What happened to summer?

So what that it's 90 degrees outside (and inside for that matter). So what that school hasn't yet started for Carolyn. So what that we just kind of hang out on these long and lazy days.

Summer officially ends because, today, I'm 35 years old.

Ugh... But what's a aging mom-type to do? I'm thinking Chinese buffet. Maybe a half dozen cocktails. I did spend my morning running, which has brought me into my 36th year healthier than at any other time of my life.

But enough whining from me. There's girl news to be had.

The other day, Carolyn was saying, "Oh. I've gotta crap."
What?????
She's squatting, insisting on this and also saying something like, "Racoto."
Penelope finally filled us in by cheering for her insistent sister. It was "Bravo" and "Clap."
Oh! That's much better.

Penelope is nearly fully potty trained. At least the front half of her is. She even stopped wearing diapers to bed. But when it's time for the big potty time (see Carolyn's misinterpreted line above) then she wants her diaper. Another mom told me that's common, so I'm not too worried about it.

We just had a house full of people for about a week and a half. It was super fun, but left us super exhausted. Here's a picture of the zoo, where we took the girls and their cousins, Jeremiah and Isabella, while their parents took an overnight trip to Chicago. It was fun having four kids (I even braved the grocery store, just to see if I could do it) at least for a few days. If I had four, I'd for sure lose one.

My reputation precedes me

Yesterday, Steve gave the girls a bath. I told him not to wash Carolyn's hair, as she had a shower earlier in the day.

When I came downstairs to bring them pajamas, I went in to see how things were going.

"Daddy got my hair wet," Carolyn said.
He did?
"He wasn't supposed to do that," she said.
No, I said. I guess not.

"Are you going to yell at him?"

Sick and two

My little Penny woke up this morning in quite a state. I got back from running to find her sitting on the couch, acting very morose. I thought she was just worried about not being able to find me, but then she threw up all over the couch, checking my ego and starting a vomiting trend that was not soon to end.

Fun stuff. Carolyn is unaffected and seems to be enjoying a morning of Sesame Street and Popsicles.

On a possibly unrelated note, Penny really showcased her desire to disagree with anything I say yesterday. Penny, I say. You can't stand in the doorway without pants.

"But I don't like pants," she screamed.

"Then get out of the door," I say.

"But I like the door."

Here's Penelope a few days ago, feeling just fine.

Who is Michael Phelps?

Well, obviously he's a gold-medal swimmer, and perhaps one of the best Olympians of all times, but he's definitely not as cute as my little swimmer.

She's holding up her gold medal for you.

Sweet Devil Child of Mine

I've been known to complain once or twice about the terrible twos. But this is who Penny really is:

Today, we split up the girls like we do when it's pretty obvious they are not going to have a great day. There's nobody on the planet who spends more time together than two siblings who aren't yet in school, and sometimes they need a break too.

I took Carolyn to the zoo and a new playground. Lots of fun. Penny went to the grocery store, dollar store and playground with Steve.

At the dollar store, Steve promised Penny a new puzzle, her recently favorite obsession, which of course she mastered in about a day. He also got her a coloring book.

I guess Penny insisted Steve also buy a coloring book and puzzle for Carolyn. And she wanted to get the activity book featuring Ariel, because "Sister likes the Little Mermaid."

How freakin' sweet is that! So here's to Penny — the sweetest 2-year-old on the planet. At least today.

The sounds of silence

I just have to say, if you're ever in need of a gift for the girls and decide a coloring book is the perfect choice, you won't get any argument from anybody in this house.

We (I!!!) love blissfully quiet coloring time.

School days

After all my fretting about preschool (rather my fretting about Carolyn not going to preschool because I waited too long to get her in the school I could A) afford and B) walk to), I simply called the director today and asked if Carolyn could be put in the 5-year-old program.

Sure, the director said. No problem!

I'm so pleased. Carolyn just finished her summer program yesterday, and I have to say, she's really turned a corner in the last few months. The teachers gushed about how social and happy she is. During the class performance (they sang a few songs) Carolyn was right out in front. Her teachers said she loves to sing and is destined for Broadway.

I just think Carolyn will love preschool. And bonus, the class is four days a week right during Penny's nap. No excuse for not being published in the New York Times now...

Fw: This is hilarious

This is a real e-mail I received from Steve today.

Also, on the way into school day, Carolyn looked at an older lady coming out and yelled “That woman has really big breasts!” I’m hoping she was too far away to really hear it, but I told Carolyn not to talk about people’s breasts because it’s not nice. But on the other hand, Carolyn was right, they were big.

Of course the racetrack was my favorite part

I can't believe I did a whole blog about going to Minnesota, and failed to mention that we went there to see mom. She's racing horses at Canterbury. We spent a fun day at the track, complete with corn dogs and ice cream.

A few days ago, I sent a friend some of this blog from 2006, it's glory days. Upon reading the entries, at which time Carolyn was the same age as Penny, I realize being 2 is tough for everybody. So whenever I catch myself saying, "I don't remember Carolyn refusing to wear anything but her butterfly shoes and Little Einstein pajamas," I can step back and recall what a terror our little angel was.

Here's a little of what I mean.

June 29, 2006

Just a bit ago, Carolyn took a toy from Penny that I made her give back (it's part of the fun "mine" stage) and Carolyn, out of frustration, tried to gouge out Penny's eyes.

Sept. 19, 2006

Carolyn's her typical funny self. She likes to pretend she's a baby, which I'm sure is a deep-seeded cry for help. She's recently started telling Penelope "Nanananana-No." She sings little high-pitched songs to herself and wanders around the house, much like Ophelia must have done before she drowned herself.

Oct. 23, 2006

And so sometimes Carolyn strikes out in a diva-bitch manner. Give her a break. She still hasn't perfected sentences.

And just think about how tough Penny will be. Carolyn doesn't have enough time on Penelope to get too mean before it comes back to haunt her.

It's like I'm some kind of toddler prophet.

Return to Normal

We just returned this week from our trip to Minnesota. As firsts for the whole family, we visited Minnesota and Iowa. We went right through the flood-ravaged area that caused so many problems for Iowa earlier this year. It was weird to be walk through an older Midwestern town where everything was either brand new or in the process of being renovated.

The trip was great. We, of course, visited Mall of America. We also went to this really awesome farmer's market that reminded me a great deal of Washington D.C.'s Eastern Market.

The girls were great, except for the first night when we heard Carolyn calling for us from the bedroom and found Penny on top of her, trying to gouge out her sister's eyes. Also, Penny got carsick on the ride home and pucked up a half a bag of baby carrots. Steve was able to catch most of it while we sped along the Iowa expressway looking for an exit.

But it was our second pretty long road trip of the summer and I think we're finished for awhile. We have a plane trip scheduled for October, so we'll see if that's any easier (hahahahahahah!!!).

Rainbow girls

There are some activities for the girls that, while I'm not opposed to trying, I am trying really hard to put off as long as possible. It's because once they try it, and love it, it makes it harder to say no. If they didn't know something, say American Girl, was the best thing since pesto pizza, they don't ever ask for it or want it. This is exactly why I wrote to American Girl and asked to be removed from their catalog mailing list.

Just because it's inevitable doesn't mean it can't be postponed.

I felt this way about festival face painting. Whenever you go to one of those festivals, the line of the face painting lady is ridiculous. And at $7 a pop, not exactly cheap. But Carolyn must have heard someone talk about face painting at school or the playground or something, because all of a sudden, she's got her heart set on it.

And if Carolyn has it, dollars to donuts Penny has to have it too.

So our pre-face painting lives are a thing of the past. But even though it's totally a scam and annoying and wasteful, don't the girls look cute!




Carolyn's a butterfly!
Penny's a tiger. A rainbow tiger!

And the worst mother of the year goes to...

...
You guessed it. You're favorite bumbling mom has done it again.

Today, a lifeguard rescued Carolyn from the pool. I was standing two feet from her, and I'm pretty sure she wasn't drowning, but still. The whole event, with the whistles and the 18 teenagers running to our aid and then silently judging me, was pretty traumatizing.

Carolyn's been the recipient of nosefuls of water in the past, but never accompanied by fear or tears. Today, we had a fair share of both.

And while I was super embarrassed, really, the worst part of the whole experience is feeling like I should have kept a closer watch on our little swimmer. There's no way that should happen. Ugh... I'll take embarrassment over that feeling any day.

In the end, we managed to calm down, get back on the horse (back in the deep-end of the pool) and sort of enjoy the rest of the day. In the midst of all this, with poor little mortified Carolyn, I thought, and even vocalized, "I forget how small you still are." I do. Maybe it's the plight of the first child.
But no more excuses. And no more lifeguards. And, please, no more near drownings. Here's a video (post-lifeguard, so you can see we recovered nicely) of the perfectly safe little kid slide we clung to so dearly last year.

Safety Town girl

Yesterday, I took the girls to Safety Town. It's a small course that teaches kids about road signs and stuff, but mostly it's a good place to let the kids ride their bikes without crossing streets and dealing with a-hole drivers, like the one who almost hit me today because, obviously, stop signs do not apply to jerks. Silly me.

Penelope can't quite figure out the pedals, but that is not slowing her down at all. The girl's got some amazing sense of timing, if you ask me.

Thinking of you

I'm definitely in summer lag mode. Why is it impossible to get anything accomplished when it's light outside for like 15 hours a day? It's a mystery I'm willing to live with, only because I kind of love these long and lazy days.

I feel like this summer, I have very little to do and oh-so-much to think about. It's a life in transition, but nothing too exciting is going on right this very second. I did run my first five mile race a few days ago with a time of 50:54, which I'm pretty happy about.

(*note: I actually ran in 50:47, which made me feel good about myself. But then 2 seconds later, I realized I placed 448th. Hmmm. Not so good)

But that's it. Today, Steve took Carolyn to see her first movie at the theater. Penny and I went shopping, which is one of her favorite things to do (we got her some new shoes and Little Mermaid underpants, fingers crossed). Here's my favorite funny story from the girls.

• When Penelope is being especially naughty (like, every 10 minutes for the last two months) and I say something like, "Penny, it's not nice when you hit Fife over the head with that truck," Carolyn always chimes in with this: "But I'm nice mommy. Aren't I nice?"
The other day, Carolyn shoved an entire banana in her mouth. When pieces started falling out onto her leg and she started scooping them up to shove them back into her mouth, I said it's not polite to eat like that. I told her that's how monkeys eat bananas. So Penny said, "But I eat it right mommy. Don't I eat it right?"

Ice cream madness

It is hard impossible not to consume too much ice cream this time of year. You're at the pool and starving. What better hot weather treat? You want a fun after-dinner outing. Of course the ice cream cone is the perfect solution.

But last week, we got ready to pounce as we heard the ice cream truck coasting through the hood. Were we ever disappointed when he picked the street behind us and the final street on his route. Poor Carolyn, following on my heels as I scrounged for change around the house, as we were left ice creamless and a bit sad.

So when we were biking down the trail last week, and spotted Mr. Ice Cream Man on a cul-de-sac, of course I let the girls have a tasty, cold treat. Sure we had just eaten a snack of grapes, but this is the ice cream man, the same one who apparently wasn't getting enough business in our neighborhood.

As a side note, Carolyn put a puzzle together this morning. Penny ran up to her and said, "Carolyn! You are so cold." I think she meant cool, but perhaps her sister's frosty disposition had finally pushed Penny over the top!

For anybody interested in Eastern Europe, check out my cousin's travel blog at http://abstrakkt.blogspot.com/ or cesty ~ путешествия ~ travels ~ reisid ~ podróże It's quite good, and a bit of a history lesson for anybody interested in them there parts.

Pool Penny

In light of my recent admonition of moms who have their kids enrolled in too much organized stuff, I realize the irony in my decision to put Penelope in swimming lessons.

Sure I could say I want her to swim for safety reasons, or because she loves the water so much I feel strongly that knowing how to properly swim might save her life.

But these would be lies.

The truth is, now that Carolyn can swim, I'm sitting there with Penny while all these little kids are enrolled for the summer, and I just feel a little bad that Carolyn gets to do it and Penny can't. So I decided to give it a go, knowing full well that my non-water loving Penelope might not take to it as well as Carolyn did.

The thing is, she took to it just as well. Maybe a little better, after having watched the routine going on six months now. Ms. Connie, the girls' teacher, told me I was so lucky to have two kids who both love water.

Who knew? Certainly I didn't.

The lesson went so well, in fact, that a mom who had planned on waiting until September to enroll her toddler decided to start next month. See that. Now I'm a trend-setter.

Who knew. Certainly I didn't.

Here's pics and a video of swimmer Penny.

Using what's left

For anybody who doesn't know, our little Penny is a leftie.

I thought it was kind of cool when she just naturally did things with her left hand. It went a long way with me in a realization that some things are not about nurture. Some things come down to the hardwiring.

But in practice, being left is kind of a pain. It's hard to teach her things. Hold a pencil. Use a fork. Swing a bat. These are things I just don't do with my left hand, so it's hard to demonstrate. Also, I have to consciously think about which way to hand her the fork, almost every time I do it.

And that doesn't even address our future pains. Left handed golf clubs. Left handed scissors. Left handed can openers. It's endless for the up to 10 percent of the population born to be left.

Kind of like pounding a square peg into a round hole. No wonder so many lesbians are left-handed. No really... they are.

Summer of Chris, part 2

So I'm sitting on the couch, enjoying a lovely cup of tea, thinking about how I just finished my last story and in the first time in more than a year, I really don't have anything to do.

Usually, these situations make me a little anxious. But I think I'll wait until next week to start worrying.

Everything here is super awesome. The weather is amazing. Today, the girls and I picked wild flowers and went to the playground. Steve took the bus to work this morning, so we'll probably walk halfway to pick him up tonight.

See... fun stuff!

Here's a picture of Carolyn being fancy, just like Fancy Nancy from the children's book. She has her sparkly scarf and sparkly shoes and sure did look extra fancy.

And I took this video of our practice camping trip we did in the backyard over the weekend. The girls take turns standing in front of the window and put on a show, which is either singing or a story. Penelope can really ham it up, as you can see.

Summer swimming

Ah, here we are again. Too busy enjoying summer to blog. Or clean. Or talk to Fife. Or... you get the point.

We're back at the pool. Only this year, we're doing the pool big time. We go to the deep pool (four to five feet, so I'm still able to stay above water a little) and I pull Penny around while Carolyn climbs out, jumps in, swims around a little and starts all over again. Since I kind of love being submerged in water, this new routine is working out very well.

Carolyn is attending this summer program. She loves it, mostly because her teacher, also a Carolyn, actually knows her name and doesn't call her Caroline. Penelope always runs up to Carolyn when we go to get her, hugs her tight and says, "I'm proud of you sister."

The class is during Penelope's nap, so that allows me a solid hour and a half to work watch television/play on the Internet/nap/stare out the window.

And today, Steve taught Carolyn this little bit of hilarity. It's not as foxing funny as learning fox sounds just like the F-word from Penny, but it's still pretty cute. I'll try to post a video soon.

Give me five (Slap hand)
Up high (raise hand)
Down low (lower hand and move it quickly away)
Too slow.

(Then she makes a hole with her finger)
Put your finger in the hole.
(I've never hear this part! I do what I'm told)
You just broke my toilet bowl.

I need a new summer song

That's because summer is here. Woohoo... Yeahhhh... Summer!!!!

Since these days I'm relaxing poolside, by which I mean desperately trying to keep both girls at the shallow end as they continually disappear behind a wall of bratty preteens who keep splashing me in the face, I don't have a lot of time to blog.

So here's the skinny. Carolyn is really great. She's playing quietly in her room at the moment while Penelope naps. When I say, "Carolyn, it's time to leave this super fun pool to go home and sleep," she says OK. She knows almost all her letters (she has a hard time with R for whatever reason) and can write her name. She's just waiting to turn 5 so she can get a library card.

Penelope. Well. We love Penelope. We really, really do. But sometimes, it's a little hard to remember. It's that little thing we call the terrible 2s, like when I say we have to leave the pool and she screams (and kicks) for the entire 10 minutes it takes to drag her out of there in a scene that makes it necessary for me to apologize to the teenagers working there.

Oh, she's a handful, my Penny. But we love her and smile politely when people say, "Oh she's so pretty. She's so sweet. She's so polite." Um. Yeah.

That's it right now. Just know that I'm super tan, muscular from all my running and biking, and totally in need of a babysitter, in case any of you know any. Have a fantastic summer.

How I turned my daughter into a racist

Let me begin by saying that karma is bullshit. Complete BS.

Steve and I spent Saturday being very good people. We saved a nest of bunnies (ahhh... bunnies!!!) from certain death. A grocery store clerk gave us $20 he thought we dropped and we returned it. We made this three-day holiday a car-free Memorial Day weekend.

So we were completely stunned by what Carolyn did at the playground. She walked up to this black man playing with his daughter and said, "You're a different color."

Aghhh. It was totally humiliating, made worse because I'm not sure we handled it correctly. We immediately pulled Carolyn aside and told her it wasn't polite to point out people's differences. Too tall. Too old. A wheelchair. A different color. But it's just something she's noticing right now, along with eye color, hair color and the fact that she has nipples.

This is making for a very awkward line of questioning.

The worst part was I felt like a should have said something to the guy, but couldn't bring myself to look his way. I just know he thinks we're a couple of suburban yahoos who've kept their children separate yet equal. And it's true, her school was completely white. Our neighborhood is largely white. Our city is mostly white.

Should I have told him, "Hey guy. Sorry about that, but I was raised in Detroit." Or perhaps, "I take her on the bus where there's lots of black folks." How about "I contributed to Barack Obama's campaign."

Really, it's an eye opener that we need to have more discussions about these things with Carolyn and Penelope, especially since we live in a not-so-diverse community. It's not Carolyn's fault, but deep down I feel like it's kind of mine.

And just for the record karma, we saved bunnies. Does that count for nothing?

Just a fish

Here's Carolyn this year at her grandma's pool. I'd say it was much better than two years ago, when she scared the creamed corn out of everybody.

Back to real life

We just returned from a nearly week-long trip to Tulsa. It was really fun — I got a chance to work on my sunburn, the girls got to play in the pool, we ate our weight in delicious restaurant food — but it's nice to be home. These trips, especially the driving, are tough and everybody is kind of in wind-down mode today, except for Steve who might in fact be in wind-down mode, but is doing so at work.

While in Tulsa, I ran my first 5K. Not to be outdone, Steve and the girls participated in their first one mile fun run, with Penelope coming in dead last, but still greeting everybody she walks by. See:


(*note: Penelope isn't waving, Steve tells me. She's holding a flower and admiring her flower as workers gather the orange cones behind her. When I say last, I DO not exaggerate.)

We'll miss everybody in Tulsa, but the girls will especially miss their cousins Jeremiah (who Penny calls Mia) and Isabella.




Also, I just got an A in my anatomy and physiology class, not that it matters. But still, how'd that happen!

Mother's Day

I had the best mother's day. Steve and the girls made it great. We're all very busy right now, so I won't bore you with anecdotes of how cute Penny is, or how grown up Carolyn has become, or how much fun Steve and I are.

But here's some pictures.

Why do we grow old?

Because we do, that's why.

It's Carolyn's new favorite obsession. What is time? Why do babies get older? Why don't old people get younger? Are you old? Is Fife old? Penelope's not old? Why wouldn't Peter Pan want to grow up?

Just because, OK. Things get old. I get old. Dogs get old. Tea kettles get old. It's just the way the cookie gets old and crumbles all over your couch leaving you both unsatisfied and messy.

But Steve tells Carolyn this problem has plagued physicists for years. Why does time, one of the four dimensions, alone move in one direction? Things move up and down. They move backward and forward. Why does time move in only one direction?

Carolyn literally rolls her eyes through this little speech. I tell her to listen to her Daddy. He's a smart man. But she goes back to asking if grandma is old, to which I say of course she is.

On the younger, less cerebral front, Penelope is turning into one of those people who's good at everything. You know, the kind of perfect person we all hate. Today, she's a kite-flying prodigy.

While Carolyn and I were struggling to get our kite to fly for longer than 30 seconds, Penelope was standing in the middle of a field, unassisted, flying her kite to perfection and even looking a little bored. Of course. I don't have a picture because I was failing at my own kite-flying efforts, but here's one of the girls in the bike on our way from the grocery store to the park for a picnic.

Greatest hits

In the newspaper today, we got the annual inundation of Mother's Day ads. Included, stuff for your favorite "soccer mom" at Farm And Fleet. This reminded me of a hilarious piece about Mother's Day, which of course I wrote. Yes, I'm so lazy I'm rerunning my blog.

Enjoy.

Mother's Day offered at low, low prices

A farming supply store ad came in the paper today promoting of all things — Mother's Day, which, if you're counting, is more than a week away.

In addition to a full page of kitchen appliances that would warm the heart of any housewife, and by heart I mean kitchen, this store was running sales on patio furniture, garden statues and grills to create "Mom's perfect backyard getaway."

Nothing mom wants more than a gas grill with 5,000 btu's. Mmmmm. I can smell the hot dogs cookin' already.

Fact is, Mother's Day is a horrible idea, right up there with Valentine's Day and New Year's Eve. I include Christmas on my list, but I'll leave the religious holidays alone for now.

The very best Mother's Day ever, and I mean the whole nine yard of good food, expensive presents and an endless adoration, could have been achieved any day of the year. And bonus — without a day dedicated to these three feats, add surprise to the list.

But for all the other moms waiting patiently for breakfast in bed while dear old husband snoozes away to the sound of screaming babies, the day is an utter letdown and marks you as the bad wife and mother you really are. If you were, in fact, a good wife and mother, you wouldn’t be brewing your own coffee while your 2-year-old screams for a cartoon that isn't on television Sunday mornings.

It's worse than if Mother's Day had never existed at all. Single people, Valentine's Day's got nothing on Mother's Day. If you're single on Feb. 14, you can pretend it's because you're too good for what's out there. There's no hiding from the fear of bad parenting.

But I'm sure all these tired, unloved mothers letting tears run freely into the cereal bowl just have to wait a while. That grill's sure to be waiting in the backyard with a big red bow, 10 pounds of red meat and a case of Bud.

And the leave en mass

For two weeks, my little family has hosted either house guests, dogs or some combination of both. And now, they are gone.

I'm feeling a slight load lifted, but also a little sad. Also a little hung over.

First, my mom was here for a little trip before she moves to Minnesota for the summer. My aunt and grandfather, who were in Vegas for the winter, were driving home and needed mom's help because my grandfather is 92, and while in very good shape, still 92.

So my mom left her little, blind terrier, Princess, and her super awesome hound mix, Buster (strangely, both from me and Battle Creek), while she went to Vegas. Buster was able to get me out of bed nearly every morning pre-dawn to go running. Yes, running!

So last night, we had everybody, plus my aunt's giant German shepherd, at the house for dinner. And this morning we bid them all a safe trip home.

And this afternoon? Nap. Playground. Leisurely bike ride.

Wow. After reading that, I don't even feel hung over anymore. I love guests.

Toy story

The girls and I hopped on the bike yesterday and hit some garage sales.

Penelope immediately found a Little People house that she knelt beside and refused to abandon. For $5, it was the perfect second-hand find.

But it brings me to my dilemma. Toys. We have too, too, too many toys. Perhaps it's because I, the only child of a shopaholic, gave birth to two beautiful girls providing fodder to the desire to spoil little girls. Or maybe, the toys get busy when we're not looking and multiply at a frenzied rate. Or many, I'm a lousy housewife and just don't clean out the toy chests often enough.

But it does not explain the clusters of stuff. There are a few (many, many) categories of toys taking over the girls' rooms, the basement, the living room and one of the bathrooms.

They include:

Horses. I believe Carolyn might have fancied horses for about a week sometime in early 2007.


Bunnies. This might be Easter related. Also, I have no idea why this is underlined.


Ducks. Also, perhaps, Easter related. Also part of our Barnyard overload.

Little People. I think I mentioned this.



The list also includes kitty cats, wild cats (leopards, cheetahs, tigers), dogs, teddy bears and dollys. I'm thinking a garage sale is our best option at this point.

The mother of all haircuts

I took the girls in for haircuts today. Carolyn's is a cute little bob (nothing too drastic). But Penny? Penelope, queen of the super long hair.

Gone. I figured, much like Carolyn's first major cut, if it's long enough to give to Locks of Love (an organization that makes wigs for cancer patients) than I can't go in and just get a few inches lobbed off. It's really a change, and she had such lovely hair, but it's done and it'll grow.

So here's the photo show.

Note the first picture is the girls this morning, in all their crazy hair glory.

Growing girls

Both girls spent today, the most beautiful of spring days, being super awesome. They were great at the grocery store. They were great at the playground. They are just great.

Here's my favorite today moments.

Penelope, without prompting and just because I think she thought it, told me she really liked my haircut when I returned from my hair appointment today. She said, "Your haircut is really pretty."

Steve, who I thought had set her up, seemed equally surprised. He said it was really nice of her to notice...

Then Carolyn finally got up the courage, with Steve's help, to ask the neighbor kids if she could come over and play on their jungle gym. She went over by herself and was the best guest ever. "I love your slide. I really like this over here," she'd tell the older Jordan. Carolyn was just a little sweetheart.

Just feeling really hopeful. That's what a little sun, and red wine, will do to ya.

Oh Penny

I was just checking my e-mail when I turned around and saw this:

Penny stealing coins out of my wallet. Now, while you might think stealing is a rather strong term in regard to a 2-year-old, I tell you my little Penny is crafty enough that it nearly applies.

Oh my Penny. She's about the sweetest little thing ever, aside from the stealing and the total disregard for my potty training efforts. Around strangers, she's even a little shy.

And here's my absolute favorite thing. She's totally content to be alone. Steve said she drew in her coloring books for about an hour by herself yesterday. And today, with Carolyn in school and my recovering from the novacaine used to install my brand new gold tooth, Penny being able to entertain herself is about the best gift any mother could have.

As a special thanks, I just gave her purse with her very own plastic cards (not credit, not yet), an empty compact and an old cell phone. That's Penelope's idea of the perfect gift.

Toilet terror

I give up.

I'm just going to invest in Pampers and call it a day. Penelope is untrainable.

This morning was traumatizing for the whole family. Penny screamed so piercingly at the suggestion that perhaps she just sit on the potty for a moment that Carolyn came in and said, "Mommy, stop hurting Penny. She doesn't like it."

And it's not as easy as just letting her run around without diapers, which is what I did with Carolyn. Just being without a diaper is enough to send her into fits of hysteria.

So what's a mom to do? Patience? Stern talkings to? Lots of vodka?

Or maybe I'll just try again next week. I just can't stand the screeching.

Easter Eggstravaganza

We went to the city's Easter egg hunt today. While it was about 34 degrees below zero and the hunt was situated on possibly the flattest, windiest spot in the Midwest (and that's saying something around here) we had a good time.

I was a little worried Carolyn would be overtaken by the older kids. She was in the 4 to 5 year group and typically not the most aggressive of kids. But as you can see, she's all about the egg hunt.
* Note: That bit at the end is a little jolting, but she's totally OK.



While I did not get a picture of Penny because we were late and she needed quite a bit of help with the hunting, but here's a cute pic of the girls before we left the house.



Happy Easter everybody.

The limited memory of a wine-soaked SAHM

Seriously, if it didn't happen yesterday, it's a distant memory for me. So I feel a little bad I haven't blogged more lately (I've diagnosed myself with chronic cabin fever) because Carolyn is so funny I should be writing these things down because if it didn't happen in the last 25 words, it's a distant memory for me.

Like today, I said, "Carolyn, come here. I'm going to fix your hair."
She says, "I like it broken."

See. That's 4-year-old gold. Also, she calls me Mom now. And she says it really dramatically, like, "Right, Moooooommmmm."

Penelope is quite funny as well, but in a more visual kind of way.

Plus, I'm getting a gold tooth because I grind my teeth too badly to get a tooth that isn't bling.

Happy spring everybody.

Is that my daughter's Barbie in there?

It's 47 degrees outside right now which can mean only one thing — summer's here.

Well, it's sort of spring-like, so Carolyn and I tackled the biggest issues facing our backyard: the dog poop, the sticks and the log cabin. There was really nothing we could do about the mud so we were just thankful for rubber boots.

In the midst of the log cabin cleaning, we found everything in pretty bad shape. It has been a long and wet winter, even by Midwest standards, so we really haven't played in the backyard since last year. But even I was not prepared for the horror.





Oh the horror



I will say, at least it was Barbie, whose dimensions I secretly covet for my own post-children bod. And plus, Barbie's a fighter. I'm pretty sure with a good scrub, and maybe a haircut, she'll be good as new.

Maybe a little therepy as well.

It's movie night

In winter, we take what little pleasures we can get. Tonight — Snow White. It's kind of funny how much more violent story-telling was years ago.

Today at the library, I got some fairy tales because Carolyn has this new obsession with The Three Bears so I thought I'd introduce her to some of the other classics.

Did you know that modern-day Three Pigs story is actually a lot more gruesome. The wolf eats the first two pigs and ends up trapped in a boiling pot. And the kicker? The third pig eats him.

Ewww.

Our lives here in Normal are pretty blah right now. It's still cold, even 30s starting to feel like shorts weather. Today I asked the girls if they wanted to go for a walk around the block. No, they said.

But don't you like to go outside? No, they said. What about the playground?

"I like the playground when it's warm outside," Carolyn said.

Here, here sister. But spring is on the way. I can feel it.

Nieve

Last night, when I was in school (which, incidentally, I continue to take even though I didn't get into the nursing school and now I have all this studying to do for tests I don't really care if I pass, sigh), Steve got Carolyn to go to bed by telling her he needed to spread snow all over the world and it was going to take all night.

So when she woke up this morning, and found this...



... she was pretty happy. It's hard to imagine anybody happy about snow, but it's true.

Ah, who am I kidding?



I was pretty happy too.



Thanks snow-delivery Steve.

Here are Carolyn's 4-year-old pictures. For everyone who doesn't know, I take pics of the girls on their birthdays wearing the same grown-up dress. I didn't take Carolyn's "on" her birthday this year because of the stuffiness and the sick. But I did them today and they turned out great. They're probably my favorite pictures so far.

Here are a couple.

It's not just me

It seems, there are others ready for spring.

Winter stinks...

Actually, winter smells quite nice. People coming inside from frigid temperatures are covered in the most wonderful smell.
But that's not really the point.
The point is, I just can't stand the cold anymore. It's so cold, so often, that I just want to curl into a wine-soaked ball and sleep for the next four to six weeks. I just can't stand to look at the inside of my living room anymore. My kids are sick. I don't have a car. It takes 45 minutes to leave the house. Blah, blah, blah.
But Carolyn, bless her 4-year-old little heart, practically begged to go outside today. And she played for about 10 minutes. I can't even bring myself to get the trash together.
But she's back inside now, insisting that I'm captured. Gotta go...