We are almost at the end of Day 2 of our potty-training boot camp, and so far so good. Lucy has only had 1 accident today, and by the early evening she seemed to finally be getting the connection between feeling the need to go and going.
Yesterday, she was clearly afraid to poop on the potty and she was clearly holding it in for a while there. After I put her in a diaper for bedtime, she ran downstairs to kiss Chris goodnight. He became suspicious when she instead went behind the couch and he asked her what she was doing.
"I think I will make poopie now," she told him.
Today Chris brought home three very cute-looking chocolate candies, to be eaten only once Lucy made "poopie on the potty." Low and behold, about half an hour later, things began to (ahem) move forward.
Lucy was doing so well by this evening that I let her run around outside some and she stayed out there for a solid hour without any accidents! I am hoping that I will be able to relax my vigilance tomorrow (I have literally done nothing all day but track her around the house, and for most of the day we were spending 5 minutes out of every 10 in the bathroom.)
In just a few minutes I will begin the nightime routine, and as long as nothing disastrous happens I will declare this day a victory. I don't want to count my chickens before they are hatched, but so far this has been a relatively painless process. Don't get me wrong, I would still rather do almost anything else other than potty-train, but.... if we can continue on in this vein, it will be entirely liveable. I never thought I'd even be tempted to refer to potty-training in those terms.
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Monday, April 26, 2010
We are potty-training today
Gah! I hate this. If I had known that raising children would include having to house-break them, I never would have....
Well, okay, I guess I did know. But if I am honest, my internal dialogue every time I discover that I am pregnant again goes something like this:
We are going to have a baby! Hooray! But, crap, that's one more time I'm going to have to potty-train.
Well, here we go again. Thus far today, Lucy is not taking this very seriously. She thinks it is kind of funny. I am increasingly of the opposite opinion. We'll see who wins this round.
Well, okay, I guess I did know. But if I am honest, my internal dialogue every time I discover that I am pregnant again goes something like this:
We are going to have a baby! Hooray! But, crap, that's one more time I'm going to have to potty-train.
Well, here we go again. Thus far today, Lucy is not taking this very seriously. She thinks it is kind of funny. I am increasingly of the opposite opinion. We'll see who wins this round.
Monday, April 19, 2010
When being cavalier about the weather is a big mistake
The girls had a half-day on Friday, so we decided that it would be fun to walk to the little playground that is about a mile down the road. The neighbor kids showed up and asked if they could come along, so we packed up some water and headed out.
We met another family at the park and had a great time. The kids were all playing well, it was a gorgeous day, and the hours just sped by. Some time around 5, however, the neighbor kids' Grandmother suddenly showed up in her car and informed all of us that a tornado warning had just been issued for our area.
I looked up at the sky, which was darkening in the distance, and the wind was picking up a bit, but it didn't look like anything terribly serious. I mentally dismissed the Grandmother's panic, and declined an offer from my friend to drive us home. The walk to the park had been nice, and I could see no reason why the walk back wouldn't be as enjoyable.
About 2/3 home, however, things suddenly took a very, very bad turn. The sky became purple and the wind began to howl. Rain came from nowhere and literally drenched us all to the skin within a few seconds. The girls were completely panicked. It all happened so fast that I can't remember who was doing what, but somebody took off running in pure fear and it was nearly impossible to shout at her over the wind. I finally gathered everyone around me, and decided to call Chris for rescue and then find a place where we could wait. As I dialed my phone, however, the wind ripped a FOR SALE sign off of the house across the street, and whipped it directly at us. The girls were screaming, and I tried to simultaneously shield Lucy (who was on my back) and deflect the sheet of heavy metal from the girls. Honestly, I can't remember how we avoided getting hit by it -- whether I did something, or whether the wind just diverted it in another direction, but as soon as we were clear from that danger, I shouted for the girls to run with all their might for the Post Office ahead of us.
We made it inside without further incident, all of us soaking wet but otherwise not hurt. The Post Office matron very kindly gave us all towels to dry our faces and after a few minutes Chris showed up to bring us home.
Later that day, Katie - who has been living in Middle Earth for a while now - told me that she no longer feels as eager for adventure as she had been. "Being in danger wasn't exciting at all," she said, "it just felt scary."
We met another family at the park and had a great time. The kids were all playing well, it was a gorgeous day, and the hours just sped by. Some time around 5, however, the neighbor kids' Grandmother suddenly showed up in her car and informed all of us that a tornado warning had just been issued for our area.
I looked up at the sky, which was darkening in the distance, and the wind was picking up a bit, but it didn't look like anything terribly serious. I mentally dismissed the Grandmother's panic, and declined an offer from my friend to drive us home. The walk to the park had been nice, and I could see no reason why the walk back wouldn't be as enjoyable.
About 2/3 home, however, things suddenly took a very, very bad turn. The sky became purple and the wind began to howl. Rain came from nowhere and literally drenched us all to the skin within a few seconds. The girls were completely panicked. It all happened so fast that I can't remember who was doing what, but somebody took off running in pure fear and it was nearly impossible to shout at her over the wind. I finally gathered everyone around me, and decided to call Chris for rescue and then find a place where we could wait. As I dialed my phone, however, the wind ripped a FOR SALE sign off of the house across the street, and whipped it directly at us. The girls were screaming, and I tried to simultaneously shield Lucy (who was on my back) and deflect the sheet of heavy metal from the girls. Honestly, I can't remember how we avoided getting hit by it -- whether I did something, or whether the wind just diverted it in another direction, but as soon as we were clear from that danger, I shouted for the girls to run with all their might for the Post Office ahead of us.
We made it inside without further incident, all of us soaking wet but otherwise not hurt. The Post Office matron very kindly gave us all towels to dry our faces and after a few minutes Chris showed up to bring us home.
Later that day, Katie - who has been living in Middle Earth for a while now - told me that she no longer feels as eager for adventure as she had been. "Being in danger wasn't exciting at all," she said, "it just felt scary."
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Art of Leisure
On Monday, I clocked in at 4am to the bakery for the last time. On Tuesday, Lucy had her much anticipated, greatly hyped 3rd birthday. On Wednesday, I chaperoned the 5th grade field trip to Philadelphia.
Today, I am doing nothing.
Chris tells me that he has finally solved our picture-uploading problems, so tomorrow I plan to dig out all of those pictures I have been promising to post for the last four months.
Right now, though, I am going to tuck Dicken's Dombey and Son under my arm and go sit outside while the girls play kickball. I'm going to listen to the birds chirp, and feel the warm breeze, and beyond the swing-pushing that I will most likely agree to, I will enjoy this day of not doing a blessed thing.
Today, I am doing nothing.
Chris tells me that he has finally solved our picture-uploading problems, so tomorrow I plan to dig out all of those pictures I have been promising to post for the last four months.
Right now, though, I am going to tuck Dicken's Dombey and Son under my arm and go sit outside while the girls play kickball. I'm going to listen to the birds chirp, and feel the warm breeze, and beyond the swing-pushing that I will most likely agree to, I will enjoy this day of not doing a blessed thing.
Saturday, April 10, 2010
Expecting
The sound below of laughter boisterous
Together now, then scattered, singular
As the small one creeps up stairs to sidle near,
Too new a branch to burn long unassisted.
The silent fluttering within
Gives the sweetness of her tousled head
Against my arm a kind of salty tang.
She warms with quickened ease now,
A touch, a shift, the blaze renews,
Straining for embers more rarely
The light less borrowed or shared,
Smoldering from fissures unseen.
So soon to be her own and not of mine!
And while this quickening draws,
Stirring and pulling at the frame,
Yet still the yearning it drafts
Clings again to the earlier branch
And is the more consumed.
Too bright for pain, the mesmerizing flames
Mine, less so with every flare.
The searing dear to yield such wonder.
Together now, then scattered, singular
As the small one creeps up stairs to sidle near,
Too new a branch to burn long unassisted.
The silent fluttering within
Gives the sweetness of her tousled head
Against my arm a kind of salty tang.
She warms with quickened ease now,
A touch, a shift, the blaze renews,
Straining for embers more rarely
The light less borrowed or shared,
Smoldering from fissures unseen.
So soon to be her own and not of mine!
And while this quickening draws,
Stirring and pulling at the frame,
Yet still the yearning it drafts
Clings again to the earlier branch
And is the more consumed.
Too bright for pain, the mesmerizing flames
Mine, less so with every flare.
The searing dear to yield such wonder.
Thursday, April 08, 2010
The other "stuff"
The two younger girls and I went to Target this afternoon.
The corner counter top in the kitchen has been bugging me lately, because it tends to be the dumping ground for all sorts of junk. Chris has a habit of scrawling vital and irreplaceable information on little pieces of scrap paper and then dumping them on the pile of junk mail, and after accidentally pitching a few important scrawls I have washed my hands of the pile altogether. This means that the mountain of scrap paper (interspersed with business cards, surgical tidbits, and reciepts) grows and grows and grows....and takes up the entire counterspace. I have tried multiple times to impose order via various wicker baskets, once I even tried a bread drawer, but the pile always ends up overwhelming whatever container I was hoping would...contain the stuff. So naturally I have come to the conclusion that I just need a bigger container.
I was browsing the "storage" section, looking over the baskets and canvas boxes, when Abbie asked what I was looking for. I heard her right away because she tends to speak in an only slightly subdued yell whenever we are in stores.
"I'm just looking for something to put Daddy's stuff in," I said.
"Oh," Abbie responded in her signature screechy-yell, "You mean beer!"
The corner counter top in the kitchen has been bugging me lately, because it tends to be the dumping ground for all sorts of junk. Chris has a habit of scrawling vital and irreplaceable information on little pieces of scrap paper and then dumping them on the pile of junk mail, and after accidentally pitching a few important scrawls I have washed my hands of the pile altogether. This means that the mountain of scrap paper (interspersed with business cards, surgical tidbits, and reciepts) grows and grows and grows....and takes up the entire counterspace. I have tried multiple times to impose order via various wicker baskets, once I even tried a bread drawer, but the pile always ends up overwhelming whatever container I was hoping would...contain the stuff. So naturally I have come to the conclusion that I just need a bigger container.
I was browsing the "storage" section, looking over the baskets and canvas boxes, when Abbie asked what I was looking for. I heard her right away because she tends to speak in an only slightly subdued yell whenever we are in stores.
"I'm just looking for something to put Daddy's stuff in," I said.
"Oh," Abbie responded in her signature screechy-yell, "You mean beer!"
Saturday, April 03, 2010
The children's dreams come true
Chris was in the middle of prepping his famous fish and chips for dinner tonight, when there was a disaster with the cod. Don't ask what it was, because now that the girls are reading this blog I have to be careful, and I want them to stay enthusiastic fish lovers. It was bad, though, so although Chris was already halfway done with the french fries he baled on the fish and ordered pizza.
When the girls came up the stairs to discover a dinner of pizza and french fries, they were understandably stoked.
Katie eyed the table in surprise, "Are you sure Easter isn't tonight?" she asked.
When the girls came up the stairs to discover a dinner of pizza and french fries, they were understandably stoked.
Katie eyed the table in surprise, "Are you sure Easter isn't tonight?" she asked.
Friday, April 02, 2010
Ephiphany in preparation for Easter
This is not nearly as profound as it sounds.
I ran to Target after work today to pick up a few extra things I still needed for Easter Baskets....one of the "extras" being the Easter baskets themselves. Earlier this year, when Chris and I were cleaning out the basement, I threw away all of the old Easter baskets. They were in lousy shape, and I figured that it would be better to just buy new ones.
So, in Target, I made my way to the Easter section and found myself appalled at how expensive those stupid things are. There is no way that I am going to shell out $20 per baskets for the nicer, sturdier ones, but at the same time it felt wrong to spend between $7-12 on the cheap baskets that I know won't last more than a few years.
What to do? Suddenly, it hit me and I made my way to the other side of the store. The purse section. And there, hanging prettily from hooks in a variety of bright colors were the perfect bags - big and roomy, with plenty of space for presents and a deep enough so that they can be tied shut. (The Easter bunny often brings our gifts in themes, and it can be a bummer for some girls to stumble upon someone else's basket and then basically know what their own baskets hold long before finding them.)
These bags are perfect! Easy to store, sturdy, well-made and $10 a piece! Hooray! It felt good to leave the store knowing that I won't be dropping another $60+ in a year or two for new baskets. Plus, when I got home, the girls were just as ecstatic as I knew they'd be; what girl can resist the lure of a cute new purse???
And in light of Katie's post below, for the curious: yes, I did buy six purses. But just in case, the last one was blue.
I ran to Target after work today to pick up a few extra things I still needed for Easter Baskets....one of the "extras" being the Easter baskets themselves. Earlier this year, when Chris and I were cleaning out the basement, I threw away all of the old Easter baskets. They were in lousy shape, and I figured that it would be better to just buy new ones.
So, in Target, I made my way to the Easter section and found myself appalled at how expensive those stupid things are. There is no way that I am going to shell out $20 per baskets for the nicer, sturdier ones, but at the same time it felt wrong to spend between $7-12 on the cheap baskets that I know won't last more than a few years.
What to do? Suddenly, it hit me and I made my way to the other side of the store. The purse section. And there, hanging prettily from hooks in a variety of bright colors were the perfect bags - big and roomy, with plenty of space for presents and a deep enough so that they can be tied shut. (The Easter bunny often brings our gifts in themes, and it can be a bummer for some girls to stumble upon someone else's basket and then basically know what their own baskets hold long before finding them.)
These bags are perfect! Easy to store, sturdy, well-made and $10 a piece! Hooray! It felt good to leave the store knowing that I won't be dropping another $60+ in a year or two for new baskets. Plus, when I got home, the girls were just as ecstatic as I knew they'd be; what girl can resist the lure of a cute new purse???
And in light of Katie's post below, for the curious: yes, I did buy six purses. But just in case, the last one was blue.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
Guest post by Katie
Hello, my name is Katie. As being the oldest of 4 others, things can get pretty hectic. Also, with me being in 5th grade, I have a lot of projects and homework "To get us ready for Middle School" as the teachers say. I do write a lot of books, half of the ones I think of I write. And yes, I am an elf. My address is 5116 Apple Tree. Look at 5116 closely, and you might figure this out. Give your guesses in the commment box. J.R.R Tolkien is my favorite author. READ THE LORD OF THE RINGS!!!! It's great, unless you HATE fantasy( shame on all that do).
I sometimes get breakfast for the girls, watch them on the bus, play with them, etc.
I sometimes get breakfast for the girls, watch them on the bus, play with them, etc.
Now for my big annoncment.
October 13, or around then, welcome kid number 6!!!
WOOHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
WOOHOO!!!!!!!!!!!!
Friday, March 19, 2010
Lots of activity for one day....
...considering the fact that I have been updating this so infrequently lately. The reasons are:
1 - I didn't work yesterday or today, which means I'm fully rested (aka coherent) today
2 - I'm sick, so lazing around more than usual
3 - I'm feeling alive because I just quit my job! (Well, mostly. I'll still be working until mid April, but at least there is an end in sight to the 4am-4pm shifts of doom.)
Also, you'll notice the new twitter feed to the left. I know that it is ridiculous for a woman to have a blog AND a twitter account when she has nothing to say, but it was the only way to enter a "meet Conan O'Brien" contest. So, there you go.
1 - I didn't work yesterday or today, which means I'm fully rested (aka coherent) today
2 - I'm sick, so lazing around more than usual
3 - I'm feeling alive because I just quit my job! (Well, mostly. I'll still be working until mid April, but at least there is an end in sight to the 4am-4pm shifts of doom.)
Also, you'll notice the new twitter feed to the left. I know that it is ridiculous for a woman to have a blog AND a twitter account when she has nothing to say, but it was the only way to enter a "meet Conan O'Brien" contest. So, there you go.
Unpredictable
We were in Target today when Lucy, suddenly and with no warning, began to publicly humiliate a random woman who happened to be walking slightly in front of us.
"Look!" She yelled out, pointing, "It's an old lady! That is a OLD LADY!"
I would guess the poor woman was in her mid-forties. At the most. She looked pretty spry to me.
"Look at that OLD LADY!" Lucy yelled out again, just as I clamped my hand over her mouth and swooped her into a side aisle to get her out of sight.
"Lucy," I whispered frantically to her, "we don't talk about people like that. It's bad manners!"
"Oh," she said, furrowing for a moment. "I'm sorry."
We began to make our way through the store (far away from where the woman - who may or may not have noticed the commotion Lucy was making towards her) when Lucy, who must have been thinking it over, piped up, "Mom!"
"Yes?" I asked.
"But that lady was old!"
Back to the drawing board with this one. I wish I knew what it was about this poor woman that left such a strong impression on Lucy. I also wish I knew how to predict and stop these kinds of outbursts before they happened. I have a feeling, though, that this is but a small hint of the unpredictable nature of Miss Lucy Anna.
"Look!" She yelled out, pointing, "It's an old lady! That is a OLD LADY!"
I would guess the poor woman was in her mid-forties. At the most. She looked pretty spry to me.
"Look at that OLD LADY!" Lucy yelled out again, just as I clamped my hand over her mouth and swooped her into a side aisle to get her out of sight.
"Lucy," I whispered frantically to her, "we don't talk about people like that. It's bad manners!"
"Oh," she said, furrowing for a moment. "I'm sorry."
We began to make our way through the store (far away from where the woman - who may or may not have noticed the commotion Lucy was making towards her) when Lucy, who must have been thinking it over, piped up, "Mom!"
"Yes?" I asked.
"But that lady was old!"
Back to the drawing board with this one. I wish I knew what it was about this poor woman that left such a strong impression on Lucy. I also wish I knew how to predict and stop these kinds of outbursts before they happened. I have a feeling, though, that this is but a small hint of the unpredictable nature of Miss Lucy Anna.
Another mystery, another potential horror
Does anybody remember the time somebody puked in my bathroom and nobody would fess up to it? You can relive it here, if you wish.
Thank the laptop gods that I still can't upload photos, because we had another mystery last night and this one was of horrific proportions.
A very suspicious brown smear appeared directly in front of the toilet last night. There was also a partial brown handprint on the wall by the light switch.
Disgust, horror, and wild accusations ensued. Everyone was questioned, everyone claimed complete and utter innocence. Just about everyone also had their own suspicions about who it might be; it was kind of like playing "Clue," actually, except that the "weapon" was biological.
The investigation reached the following conclusions:
1 - The hand print actually appeared the previous evening, and is most likely attributable to the chocolate mint souffle we had for St. Patty's Day.
2 - Nobody used the upstairs bathroom yesterday. Not no body, not no how. The various people who were all seen either entering or exiting the bathroom were in there for reasons other than using the facilities. They'd like to see anybody try to prove any different.
3- The girls spent a lot of time outdoors yesterday, and parts of the yard are still very muddy. Thus, although no one admits to being anywhere near the toilet, if somebody had, the smear could have come from muddy shoes.
4- No matter what it was or who did it, it needed to be removed and there was only one person qualified to get the job done.
As I scrubbed the floor, wondering if I should be grateful for having a cold and being unable to smell or if I should be frustrated at my inablitity to use that sense to determine if I was cleaning up mud or....something much worse, Beth stood near the door watching me.
"When I see you doing things like this," she said to me, "it makes me think that maybe I don't want to ever be a mother."
You and me both, kiddo. You and me both.
Thank the laptop gods that I still can't upload photos, because we had another mystery last night and this one was of horrific proportions.
A very suspicious brown smear appeared directly in front of the toilet last night. There was also a partial brown handprint on the wall by the light switch.
Disgust, horror, and wild accusations ensued. Everyone was questioned, everyone claimed complete and utter innocence. Just about everyone also had their own suspicions about who it might be; it was kind of like playing "Clue," actually, except that the "weapon" was biological.
The investigation reached the following conclusions:
1 - The hand print actually appeared the previous evening, and is most likely attributable to the chocolate mint souffle we had for St. Patty's Day.
2 - Nobody used the upstairs bathroom yesterday. Not no body, not no how. The various people who were all seen either entering or exiting the bathroom were in there for reasons other than using the facilities. They'd like to see anybody try to prove any different.
3- The girls spent a lot of time outdoors yesterday, and parts of the yard are still very muddy. Thus, although no one admits to being anywhere near the toilet, if somebody had, the smear could have come from muddy shoes.
4- No matter what it was or who did it, it needed to be removed and there was only one person qualified to get the job done.
As I scrubbed the floor, wondering if I should be grateful for having a cold and being unable to smell or if I should be frustrated at my inablitity to use that sense to determine if I was cleaning up mud or....something much worse, Beth stood near the door watching me.
"When I see you doing things like this," she said to me, "it makes me think that maybe I don't want to ever be a mother."
You and me both, kiddo. You and me both.
Sunday, March 14, 2010
Guest post by Beth
The girls have suddenly gone blog-crazy, so I am allowing both Beth and Katie to write their own posts. Here's Beth's:
Hi! I'm Beth.Rebecca Mlinek daughter.(#2 out of 5.) Sometimes I pull Lucy around in a basket. One time I was cleaning my room. I put Lucy in the basket. Then I went to put clothes in the landry basket.When I got back Lucy was in the basket but sideways. "DADDY!" she cried.Yes,daddy.I've been known as daddy latley. When we play house I'm the dad.I found Lucy sideways alot.Finaly, I went dowstairs to put a toy away. Guess what? Lucy follwed me. Luckily, Katie was there so Lucy cried "MOMMY!" Yes, mommy. Katie is the mom when we play house.Lucy went with her. Free at last. Free to clean in peace! Only bad part is I don't really like to clean. I just like to play.(P.S When I wrote this so mom could approve it I was watching Dad and Uncle Andy play Modern Warfar 2 on the Xbox. Uncle Andy's broke.)
Hi! I'm Beth.Rebecca Mlinek daughter.(#2 out of 5.) Sometimes I pull Lucy around in a basket. One time I was cleaning my room. I put Lucy in the basket. Then I went to put clothes in the landry basket.When I got back Lucy was in the basket but sideways. "DADDY!" she cried.Yes,daddy.I've been known as daddy latley. When we play house I'm the dad.I found Lucy sideways alot.Finaly, I went dowstairs to put a toy away. Guess what? Lucy follwed me. Luckily, Katie was there so Lucy cried "MOMMY!" Yes, mommy. Katie is the mom when we play house.Lucy went with her. Free at last. Free to clean in peace! Only bad part is I don't really like to clean. I just like to play.(P.S When I wrote this so mom could approve it I was watching Dad and Uncle Andy play Modern Warfar 2 on the Xbox. Uncle Andy's broke.)
Tuesday, March 09, 2010
How Lucy dominates her father
Chris kindly let me sleep in this morning, and he most likely regretted it the moment he stepped foot outside our bedroom.
He found Lucy in the kitchen, meticulously strewing toilet paper around the table and chairs.*
"What are you doing?" he (sensibly) asked her.
She replied, "It's Lucy Anna's birthday!"**
Looking at his face as he surveyed the damage, she added, "It can be your birthday, too!"
*She also "decorated" the toilet paper with pink fabric glue
**It is not Lucy Anna's birthday
He found Lucy in the kitchen, meticulously strewing toilet paper around the table and chairs.*
"What are you doing?" he (sensibly) asked her.
She replied, "It's Lucy Anna's birthday!"**
Looking at his face as he surveyed the damage, she added, "It can be your birthday, too!"
*She also "decorated" the toilet paper with pink fabric glue
**It is not Lucy Anna's birthday
Wednesday, March 03, 2010
Irrepressible
Chris heard feet pattering in the kitchen after the girls had gone to bed. When he went to investigate, he found Abbie, who claimed that she couldn't go to sleep because Lucy was being, "crazy."
So Chris went upstairs to see what "crazy" meant.
Lucy had tossed her blankets around the room and was sitting on her bare bed, holding a clothes hanger and pontificating to her toys.
"Lucy," Chris thundered, "what are you doing?"
She turned calm and unconcerned eyes to him and replied, "Tomorrow, I need you to buy me some candy!"
She was actually surprised to find herself in trouble after that.
I've said it before, but it is really, really true: a worry and a wonder is what this kid is. In that order.
So Chris went upstairs to see what "crazy" meant.
Lucy had tossed her blankets around the room and was sitting on her bare bed, holding a clothes hanger and pontificating to her toys.
"Lucy," Chris thundered, "what are you doing?"
She turned calm and unconcerned eyes to him and replied, "Tomorrow, I need you to buy me some candy!"
She was actually surprised to find herself in trouble after that.
I've said it before, but it is really, really true: a worry and a wonder is what this kid is. In that order.
Tuesday, March 02, 2010
Word of warning
Katie has been reading my blog regularly for about three months now. She has decided that she should "give her perspective" in the comment box, and after thinking about it (I mean, this is my blog! I should be able to put whatever I want up here without an opinionated ten year old dogging my every move!) I decided to give her a go.
We'll see how this works.
I guess I'll have to stop writing posts about what a terrible, no-good loser my firstborn is. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted. :)
(Also, another word of warning: I'm letting her read the blogs linked on my sidebar. She's mostly reading your blog, Vanessa - just to let you know!)
We'll see how this works.
I guess I'll have to stop writing posts about what a terrible, no-good loser my firstborn is. Oh, well. It was fun while it lasted. :)
(Also, another word of warning: I'm letting her read the blogs linked on my sidebar. She's mostly reading your blog, Vanessa - just to let you know!)
Our first neice!
We have a niece! Our very first!
If my computer would allow me to upload photos, I'd put one on here. Unfortunately, everyone will just have to imagine how perfect, and sweet, and utterly adorable baby Gianna is. It's easy - just picture the most adorable baby you've ever seen, and then kick it up a notch. Don't forget the soft cloud of dark hair and perfectly round, lightly pink cheeks.
She's really beautiful.
And now here is a funny story:
Chris and I have been asked to be the godparents for this particular bundle of awesomeness. We were only too glad to accept, naturally. Becky and Dante were both firmly convinced that they were having a boy, and we both had a little laugh over the fact that, although we collectively have 5 godchildren, this would be our very first male godchild.
So, two weeks ago, I ran into our parish office to get forms for the baptism. I was actually getting multiple forms, because I also have the honor of being godmother to my friend Monica's new baby, Cecilia. There was a crowd in the office that morning, and a few people commented upon how much they enjoy seeing our parade of girls every Sunday. I thanked them for the compliment, and then explained my errand to the secretary.
It took the secretary a few minutes to fill out all of the necessary forms, and as she worked on them she said, "You must be very popular godparents!"
Reflexively, I said, "I guess people just naturally think of us when they have baby girls!" and we all laughed.
As I said it though, I mentally chided myself because Becky was so very, very confident that she was having a boy.
Heh heh heh.
So welcome to little Gianna, such a surprise to her mommy (although not a surprise to her big brother, who insisted all along that he was getting a sister!) It continues to amaze me how very deeply I can be moved by other people's babies. You might think that, having had so many of my own, I'd be totally over the whole miracle-of-life thing, but it's not so. As I looked down on the peaceful, perfect little face of Gianna, I was absolutely overwhelmed with awe and love. What a miracle. What a blessing. What an honor to have some share in this little soul's life. Welcome, little one. May God bless you now, and always.
If my computer would allow me to upload photos, I'd put one on here. Unfortunately, everyone will just have to imagine how perfect, and sweet, and utterly adorable baby Gianna is. It's easy - just picture the most adorable baby you've ever seen, and then kick it up a notch. Don't forget the soft cloud of dark hair and perfectly round, lightly pink cheeks.
She's really beautiful.
And now here is a funny story:
Chris and I have been asked to be the godparents for this particular bundle of awesomeness. We were only too glad to accept, naturally. Becky and Dante were both firmly convinced that they were having a boy, and we both had a little laugh over the fact that, although we collectively have 5 godchildren, this would be our very first male godchild.
So, two weeks ago, I ran into our parish office to get forms for the baptism. I was actually getting multiple forms, because I also have the honor of being godmother to my friend Monica's new baby, Cecilia. There was a crowd in the office that morning, and a few people commented upon how much they enjoy seeing our parade of girls every Sunday. I thanked them for the compliment, and then explained my errand to the secretary.
It took the secretary a few minutes to fill out all of the necessary forms, and as she worked on them she said, "You must be very popular godparents!"
Reflexively, I said, "I guess people just naturally think of us when they have baby girls!" and we all laughed.
As I said it though, I mentally chided myself because Becky was so very, very confident that she was having a boy.
Heh heh heh.
So welcome to little Gianna, such a surprise to her mommy (although not a surprise to her big brother, who insisted all along that he was getting a sister!) It continues to amaze me how very deeply I can be moved by other people's babies. You might think that, having had so many of my own, I'd be totally over the whole miracle-of-life thing, but it's not so. As I looked down on the peaceful, perfect little face of Gianna, I was absolutely overwhelmed with awe and love. What a miracle. What a blessing. What an honor to have some share in this little soul's life. Welcome, little one. May God bless you now, and always.
Sunday, February 14, 2010
Happy Valentine's Day!!!
Valentine's Day is such a different experience when you have kids. I remember our first Valentine's Day as a couple, when Chris and I made elaborate gifts for each other by hand. (He made me a huge card, complete with glitter and hearts that he had cut out of construction paper. I made him a clay model of Champ, the Loch Ness monster of Vermont, and we both made mix tapes for each other, with detailed descriptions of why each song was chosen...) We opened a bottle of Chardonnay (which neither of us liked) and I think we went out to eat, although I can't actually remember. In those days, dinner out was not the rare, amazing treat it is now.
Here we are now, though, with five little girls giggling profusely around us, and the romance level of this holiday has definitely taken a hit.
It's awesome.
The girls began the day so very sweetly. (That is, if you overlook how Lucy woke up and promptly removed her diaper, then with complete unconcern proceeded to urinate all over herself in the kitchen. I am doing everything in my power to supress that memory, and I think it might be working....)
Katie made Chris and I cards with little poems she had composed herself. Beth is planning some sort of one-man play that will no doubt shock and impress us later this evening. Abbie made us pictures with her signature "Abbie! Amy!" captions. (Those are the only words she can write by memory -- I have no answer for why she taught herself to write "Amy" as Abbie does not know a single person with that name. Some things are destined to remain a mystery.)
Lucy promised to keep her diaper on.
Claire, though, stole the show with her awesome cards. I've included her card to Chris here, because I love it. It's an illustration of "How Daddy kills the bad guys," and she included a pull-away paper sword to use as neccessary. (The sword was too big to scan, so you just see the top of it here.)
Later on today, Chris will make an awesome Thai-inspired mussel dish (and hamburgers for the girls) and we will try out the milk chocolate mousse with port-wine ganache topped with vanilla creme fraiche that I attempted. Then we'll put the kids to bed, and Chris and I will probably watch a movie and then hit the hay, as I need to be up by 3:15 tomorrow.
Not exactly the wine-and-roses days of our youth, but so much better because it is so....real. And funny. Chris will probably (as he has every morning since the big snow) roll out of bed as I'm getting dressed tomorrow to warm the car up for me, and my heart will melt more than I ever thought possible that first Valentine's Day, even though I thought then that I was as deeply in love as it gets.
Back then, we had all the time in the world to devote to romance. But we didn't have Valentine's Day cards illustrated with blood and rotting corpses. And we didn't have bracelets painstakingly made out of blue plastic beads. And we didn't have toddlers gravely promising to "keep the diaper on! Because I love you."
I look at the commercials on the t.v. today, with their flowers and jewelry and fancy clothes and night-on-the-towns, and I wouldn't trade a single second of this day for it.
Man, I love my family.
Wednesday, February 10, 2010
Snowpocolypse Now
This is the craziest snowstorm I've ever seen. Claire keeps asking, "Are we snowed in yet?" and I eventually realized that what she means is, "Is it physically impossible for us to exit our house yet?"
Close. Really close. The snow in our backyard is level with the deck railing. Chris went out to brush off the air vent, and the snow at some points was over his chest.
The girls had been logging some serious hours outside since the last storm a few days ago, but today it is literally impossible. The wind is so intense that I often can't see outside the windows, and the snow is over the heads of all of the girls. Chris and I spent a good four hours (and Chris spent closer to six) digging out the driveway last Saturday, and now you can't tell that we did it at all. Chris made a foray outside today, but we've decided to wait to shovel until tomorrow when the wind dies down.
So how do you spend a snow day when it's too intense to actually enjoy the snow? If you are us, you watch The Killers DVD for the billionth time (and if you think Chris and I are the ones watching this over and over and over, you don't know our kids.) We read. I Bake. We eat. We eat some more. Copious amounts of hot cocoa are consumed. I knit, Chris tries to play video games, and when the girls start to get to crazy I mobilize them to rearrange multiple rooms in the house.
Chris was thrilled with that last one.
A friend called us yesterday on the spur of the moment and invited us over for lunch, before we were all snowed in again. I am so glad that we accepted the offer as I look out now at the white wasteland around us. It's hard to keep from feeling that the snow will be here forever now, that we will have to dig our way to the pool next summer and that hanging up dripping boots and gloves will become a permanent routine.
It's gorgeous, though. And, despite the frantic level of noise as the girls go a leetle bit stir-crazy, it's so nice and cozy to have us all holed up together, drinking our hot cocoa under warm blankets as the snow continues to swirl outside with no sign of slowing down. So we'll fire up the DVD again, and I'll say a small prayer of thanks that we all (Lucy included, no joke) can enjoy The Killers together.
Close. Really close. The snow in our backyard is level with the deck railing. Chris went out to brush off the air vent, and the snow at some points was over his chest.
The girls had been logging some serious hours outside since the last storm a few days ago, but today it is literally impossible. The wind is so intense that I often can't see outside the windows, and the snow is over the heads of all of the girls. Chris and I spent a good four hours (and Chris spent closer to six) digging out the driveway last Saturday, and now you can't tell that we did it at all. Chris made a foray outside today, but we've decided to wait to shovel until tomorrow when the wind dies down.
So how do you spend a snow day when it's too intense to actually enjoy the snow? If you are us, you watch The Killers DVD for the billionth time (and if you think Chris and I are the ones watching this over and over and over, you don't know our kids.) We read. I Bake. We eat. We eat some more. Copious amounts of hot cocoa are consumed. I knit, Chris tries to play video games, and when the girls start to get to crazy I mobilize them to rearrange multiple rooms in the house.
Chris was thrilled with that last one.
A friend called us yesterday on the spur of the moment and invited us over for lunch, before we were all snowed in again. I am so glad that we accepted the offer as I look out now at the white wasteland around us. It's hard to keep from feeling that the snow will be here forever now, that we will have to dig our way to the pool next summer and that hanging up dripping boots and gloves will become a permanent routine.
It's gorgeous, though. And, despite the frantic level of noise as the girls go a leetle bit stir-crazy, it's so nice and cozy to have us all holed up together, drinking our hot cocoa under warm blankets as the snow continues to swirl outside with no sign of slowing down. So we'll fire up the DVD again, and I'll say a small prayer of thanks that we all (Lucy included, no joke) can enjoy The Killers together.
Wednesday, February 03, 2010
foreign lands
We discussed possibly getting "The Rosetta Stone" language tapes yesterday. The girls all weighed in on what language they'd like to learn.
"French," said I (sneakily, as I spent 6 years learning french but can only remember about four words.)
"Spanish," said Katie, practical as usual.
"Latin," said Beth, who likes to mix things up.
"I'd like to learn Texas," said Claire.
"French," said I (sneakily, as I spent 6 years learning french but can only remember about four words.)
"Spanish," said Katie, practical as usual.
"Latin," said Beth, who likes to mix things up.
"I'd like to learn Texas," said Claire.
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