A vacation to remember

Nothing is quite as much fun as flying on Southwest with a 5-year-old after you learn that a) you have about the last boarding pass available and b) only families with children 4 and under get to pre-board. Oh Southwest, this is the moment (the one where I thought Carolyn and I would be sitting in different aisles of the same 5 hour plane ride... stress level rising, rising...) I began to hate you.

So really, the only annoying experience on this trip with Carolyn to San Francisco was the plane. Oh, and the trolley car, which was overpriced, crowded, dropped us off four blocks from the Wharf and completely frightening to children.

But why mention these inconveniences (other than that's sort of what I do) when we did so many great things. It actually would be boring to list them here, but I'll try anyway. We hiked a redwood forest. We ate in a super cool pub. We sat on the beach of the ocean and took a zillion pictures in front of Golden Gate Bridge. We ate in a garden. Carolyn sustained for a full day solely on a diet of ice cream and an eclair I thought was made my Alice Waters. We watched lovely young (mostly gay) couples frolic in the Mission District. We had famous Berkeley pizza. We went to Chinatown. We saw sea lions. We walked in a rose garden.

Carolyn was just fantastic. What a wonderful age to travel with a child. She's into everything, and even when she wasn't, she never broke down or had a tantrum (expect for when she cried after she got off that god-damned trolley car). If she was pissed or bored, she'd just pout and tune out the constant conversation of Julia and I, who talked and talked and talked. Then we talked some more and never ran out of things to say.

It was just about the best trip ever. Half because it was California. Half because of Carolyn. Half because of Julia and about a tenth because we drank and ate freely. These are completely accurate percentages, and you can trust that because I'm taking an entry-level stat class at a community college.

It has always been my intention to do this same trip with Penelope the summer before she starts kindergarten. And it's a good thing, because she's suddenly taken a strong interest in the San Francisco landmarks. I just hope Julia (check out her travel blog, which hasn't gotten much action lately but gives great descriptions of what it's like to travel in Eastern Europe) is there when this time comes around. There's a good chance she could be in Moscow, and while I'm all for world travel, I'm not prepared to take a small child to Russia.

California teaser

Here are just a few photos of our trip. I'll write more later, but for now, the pool is beckoning.

Here's my favorite pic of Carolyn and Julia. They're standing in front of some bridge.

Carolyn and the sea lions at Fisherman's Wharf. They are smelly, and noisy, but oh so entertaining.
Chris and Julia on some vintage city bus. Much better than that evil trolley car. Much, much better.
Carolyn climbs her very first tree at Golden Gate Park while Julia and I drink beer. OK. It was mostly me.
This was Carolyn's expression for the entire time we were at the ocean. Pure glee.

Carolyn takes this awesome picture at Muir Woods among the redwood trees. Pictures just cannot convey what they were like, but they were fantastic.
Carolyn and mom on a fallen redwood.
Now, to the pool.

Craziness all around

It has been just a crazy couple of weeks.

I drove my grandpa to Michigan two weekends ago and took the train home the next day. While there, I caught up with some friends, a few I hadn't seen in almost five years.

Then there was Carolyn's first swim meet. We just got her ribbons today. She got two fourths and two fifths. But really, it was just a victory getting to the other end of the pool. Despite my nailbiting on the sidelines (which kind of reminded me of my own childhood, watching horses approach the finish line and I sort of wanted to snap my fingers the way old men in fidoras do, but I held back), Carolyn just loved it. The swimming. The three thousand kids. The cheering. Everything.

And finally, but not lastly, there was a five-day trip to California. Carolyn and I had the very bestest of times with Aunt Julia, but I'll write more on that later (this is not your only shout out Julie ; ). For now, enjoy this team picture of Carolyn.

It's summer. That's why

Why I don't blog more often. In case you ever wondered how long it takes a 3-year-old to say Grace, it's 19 seconds. And here it is from the most pious 3-year-old I know.



Penny is actually turning out to be the house clown. She says the funniest stuff. Things that sort of sound right, but that make it pretty obvious that she doesn't know the meaning of the words. I'd give an example but I just can't think of one right this second. Anyway, we're always laughing at these little Penny-isms. Steve theorized second children often become the clowns because they have a much bigger vocabulary, having an older sibling, but not the language skills to put everything together. This garners laughter. This garners more ridiculous sayings. Pretty soon she's shaking her naked butt at us in a brand new version of the butt dance.

It's a vicious circle.

Carolyn just lost her first tooth. It's exciting and sad all at the same time. I was not expecting this to happen so early. I also wasn't expecting the tooth fairy to pay $5, but I guess that's the going rate. Here she is today, minus one baby tooth.

baptism photos

Because I know you just can't get enough of the matching outfits.

The funnest day ever

This is Carolyn's synopsis after a trip to .... Meijer!

And it was the funnest day ever. It was the kind of day I always get about two days after a vacation. We've had enough time to rest. The girls have played with all their toys. We're just about back in our groove and, suddenly, the girls turn into complete angels.

So on a trip to Meijer, when I got everything on my list but apple juice, and we learned Meijer had brought back both the free cookies and the free horsey ride, well, that indeed was something to be celebrated.

So we did. With ice cream bars, a good old-fashioned driveway car washin' and some sprinkler time.

Funnest day ever!

Doin' da butt

My mother-in-law is right — my kids spend way too much time talking about their butts.

I guess part of the problem is that Steve and I find butt jokes infinitely funny. Yes, we are adults. No, we never progressed past fourth grade humor. Whatever. Don't tell me you laugh the tiniest bit during a good fart scene in a sophomoric Seth Rogen movie.

Just saying the word "butt" is enough to send the girls into hysterics. They love to do the "shake your butt" dance. And the problem is coupled by the inside, family joke of spanking. It's used to substitute for any other word, such as, "I love you," becoming "I love spanking," or asking "What do you want for lunch," and receiving the answer, "Spanking."

This is all well and good until we visit grandma's house. Or until Carolyn starts kindergarten and tells her teacher daddy is always spanking her.

And when this happens, I'll just blame Steve. After all, it is pretty much all his {spanking}. Trust me. It's funny.

Home at last

We just returned from a week-long trip to Tulsa. It was kind of a crazy trip because I ran my first half marathon (2:16:47, which isn't super fast but was faster than I had expected to run). We finally got the girls baptized. Steve and I celebrated our 8th anniversary with a night at the casino, where I won $100!

But what really sticks out is the fiasco.

That's right. What Gardner family trip doesn't end in fiasco? It would actually be kind of disappointing if everything went perfectly. Well, maybe not disappointing, but shocking to the point of suspecting a slip in the time/space continuum.

Anyway, we stayed in St. Louis last night. It wasn't like the 11-hour ride to Tulsa wasn't super fun, what with the sibling fighting and all, but we thought we'd break up the trip home. And, just to set the record straight, the girls were very well behaved and delightful for most of the trip.

So we decided to take the girls to the hotel pool this morning. Our hotel pool is a closed outdoor pool but there was another Sheraton on the property with an indoor pool that we could use. We opted to drive because it was kind of far away.

Fiasco starter #1: I misunderstood the lady at the desk and thought the pool was only open from 7 until 10 a.m. Turns out she meant 7 a.m. to 10 p.m. We were sort of rushing over there around 9, not wanting the girls to miss out on valuable swimming time because, obviously, they didn't get enough of that at grandma's house, with her pool.

Fiasco starter #2 : Steve hits a curb and took out a huge portion of our tire. It wasn't flat or leaking, but the 180-mile trip home made is sort of worrisome.

Fiasco starter #3: The first dealer we took it to said they could get the $300 tire, but it wouldn't be ready until the next day and they would charge us $100 "overnight delivery fee." On top of another night hotel. And dinner. And tequila.

We decided to ride home on the spare.

But... I did finally find another dealer who found us an equally good tire. Total bill: $114. Thank you.

Fiasco ender #4: I left our iPod cord at the hotel so we had to take one last stop to pick up the cord. It's not huge fiasco or anything, but after 6 hours of getting a single tire fixed, it was not not something we felt like doing.

But we're home. The girls are in bed. We turned the air on.

Trips are fun. But nothing beats coming home, especially when after learning ants had not invaded the kitchen and our basement was not flooded. It's the best!

Happy Mother's Day

It's come to my attention (thanks Steve) that my last blog was, well, on the sad side. You might have grinned, or even laughed a little, but it was probably out of pity.

But today I'm returned to gleefully lament that I have the best kids ever. Steve took the girls to the mall yesterday to pick out my Mother's Day. When he asked Carolyn what she wanted to get me, she said, "Something for her running. Maybe a running wallet."

A running wallet! It's genius. I'm always trying to figure out ways to carry stuff with me on my run (which nearly totaled 12 miles today. Go me!) Gu. A credit card. Bus money. And though I've never mentioned needing something like that, she must have really paid attention to what I've been saying and came up with the idea. Just that she thought I might like some new running stuff is enough to make me feel extra warm and fuzzy.

Apparently, she's alone. They went into every running store in the mall and nobody carried anything like that. Sounds like maybe we've got an inventor in the making. Anyway, since there were no running wallets, she settled on buying me hand soap. It smells really nice.

One out of two isn't bad. Penny, on the other hand, got candies for us to "share." She practically yanked the the package out of my hands as I tried to open it this morning.

They were tasty.

Here's an old picture of my girls. My favorite...

The graduating class of 2021

That's Carolyn. I'll pause if you need a tissue. No? Well, I never thought I'd need one either, but I about lost it when I learned this little tidbit from her new principal.

Because, it just dawned on me at that moment, now I guess she has a principal. And a school mascot. And she needs to know how to open her own milk carton and tie her own shoes. I can't even listen to the White Stripes song, "We're Going to be Friends," without resorting to a sort of blubbering that should be reserved for real problems like death, divorce and "Steel Magnolias."

It never dawned on me that I'd be tired from all this growing up crap.

Initally, I really went into this kindergarten registration thing excited. I'm excited because Carolyn is excited. She really wants to go to school, which I guess is awesome. But at some point Thursday, everything turned around on itself.

Like when Principal Shaw said our tiny little 5-year-olds will be so happy when we walk them to class and help them with their backpacks and put them in their little seats. They'll be happy on that first day, he said. In fact, they'll be happy for about a week until they realize it's better to do it by themselves. Finally they'll say, "Mom... Stop holding my hand in the hallway."

Not only that, but it got way worse for me when she did a stupid little craft at school and the teaching assistant wrote on a little piece of paper, "Carolyn: Struggled with cutting along the lines." Are you kidding me! She's already stigmatized and she hasn't actually started school yet. It's probably nothing, but what parent doesn't think their kid is the best. The best at everything.

I do. After all, she started as a lump in my belly, evolving into a totally helpless blob of person that couldn't do anything. And now she can write her name and swing across the monkey bars and ride (sort of) her bike. It's totally a miracle.

Pretty soon, it won't matter that I think everything she does is pure gold. It just crushes me to think it's starting to matter what other people think. People that don't even know her and her perfectness. It's not enough that she'll join swim team this summer and probably come in last at every race, now she's in a race of who can read the best, or who can sing the best, or who can cut the best, most accurate lines with kiddy scissors.

I'm sorry, but that's just too much for me to think about. Thank goodness none of this matters to her, at least for now. She's just excited about school. About a new teacher and friends and carrying her own lunch box.

So I'll hold her hand to class until she decides she's rather walk alone. And she'll go to her classroom. And I'll go home and cry in the bathroom, if I can make it to the bathroom. God please let me make it to the bathroom.

Because I guess that's the way it's supposed to be.

Please don't call child protective services

Carolyn is going through a bit of an injury phase right now. She's so bruised and hurt other moms are starting to comment on the injuries.

Let's review.

There's the horrible bruise, smack in the middle of her chest. This happened when she wiped out on her bike a few days ago. This is by far the worst injury, and the worst looking. I'm not even sure how she did it, other than that she was going really fast, talking (of course) and looking back at me. My dad used to tell me "It's a long way from your heart" whenever I hurt myself and came crying to him. I would have said this, because I sort of love it, but it was actually dangerously close to her heart. And lungs. And other very vital organs.

Speaking of bike injuries, there was the falling off the bike injury today that will surely result in a black eye. Hopefully, it'll be gone before she's baptized in a week and a half. (Yeah!!! The girls are finally getting baptized. Take that... eternal damnation.)

Later in the morning, she scratched up the side of her face.

Just before school, she was under her bed and re-injured her back by scraping the exact same spot she hurt a few weeks ago at the playground.

Let's just say there are a number of other bumps and bruises throughout. Thankfully, today when she was playing monster tag with her friend at the playground, there was no noticeable injury when she ran smack into a metal pole.

"No bruising? No bleeding? You're totally fine. Go play."

Why sisters are great

Today at the playground, there was this group of very annoying tweens. Actually, they were about 8 and 9, but they were real jerks. I'd also like to make fun of their physical appearance, but it just doesn't feel right to go quite that low.

Anyway, they wouldn't move for Carolyn to get through and this was making Carolyn very upset. After asking for them to move several times, with no results, she just stood there and stared at them. At one point, the girls started calling each other weird.

Carolyn misunderstood and thought they had called Penny weird.

"Don't call my sister weird," she yelled. She was ready to throw down with these jerky bullies. I was so proud.

And Penny... Sweet lying Penny. That girl doesn't know how to tell the truth.

She spills milk. "It spilled itself." She kicks Fife. "He walked into my foot." She hits Carolyn, three times, IN FRONT of Steve. "No I didn't."

It's so weird because I don't think Carolyn has ever lied. Ever. She just doesn't know how. And now there's Penny, the chronic liar. Like I've said... Sometimes this stuff comes down to hard wiring.

Either that or Penny has already learned, from Carolyn, that telling the truth just doesn't pay.

Comedic genius

I just said Penelope was probably a comic genius in my last post, and now I know it's true. She spent about 15 minutes this morning re-enacting my favorite scene from Steve Martin's "The Jerk," even though she has never heard tell of either the actor/writer/funniest-person-ever and/or movie.

After much debate, Penny decided she would, in fact, agree to go to swimming class later this afternoon. She's been mad at Ms. Connie because, two weeks ago, Ms. Connie told Penny not to climb up the ladder. I know... How dare she.

Anyway, Penny went around the house collecting her items. Her robe, swimsuit, goggles, swim cap and flip flops.

Then, she'd say she needed her new Sleeping Beauty doll.

"That's all I need," she'd say.

Then, she needed a coloring book.

"I got my coloring book," dragging the bag around the house. "That's all I need."

Then she needed a baggie of crayons. Then a giant coloring page. Then a library book. After packing each item, she'd drag the heavier-and-heavier bag around the house.

"And that's all I need."

Field trip

The family and I returned last night from a whirlwind trip to Chicago. I first went to Michigan to see Michelle, a good friend of mine (and we were lucky enough to be in Holland for the second annual Groove Fest, which was super duper fun). 

The next day, I drove to Chicago while Steve took the train with the girls.We did some of the usual stuff. Go to the Disney store. Eat and drink at great restaurants. Penny, of course, only wanted to eat soup (she actually told me, "No soup for you," which makes me believe she's a comedic genius since she doesn't know what a Seinfeld is) and Carolyn mostly dined on salad. While I love to say they're sort of weird eaters, I'm not-so-secretly proud that they would rather eat Minestrone than chicken nuggets. 

We also walked around for hours. I went running down by the lakeshore and became infatuated with the Westin's "Sleep TV" that causes you to fall asleep within five minutes of turning it on. I also mistakenly made fun of a handicap person. This guy with two bum legs let us go by and I said, "It's fine. We're usually the slow ones." No I really said that. In my defense, I had consumed a fair amount of cheap red wine.  It's folly that Steve finds infinitely hilarious and likes to apply to all sorts of situations.

It's really quite horrible and I am truly sorry to anybody reading this with a bum leg.

Finally, we headed over to the Field Museum to look at dinosaur bones. It was a good trip but Penny was pretty much done by the time we left and slept almost the whole way home, rush hour traffic.  See here, as we leave the museum and Carolyn tries to remove my headband while Penny cries in the corner. That about sums up our departure.

I slept 10 hours last night, even without Sleep TV. I almost feel ready to face the day.

A week of ugh

A little case of the sick hit our house this week. Ugh. While none of us stayed in terrible shape for too long, it seems climbing out of this funk into a state of complete wellness has taken longer than I expected. Definitely longer than I wanted

Anyway, we did venture out today, with disastrous results. Carolyn came down with a case of the clumsies at the playground. She was playing with an older girl while I anxiously watched Penny tackling larger and larger ladders. Then I saw Carolyn whimpering with a group of moms standing around her, of course, and they said she fell and hurt her back. And it was scraped up pretty good.

Carolyn was more frantic about not being able to find me than the injury. She said, "All the other mommies were watching over their sweethearts." Good grief. By the time we left, she had hurt herself twice more, which is really pretty uncommon for her and more of a Penelope kind of thing.

Then, after moving to a quieter playground (we were the only ones there, sweet bliss) and off to downtown for lunch, I realized I forgot my wallet at home.

Doh! That is such a rooky mistake. There was so much screaming and crying on the bike ride home (some of it even came from the girls) that we were all spent by the time we got in the house. Both girls are still sleeping two hours later, if that's any indication on how the morning went.

We are an at-home kind of trio this afternoon. Besides. I have windows and screens to wash and gardening to tend to. Oh joy. But at least I can lock the girls in their bedrooms when they start screaming here.

Scaring the shit out of your 5-year-old, part 2

Steve took the girls out today and, as is his wont, had the radio tuned to crazy right-wing talk shows. Let it never be said that Rush Limbaugh isn't a family-friendly kind of guy.

At one point Carolyn asks Steve, "What's a baby killer?"
Steve tell her that nobody kills babies.
"They were joking?"
Yes, of course they were joking.
"Do jerks kill babies?"
No, not even jerks kill babies. She ponders this for a minute.
"Because they aren't strong enough?"

Post Easter glow

As predicted, last week was pretty crazy. In four days, I went to church four times. The girls went twice including the Good Friday service where the congregation kisses the feet of the life size (which was also fairly lifelike) crucifix. Carolyn got up there and in her outdoor voice shrieked "What's that."

My mom made it to our house for Easter too. It really was a lovely holiday, complete with chocolate bunnies, egg hunts in our backyard and fancy dresses. The best Easter in my memory.

Back to real life, which now includes swim lessons for Penny. She just loves them, which is a pleasant surprise and a big relief. I'm sure there's about a billion other things to write about, but I just can't think of them right now.

Happy Holy Week

While Carolyn thought the Mr. Easter Bunny was pretty rockin', Penny was pretty traumatized. So, no pictures of her screaming to get away. Not this year.

Well, just a week until Easter. We are especially busy this year, for reasons I will outline in a moment, so I won't be blogging this week. This weekend also was pretty busy for reasons I will outline shortly.

This weekend:
• I ran 10 miles. Yeah for me. It was a little slower than I would have liked, but I felt great for most of it, which is a big improvement over a few weeks ago.
• This year's Easter egg hunt was just one long fiasco. The things we took away from this experience were that nice spring weather makes people come out in huge numbers, parents of small children are not immune from jerkiness and six plastic eggs. It was chaos, but still fun.
• Carolyn had FOUR shots on Friday. What a trooper. She came through OK, but I had made more than a few promises, thankfully, I was able to see through. That meant a trip to Toys R Us (Carolyn got the game Operation, which is both very annoying and super awesome), lunch at her favorite restaurant and an inaugural trip to Chuck E Cheese. My head still hurts.

This week:
• There will be more than a few hours spent in church for my upcoming confirmation, including a mass Good Thursday (*see note) where I will have my feet washed by a priest. That shouldn't be at all awkward.
• I'm working on deadline on a story, which I put off until my busiest week of the year.
• Penny starts swimming lessons this week. Fingers crossed, she seems really excited about it.
• I still have to get to the store for Easter presents. That big stupid rabbit isn't bringing candy, but rather very specific gifts that require his staff to run all over town. Stupid rabbit.

And just as an aside, Steve thinks it's really funny to play the theme to Doogie Howser M.D. while I write my blog. Happy Holy Week!

(*Note: My dear friend Jazzy Joe pointed out Thursday is called Holy Thursday, not Good Thursday, making me a bad Catholic. I'd argue that I was drunk when I wrote that so I was well within the parameters of Catholicism. Come talk to me when a priest washes your feet.)

When did sugar become a good thing?

Don't get me wrong. I'm a fan of sugar. And butter. And oil. And meat.

But it doesn't mean those things are actually good for us. Sugar's probably the worst of the lot because of its complete lack of nutritional value. It was to be avoided at all costs for many, many years.

Steve and I were watching TV last night and Snapple was advertising its new tea, "with sugar." Like sugar some magical new health food. Sure it's better than high fructose corn syrup, which is in virtually everything processed because it's such a cheap product, but sugar still rots teeth and makes you fat.

Steve had it right. "Who would have thought they would invent something that makes sugar look good."

By the way, I'm totally an old person magnet. When all the other moms are chatting at library story time, I'm jawing away to the grandma who lives across the street. I am always talking to the oldest caregiver in the room. This is not to say I'm super mature or anything, I've known plenty of immature old people, but I think it does say something about my character, or my reluctance to dye to my hair.

I also think it explains my love for crossword puzzles and "Antiques Roadshow."

Scaring the shit out of your 5-year-old in three easy steps

This really is a simple-to-follow plan for anybody who thinks their 5-year-old has lived in the innocence of childhood long enough and needs to begin learning the harsh realities of life.

1. Show your child a dead squirrel in the middle of the road with its brains splashed out all over the place. Say that could happen to her if she were hit by a car, although she's been trained from birth never to run into the street and has never violated this cardinal rule.

2. When she begins to ask very difficult questions (i.e. will the squirrel become undead, what will happen now, what about its little squirrel family) allow yourself to get deeper and deeper into the philosophy of death and its finality.

3. When you let your children watch Saturday morning cartoons in the basement while you watch an old movie upstairs, don't bother to check what comes on after CareBears. Even when your 5-year-old's baby sister comes upstairs, just assume everything is totally fine and don't worry that an infomercial about cleft lip might be frightening your little girl very, very badly. I'd like to extend a special thanks network TV for this. I don't know why we don't rely on you more often.

After this, your child should be sufficiently afraid of pretty much everything. While you watch the end of your movie, which just might be the 1977 Jane Fonda film, "Julia," she should hear Jane Fonda get a little panicky about babies in a bakery and just assume the French baguettes the baker is holding are baby legs.

This is the end of your lesson on how to scare the shit out of your 5-year-old. I hope it helps.

I did it! I knew I could do it.

The girls and I are probably the greatest playground connoisseurs in Normal. It doesn't hurt that we have at least six playgrounds within a one-mile radius of our house.

There's the purple playground. The big playground. The dragon playground. The horsey playground. Carolyn's playground. It's a pretty varied selection.

Today, at the new playground (named after having just recently been built), Carolyn hit a milestone. She finally figured out the monkey bars. You know... The ones requiring you to swing from one bar to another. I've yet to see an adult master these but Carolyn had it down in about 10 minutes. Well... Five years and 10 minutes.



Totally cool and fun. And we even found a cluster of daffodils to make this whole spring experience really come together.


Too bad it's going to snow six inches tomorrow night. Ugh. I am done with winter.

Catching frogs

Not really. We were out in the field trying to catch some frogs. Trying, but not succeeding.

A farm definitely has its perks, and just to note, Carolyn just really loved being outside there. She wandered around for long stretches, playing her own games or creating her own imaginary scenarios.

I don't know for sure that's what she was doing, but that's what I did when I was a kid on a farm.

The best kids in the room. Today.

When your 3-year-old pees all over the McDonald's playset at the Chicagoland's toll road travel plaza, what do you do?

Well, when this happened to me early today, I tried as best I could to wipe in up, put on her sister's shoes, keep her from taking off her pants and grab my brand-new cup of Starbuck's tea as I tried to bribe them away from the super-fun slide and into the nearest bathroom without attracting any unnecessary attention.

Thank goodness she was wearing black pants. They are a lot more forgiving then the red shirt I was wearing, which got the brunt of her very wet crotch thrust against it.

This comes at the end of a short trip to Michigan the girls and I took this week. And really, I need to back up a little.

On the trip to Michigan, the girls were as good as I have ever seen them. They were polite to my friends. They were chatty, but not overly so. They were interested in the conversations. God bless the 3 and 5 year old siblings.

Early on the trip, I took them to my favorite fancy café in the even fancier St. Joseph. (I love me some beach towns.) The girls lovingly shared their soup and Carolyn ate more than half my salad. Penny finished lunch before us and she wandered around the table admiring the decor. As I was leaving, the employees behind he counter stopped me to say I had the best behaved children they had ever seen in there.

The best! I was giddy with pride and shock. I told them, shucks, the girls aren't always like this. And just so I wouldn't be a liar or anything, Penny screamed from the travel plaza's parking lot (she was under the impression we would return to playset. Oops!) until I paid the toll worker his 60 cents and threatened her with a blankie-free ride home.

Good girls

I would just like to note that I feel really crappy today. I had horrible insomnia last night and a very, very busy day today with a visit to the library, a field trip to the Children's Museum, no napping and swimming later today.

So it's especially nice the girls have played together nicely for about TWO HOURS!

Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

Spring cleanup

Every year I look in the backyard as spring approaches and think, "Who in the hell is going to clean this up? Who has the time, what with all the playgrounds to visit and bike rides to take." The answer will probably be me. This year seemed like an impossibly big task, evidenced by this poor Little People person, discovered among the wounded.


So I looked back at last year about this time, and it turns out this mess is probably less horrible than last year, which was much wetter. Sticks and mud are one thing. Reseeding a whole portion of our yard due to flood is another.

And plus, I already got the garage tackled. Mostly.

On to more exciting news, I wanted to mention Carolyn's recent obsession with Hannah Montana. She has never actually seen the show, but is recently in love with her music, or anything on the radio that resembles pink bubblegum or rainbow-colored unicorns. I'm not discouraging her new attraction, although I have no intention of letting her watch a show that focuses on the love lives of hot Disney stars, but I even let her create her own Hannah Montana Pandora station.

It is the worst, and I am in no way exaggerating, worst music I have ever heard. I think this is what getting old sounds like. But I can't help but smile a tiny bit as Carolyn "thumbs up" her favorite ear-piercing pop songs.

Rock on...

Why can't I be a role model

I love my friend Courtney. She's super cool and beautiful and all that stuff people say about the women they admire.

So I loved to hear Carolyn's unexpected praise of Courtney yesterday. Just randomly, Carolyn started talking talking about her. When we asked what she meant, she said, "Courtney does everything."

Again, we asked her what she meant. She said, "She works at an airport and she's a firefighter. Also, she's a cooker at a restaurant."

While Courtney doesn't cook much as far as I know, much less for an audience, I think Carolyn believes Courtney catered her own wedding. Even still, I thought it was really awesome.

Also, I bought Carolyn her first pair of Nike sneakers today. When we were saying Grace, something we're all pretty new at doing, Carolyn kind of sped through the sign of the cross. I told her she didn't need to hurry, but she said her sneakers made her go extra fast.

I'm tired of running in the cold

Since giving up Facebook for Lent, I've had a lot of random thoughts and things happen that I haven't been able to share with the World(WideWeb). For instance, Steve and I attended an all day Christian Sexuality workshop in order to have our marriage blessed. We're getting "married" on March 22. We haven't registered for anything and would prefer checks. Thanks.

Speaking of March 22, that starts off spring break week. Now I'm thinking maybe I should again move up my Michigan trip to March 23 so I don't have to hear "Do I have school today?" from Carolyn 5,000 times a day. It would give me a chance to pick up those checks in person.

Carolyn got in trouble at swimming yesterday for telling Little Annie, who is just as cute as her name suggests, "You're not the boss of me."

While giving up Facebook has been relatively simple, giving up beer and wine has been much more difficult. Some might say this is a sign of alcoholism. I say I need the carbs because of all my hard-core training (see title).

I need just one more OK to buy those plane tickets I've got my eye on. Nonstop to California, baby!

Since I'm not on Facebook, I have much less communication with the outside world. While this is sort of sad, it did help me get up and go talk to the popular swim team moms yesterday. Anyway, please start e-mailing me. I feel sort of unloved.

Making it happen very, very slowly

This blog entry is not about the children. If you are here for them, I'd ask you to please move along.

Today, I passed my 21 manual skills competency test to get certified as a nursing assistant. Woohoo, right! That means I had to buy a pair of scrubs and perform certain tasks on real-live old people. The tester told me it usually takes between two and six hours, but I got mine done in an hour and a half. Why? Because I'm awesome.

This is slowly putting me the road to nursing school. Slowly, slowly. I've wanted to be a nurse ever since I was 15 years old and my dear friend, Heather, got me a job as a junior nursing assistant at Presbyterian Village. The trouble was, at the time, I was not very good at science, not very disciplined and more interested in boys than work.

Ehh. We all have faults.

So I retook Anatomy and Physiology (got an A), am getting re-certified as a CNA and will take a statistics class this fall to prepare for this once lost dream. But for the first time in... forever... I think this will be the time it works for me. I'll have everything (and I mean every tiny little thing) in order and it'll be the perfect time to do it.

Plus, I'll need the work once newspapers finally start closing down and Steve is home with me all day.

What a year this will be. I'll become Catholic. I'll get all my nursing stuff in order. I'll run a half marathon. Not having any friends might just be one of the best things that ever happened to me.

My girls are clueless. But in a good way

Carolyn's teacher had to talk to me yesterday, but not at all in a "your kid is the spawn of satan" kind of way. The teachers just wanted me to know they're not using the F-word to teach the Letter of the Week.

The kids were washing their hands in this giant communal sink, and they started saying things like, "You're cussing," and "Stop cussing."

Carolyn's witness to this and likes to get in the act. So she tells them to stop cussing. Next thing, Carolyn is asking her teacher, "What's cussing?" Love her, right!

So Ms. Casey says cussing is saying something that isn't nice. Fine. Carolyn goes back out to finish her hand washing, but then comes running back to her teacher all in a tither.

"Now they're cussing at me!"

Penny's little misunderstandings also lean on the side of super cute.

She's really into getting dressed. She gets dressed about 10 minutes after waking up, and puts on her jammies about 10 minutes after getting home for the night.

And not just that, but it's important that she match.

Yesterday, she wore her horizontally striped turtleneck with big blocks of bright rainbow colors with her new horizontally striped Valentine's Day pants with pencil-thin lines of pink and red stripes.

You might think these two items might clash, but they're both striped. The other day, she wore a shirt/pants combo because they both had butterflies on them. To Penny, these things totally mean matching — and are super, super cute.

Also, this non-matching type of matching is better than Carolyn's preference of wearing nothing but sweatpants.

The case of the missing Penelope Bunny

For those of you not in the know, Penelope Bunny is Carolyn's must-have favorite toy. She can't sleep without it and she sucks on her long, organic ears, which is pretty disgusting.

So last night when she couldn't find her, there was lots and lots of crying. Carolyn laid in bed, sobbing that she couldn't sleep without Penelope Bunny (nice name, huh!) while the real Penelope and I turned the house upside down.

You might not know it to look at her, but the real Penelope is very good at finding things. Just asking her where things are sometimes yields excellent results.

But after an hour, the search party called off the rescue efforts. Penny offered Carolyn other toys to sleep with, and even suggested some lovely music ("Do you want silly music, or soft music?"). Carolyn eventually cried herself to sleep and Penny eventually stopped calling me in ask if I had looked in the closet, or under the couch.

So this morning, I was a little surprised when Carolyn came running out of the room with Penelope Bunny. Turns out, she had stuffed her into a little toy castle — one that was on her bed the WHOLE time. Carolyn told this story in a fit of giggles while Penny and I looked at each other, shaking our heads.


* Note: This is Penelope Bunny on Christmas morning 2007 when Carolyn got her. I am SHOCKED that she was so pink, as she is barely white right now. But it's the only pic I have of her.

Mom of the year — volume 536

I'm not sure why the kids always wait until we have company to have their most horrible accidents. But they do.

For instance, my mother-in-law is in town. She's a lovely woman.

So I'm sure Penny waited until she was here to try this. In fact, this is one accident I've always been afraid of happening. I have actually yelled at Steve many, many times in an effort to train him to do just one thing — put his razor away.

Here's the funny little kicker. My razor wasn't put away. And when Penny took her nightly trip to the potty, and lingered a little longer than necessary, we didn't think much of it. We were busy chit-chatting the evening away.

But then she walked out, as if caught red handed, or rather red-lipped. Apparently, she tried to shave her lips off.

((I'll pause here until the shivers stops.))

The cuts weren't too bad, and mostly superficial, but nobody wants to see their 3-year-old leave the bathroom with blood pouring out of her mouth. She wasn't so much hurt as very, very afraid of being punished for using something she knew was off limits. To think it was my fault for leaving the razor out. Ugh... It's just too much guilt and grossed-out-ness to handle.

Steve on the other hand, was just a little happy (after the initial shock, of course) this mini-tragedy did not fall on him, after 5 years of yelling for him to put that damn razor away. Instead, this burden landed squarely on the shoulders of the yeller, i.e. me.

Still, there was a lot of blood. Seldom does justice cause such a case of the willies.

Wacky Wednesday... Part 2

Carolyn had Wacky Wednesday at school today. She was super excited about it, both to show off her own wackiness and to see what other kids did to look wacky. If it's one thing we can pull off, it's wacky.

Last night, we put her hair in a bunch of tiny braids. Right before school, we took them out and brushed her hair up into a really frizzy nest. She wore shorts with leggings, which she totally picked out by herself. How wacky....

Before:

After:

Wacky Wednesday

Ahhh... Coming home from a 4.4 mile (yes, I am obsessed with exact mileage of my runs) to a quiet house of sleeping family is a wonderful thing. On my early morning jog, I encountered one raccoon and two skunks, one who didn't look as friendly as his cartoon counterpart Pepe LaPew.

I think it's really funny that I didn't encounter anybody else except for the last five minutes or so, when I passed two dog walkers and Ron, my next door neighbor. This is not the first time Ron and I, who live within 50 yards of one another, are the only two people using the trail at 6:30 a.m.

I hear the stirrings of my children. It won't be long now until chaos replaces this quiet. Carolyn has Wacky Wednesday at school today. I'll make sure to post pictures later. We've got quite a surprise planned for her long, luxurious hair.

Hell-oooo Lent!

I had all these really great stories about the girls. About how Carolyn was super smart and Penny was a huge pain in the ass. At least I think those were the stories.

I don't really remember any of them right now. Why, you might ask. Well. I've been Facebooking. Ugh... It's like a sickness. The constant need for attention. The constant checking. The constant reporting of every thought that pops into my head.

Well... I've had enough. I'm out, at least for the next 46 days. That's how long Lent lasts and how long I will be banning the Facebook. If there's one thing I know a little something about, it's giving stuff up. I'm an expert at it and should probably be on Oprah. And every time I've given anything up, I've quickly realized I didn't need it that much anyway.

That's not to say I don't need help. Steve is going in to change my password. Right. Pathetic was the word that came to MY mind too.

I'm also giving up beer and wine. I'm not giving up hard alcohol, because it's not so much that I want to give up drinking, but I wanted to give up distractions. And after a long winter stuck inside, I'm well aware that a bottle of wine is a lovely distraction. Like Facebook and all my very bestest Facebook friends.

So hello Lent. I'm ready for you. And maybe in a day or two, I'll remember the names and some stories of those two kids I live with.

Girlisms

When Carolyn woke up this morning, she started cuddling with me. Then she made a funny face.
"You smell funny," she said.
I do?
"You didn't take a shower today," she said.
I know... It's only 6:30 in the morning.
"You smell like an old lady!"
Hey, that's below the belt missy.

Yesterday I took Penny shopping to Target instead of taking a nap. Penny LOVES to shop. Shirts? Awesome. Sponges? Awesome. She ran up and down the 75 percent off Valentines Day aisle squealing with delight.
When we were looking at some workout videos, after just having left the baby area (Look at these cute pajammies) when Penny said.
"When we get a new baby, we'll be able to buy those clothes."
Umm. Yeah. About that. There aren't going to be any new babies.
"Doesn't Daddy like babies?"

So it's 6:47 a.m. and the girls are already running around in their Heart Day holiday garb I nabbed for $1.25 a piece. I highly recommend this aisle for anybody with girls.

Post birthday expectations

Carolyn is 5. She's 5. She's 5 years old. She's no longer 4, because now she's 5.

This was something she eagerly told anybody who would listen yesterday. The moms dropping off kids at preschool. The kids in swim class. The people at the bank. Carolyn is 5.

Carolyn was a little disappointed she couldn't magically tie her shoes yesterday morning. After all. She is 5 now.

I'm glad it's over. It was a lot of fun. We started the day opening presents. We ended with cake (which Steve iced with his very own 8,000 calorie icing!). But the birthday season is now behind us and won't begin again until early September when my birthday starts the whole cycle again.

That means Carolyn's birthday is the unofficial (and quite early) start of spring and summer. No more cakes. No more presents. No more waiting, except for summer, which is pretty funny considering Carolyn, just at this moment, came out of her room dressed in shorts.

I guess I'm not the only one excited about the end of birthday season.

Birthday girl! Almost 5

So it's a day early. We're busy tomorrow, what with all our present-opening, cake-eating, treat-spreading activities. I just hope she doesn't change too much through the night.

Date night

Steve and I are not much for holidays. Neither of us knows our anniversary (although we know it's either May 12 or May 18). I have made known my slight dislike of Christmas. Steve and I once went out to eat after trying to retile our bathroom and wondered why there were so many couples out to eat only to later realize it was Valentine's Day.

So it's sort of weird we went out on Valentine's Day weekend, if not the actual day.

But what's really funny is how we enjoyed our romantic night out. We ate our meal in about 15 minutes, because that's the only way we know how to eat. Eating very, very fast is the only way to eat with two small kids.

Ah... Who am I kidding. I've always been a fast eater. So really, this is sort of a non-blog because I want to try and blog more. Move along. Nothing to read here.

Slightly spring

So, yeah, it's February. So what. Totally feels springish outside and I'm not going to fight that.

Spring, to me, is the very best of seasons. It's the season of hope and expectation. It's for love and dreaming. Spring, as Garrison Keillor has said in one of his Prairie Home Companion rants, is the season that turns us into teenagers.

And who wants that! Certainly not anybody who feels like using her brain.

Good thing spring isn't for using the brain. It's for thinking about being fast and fit . It's for looking forward to mornings outside instead of inside this ever-shrinking house. I love that feeling in my gut that something — something huge — is about to happen, even if it's not. (This is in no way a hint to pregnancy. That is a type of expecting behind me now.)

This is the only time of year I wish would drag its feet. I'm not in a hurry for June. Let April linger just a little longer.

So here's to spring, even in mid-February. After a winter like this, it's a welcome feeling.

Water park fun

We just came back from a lovely weekend. We went to Chicago for one night and to a Wisconsin waterpark for the other. It was great fun. We went shopping, ate at great restaurants, went to the zoo and (obviously) had lots of waterpark fun.

Here's Carolyn and I coming down the giant waterslide. It's not nearly as terrifying to watch as last year's video, but it was still fun.

What sister turtles look like

Bowling and life

We took the girls bowling for the first time on Saturday. It was pretty fun, but much more expensive than I remember. They didn't quite "get" the whole thing, but they loved it.




On a completely unrelated note, unless you think life and bowling are related, we were driving past the church when I pointed out there was somebody in the Adoration Chapel, at this very moment, praying. I like to do this because Steve thinks it's rather unbelievable, especially that people pray at like 3 in the morning. Anyway...

Carolyn said, "You mean praying to God?"
Steve and I agree that's correct.
Then Penny chimes in: "My favorite colors are blue and pink."
Yes, we agree. Also a relevant point.

The 25 Random Things Virus

Everybody on Facebook has been writing these 25 things about me lists. To tell the truth, I haven't even logged onto Facebook in the past couple of days. I've been sick, and sort of busy, so I'm behind on my list reading.

Here's my list. But mine is a list of 25 random thoughts I had today. And you thought everybody else's list was boring.

1. Why can't I keep my basil plant alive?
2. I love it when Carolyn says, "Mommy. You make the best cookies in the world."
3. Where does dust come from?
4. Carolyn is doing much better at our new puzzle than Penny. This is usually reversed.
5. Carolyn was singing along with the Decemberists when they came on Pandora. How cool is that!
6. I don't think Steve would enjoy watching a Steelers' Super Bowl with other people.
7. I love cooking, particularly baking.
8. Cooking relaxes me the way gardening relaxes other people.
9. I will never experience that feeling with gardening, no matter how hard I try.
10. Carolyn's swim coach just told us yesterday how awesome she's doing and how fast she's catching on. Rock on.
11. Oh the UPS truck!
12. Ohhhh. Not for us.
13. I'm reading a book by a popular Czech author right now. I bet Julia knows about him.
14. I wonder if he's the Grisham of the Czech Republic, because if he is, those people are way smarter than Americans.
15. Penelope is the biggest drama queen I have ever met. Today at the store, she wanted to buy everything she walked by. "I want to buy that bag. I want to buy those socks. I want to buy a shirt. I want that."
16. I feel bad for my mom if she ever goes shopping with Penny because she'll leave the store completely broke.
17. I can't wait to go running tomorrow when it finally warms up to 32.
18. Milk was $2.99 at the store today. I saw one woman with three gallons of milk. That would cost her $9 a week, just for milk!
19. I had a really good story idea this week that probably isn't going to happen.
20. On the plus side, I'm doing pretty good on my New Year's resolutions.
21. I love my homemade laundry detergent.
22. My three favorite kitchen gadgets are my Kitchen Aide mixer, my rice cooker and my bean masher, which mashes way more than beans.
23. Carolyn wanted green beans at the store today, so I bought them.
24. I wish I could afford a complete body scrub.
25. Sleeping a ridiculously long time is the best way to fight a cold. That and whiskey.

Where do they get this stuff?

Yesterday, Penny was chattering away about nothing. Telling stories. Randomly connecting thoughts. Interrupting us to make odd observations.

Steve asked her if she remembered going to the doctor. She said she did. Then he asked her if she remembered how she refused to talk to the doctor. She said she did.

"What happened to that girl? he asked.

"She died."

Seriously, where do they get this stuff?

Because it make me feel bad

I have no way to convey the tone of Penny's voice as she says, "But it make me feel bad." It's sort of whiny, and at the same time, deeply theatrical.

And it's hard not to crack a smile when she uses it so absurdly. Steve and I have actually gotten past that point, now only rolling our eyes as a single tear rolls down her pink cheek.

She uses it almost every night at dinner. "I don't like that. It make me feel bad." She could have a deep-fried Twinkie on her plate and this would likely be her reaction.

There's the 80 times a day she's told not to snatch away Carolyn's toy. "But I want it. You make me feel bad."

How about when she's asked to put on her shoes? "I don't like shoes. It make me feel bad."

You get the picture. It's too bad she lives in such an unsympathetic household.

Because I'm a big girl

Carolyn is really into the idea of being a big girl. More specifically, she likes the idea of being older than Penelope.

"Because I'm a big girl," she'll say after she pours her own cereal. "But Penny can't do that yet. She's still a little girl."

Ahhhh. Right? Well, it gets a little old after a while. It's a constant observation of how she's better than her sister. Constant. She eats her dinner because she's a big girl. She goes to school because she's a big girl. She finishes this puzzle because she's a big girl.

And then there's Penny. "I can't do that because I'm not big yet."

Oh good grief. Sometimes I like to point out that Carolyn is a mere two years older than her sister, while I am 30 years old than her. Then I think about this and realize I shouldn't be telling her how old I am. Otherwise, she might being to taunt me the way my friend's daughter does.

She might start saying I'm as old as mold.

Grandma, stay away

Today was a normal day, mostly. Penny had her first story hour at the library. I was too cute to watch Carolyn "show her the ropes" during the session. "C'mon Penny. Stand up," she'd say as it was time to sing the opening song. They practically sat in the same chair.

Penny liked it, but I almost think Carolyn liked the fact that Penny was there even more.

After the class, I talked to this grandma I sort of know (her granddaughter, Jenna, is in Carolyn's preschool class) for about an hour. She had four kids in five years. One lives in town — the one with the most kids — so she has day-to-day contact with her grandkids. Another of her kids lives in Chicago. A third, the only childless one, lives in Boston. The last, with two small children, lives in Paris.

Unbelievable. You couldn't create a more perfect child/grandkid situation if you outlined the whole thing out on paper. So I was quizzing her extensively about her three week trip to Paris earlier this year and just having a lovely time.

Then later, I got horrible news. The grandma I bonded with (what's up with me and grandmas?) at Carolyn's swimming class just up and died about a month ago. She was really my first friend in Normal and we sat and chatted every week, twice a week, while Carolyn and her grandson, Gabe, learned to swim.

It was a total shocker because she would watch all her grandkids. In the summer, she watched about six or seven at a time. She was super active and spunky. I just feel really bad about the whole thing.

What a bummer of a blog....

Not the First Family

Today was a perfect example of why Steve nor I are president. First off, I'm a woman and genetically predisposed to being denied presidency. In any case, we are good, well-meaning people, but if the President of these United States was set off as easily as either one of us, there would be serious trouble.

To start, poor Carolyn is sick. Not the awful, puke-heavy illness that makes you wonder if life is really all it's cracked up to be, but still a little off. And grumpy. And slightly weird.

Steve, whose one wish was to watch Barack Obama get sworn into office (wiping single tear off my cheek) and give his acceptance speech, had spent the previous three hours repairing our broken bed, because we are too cheap green to let a perfectly good bed be ruined by collapse.

Anyhow, the whole swearing-in ceremony is starting and Carolyn decides to climb the couch and poke Steve in the neck. Poke, poke. He sends her to her room and all hell breaks out. There's a lot of shouting. Tears are shed. In the end, the speech is abandoned and we go about our days with huffy resolve to not feel in the least bit optimistic by one of the most singularly historic moments of our young lives.

WWBD? Hmm. Part of me wants to blame this all on the kids. How are they to know the significance of today? But part of me, the part that I hide in the closet when company comes over, thinks that maybe it's why I'm not First Lady, in any sense of those two words. Maybe, I'm too human for that kind of greatness. Or maybe not human enough.

In any case, Penny acted very presidential throughout this whole mess. For the first time in... ummm... ever. Act badly in everyday life? Sure. Act badly when everyone else is acting badly. Never!

Awesomeness

I can't help but feel a little bit like a rockstar when I go exercising in 17 degree weather. Since I'm running at roughly 20 minutes per mile, look a little bit like an old lady and am grunting, I'm pretty sure this rockstar status is all in my head.

Still, there is something to be said about spending winter outside. For instance, running in snow and against 30 degree winds makes me really happy I didn't spend $75 a month on a gym because my ass muscles are getting a seriously great workout. Also, I love passing other runners in the winter. There's a lot of smiling and waving, as if to say, "Yeah. You're awesome too. People inside are stupid." And I love being really, really hot and sweaty when it's 17 degrees. It's so cool.

Well, it's Sunday. Church class day. Playoff day. Allowance day.

That's right. It's allowance day. Carolyn has really started helping out around the house, cleaning her room, sorting laundry, letting Fife in and out, in and out, in and out of the house. I talked to other moms who do allowance, and by the time a kid is about 6, chores start to become chores, so I thought it might be good to start her now.

For her first allowance, she wanted a candy bar. We walked over to the nearby gas station and she picked a chocolate bar. It's came to $1.10. Hello... I give her $1, with the hopes that if she wants to blow it on candy, that would kind of cover it... Ummm. No. When did candy bars start costing more than $1?

But she's up to $2 now. She expressed interest in buying some bathtub crayons today, which she said she wants to share with Penny. I'm thinking I'll toss in the cost to cover the purchase, just because Carolyn is so darn sweet.

Not at all like her sister. I'll get into that later.

-14: Feels like -36

I don't want to be one of those Midwesterners who only talks about the weather, but here's the thing. I really don't have anything to talk about. It's 14 degrees below zero. It's 10:30 in the morning. It's super sunny outside.

And we're trapped — again. Thankfully, the cable (which, in our house, includes the television, Internet AND phone) started working again or I might have started drinking early today, even by my standards.

Everything is canceled again today. School. Activities. Even the university said, "Brrrr... Don't bother walking to class today, bundled up college kids. Just go ahead and walk to the bar/liquor store/booty call's house instead." You might notice a theme in my winter-related blogs that includes lots of alcohol. This is not a new theme.

Anyway, Steve gave me a nice lesson on the Central Illinois weather this morning. He said today is, on average, the coldest day of the year. This area only has about four days that average below freezing. That's pretty rockin'. And after a series of later and later mornings, followed by stagnation, the morning light starts to pick up so drastically that it will be sunny by 6 a.m. in just about a month.

What does all this mean? It's hump day, for winter. Shots anybody?

While the rising of the sun is not uniquely Normal, the warmer weather actually is new. In Michigan, our former home, it continutes to get colder for a while longer. Sorry mom.

A wee chilly

I guess it's winter and all, so I shouldn't be too surprised the weather isn't phenomenal, but it's a tad bit too cold right now to do... well... to do almost anything. We did manage to walk to get Carolyn from school today, but that pretty much rounded out the excitement of our day. At 7 degrees, I felt it was quite an accomplishment.

Instead, we made these really interesting Red Velvet cupcakes from a recipe in, of all place, Runners World. I'm pretty sure most hard-core runners aren't putting a half pound of butter in their cupcakes, but who am I to argue.

I also made pizza and some extra pizza dough for a rainy (snowy) day. Actually, we'll probably use them when it's not snowy or rainy. We'll use them when it finally turns 40 and I decide to spend all day outside at the playground. Even if there is some snow on the ground. In shorts.

As a side note, I just went to the Runners World site and saw a blurb about a recommendation to outlaw talking on cell phones while driving. The National Safety Council just reported driving while talking poses the same risk as drinking and driving. I'm as guilty as anybody of a little chitchat behind the wheel, but I think this is a very, very good thing. Drivers should be concentrating on the task at hand — driving.

Status updates

For whatever reason, I've had about a billion things I've wanted to say today on Facebook. But I always think it's weird when people update like 15 times a day, so I've just kept these thoughts crammed inside, creating a mini-pressure system waiting to explode.

So instead, I'll just update here.

1) Christine has reason to believe Helvetica is the top reason for Facebook's popularity.
2) Christine thinks she's the only person in the world to watch VH1s Charm School reunion and a PBS documentary on fonts in the same evening.
3) Christine thinks she missed the memo that required all people to clean their house today.
4) Christine is hungry.
5) Christine wonders if she'll ever get sick of her Colin Hay Pandora station.
6) Christine hates banner ads that say things like, "What would happen to your family if you died today."
7) Christine wishes Penny wasn't sick or hurt every other week. Although... she is a good patient.

Whew... That felt good. I'm sure there's a lot I'd like to say, but I think I'll spend the time with my family instead. Christine wonders if there's a such a thing as too much time with one's children.

Lions, Tigers and Shots... Oh my

I saw my future today, and it's not pretty.

While Penny was having her annual exam (she's 100 percent on height and 75 on weight, fyi. Tall girl!) I got both girls flu shots. Penny was fine, but Carolyn expressed slight dissatisfaction with her service. Actually, she acted like she was ambushed, and she sort of was.

But whatever. It's one shot. But in a few months, she'll need four shots. FOUR!!! This is going to take more than a Steak and Shake milkshake and plate of french fries (which I swore I wasn't going to eat, but then I did and then I ate most of them). At 4 years old (5 by the time we return to the doctor) she knows what a shot is. And she can count to four. And she's got a much better memory than I do.

Since this isn't until April, I'll try not to think about it too much. But I definitely will need to come up with a plan of action for a) getting her the shots and b)rewarding her for her oh-so-brave behavior.

The year is still new

So far, the New Year's resolutions are going pretty great. No major slip-ups, unless you include my maybe not being confirmed by the Catholic Church until my marriage has been blessed. Who knew? Certainly I didn't, or I might have worked a little harder at cutting through all the red tape the Vatican has plastered across the church doors.

But everything else is fine. For instance, I've been very good on my "drink milk" resolution.

Carolyn always says she drinks a lot of milk because she wants to be strong. Kudos. And she says Steve drinks a lot of milk too. I told her I did too, and she looked at me doubtingly. Then, right there at the library play room, she called me out.

"You only drink wine," she said.

Stop hitting yourself

Carolyn has learned about blame. Specifically, she's learned to stop taking it.

The other day while we were driving, both girls had bags of crayons in the car. Penny's bag also had the much-coveted green highlighter. Penny set the bag down to do something, and Carolyn swiftly snatched up the highlighter.

Penny, quite rightly, was like (and I'm paraphrasing), "Hey there, thief. What's up." And Carolyn said (not paraphrasing), "Penny shouldn't have put her bag so close to me."

This came on the heels of another episode involving two block towers. The girls were quietly building said towers in the downstairs playroom when the screaming started. Steve went downstairs to find Penny's tower in shambles.

"Penny shouldn't have let me play with her tower," Carolyn said.

Oh yeah. Not, "I shouldn't have gone all Godzilla on your tower" or "I should have avoided crashing into it at top speed." While this is likely true, maybe Penny has a different side to this.

"I shouldn't have let Carolyn play with my tower." Hmmm. Maybe not.

Happy New Year

It has been a mighty quiet day around these parts. In fact, I've been so busy doing nothing, I'm ready for a nap. But first, here's two pics of my favorite girls.

Have a fantastic 2009!