memorandum From The Child

2009-03-11T21:25:00.003-04:00

I've been taking this incredible seminar for the past few weeks. I've debated putting this on the blog. It totally blew my mind, but it's not my work. Seriously though. Read it aloud. (That's actually important.) Think about it. I know it's long, but it's completely worth it.

*I'm trying to learn the difference between my needs and my impulses. I need and really want you to help me set my limits. I don't need my every whim and fancy catered to.

*"No" is not always a put-down. Sometimes "no" is the most appropriate answer you can give me.

*I'm inclined to think you're perfect and infallible. Please allow yourself to give me the comfort of knowing you make mistakes too. An honest apology from you to me makes me feel surprisingly warm toward you.

*Be clear and firm with me. This lets me know where I am and helps me to be secure in my relationship with you.

*Be my guide and I will usually follow. If you are forceful with me, I learn that power is all that counts.

*Please be consistent. I get so confused if your expectations and directions fluctuate randomly.

*I'm inclined to trust you absolutely. Since promises may be impossible to keep, let's not use them.

*Sometimes I may act like I'm trying to provoke you. Please help me regain my inner balance by showing me that you can keep yours.

*Sometimes I may want you to feel bad for what I think you've done to me. You might try leaving me alone or giving me a response that lets me know you recognize how upset I am.

*I thrive on respect. If I feel belittled, I may try to compensate by acting like a bully and a big-shot.

*Please give me enough time and freedom to do things for myself. I will think I am incapable if you do "my" things for me. I want to feel competent.

*I might experiment with some unacceptable mannerisms or activities. If you give lots of attention to it, you are giving me a reason to make the experiment a habit.

*Sometimes I will behave inappropriately in public situations. Please quietly take me aside and give me a choice to leave or use proper behavior.

*I can't participate in a discussion about my behavior in the heat of a conflict. My hearing is not very good at this time and my cooperation is even worse. It's all right to take the necessary action, but let's not talk about it until later.

*Let's be gracious with mistakes. I need to know I can make mistakes without feeling that I'm no good.

*Nagging is really hard to listen to. If I fail to follow through the first time you speak clearly to me, logical consequences of my actions will help me remember the next occasion.

*Please be careful with my innate honesty. I am easily frightened into telling lies.

*Sometimes I really don't know why I do things. If you require an explanation, I will probably have to make one up.

*I will appreciate your patience for putting up with my experimentation. It's my best way of learning.

*I learn from experience so please don't overly protect me from "my" consequences. The more experience I have, the better my judgement will be.

*My body has great recuperative powers so my small ailments don't need too much notice. I may learn to expect poor health if it results in a lot of your attention.

*Honest questions need honest answers because this is one important way I learn. Sometimes I may ask silly or meaningless questions without end. I just want to keep you busy with me.

*I resent lectures on right and wrong. My moral judgement is quite astute. Please give me credit and the opportunity to exercise it.

*Sometimes I am fearful. Please give me encouragement without belittling my feelings.

*The quality and quantity of the time we spend together is very important to my well-being.

*I am more open to learn from a model than a critic. Treat me as you treat your friends, then I will be a friend too.

Sometimes you just have to try it.

2009-03-10T16:55:00.002-04:00

She begged me for one more glass of chocolate milk. But she had already had a big one, and a sugary snack that afternoon. I told her ice water. She was welcome to have as much ice water as her tummy could hold.

Apparently that wasn't good enough.

I disappeared from the kitchen for a bit. I'd like to say that I was doing something productive, like laundry. But I wasn't. I was probably checking for updates on my favorite bloggers. Anyways, I returned to find a nasty looking concoction in Sunshine's cup.

What on Earth is that? I tried making chocolate ice water, Mommy. It didn't taste very good, she said.

Well, thank goodness for that.

Random

2009-03-09T14:46:00.002-04:00

Wow. So how long has it been since I last posted. I know, I know... way too long. I'm even further behind in reading my other favorite bloggers. Huge life events going on, and I'm missing it. I've been lost in the randomness of our life. But I'm trying to dig myself out of it, because looking at life go by a week at a time bites. The big one. So because I don't think I could compose a coherent post if my life depended on it (transitions are not my thing lately), I give you little slices of randomness.

*Sunshine's been having trouble at school. Several misinterpreted emails between her teacher and I later, and we ended up with a conference on Friday afternoon. Apparently "The Sunshine Show" has been on nonstop at school. She's so into socializing that work is no where on her list of priorities. We're not really worried about this. And neither is her teacher. We just weren't understanding each other. And actually this is a good thing. Because her father and I are anything but outgoing. So if Sunshine has a bit more social butterfly in her than we do, that's great. As long as it happens after school.

*I've been working for weeks on selling some of the girls' clothes at this huge consignment sale here in Atlanta. Painstakingly going through the clothing, washing the clothing, hanging up the clothing, logging it into the computer, tagging it, and finally, turning it in. What a nightmare. If the money made from this sale weren't going to buying the girls' summer clothes, I would have packed it up right there. I have no patience for Buckhead Betties. Actually attending the sale, even worse.

*We surprised the girls with dinner out on Friday night. Sunshine requested a salad. When said salad arrived at the table, she squealed with glee. Look, Mommy! There are olives on my salad, lots of olives. And feta. I love feta. We then watched her inhale that salad. I love it.

*I've been taking a Montessori seminar for the last few weeks. It's been fascinating. Last week the subject of the class was positive disciplining and parenting. It challenged my ideas of what misbehaving actually is. I don't think that I have the time or words to describe the theories, but they rocked my world. At the end of the class we received a Memo From a Child. It totally blew my mind. I've got to link it up here.

*We were rewarded with a beautiful weekend, with temperatures near 80, after surviving our freak snow storm last weekend. The Zoo was packed, but we took the girls anyways. This trip was a little unorthodox. We decided to split up. Sunshine and I decided to forgo seeing the animals in favor of a ride on the carousel and a trip on the Zoo train. Todd and Ladybug were more conventional in the way they spent their time. The look on Sunshine's face when the panda she was riding started to move was absolutely priceless.

*Ladybug chose this weekend to both pee and poop in the potty. YEAH. I know we're nowhere close to shedding the diaper, but it was a start. She sheds her pants and diaper at the slightest mention of going potty. But then again, she's always liked her naked time.

*We're expecting a visit from the lovely Aunt Ashley tomorrow. I'm ecstatic. We have some great things planned, but I'd really just love the company. I know the kids will love seeing someone besides myself. It's amazing how giddy they get at the prospect of someone new to show all their treasures.

Ah, The Joys of Learning to Read

2009-03-04T10:56:00.002-05:00

Sunshine was in the tub the other night, working on reading with her Daddy. I know, weird place. But she loves those bath letters. I was doing laundry but could hear them talking about words ending in -UCK. Duck, Sunshine shouts. Luck. Muck. And, wait for it. That's right. I was cringing, knowing it was coming, wishing Todd might have hidden the F. But, no. I just hope she doesn't pull that word out at school.

Speaking of reading, learning to read is hard. Trying to help our kid, even harder. Todd and I both love to read. I used to keep Barnes and Noble in business before we started saving for future ventures. Now I spend way less time at the train table, and much more time trying to keep my 21-month old quiet in the library. Not at all easy. We really want the girls to love to read just as much as we do.

I feel like I'm walking a very fine line when Sunshine wants to read. I want her to try it, by herself. But I also don't want her to feel too frustrated. Reading is fun. It shouldn't feel like a chore. So I generally just read to her. She's working on the fundamentals at school, and I don't want to put too much pressure on her to learn. At least not now.

I think the only sad part of Sunshine learning to read is that it effectively puts an end to Mommy and Daddy spelling things out that we don't want the girls to hear. I guess we'll have to move on to Pig Latin next. Uper-Say.

We were shredding, Mommy. Cause we're good.

2009-03-03T15:54:00.002-05:00

Said by my lovely daughter, Sunshine, as we stared Day 2 of THE SHRED. So, because I'm a tremendous procrastinator, I'm just now sharing my stats with my friendly group of Shredheads.

A. Before Pictures: Ha! My 4-year old took the pictures. She's still not very well versed when it comes to capturing someone's most flattering angles, i.e. not a snow ball's chance in Hell. However, I will email them to any verified Shredder who requests them.

B. Tag Line: Feel The Burn.

C. Weight: HaHaHaHa! Yeah, no. Actually, I don't own a scale. For obvious reasons.

D. Goal: Wow. Where to start? My immediate goal? To feel better about myself. Long term goal? I want to run another half marathon. I ran my first just before I got pregnant with Ladybug, and I loved it. I'm too out of shape to begin with that, but it will happen again.

E. Diet Plan: I do not diet. Just doesn't work for me. What I do plan to do is drink more water. Stop eating after dinner. Use smaller plates. We eat very healthy food to begin with, and telling myself I can't eat something is just begging me to fail.

F: Personal Rules: See above. I plan to Shred every day. I also do Yoga 3x per week with Sunshine.

G. Shred Plan: Every day. Yoga 3x per week. Starting with Level 1.

Day 2 update: Lunges are the bane of my existence.

Shred on, everyone!

Somehow, Somewhere, Hell Has Frozen Over.

2009-03-01T21:16:00.004-05:00

That's right. It's a cold day in Georgia. It started snowing at around 11 am, and didn't stop until after 6. The kids were in Heaven. Well, maybe not Ladybug. It was a little cold outside.

Sunshine got the opportunity to make her very first snowman. Much time was spent debating what material should be used for the snowman's eyes. Dark chocolate covered almonds, mulch, more carrots. It all stopped when Sunshine said that the perfect material for the eyes was dog poop. Daddy made an immediate judgement call. Mulch it was.

Ladybug thought it was a little too cold. She stuck it out for a while, but eventually the need for nap time won over. It might be a few more years before she really loves it, or she might take after her Mom. I don't think snow is anything I'll ever get used to. There's a reason we live in Georgia.

It was a beautiful day. Snow has such a healing quality to it. Well, at least freshly fallen snow does. It makes even the ugly parts of Atlanta pretty. I'm sure it will make for a nightmarish commute for Todd tomorrow, but we enjoyed it today. Hopefully we won't see it again until next year. I'm just about ready to tell Old Man Winter to suck it. (Or as some of my other family members would say, inhale deeply!)

*** And Congratulations to Kris for her hard work and dedication. She was the random winner of a DVD copy of Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred! Thanks to everyone for their favorite weight loss tips!

Because I'm the Guest, That's Why.

2009-02-26T09:59:00.003-05:00

We stepped out of the play date rotation for a while during Ladybug's bout with bronchitis. It was hard on Sunshine. I could tell she missed having those afternoons with her friends. But now that Ladybug is better and we've stopped traveling, it was time to bite the bullet and step back in.

Something keeps bothering me though. Every time we have someone here, I'm constantly hearing But I'm the guest, I get to choose, or We have to do what I want from our little guest. Please tell me my kid doesn't do this at someone else's house. I mean, I totally get what our guest's parents are trying to do. They want their child to understand that when a guest comes to your house, you treat them hospitably. I agree with it, but I also think it's a little extreme.

I would be mortified if Sunshine went to someone's house and demanded to do what she wanted, because she was the guest. Around here I've been trying to encourage the girls to come up with games that they both want to play. I don't want my little girl to dislike having play dates at our house because she feels like she doesn't have a choice in what activities to participate in. And honestly, I don't like having to mediate the arguments that occur every time I hear But I'm the guest.

I know these parents, and these kids. And don't get me wrong. These are great kids. I just think that deference towards the guest is way too overemphasized. That's just not the way things are in the real world, right?

Housekeeping = Fail

2009-02-25T10:32:00.003-05:00

If you haven't heard from me in several days, send help. You'll find me buried beneath layers of crayons, colored pencils, clothing for the consignment sale, barbie shoes, and books, and raisins. How did we ever manage to acquire so many books?

I'm selling some of the girls' clothes at a consignment sale in several weeks. Going through bin after bin of infant clothes has been such a lovely trip through the infancy of my girls. There are so many pieces I'm having trouble parting with: the camel-colored corduroy pants that Sunshine looked so cute in, the little red outfit that set off Ladybug's hair. There are certain pieces I won't part with, like the things they came home from the hospital in. Still, it feels good to clean house a little. Of course, at the moment, everything is strewn throughout not only my living room but my dining room as well.

But that's OK, because the mess in the living room and dining room can't even compare to the chaos that has enveloped my playroom. A curse should be put upon all those toy manufacturers that make toys with dozens of tiny parts. I almost lost it with Sunshine the other day. She'd been coloring with markers, crayons, and colored pencils. Most of them found their way to the floor. I'd asked her several different times to pick them up before I finally threatened to throw them all away. She didn't believe me. So we have a few less coloring implements now. Can't say I'm really sorry. I just wish that the next time she takes me a little more seriously.

I'm not one of those women who really loves to clean. Sure, I like to see my house spotless and shining. But realistically, it stays that way for all of five minutes. And that's if one of my children is sleeping. Alas, my dirty floor is calling. Can't remember the last time I washed it. That's not good, is it? Housekeeper = Fail.

What Did She Say The Problem Was?

2009-02-22T19:49:00.003-05:00

"Mommy sat on the bed, and THAT was the problem." This came out of my darling Sunshine's mouth this evening. Let me just clarify, for the record, that Mommy was not the problem. The hooks on the side rail of Sunshine's antique bed frame were the problem. She just knows that, every now and again, the bed breaks when Mommy (yes, mostly me) and sometimes Daddy sits on her bed.

Still, it hurt to hear that coming out of her mouth. I'm not quite where I'd like to be with swimsuit season lurking just around the corner. So in the spirit of getting to where I'd like to be, I'm offering a Giveaway! Working out by yourself is never fun. And our gym money is being sent directly to savings these days. So I need something fast ('cause you never have much time with little ones around) and fun. Kristen Chase of Motherhood Uncensored told me about Jillian Michael's 30 Day Shred a couple of weeks ago, and it looks like it fits the bill. I'm offering up a copy of it to one lucky random winner. All you have to do is leave a comment. Tell me your favorite strategies for staying healthy. You can enter once a day. Multiple entries require that you tell me something different each time. The contest ends on Saturday, February 28th at 11:59 pm.

Happy commenting!

Can't Touch This

2009-02-20T21:38:00.004-05:00

So I think we've doomed our little girl. But at least she's having fun, right?

(You'll have to forgive the novice attempt at publishing a movie. I'm a little slow on the uptake.)

And thanks to Uncle Billy for picking out the card for Todd's birthday. The girls played with it INCESSANTLY. When it started repeating Can't Touch This over and over and over, I finally had to put it out of its misery. Sad, but supremely necessary.

The San Francisco Treat

2009-02-18T22:05:00.004-05:00

So this past weekend my amazing husband took me to San Francisco to celebrate my birthday. Good Lord, I love this man. He totally gets me. We both have this insatiable need to try every different type of food imaginable. This essentially meant eating. All. Day. Long. Thank goodness for the hills (we actually call them mountains in Georgia.) or I would have gained about 50 pounds. We walked everywhere. And I still have the bruises on the bottom of my feet to prove it.

We started in Chinatown, and I was so hungry that I would have paid mad money to pick something off a menu that I couldn't read. But it was delicious, and it kept me from turning insanely grumpy as I am apt to do when I'm not fed regularly. The fabulous Chinese was followed by more Chinese, Spanish bocadillos, Italian lamb, Japanese sushi, the BEST Vietnamese I've ever had, Indian coffee, and crab. You can't not have crab in San Francisco.

The weather was dreadful, rained the entire time. Both of us went through 2 umbrellas each. We didn't really notice it much though, unless we happened to be hanging on to the outside of a cable car. The sun peaked out for about a minute on Saturday as we were walking around Alcatraz. Meant that my socks were actually dry for about an hour. Never underestimate the value of dry socks.

We only had one tense moment on the cable cars. We had just boarded the car in front of our hotel and were staring at the massive hill ahead of us, when we heard the operator yell to everyone that there was a problem with the brakes. He wasn't stopping until he reached the top, or the car would slide down backwards. Sweet. But we stayed on the car, and made it off alive.

We missed the girls tremendously. I've got to say though, it was so nice to be able to walk into a hotel room and NOT need to baby proof it. We've decided that we need to return, with the girls in tow. And a babysitter. Definitely a babysitter.

But one of the biggest highlights of our trip was the flight home. And yes, I'm being totally sarcastic. We were lucky enough to sit across the aisle from a lovely lady who was drunk as a skunk. The poor man seated next to her should be nominated for sainthood. She curled herself around him, vomited in HIS smoothie, played with his hair, and tried to take his bag. But it gets worse, ladies and gentlemen. Oh does it get worse. She peed. All over herself. In the seat. At the BEGINNING of the flight. Seriously people. I couldn't make this stuff up.

All in all, it was a fantastic trip. We ate. We walked, and walked, and walked. We desperately needed the time to ourselves. Just to reconnect. I know it will be a while before we get another opportunity like this one. So I'm glad that we made the best of this trip. And if anyone wants restaurant recommendations....

Scene in a Grocery Store: Aisle 8

2009-02-12T19:23:00.004-05:00

We're shopping at Walmart this evening. The girls are a little hungry, and we make it to the dried fruit aisle. All the sudden Sunshine drops to her knees and hugs a container to her chest.

Prunes, Mommy. Prunes. Can we PLEEEEAAASSSEEE buy some prunes. I want to eat some prunes. I haven't had prunes in so long.

I get down on my knees and calmly explain to my somewhat quirky daughter that we have an entire container of prunes in our refrigerator. She's welcome to have some of those when we get home.

But Mommy, we need more prunes. We need to buy some MORE. We can't run out of prunes. And I can eat them in the car. Please, please, please. (Still hugging container of prunes to her chest.)

All I can say is THANK GOD she's out of diapers!

The Kangaroo? Really?

2009-02-11T21:00:00.002-05:00

She's done this several times before, and I didn't really think too much about it. It wasn't until this weekend, when she wanted to play the game with her cousins, that I really paid attention to what she was saying.

The new Horton movie is a popular one in our house these days. Someone please tell me why, when my imaginative Sunshine wants to act out the Horton movie, the only character she wants to be is the control-crazy Kangaroo? Yes, she is bossy. Or for the politically correct out there, she's assertive, with a take charge mentality. Gosh, I wonder where she gets that from...

I fervently hope that we haven't created a monster. We're trying to help her understand that her way is not the only way to do things. That other people have perfectly wonderful ideas. Her Montessori school is really helping. So how do you teach a kid to be a good leader, and a good follower? By example, I know. But it's not always that easy.

And because transitions are not my strong suite, I'm totally psyched about this weekend. It's a long weekend for us, and Todd is taking me (yes, just me) to San Francisco. Imagine, four days of not having to chop up veggies into tiny pieces. Four mornings of sleeping in. I'm in heaven, and we desperately need some time together.

It's taken a lot of planning to prepare for this trip. There's the usual laundry to be done, meals to plan, directions for the kids (both furry and fur-less) to type up. But there's also the unusual: updating the will. It's hard to do, but so very, very important. So that is next on my list of things to do. Wish me luck.

The Playground Moms

2009-02-09T14:23:00.004-05:00

It is gorgeous outside today. Seventy degrees, just a tad overcast. Perfect day for a surprise picnic at this super cool toddler playground in Decatur. So I surprised the kids. Picked up Chick-Fil-A, and stopped at the playground for a treat. The kids were ecstatic. We stop at the playground fairly often, but it's rare that we bring nuggets with us.

I was feeling great until I hustled my kids up to the picnic table. With the weather so pretty today, the tables were packed with moms, nannies, and their charges; all enjoying a glorious lunch outside. The other moms were watching me as I laid out the chicken nuggets and milk for the kids. I heard on mom say, "Wow, frenchfries," to another. It was then that I noticed the other food spread out on the table. The FDA would be proud. Not a morsel of processed food could be found. Organic yogurt, veggies, hummus, soy milk. I'm not knocking any of this stuff, as it can often be found on my table.

Not too long after that I start hearing mutters about how their kids have never had fast food, or their child will only drink vanilla soy milk. Then began the discussion about the dangers of cow's milk and how chock full of hormones it is. I wanted to pack up my kids and leave, but I didn't want a bunch of Nazi playground moms to ruin a beautiful day with my kids, so we stayed. I smiled and asked the age of one little boy sitting across from us. The answer was short and terse.

I hate being judged. These women don't know me. They don't know that Sunshine will eat just about anything. They don't know that chicken nuggets are a super special treat. So why do they get to judge me? But then I realized that I was judging them. As they were sneering at my children eating, I was mentally calculating the dosage of valium/xanax/zoloft that allows them to make it through the day. (By the way, I'm not knocking any of those. I know they allow some people to function.) While they were talking about the evils of cow's milk, I was wondering where they hide their secret twinkie stash.

I'm trying to let it go, but it's not in my nature. Deep down, I know I do what is right for my kids. I think most people do. And I'm just as guilty as the next when it comes to judging others. But wouldn't it be so much easier if we didn't. I'd like to think that even though my parenting values are different from others, it doesn't mean that they are any better, or worse. Just different.

The bottom line is that you do what is right for your family, for your kids. I was quiet this time, embarrassed even. But the next time someone actually says something about the way I parent my kids, I might not be so quiet. I might feel inclined to remind them that we're all trying to do what is right. Because this parenting gig is hard enough without feeling like you've got to justify your every move.

The Random Minutiae of Our Week

2009-02-06T14:08:00.004-05:00

My little Ladybug is finally on the mend. (Mentally crossing fingers, toes, and just about anything I can cross.) I haven't seen the pediatrician this week, for the first time in 6. Gosh, I wonder if she'll miss us. I've actually packed the nebulizer away. Hopefully we won't need to drag it out until this time next year.

Yesterday it took me 90 minutes to take two girls the 6 miles to school. I just love traffic in Atlanta. Have I mentioned that before? I heard the traffic report about the accident on our road, decided to use the interstate, and missed the traffic report about the 6-car with injury accident on I-20. Lucky me. I think I need to get some "angry maracas" to keep in the car for such occasions. Might help my desire to yell obscenities at drivers who refuse to let me merge into traffic, and vigorously shaking something might actually make me feel better.

Sunshine is on Cloud 9. We have several refugees here this weekend; family members who have been without power and water since the ice storms in Kentucky two weeks ago. People, never underestimate the value of a warm toilet seat. But for now, The Sunshine Show is on without pause. She's loving having an audience here.

I'm completely psyched about tomorrow. Kristen Chase and I have been trying to get together for weeks, and we've got a date scheduled at Baby Loves Disco. Should be a blast.

Sunday marks the anniversary of my wonderful husband's birth. I think we might spend the day at Stone Mountain enjoying this marvelous peek at Spring. Have I mentioned how perfect Spring is here in Atlanta? Should be 75 and sunny here on Sunday.

Have a great weekend everyone!

The Learning Curve

2009-02-03T14:44:00.002-05:00

Ladybug is under the mistaken impression that if she throws her sippy cup down enough times, I will fill it with chocolate milk instead of water. Snicker. Oh how much she has to learn. It is amusing to see her following me around the house, tossing the cup every few feet though.

Our Lovely Life

2009-02-02T13:37:00.002-05:00

Today has been one of those days that, as a mother, I long for. With Sunshine safely ensconced at one of her favorite places on Earth (read: school) and looking forward to a play date this afternoon with her friend; Ladybug and I were psyched for an entire day to ourselves. This is such a rarity. I took it for granted with Sunshine, not realizing that subsequent children would not have this gift of Mommy entirely to themselves, and vice versa.

I was hard at work this morning. The remnants of last night's impromptu Super Bowl party had been dealt with. Breakfast dishes had been cleaned and put away. The laundry was churning away in the machine. I sat down, anticipating reading the latest updates from my favorite bloggers, when Ladybug climbed into my lap. She pointed to the computer and said, "Down, Mommy." How could I resist? I put the laptop down, and she laid her head directly over my heart. For an hour she stayed there; only moving to give me a nose kiss or to rub my cheek.

All we did was cuddle, and it was pure magic. You could practically smell the babyness of her. That baby powder-sweet scent that fades away as each child grows up and becomes more independent. It came flying back to me this morning, and I hadn't realized how much I had missed it. For an entire hour, my always on-the-go, new-activity-every-5 minutes, toddler was so still, just listening to my heart beat. I was so still, just in awe of this amazing gift she was giving me. I feel recharged.

It's all worth it. Every single second. That's why we do this. For just one hour like that.

Top Chef Wannabes

2009-01-30T10:51:00.005-05:00

I didn't just drink the kool-aid, now I'm making it and serving it to others. Montessori is simply the best thing that has happened to my kids, and I couldn't imagine a better way to educate them. I don't have nearly enough time to describe the amazing things that Sunshine does in her classroom. But it's not just Sunshine. It's totally rubbing off on Ladybug.

Now I'm lucky enough to have two great helpers in the kitchen. And no, that's not sarcastic. Well, not really. Sunshine cooks and empties the dishwasher and Ladybug has been watching, closely. She's actually tall enough to open the dishwasher. And now all my perpetually helpful kid wants to do is empty the silverware. The only thing she hasn't learned yet is how to tell whether or not the dishes are still dirty. All it takes is two minutes in the bathroom for her to have emptied the silverware bucket. Lately I've found more dirty silverware in the drawer than I care to remember.

Still I have no desire to staunch their unfailing need to help with everything that I do in the kitchen. God willing, it will last through their teen years. I'm alright with dirty dishes put back as if they were clean and a lot of spilled milk. I just want them to love being in the kitchen.

I have lovely memories of trying to sneak into my grandmother's kitchen when my aunts were cooking. I would try to steal a seat in the corner and hope that no one would notice me and kick me out. A little was learned about cooking, and I heard far more than my share of family gossip. But now it's my mom, sisters and me in the kitchen, with an occasional aunt or cousin thrown in for good measure. Well at least when we visit. The laughing is endless, and the arguments are riotous.

I'm trying to be different with the girls in the kitchen; not the disciplinarian I am in the rest of the house. Good Lord, that's hard for a control freak like myself. But you have to be creative in the kitchen. Actually, Sunshine made her first risotto several weeks ago. She did everything from dicing the vegetables to constantly stirring the rice. It was fabulous, and she ate four bowls of it. And last night, she made the homemade applesauce. Ladybug is jealous. She wants to do more. I know it's hard for her to see her big sister do things she can't. But soon she'll be making pizzas with the rest of us.

It's a Jungle Out There

2009-01-29T09:27:00.004-05:00

As I've said before, I have a comfort zone within which I travel here in the sprawling town of Atlanta. This comfort zone absolutely does not include interstates. We're fortunate enough to live in a part of town where I can find almost anything I need using neighborhood streets.

Southern hospitality pretty much stops the moment you start seeing signs for Atlanta. Going 70-75 in a 55 will result in someone flying around you, on the right, while most likely flipping you the bird. And for those of you who are polite enough to signal your intent to change lanes by using your blinker, don't bother. That will be met with the other person actually speeding up so as to prevent you from going anywhere. Oh, and a note to city planners everywhere. Sixteen lane highways should NEVER wind anywhere. Those lovely, tight S-curves around Courtland Street and Grady Hospital are death traps.

So needless to say, I hate driving on the interstates here. But yesterday I sucked it up. I strapped my Ladybug into her car seat and headed up the Connector to pick Sunshine up from her play date. It was raining, which I hoped would slow people down a tad bit. Wrong. I still cringe when I think about how fast people here fly down a rain-soaked highway. I only saw two spin outs though. And the massive accident that closed all eight lanes of I-75S was south of my exit.

Driving on the roads here forces me to confront my worst nightmare on an almost daily basis: that my children will perish in a car accident. It's not specific to Atlanta. But the drivers here are exponentially more aggressive. It's made the whole play date situation difficult for me. It's hard for me to let someone else drive my child around. I'm starting to let go a little, and I haven't requested a status report when they arrive at their destination. But it doesn't stop me from worrying. God help me when it is my child actually driving the car. I can't even begin to imagine the ulcer that will result from that milestone.

Enjoy!

2009-01-27T20:46:00.003-05:00

I've been in denial for the last six months. Every week that Todd works insane hours, I tell myself that it's only a busy cycle. It will be better in a week or two. But tonight it hit me that it will never get better. I guess the only surprising thing is that it took me 6 months to realize that.

So because I'm a little worn out, Ladybug is still sick, and I'm feeling about as creative as a lump of clay, a photo thread is about all I can muster the strength for.

Enjoy!

Every time we go to the zoo the kids love to "order ice cream" at the Naked Mole Rat playground. Sunshine always asks for chocolate.

I love that the girls still love holding each other's hands.

The pink chalk residue is still all over the floor. But it was worth it to watch them coloring together.

Love you all!

Behold The Manipulative Mind of My Four Year Old

2009-01-25T20:00:00.002-05:00

Sunshine had a friend over for a bit on Saturday while Ladybug was getting some much needed rest. The play date was not going well. Sunshine was furious that I had unceremoniously placed her in timeout and proceeded to throw a massive tantrum. I carefully warned her that I would be very upset if she woke Ladybug up. Then I left to walk her little friend home. Todd filled me in on what happened later.

Apparently Ladybug woke up right after I left. Sunshine wandered over to Todd and said, "Mommy doesn't need to know who woke Ladybug up. And if you tell her, I will be very upset with you."

I think we're just a little worried about this. It's not like she's been studying Game Theory, and I know that kids are master manipulators. But seriously, this is pure deception. And what else does she think that Mommy doesn't need to know?

It's baaaaaaaack.

2009-01-22T15:32:00.003-05:00

I knew it was back. Just when we thought things were getting better; it started again. The rising temperature, the spastic coughing, the overwhelming need to be suction-cupped to my side. Then finally, the awful wheezing. I dragged my poor little Ladybug back to the doctor again this morning. Two more rip-roaring ear infections, a still-sore throat, bronchitis-induced asthma, and many prescriptions later, we left.

Ladybug has been great about it. She'll cheerfully slurp down any orange or grape flavored medicine. She even says thank you after I wipe her nose. She's been such a trooper. Until I brought the nebulizer back out. Now she's no stranger to the gas-spewing fish mask. We spent almost two months attached to it last year after a nasty bout of RSV. Unfortunately she can't remember that far back.

It was so much easier when she was an infant. She would curl up in my arms, and I would place the mask over her face. She'd usually fall asleep within minutes, lulled by the hum of the machine. Not so anymore. She fought that thing tooth and nail. And I have the scratches on my arms to prove it. She wanted nothing to do with being in my arms if it involved having that thing on her face. It was so difficult to hold her rigid, squirming, scratching body. I felt awful having to contain her that way. After about 10 minutes of screaming, her body completely relaxed and she gave into it. Staring into her sad eyes, I felt even worse. She seemed broken. I know it will get easier. She'll get used to it in no time, but these next few treatments won't be pretty.

So once again my house has devolved into chaos. Cause NOTHING happens when there's a sick kid. I've got tons of emails to flip through, mountains of laundry to fold (though don't I always?), and dust bunnies in my corners that are approaching the size of actual rabbits. We had a play date today, so it's even worse than normal. Who knew three 4-year olds could do so much damage? Thank goodness for Magic Erasers. I probably should have cancelled, but it was actually a great diversion. Let me concentrate a bit on Ladybug.

Well, I can hear the whistling from downstairs, so I'm guessing it's time for another go with the nebulizer. Wish my little one luck!

This Momentous Day

2009-01-20T20:36:00.003-05:00

Whatever your politics, whatever your beliefs, this was a momentous day. I am proud to live in a country that can so peacefully hand over power. This in and of itself is rare. I am proud that my children will grow up during a time where someone's color doesn't preclude them from attaining the highest office in the land.

Congratulations, President Obama. May you face the many coming challenges with grace and wisdom.

Princess Sunshine

2009-01-18T19:50:00.009-05:00

We've just returned from what must be our 6th princess party this year. It's sweet, watching 15 4-, 5-, and 6-year olds dress in their finest royal regalia, pronouncing each other Princess of the Fairies. They run around the birthday girl's house, trailing wands, feather boas, tiaras, and plastic high heeled shoes. It's amazing we haven't made more visits to the ER as a result of those silly high heeled shoes.

Now that Sunshine has reached a certain age my presence is no longer required at these parties. I walk her in, make sure she's found the birthday girl and the bathroom, and say my goodbyes. I return, usually within two hours, to collect my (sugar-crazed) beautiful princess and make sure she says Goodbye, Thank you and Happy Birthday. It is then that the wrestling match commences.

Extricating this child, or any child for that matter, from a birthday party without incident is damn near close to impossible. But, Mommy, I want to stay. I'm having so much fun, she'll scream. Please, Please, PLEASE don't make me leave. They have balloons here, and juice, and candy, and cake. And Mommy, can I PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE live here? And if I'm really lucky, she's putting on this show while lying prostrate on the ground.

I am getting close to perfecting the quiet "We Must Leave Now, and DO NOT Embarrass Me" speech that is meant to let my daughter know that I am in no joking mood and she had better come quietly. I say this because today, my daughter left absolutely without incident. She very politely asked if she could wait until the birthday girl opened her gift, and then we left. It was completely magical.

I couldn't help but notice that one of the girls at the party wasn't dressed in a princess costume. She stood out amidst the sea of pink polyester and tulle, wearing a pair of black pants and a grey shirt that had a dog on it. A dog with a rhinestone tiara. I had to laugh. That girl's got spunk. I'm not sure I could ever convince Sunshine that a sparkly rhinestone tiara on a dog was princess worthy, but I've got to try. She's coming over for a play date next week. But for now, I give you Sunshine...

One of the two beautiful princesses of the Poole House.

I admit it... It takes a Village.

2009-01-16T12:56:00.005-05:00

I secretly scorned all those people espousing the virtues of having a village available to help you raise your children. I laughed. I could raise my children all by myself. That's why I had them. To, you know, raise them. I absolutely detest help. Just ask my wonderful husband. I am the Queen of I Can Do It All By Myself. Except for home repairs. I don't do home repairs. At least not the messy stuff.

Now, I'm about to do something that I never (well, hardly ever) do. I'm going to say that I am wrong, and damn it, I WANT A VILLAGE. I desperately need one uninterrupted block of time a week without my children and someone I trust to care for them. Someone who will reliably show up at the appointed time to whisk my beloved children off for an adventure that is solely their own. An adventure that it seems like I haven't been up for these days.

So, ladies and gentlemen, I'm going to the nunnery. Well, I guess there isn't a nunnery around here. But there is Agnes Scott. So that's where I'm heading. And I'm not leaving until I find me a babysitter.

Goings on this week

2009-01-16T09:14:00.003-05:00

I think this week has been one that I'd rather not repeat. Ladybug has been plagued by a nasty combination of fever, virus, and ear infection that is still raging. She feels miserable, and all she wants to do is be held. By Mommy. Hence the sparse posting. Having a very sick child suction cupped to my side combined with the jealousy of her big sister has had a draining effect on any creativity I might have had. I could vent all day about "baby slop" as Sunshine calls it, but you don't really want to hear about that. And I'm a little tired of living it.

She is feeling a little better today though. She wants to actually move around a little on her own. The only problem is that her balance is still way, way off. She's bumping into everything and falling over. So she's crying, a lot. It's heartbreaking to see so many huge tears pouring down the cheeks of a child who never really cries.

So now I get to deal with the aftermath of our lovely week. Luckily today is a special day. Sunshine has a play date after school, at someone else's house. So I'm a free woman. Well, as free as a woman can be with a little one alternately suction cupped to her side or falling down and crying. But I don't have to pick up Sunshine from school, and I know she will have a fabulous afternoon with her friend. And what's even better... I don't have to think of a way to get Sunshine off the playground on this super cold day. Cause you know kids NEVER feel cold when the opportunity to swing arises. I can put Ladybug down for a nap when she actually needs to get down for a nap, and perhaps get some work done.

Adjusting to working from home has been difficult. I am mystified by people who do it. Sunshine has been balking about what this whole work from home thing means for her. The disappointment when I pull out the computer is palpable. We have a deal where we'll work on two activities together, and then she gets to work by herself while I work by myself. I'm reluctant to rely on television babysitting. We've finally gotten her to the point where she doesn't ask to watch television. And I like that.

Come to think of it, a timer might help. Perhaps if Sunshine knew that a ringer would bring her Mommy back to her world of Candy Land and Go Fish, she might be more willing to allow me some quiet time to work. Sadly though, the ringer would probably only mean that it's time to make dinner. Just not enough time in the day, is there?

Well, folks. Stay warm today. It's cold out there. Even in Georgia.

Let's Go Surfing Now..

2009-01-13T14:32:00.002-05:00

Ladies and Gentlemen, we have a counter surfer. Just when I thought we'd only have to tackle this issue with our dog, our littlest one starts taking lessons. Sunshine never had an issue with this. Our counter tops in Richmond were out of her reach, even with chairs. So now I get to tell myself, over and over, "NO MORE KNIVES ON THE COUNTERS."

There is some payback though. She hasn't yet figured out how to get down without falling. So she's stuck there, calling to get down, until I think she's had enough.

The Pediatrician Chronicles: Visit One

2009-01-11T15:00:00.003-05:00

After my last disastrous visit to the girls' pediatrician, I decided it was time to find a new one. I asked around, got some recommendations, and made an appointment. We showed up about 15 minutes early, filled out the paper work, and waited. And waited. And waited. And waited. Then we saw a nurse, got a weight/height check, a room, and waited. And waited. And waited. And did I mention that we waited?

How long is too long to wait for a pediatrician? All told, we waited for 1 hour, 40 minutes. Call me crazy, but I think that's excessive. Granted, she was good with Ladybug. Gentle, calming, cracked a few jokes. She even introduced herself to me when she walked in the room. And introducing yourself before you examine my child earns you major brownie points. I didn't even have to pay for parking.

But it's hard to entertain a kid, first in a waiting room, and then in an exam room. I'm reluctant to let them eat, because what if the previous occupant had a kick ass case of the stomach flu? I live in fear of the stomach flu. The two times that my family has come into intimate contact with the stomach flu were the only two times that I've actually prayed to die. There are only so many games you can play with a 19 month old in an exam room. Especially a 19 month old with the attention span of a fruit fly. And I'm fairly well prepared.

So bottom line: I'll give her one more chance. We've got another appointment on Friday. But until then, I'm curious. How long would you wait? Is it worth it for a good pediatrician?

The times that try my soul

2009-01-08T20:21:00.003-05:00

Being married to an attorney isn't easy. In the beginning, I wasn't always fair. I didn't necessarily understand the long hours. If you go into work at 6 am, you should be able to go home at 4. Right? That's what I did. I was (more than) a little hurt when he wanted to go out for drinks with people after work. I think I was probably lonely. I don't carry around my "bag" with me anymore, but I do think most of our fights that first year were about work. You know the bag, right? It's the place where you tuck every argument, fight, and nasty comment in order to pull it out in the middle of the next argument.

It took me a long time to realize that I was making this so much harder on him. I had the power to help him, or hurt him, and I was hurting him. The realization that he didn't want to be at work was a major one. It hit me like a ton of bricks. Maybe it took having children to make me realize that. He wanted, more than anything, to be home with us. Todd works because he has to. We are where he wants to be. Huge difference.

After that, I just let it go. Told him that we love him, we miss him, and we'd be here when he got home. And I've got to tell you, it's made life SO much easier. Now it doesn't mean he works fewer hours. Quite the contrary, I'm afraid he probably works more hours now than he ever did before. But I know that every hour he's at work is another hour he'd rather be here. Whatever it is he has to face at work, at least he knows that he won't come home to an irate wife. Well, most of the time.

That being said, these last few weeks have been really hard on me. It was Christmas, and all I wanted to do was be with my husband and children. It took a lot for me not to beg him to come home before dinner on Christmas Eve. I realized today, that we've not had a family dinner together this year. We do what we can. Sometimes we have breakfast together (it is the most important meal of the day, after all), and sometimes we drive up and meet him for lunch. But because we're trying to save like crazy that doesn't happen too often. I know these 18-20 hour days are awfully hard on him. I can't bring myself to make it harder. So, dear readers, I'm venting to you.

To the (SLAVE DRIVERS) lovely people who (TREAT MY HUSBAND LIKE A MULE) employ my husband:

I know we've become accustomed to crazy things like a roof over our heads, and food on our table. Trust me, I want that to continue. But do you realize that you are (SUCKING THE LIFE OUT OF HIM) making it difficult for him to have a life outside of work? I would like you to know that he leaves (AT THE BUTT CRACK OF DAWN) early in the morning, and comes home well after his girls have gone to bed. And then, dear (SLAVE DRIVERS) employers, he often works at the kitchen table for several more hours. I know you would be far happier if he just moved into the office. After all, his chair is quite comfortable. However, that just doesn't seem right when you leave work at much closer to 4 pm everyday.

I also think that perhaps you could benefit from a lesson on managing. Someone told me, a long time ago, that you catch more flies with honey than you do with vinegar. Now I don't always subscribe to this theory, but my husband does. Just once, please say "thank you." Try it out sometime. It might flow a lot easier than you think it will. I know it's a gateway word. It could lead to saying things like please, have a great day, great job. But none of these are four letter words. And your employees might actually appreciate them (WHILE YOU BEAT THEM WITH WHIPS).

OK. Rant over. I had to get it out of my system before the Annual Firm Dinner tomorrow night. I'm much less likely to snipe now. I know Todd appreciates it.

Thanks for all your hard work, honey.

Again she makes my heart melt.

2009-01-06T20:53:00.002-05:00

Sunshine painted this beautiful picture for me the other day. I'm not quite sure what exactly she was trying to paint...

But I do know exactly what she was trying to say at the bottom of the painting.

She wrote "mome." (Phonetically "mommy") Her first cursive word. And it was MOME. I don't think I could be more proud.

Daddy, Look What I Can Do...

2009-01-05T15:32:00.002-05:00

During our trip to Virginia we had several opportunities to try out the facilities at various fast food establishments and gas stations. I use the term "facilities" loosely. I have a huge phobia concerning nasty, germy bathrooms that having small children has forced me to confront on a near daily basis. Gas stations are the lowest of the low. At home I have a comfortable area within which I travel. At any point within this area, I know of several relatively clean restrooms available for use. When we travel, all bets are off.

At one particularly delightful location that had just one stall, I wasn't about to actually sit on the toilet. I didn't want my kiddo to either, so I introduced her to the concept of "hover peeing." (I know it's never talked about... but EVERYONE does it.) She's no where near tall enough to do it on her own, and it required a good amount of upper body strength for me to hold her over it.

That was almost a week ago, and I didn't think much about it until last night. Todd had the girls for the evening while I went out to dinner with a girlfriend. Apparently while he was getting Ladybug undressed for bathtime, Sunshine decided she was going to hover pee all by herself. Of course, it didn't really work well. Todd was a little unhappy that I'd shared my little coping technique with her because, of course, he got stuck with clean up duty.

I realized that I probably should have been a little more specific, explicitly telling her that she wasn't big enough to do it on her own. Kind of like the warning tags on hair dryers that tell you not to dry your hair while in the shower.

The Epic Milk Battle Continues...

2009-01-03T08:35:00.004-05:00

Ladybug: Cup please, Mommy. Gesticulated wildly at her half-full cup of lemonade.

Mommy: Sure, kiddo. Handed cup to Ladybug.

Ladybug: Took one sip of lemonade. Sour look upon her face. Tossed cup to floor.

Mommy: Would you like some milk?

Ladybug: Yes. Yes. Yes. Milk, Mommy.

Mommy: Poured cup of milk and gave to the extremely excited little girl

Ladybug: Took one sip. Screamed shrilly, and tossed cup to floor. CUP PLEASE MOMMY, she yelled.

Mommy: Handed her the full cup of milk. Here you go, kiddo.

Ladybug: Tossed cup to floor. CUP PLEASE, MOMMY, she yelled.

Repeated cycle every few minutes for the next 90 minutes.

Finally the most determined look came over her face. She stood on her tiptoes and grabbed the cup off the table. And drank the entire thing. Score.

Mommy 1: Ladybug 0

Though I still have no idea what she actually wanted in that cup.

Christmas Magic

2009-01-02T19:42:00.005-05:00

Yes, a shameless photo post. I couldn't resist!

Waiting oh so patiently for Daddy to see if Santa really came. (Read - getting the DVD recorder ready.)

Sunshine was absolutely thrilled that the reindeer ate the carrots that she carefully peeled.

Seeing that magic in their eyes was priceless.

Her first car. Sniff.

Nothing like a nap after an early Christmas morning.

Non Incautus Futuri

2009-01-02T14:13:00.002-05:00

I think most close family and friends probably realize that we have never been happier to say good bye to a year than we are now. It's had more than it's share of challenges, though we've probably been luckier than most. Still, I now finally understand what it means to welcome the new year.

We've got so many plans for the new year. Not resolutions, but plans. But before we can really accomplish anything, I need to get a hold of my daily life. Sounds simple, right? For me, not so much. I'm perpetually behind on laundry. The house always seems to be in a state of total chaos. And sometimes I barely know what day it is.

But this year HAS to be different. We had a great start yesterday. All the Christmas decorations were carefully packed up and taken down to the basement. Now if you know us, you would know that the Christmas decorations might be boxed up, but it would take us 2-3 weeks to actually bring them down into the basement. Heck, one year we kept our tree up until March. We were thinking about decorating it for Easter.

I've been on a total tear today: packing up toys for the toy rotation, washing and folding laundry, grocery shopping, putting away the china from a party we had in November. The kids think I'm nuts, and they're getting quite protective of their toys. Sunshine has been quietly hiding toys her toys in the hopes that I won't see them and they won't make it into the rotation. Ladybug has been running around the playroom clutching as many toys as she can fit in her arms. Keep in mind these are toys the kids haven't played with in months.

So... now that I'm getting my house in order; I need to get my life in order. I need to start looking beyond the next event/weekend/milestone. Not unmindful of the future. That's my new motto.

Now if only I could figure out how to do that....

Over the River and Through the Woods...

2008-12-28T20:00:00.003-05:00

Hello from Virginia. We are visiting family for the holidays. Well, I should say that we'll be here for just three quick days. Not nearly long enough. With no family in the lovely state of Georgia, I desperately miss the hustle and bustle of these humongous family gatherings. Aunts, Uncles, siblings, and cousins. Many, many cousins. My family knew something about procreating.

I love that we can cram so many women into my grandmother's postage stamp-sized kitchen. I love that we work so flawlessly together in said postage stamp-sized kitchen. Well, if you consider several small arguments about whose mother was going to live with who, a burned pan of mac and cheese, one flying green bean flawless. The green bean was really good.

Somehow supervising the children downstairs became my responsibility tonight. Not quite sure how that happened, and I'll be sure to have several glasses of wine before doing that again. For the most part, I like to be there primarily to avoid a costly trip to the ER. I actually enjoy watching the children try to work out their little tiffs on their own. They're incredibly creative. Not always fair... but creative. And who knew that the "it" toy this year would be a play microwave. Yes, Ladies and Gentlemen, that is what the children are fighting for over here. A play microwave.

I'm super psyched about tomorrow. I get to go shopping. At the butt-crack of dawn. Without my children. With my mom and sisters. At the Victoria's Secret Semi-Annual Sale. See, and you thought I was being sarcastic. And my husband's even excited about it.

Could it get any better?

Merry Christmas to All, and to All A Good Night!

2008-12-24T22:59:00.004-05:00

The Apple Store elves were working overtime this year. I got my MacBook back, and it's beautiful. It's embarrassing how much more productive I was when I did not have my computer just a room or two away. I even got the bathroom counters cleaned and the laundry folded. I even just managed to finish wrapping presents. Good thing, too, seeing as Christmas is tomorrow. The tree looks beautiful. I think the girls will be thrilled. As for Todd and I, we just can't wait to see the look on their faces.

Merry Christmas to All, and to All a Good Night!

It's gone...

2008-12-21T20:08:00.002-05:00

The Apple Store is holding my MacBook hostage for the next 7-10 business days. I predict that by tomorrow afternoon I will be huddled in a corner, eating my hair. Either that or I will be incredibly productive tomorrow. Let's hope it's the latter.

Posting will unfortunately be dependant on my husband's nightmarish work schedule as I will need to fight him for his computer. He automatically wins. Something crazy about needing to support us. If anyone wants to call me when Redneck Mommy updates, I will be forever in your debt.

Love to everyone!

Silly Mommy... Why would you think I wanted chocolate?

2008-12-20T18:23:00.003-05:00

OK. So now I'm really bummed. Todd is working. We're all a little off today. In an attempt to add a little spontaneity, and perhaps a little whimsy, to our day; I decided to make chocolate chip pancakes for dinner. Chocolate? For dinner? Yes. Me. I actually made something chocolate for dinner. What did my oh so grumpy kid say? "Mommy? (Of course it is in her most sarcastic, know-it-all voice.) You made chocolate pancakes? But I wanted couscous for dinner." Are you kidding me? She wanted couscous? I'm trying desperately not to take this personally. But seriously, no good deed, folks.

Searching

2008-12-20T16:49:00.004-05:00

I haven't gotten any sleep in two days. I am WAAAAAYYYYY behind in doing laundry, and I ran out of sheets for our bed. I had to resort to using a set of sheets that I never, ever use. They're satin. Luxurious, or so you'd think. No. Wrong. So very wrong. They're awful. And every time I put them on the bed, I remember why it is that I never use them. (Except until I run out of all other clean sheets.) My pillow slips off the bed. The blankets slip off the bed. I almost fell off the bed. At around 3 am, Todd asked if I was still awake. I was, and he suggested sleeping in between the blankets. That just completely defeats the purpose.

Things have been really busy. Aren't they always? We've had a lot to do these last few nights, and the girls have been going to bed way late. And weirdly enough, getting up a little early. Combine those with smaller nap times, and I feel like our house is a powder keg waiting to blow. Todd and I are tired and grumpy. The girls' moods are rapidly cycling between giddiness and severe grumpiness. Sunshine and I had a birthday party to go to today for one of her classmates. So in addition to being tired, she's now hyped up on sugar. Super. I'm actually a little jealous of Todd who got to dash off to work when I returned home with Sunshine.

Cookies to bake, presents to wrap, ornaments to repair, mountains of laundry to fold... I feel like I'm missing out on the joy of the season. I can't seem to get past what I need to do. I don't want any of this to feel like a chore. Maybe it's the weather. It just doesn't feel like Christmas when it's a balmy 70 degrees outside. Maybe it's just a long, tumultuous year coming to an end. I don't know. Whatever it is... I need an injection of holiday spirit. It seems a bit hard to come by this year. I want to go see some Christmas lights, spend just one evening with the girls doing nothing but having fun. Todd is working tonight, so maybe tomorrow. Definitely tomorrow.

Once every year, around this time, pigs fly....

2008-12-17T19:44:00.004-05:00

This is the one time of year my husband enters the kitchen for something other than sneaking tastes of what I'm cooking. It's my birthday, and every year he makes me a birthday cake. The last two years, Sunshine has helped. It's such a treat to watch them, because I don't pick just any box cake recipe. I like a loaded carrot cake. Nothing in the world better than homemade carrot cake with cream cheese icing. This particular recipe involves shredding carrots (so much fun to watch him try to figure out the food processor), whisking eggs for what seems like forever (because our hand held mixer died and I lent out our large one), and the addition of lots of fun, complex spices (like cinnamon). Todd is such a good sport. This particular evening has been made all the more special because it is now almost an hour past the girls' bedtime, and Ladybug keeps taking her diaper off. She does love her naked time, and I love this man more than life itself!

Ai ya... Ai... Itai... Aeya... Oy Vey!

2008-12-16T14:56:00.006-05:00

On what must have been an incredibly frustrating day, many, many moons ago, my lovely mother (and I'm not being sarcastic when I say that. My mother is lovely.) put a bowl on the top of my head. And she cut. Now I know my sister and I were not the only children to suffer from the dreadful bowl cut. I'm sure it was fairly popular back then. But I still cringe when I look back at photos taken of me around that time. What can I say? I have beyond stick straight hair, and that bowl cut is meant for people whose hair curls just a tad at the ends. At least then it looks just a little bit feminine. Me... not so much. I looked like a boy, a boy with an awful hair cut.

I've often wondered about what possessed my mother to do something so drastic. And now I know. I have two beautiful little girls of my own. One of them with long, beautiful curls, what must be an incredibly sensitive scalp, and the lungs to let me know when I've damaged said scalp. Of course all I have to do is look at her hair and that is damage enough. She flees with the speed of a baby cheetah at suppertime when I suggest that it is time to brush it out. When I finally manage to wrangle my child, her hairbrush, and whatever I'm using to torture her hair with on that particular day, she screams and waves her hands. "Mommy, you're hurting me," she yells... before I've even touched a hair on her head.

It is starting to take every ounce of strength I have not to threaten her with the bowl cut. She really does have the prettiest curls. It would be such a shame to cut them off. I know I won't do it, which is why I don't threaten to do it. I hate not being able to follow through on my threats. Seriously though... something's got to give. I hate starting our mornings this way. It's not a total monarchy though. She does, for the most part, get to choose how she wants her hair done on any particular day. It's just that it must be brushed. For a while I joked about how hard I must be pulling her hair, and how the children in China must have felt it. Worked for a while. But now, I'm just plain out of material. Maybe I'll teach her "Ouch" in several languages and we'll laugh as we try to pronounce each word. Any other suggestions?

He Said What?

2008-12-14T21:49:00.005-05:00

I can't even begin to tell you how fantastic this weekend was. Well, Sunday was great. Friday night and Saturday... not so much. Ladybug screamed all night on Friday. And I do mean ALL NIGHT. Anyone who knows my kids knows that they are probably the world's best sleepers. I put them to bed at 7:30 pm, and don't hear from them until close to 7 am. Ladybug has always been this way. I can probably count on one hand the number of times she's woken up in the middle of the night. I know it sounds a little unbelievable, and trust me... there aren't many people that I tell that too. I have no desire to be the target of a sleep-deprived new parent.

So after screaming all night long, I called the pediatrician. She had had a fever on Wednesday and Thursday, and I was a little worried about ear infections. Did I mention the fact that she screamed bloody murder ALL NIGHT? After the doctor, who didn't bother introducing himself, listened to me talk about how fantastic a sleeper she is and how out of character it was that she SCREAMED ALL NIGHT LONG, he had the nerve to say, "So you mean to tell me that you brought your daughter in this morning because she was a little fussy last night?"

I had gotten less than 3 hours sleep that night, and I was thinking a little slow. I did manage to sputter out something about how he must have misunderstood me. That "a little fussy" didn't begin to describe the tirade that occurred. We ended up leaving the office with a nice little diagnosis of "virus." Now honestly, that's what I expected.

What I didn't expect was the level of disrespect I received from the physician treating my child. I expect that her doctor should take into consideration the fact that, at this point, I know my child far better than he does. I have no patience for a physician that does not believe me or listen to me when I tell him important information regarding my child. I absolutely will not tolerate being blown off by my child's doctor. So we're leaving the practice. When I have calmed down, I will write a letter describing why we are leaving. Don't quite think I'm there yet. To add insult to injury, the parking payment machine gave me back $17, in change. Lots and lots of change.

The weekend did get a little better. Ladybug slept perfectly on Saturday night, and I got a nap. I actually managed to finish most of my Christmas shopping, at least the thing I had to get before school ended for Sunshine. Actually that alone should make the weekend a stunning success.

It's Beginning To Look A Lot Like Christmas

2008-12-12T16:03:00.004-05:00

We went to see Santa this past weekend. It's difficult to tell exactly who looks unhappiest in this photo. Well, maybe not. Ladybug was sincerely unhappy when I unceremoniously placed her on Santa's lap. Santa really doesn't look thrilled either. Sunshine was ambivalent. I should probably add that this is the first year Sunshine has gone anywhere near Santa. She even managed to suggest, in her quietest voice, that Santa bring her a sled, some skis, and some skates. We've been reading the Berenstain Bears' Christmas a lot lately. We can't seem to convince her that it doesn't snow here in Georgia and those particular gifts really won't work well.

I think what was most amusing of all was the fact that they tried to lock us into a photo package before the girls even got so much as a peek at Santa. Are you kidding me? Do they really think I'm going to pay $25 for ONE photo of my kid screaming on Santa's lap. I think the issue was that they didn't want me to use my camera. Well, really. You mean I can't use my camera, but everyone and their brother can use camera phones? I told them in my nicest, you must be crazy, voice that I would have to wait and see what the photo looked like before I would commit to purchasing it. The sad thing was that I would have been more than happy to purchase a photo if the prices had been anywhere near reasonable.

We went to the Aquarium later that day, when what to my wondering eyes should appear, but another Santa, although missing his reindeer. We were quick on the uptake that day and explained that Santa was following us around. How cool it was that we got to see Santa twice. Sunshine didn't seem to notice that the second Santa really didn't look anything like the first. I think all she noticed was the red suit. I don't think that explanation will work next year.

We're a little late with the Christmas cards this year. Since none of our Santa pictures passed muster; I'm going to try again this weekend. Wish me luck. For every fabulous picture you see of the girls, there are fifty more with Sunshine trying to put Ladybug in a headlock, and Ladybug doing just about anything she can to break out of Sunshine's grasp. We may actually be sending out New Year's cards.

Play Dates and Clay

2008-12-10T16:24:00.003-05:00

Sunshine's teacher suggested during our conference that she might benefit from play dates with several of her classmates. She's making friends, but perhaps some time together out of the classroom would help her feel more at ease in the classroom. Always one to complete my homework, I invited several children to spend the afternoon at our house. Different afternoons, of course. I'm not a total masochist. I did accidently schedule two play dates for the same day. Luckily I realized it at about 5 am one morning, and had just enough time to correct it. That's always a fun conversation. "Gee, I really screwed up dates, and I've double booked my kid. Do you think we could reschedule?"

All in all though, the play dates have gone fairly well. It's strange... having play dates without the other parent there. Makes me wonder how my kiddo behaves when she goes to someone else's house without me. Does she demand first choice because she's the guest? Is she loud? Is she a picky eater? How well does she share? I guess it's all about chemistry. She plays really well with some children, not so well with others. I think you could call it the perfect play date if I don't have to do any mediating; if the girls can occupy themselves with no input from me.

Sunshine was behaving a little badly during today's play date. She had very little interest in sharing, and cried several times. We spent a lot of time talking about how we should behave when we have guests. How exciting it is to have friends come to our home. That how sometimes friends can have some really great ideas about what to do. She wasn't very receptive. That's when I thought she could use a hug, and realized that she was burning up. Poor kid finally managed to contract whatever it is that has slowly been making its way through her class.

I'm exhausted, and I'm so glad that we don't have anymore child-only play dates scheduled. Hopefully the next few will take place at someone else's house. I don't have to do carpool tomorrow (don't actually think Sunshine will be attending school tomorrow anyways). Yippee! There's no more auction project work for a while. (What was I thinking, joining the committee to create the classroom auction project?) I'm not creative. And, as I discovered this morning, I can't even cut clay evenly. Thankfully one of the other parents spent most of the morning telling me that I was doing a lousy job cutting the clay. I'm so happy, because I was actually planning on quitting my day job to devote my life to ceramics. Now I know I would be wasting my time.

I would say that I'm looking forward to the weekend because I'm exhausted, but frankly I need the shopping time. Seven more mornings to holiday shop without Sunshine and counting. Actually 6, thanks to the awesome fever bug that just bit us.

All By Myself

2008-12-06T10:16:00.003-05:00

I get very little time to myself. During the weekend, when Todd is home, we like to spend time together as a family. He rarely takes the kids out by himself. Well, today he took the girls out to get a gift for my birthday. Before they left, Sunshine looked up at me with those gorgeous hazel eyes. "You're going to be so lonely, Mommy," she said. Well, not really. But I didn't tell her that.

Definitely One I'm Going to Tuck into My Parenting "Bag"

2008-12-06T06:36:00.004-05:00

The girls were earsplittingly loud after school yesterday. About 30 seconds before I was about to pull my hair out, I sent them out onto the porch. Told them they could scream their heads off for as long as they needed to. The hitch was that they couldn't leave the porch, and that they had to speak in indoor voices when they came back inside. You would have thought Christmas came early. I don't know why I haven't thought of this before. They screamed and screamed and screamed for close to 15 minutes. And thanks to the incredible insulation in this house, I could barely hear it. They were perfect, quiet angels for the rest of the afternoon. Saved my sanity yesterday.

Speaking of saving my sanity, a little sleep might help. That lovely "mommy radar" that wakes me up at the slightest sound in the middle of the night needs to go. Any sound after 3 am, and I'm up for good. Definitely doesn't make for the happiest mommy come dinnertime. I think that's my witching hour. It's not even really the girls waking up. It's just them crying out in their sleep, or the cats playing, or a crack of light in the curtains. I've already invested in room darkening curtains and eyeshades to get rid of any stray beams of light. You know those LEDs on alarm clocks can be so intensely bright. I guess I'm going to have to start thinking about ear plugs. Heck, why not invest in a sensory deprivation helmet or something. Now that might allow me a full night of sleep. Speaking of sleep, the girls are evidently done with that for the night, as I hear the sounds of singing from their room.

Have a wonderful weekend!

It's really December? Already?

2008-12-04T14:21:00.003-05:00

So I think I'm definitely in the running for the World's Worst Gift Giver. Ask my family. It's either a lousy gift on time, or a decent gift several months too late. I just can't seem to get it together and do both at the same time. Case in point... my sister's birthday is in June. I finally managed to find her gift in October. To be perfectly honest though, it was a great bag. Christmas is a tough time for me because it requires that I have gifts (good gifts, even) for lots of people, all on the same day. I wish I could be one of those people who painstakingly hides gifts away throughout the year. That simply requires organizational skills I just don't possess, or maybe I'm just too lazy.

Most of the time, I just can't think of what to get someone. I have not one creative bone in my body. Inspiration will eventually come, but it usually arrives long after the actual holiday or birthday. It's far easier when I see the person everyday. But I've lived so far away from family for so long, that I don't really know what they would love. I wish I were a little more like my sisters and mom. They've had their shopping done for a while, and they're so incredibly creative. Their gifts are always spot on, thoughtful. Christmas has just snuck up on me this year.

I've been working really hard over the last few days on some ideas that I have. I just don't want to have to resort to gift cards. I know... it's nice for the person to actually be able to pick out something that they like. (Especially when the gift comes from someone like me.) But I really do want to find that perfect gift. I think what I need is a huge kick in the rear in September. A countdown perhaps. I would probably still ignore it, waiting until Dec 1 to start placing online orders. Lets just hope my expedited shipping costs aren't too high.

Smooth Flying and Lots of Mints, I hope.

2008-11-26T09:45:00.003-05:00

Travel day is upon us. I think we're totally packed. Of course I'm probably forgetting some crucial item that when discovered missing, will illicit a massive fit from my drama queen daughter. Girls are so emotional. Of course I've let them pack the babies of their choice, but when bedtime comes it will naturally be the wrong baby. Same with books. I've had some of their favorites packed away for some time, just to help them become "new" again. They will most certainly be the wrong books come storytime.

It's become increasingly difficult to pack clothes for Sunshine. She really likes to take charge of her ensembles, and I completely support that. I'd like to think that I'm helping her develop some self-confidence. As long as her clothes are clean, and she's warm, the "what to wear to school today battle" is not a hill I want to die on. However, it might mean she goes to school on a lovely winter day in a sundress. I do insist on leggings and a shirt underneath. I usually also let her choose how she wants her hair, as long as it looks neat. But when we travel, I would prefer my children not look like rag-a-muffins. I'm a little afraid of the tantrum that will ensue when she realizes that the butterfly dress was not packed. It will be enough to completely throw her day off. Hopefully letting her choose from a group of neatly bagged (complete) outfits will be enough to satisfy her urge to control.

Luckily Ladybug still doesn't care what she's wearing. As long as it has easy diaper access, she's a happy camper. I am worried about the "lap child" portion of today's traveling. She's so not going to want to sit in our laps. I'm afraid that the fact that we're flying out at naptime is also not going to help. My kids are sleepers... in bed... in a dark room. They've never slept with us, or in our arms. So the potential for a cranky, tired kid who can't sleep and doesn't want to sit in our lap is high. I can just see the glares on the faces of our fellow travelers today.

It's absolutely exhausting flying with children. Most people don't see the sheer energy that is required on the part of parents to ensure a good flight. We constantly worry about the people in front of us, and is Sunshine kicking their seat? The people around us, and are our kids too loud? You have to be so on top of things, anticipating the wants and needs of the children well in advance of the children asking for something. One little misstep, and you are automatically relegated to the status of lousy parent who let their kid scream "throughout the entire flight." People are so intolerant and unforgiving.

Here's hoping I have everything; books, a new notebook for drawing, raisins, apple bars, magna doodle, babies, and mints. Lots of mints. Sunshine knows what good Mint behavior is. We're trying to relate that to good plane behavior. Ladybug loves them too. She just doesn't have a great grasp on the need for good behavior to get a mint. Maybe I could convince our fellow travelers that they'll get a mint if they don't stare at me like I'm ruining their entire vacation simply by daring to bring my kids on a plane. My kids can certainly show them what good Mint behavior looks like!

Well, if I don't get the chance to post tomorrow... Have A Very Happy Thanksgiving!

Butterflies, continued.

2008-11-25T23:05:00.002-05:00

So... any suggestions on what I should do with the butterflies that are now almost 3 weeks past their "expiration date?" I'm so not hiring a pet sitter. I think I just may have to release them if they're still here when we return from visiting family.

The Things They Take to Bed

2008-11-23T20:43:00.002-05:00

There were never any loveys or binkys in our house. Sunshine never needed them. The pacifier was thrown out of the crib at age 7 months, never to be seen again. She never really adopted a special blanket or toy that she had to have to sleep. Secretly, I was both disappointed and glad. I'm a bit of a germ-a-phobe. The thought of my kiddo physically attached to a potential germ magnet gives me the shivers. But I still have my blanket from when I was little. Actually I have both of them. Yes, Grandma Hay. My elephant blanket and my blue knit blanket are alive and well! I still remember the smell of the elastic on the corners of my elephant blanket as it came out of the dryer. It's the scent of my childhood, or at least I like to think it is. I'm sure my parents would disagree.

I would love it if Sunshine attached herself to something that she could look back and hold as an adult. Now, there is Jungley, that beautiful little elephant that Sunshine herself picked out a couple of years ago. She doesn't have to have Jungley to sleep, but it's definitely her favorite animal.

Now Ladybug's attachments are absolutely riotous. There are several things that stay in her crib; her pillow, a baby, a barbie, several books, maybe a sippy cup of ice water, 2 soft blankets. The books are a must have. As soon as we start to say our nighttime prayers, Ladybug scurries around the room and tosses several new ones in. Given her penchant for wearing dirty clothes on her head, her newest attachment should not surprise me. She has taken to picking out a piece of clothing from the hamper and taking it to bed with her. It's almost always something of Sunshine's that was worn that day. I do try to hide the really messy things. Last night it was a little different. She was hell bent on taking a cold, wet washcloth, that I had used to clean her face, to bed with her. I couldn't let her do that. Even I have my boundaries. I hid the washcloth as deep in her hamper as I could. She was crushed, but as we finally finished saying her prayers, she grabbed a pair of Sunshine's jeans. They were the only thing that could console her. I could put the hamper up, but I'm sure my kiddo would find some piece of used clothing somewhere. I actually think this behavior will eventually extinguish itself. Probably when we move her out of her crib and she has the ability to curl up with her sister instead of just with her sister's clothes.

Because you were all so patient...

2008-11-20T21:26:00.003-05:00

Updates

2008-11-20T20:09:00.005-05:00

The dinner party last night was a great success. Amazing considering one of Todd's bosses decided that day that no one needed to take off for Thanksgiving. Nothing says thankful like telling your employees that you don't care what their plans might be for the holidays. The food was good, the conversation was plentiful, and no one cried. A high standard of success for your average kid's birthday party or a dinner party with colleagues who don't socialize together.

We were lucky enough to not get hit by the stomach flu that roared through Sunshine's classroom. She was one of three kids who didn't get sick. I can't tell you how thankful I am that we dodged that bullet. Wow, I'd better find some wood, and fast. That was practically an invitation for the Gods to smite me with an extra long incubation period.

All in all, things are going well. Sunshine is doing moveable alphabet work and wants to skate all the time. Thanks, Aunt Ashley. Ladybug has started trying to console her big sister when she's having one of her drama queen moments. It's so sweet to watch her rub Sunshine's back when she's laying prostrate on the floor, crying. Todd is still super busy at work... but because I am the BEST WIFE EVER, he is now at the Ga Tech-Miami game. I even get bonus points because it was a very last minute invitation. I am also doing well, especially after learning what wonderful things happen when you combine figs, olives, goat cheese and walnuts. It's a sublime experience.

Seriously though, now that this dinner party is over I get to start concentrating on Thanksgiving. It literally takes days to plan for trips with my kids that last longer than just a few hours. Packing when there is a flight involved is all the more complicated. Why is it that it takes everything but the kitchen sink to care for my children in a place other than our home? Ladybug still requires a pack n' play to sleep. That will be fun to take on a plane. Add the car seats to that and we're just about at our luggage limit, without any clothing. Thank goodness for gate check. Do you think they would let me just gate check my kids? Just kidding, kind of. Well, just a couple of days to go. Let the packing commence!

Sisters

2008-11-14T21:12:00.003-05:00

Tonight we watched our little Ladybug share all of her ice cream with her big sister. And she was excited about it. Later they held hands and tried to run together down the sidewalk, laughing the whole way. Can life always be like this?

The Butterfly Trials

2008-11-12T20:14:00.006-05:00

Todd and I have been toying around with the idea of getting a fish for Sunshine. She always seems up for new responsibility. Thankfully we tested our idea out with butterflies first. We gave Sunshine a Live Butterfly Pavilion for her birthday. It's actually an amazing gift. We sent away for caterpillars, watched them grow stunningly large, form chrysalids, and hatch into butterflies. Sunshine loved it. We feed the butterflies sugar water and orange slices. We watched them lay eggs. Theoretically, you're supposed to release the butterflies after you've spent a few days observing them. Unfortunately it's too cold here to do that. These butterflies are supposed to have a three week life span. We're going on four. Sunshine stopped wanting to care for them after two. We're so not ready for a fish. We had these grand plans to hatch some of the eggs into new caterpillars and start the process all over. Yeah, NO. I really just want to get rid of the butterflies. We'll send away for some more in the spring. Hopefully then we can release them when Sunshine tires of them. All in all, I highly recommend this if you think your kiddo might be ready for a pet of their own. Saved me from taking care of yet another little creature.

The Flu Loves Us, The Flu Loves Us Not... Here's Hoping NOT!

2008-11-12T19:48:00.003-05:00

Today was my day to drive the kids to school. Pulling into the parking lot, we noticed that there were very few cars there. After hauling ourselves up three flights of stairs, we noticed that no one was in line to great their teacher. Normally there's a line at least five kids deep. Turns out 22 of 30 kids had spent the night and morning vomiting. Fabulous. What's the likelihood we miss the stomach flu roulette? I'm not hedging any bets. We took a quick trip to Walmart today to pick up the stomach flu essentials, ginger ale, pedialyte, and crackers. I think I've washed my hands 30 times. I so don't have time for this.

Things Past, and Things Yet to Come

2008-11-11T21:02:00.002-05:00

Busy few days lately. Todd has been working so hard, and the girls seem really needy. Ladybug's molars are coming in and she's clingy. If she could velcro herself to my shin and ride around all day, I think she would gladly do it. It helps that she's discovered how much fun hugs and kisses are. She can't get enough of them, though she's picky about who she'll give them too. Even Sunshine has been a little out of sorts lately. The crying fit she threw yesterday (for no reason whatsoever) could have been an Oscar-winning performance. She promptly passed out for two hours after it. I'm going to blame it on the time change.

These kids are still getting up an hour earlier than they should be. Trust me, the patter of little feet at 5:30-6 am is zero fun. According to Sunshine, the sun is up - so she should be too. Silly sun, we say. Didn't anyone tell him about the time change? Unfortunately, in order to check how high the sun is, she opens up the blackout drapes that we have installed that are so crucial to Ladybug's good sleep habits. I am all about convincing my children that it is pitch black outside in the middle of the afternoon. So all this checking up on the sun's progress inevitably wakes up Ladybug. Screaming for Daddy ensues. Also not necessarily a pleasant way to wake up.

All this waking up early leaves the kids minus an hour of sleep, and Mommy and Daddy a little cranky. We're compensating though. I'm way less creative, have WAY less patience, and I practically pass out on the couch by 9 pm. But I am rather chipper in the morning. I don't remember it being this bad last year. But then again, I can barely remember what day of the week it is.

The next week and a half are going to be insane. So I apologize if posting is sparse. We're hosting a dinner party for Todd's office next week. It's going to be relatively formal. Invitations were sent. Beautiful invitations, I might add. A menu has been painstakingly planned. Good Lord, I'm nervous. No one in this office socializes together. I have the sinking feeling it's going to feel like Forced Family Fun Time. But it's important, and hopefully the cocktail portion of the evening will relax everyone a bit. Alas... the call of the To Do list is overwhelming, and it is already way past my bedtime. Night, everyone.

Busy like bees this morning.

2008-11-05T10:34:00.003-05:00

What a crazy, busy morning. I managed to change all bed sheets, neaten and vacuum the upstairs, clean the girls room, clean the ginormous master shower, and get myself showered. Ladybug had an industrious morning as well. She managed to empty one full toilet paper roll and a nearly full box of tissues. She also emptied a full laundry basket of her clothes in search of the perfect pair of underpants for her head and the bookshelf of all of its books. Thinking that perhaps the upstairs had returned to its normal state of chaos, she decided to lay down for a little rest... in the dog's bed. It's OK though, she brought Sunshine's newly cleaned pillow and blanket in there with her to make it a little more like home. Now I remember why I miss morning naps!

Trick or Treat

2008-11-05T07:44:00.002-05:00

I thought you all might want some Halloween pics of the girls. Sunshine was beautiful. She wanted her hair in a bun like Mommy, and it's been that way every day since. She pranced around in those silly plastic heels, even running at one point to see some friends of ours. Ladybug was adorable. She said "thank you" for the first time, and insisted on saying it to everyone we saw. Regardless of wether or not she got candy. I love it. A fabulous time was had by all.

Doing Our Civic Duty

2008-11-04T15:28:00.002-05:00

So we got the kids up this morning at the ungodly hour of 6 am to vote. Waking my kids up in the morning is generally not a good idea. It's FAR better to let them wake up themselves. This morning went smoothly though. There were only a couple of threats to take away the lunchtime piece of Halloween candy if Sunshine didn't get dressed. It worked. My sugar-deprived kid thought that it was more important to keep that piece of candy, and we were dressed and in line to vote at 6:30 am.

We actually had a nice time standing in line. The girls were thrilled with the cereal in a bag and juice boxes. Anything that changes an ordinary morning, right? Two hours later we were done. Sunshine proudly displayed her Georgia Voter sticker and told everyone within earshot that she voted. She's a little young for a civics lesson, but she really enjoyed it. What's really nice is that they're BOTH napping thanks to the early wake up call.

Happy Election Day, everyone!

Anyone with the right Lotto numbers?

2008-11-03T20:19:00.002-05:00

I've got a bone to pick with law firms these days. My husband works so very hard. Most days he's gone by 6:30 in the morning. Lately, we're lucky if we see him by the time the girls go to bed. Mostly it's well past their bedtime. The worst part is that no matter how much work he does, it's never enough. Several years ago I came to the realization that he does not want to be at work. He would much rather be home with us. Work is something that he does to pay the bills. Ahhh, if only we didn't have to worry about such silly things as food and housing. Seriously though, it's a little sad. I would love for him to enjoy his job as much as I do mine, but looking at it this way has helped me to tell him that it's OK. I understand that he needs to be at the office. I miss him, but I'll have dinner waiting when he gets home (sometimes).

You want to give 110% to your job. You need to give 110% to your job because there are lots of other people out there who will if you won't. Part of that is what makes it so hard. You'll work 14 hours a day, but someone out there will work 15. But how do you do the same for your family? Something always seems to suffer. I've got to hand it to Todd though. When he's home, the girls and I are his top priority.

I feel so terribly guilty that he's missing so much of the girls' formative years. I know that he's doing this so I can stay home with them. It would be so much easier to break this cycle if I were working. He could start his own firm, or take a job that he really enjoys. The thing is... I really love my job. I couldn't imagine doing anything else. Todd is completely supportive, which actually makes it a little harder. I feel so guilty, and so selfish. Here's hoping we win the Lotto, right?