Five!

Dear Mags,

I’m feeling a little over-full from dinner tonight, and it’s reminding me of five years ago when I was about to go into labor with you. Five years is a pretty long time, especially since I really have no concept of what life was like before you arrived. When I try to remember the me I was before you were around, it’s kind of like looking back at a different person, so much of who I am now revolves around being a mom to you and Ellie. You surprise me every day – sometimes the surprise hits me when I realize that you and Ellie have cut your own hair or eaten a whole tin of Altoids or drawn tattoos on yourselves with marker. Today I found the mechanism for a door knob – the part that goes inside the door – under your bed. (?!?) But, more often than not, the surprise is the kind that leaves me nearly stunned with the wonder of how big, how smart, how beautiful and how unique you are.

Yesterday, I bought your Halloween costume – Snow White this year. I was decidedly NOT surprised that you chose a Disney princess as your costume of choice. I was surprised at the fact that you chose Snow White. You have never seen that movie, to the best of my knowledge, unless the babysitter snuck it in there one night while we were off at the symphony (because your father and I are VERY cultured). You tend to be a top-tier princess fan – Ariel, Cinderella. Snow White is more of a classic. She doesn’t say a lot, isn’t all that feisty, and she’s very kind to the dwarves. I like that you went a little off of mainstream. But, back to the shopping trip. I went without you and Ellie because I wanted to have a chance to THINK if necessary, so I bought everything without having you try things on. I went to Target in the hopes that they would have both the Snow White costume you had requested and a pink princess dress because (again, to my surprise) Ellie chose to be a princess but not one from a Disney movie – just one with a pink dress. Anyway, I found both dresses (and the angels sang) AND two pairs of sparkly shoes – pink for Ellie and red for you. You had admired the same shoes months ago, but I had refused to buy them because at the time, I didn’t see the need for you to possess red sparkly shoes. It’s a good thing, too, because your feet have grown. I showed you the shoes this morning, and immediately you said, “Those are the shoes I wanted a long time ago!” And, there you have it – me standing there stunned that you are old enough and smart enough to remember a shopping trip that had to be in July. You have a mind like a steel trap. Then, I had you try the shoes on, and God bless you, if you could have WILLED them to fit, you would have. But, Honey, these are shoes for Halloween and we are actually going trick or treating this year (for the first time ever) – Your shoes need to be comfortable. Eventually, after getting your foot stuck in the ill-fitting sparkly shoes (like Anastasia and Drizella when the guy comes with Cinderella’s glass slipper), you admitted that they probably wouldn’t work. Then, you promptly hid them under a pillow in the back corner of my closet. You did show me where they were and trust me to go in search of a bigger pair today (which I did – and found some – and the angels sang again, even louder than yesterday). When you and Ellie got home from preschool today, you tried on the new shoes and they fit (my surprise at the size of your feet is huge – as are your feet themselves). You then tried on your costume, showed Ellie her costume, helped her put her shoes and dress on and danced about in shared delight with your sister. Neither of you coveted the other’s dress or shoes (knock on wood and register more Mommy surprise – yay!). I’m looking forward to the coming year.

I think four was kind of tough. You developed a very strong head, which I’m sure will serve you well, but which at times drove me BONKERS. Thankfully, along with that new-found assertive opinionated persona, you also set aside the crippling shyness that we’ve dealt with for so long – well, maybe you didn’t set it aside, but you are much better at communicating with people – even in the presence of your Papa and I than you used to be. Thank goodness. Fortunately, (knock on wood again) I think in the last couple of weeks, I’ve seen you actively choose to be a nicer girl on many occasions. I believe that you’re actually getting to an age where you realize what it means to elect to be kind. You have kids in your class that are not considerate or well-behaved, and you tell me about them and how you don’t like to be around them. I enjoy hearing this stuff because hopefully it’s molding you into a thoughtful human being and teaching you to steer clear of ne’er-do-wells. Also, I think you’re really honing your critical thinking skills. In fact, you have developed what I consider a pretty impressive ability to reason with the best of us (although I have to tell you that if I say, “Because I’m your mom and I said so,” it will always trump any argument you can provide no matter how well-considered it may be).

You are really into art at the moment – and learning your letters and writing, writing, writing. Five is going to be the year you learn to read, and that is so exciting. Once you can read, you can begin your quest for world domination – or whatever. I can’t wait to watch those doors open up for you. I also think the art thing is interesting. I don’t remember ever having a great interest in art – I’m not sure why. I’m glad you do. And cooking! Now that we’re finishing up the kitchen remodeling project we’ll be able to cook together even more. I am so proud of you when you help me cook breakfast or dinner. I love how careful you are and how intently you listen and participate in making our food. You can crack an egg without getting shell all over! Rock on, Sister.

Your Papa and I have both noticed that you are developing a knack for turning phrases that are colloquial and appropriate to the situation. I don’t know how that happens in the brain of a kid, either, but it makes you seem like a little adult and very smart. I wish I could think of something you’ve said, but I guess you just stop me dead in my tracks when you do it, and I forget to remember.

Anyway, this year will be a big one. By your next birthday, you’ll have started school and that will be that. I wish you fabulous things for your five-hood. And I look forward to getting to know the unique individual that you’re becoming and becoming and becoming with each waking moment. I’ll keep trying to be the best mom I can be. I love you! Happy birthday, Darlin’.

Love, Mama

Goodness and Light

I love photos of my kids having fun. Fun that doesn't involve sharp knives, electrical outlets, Sharpie markers or scissors. I also love the outbuilding. So happy kids on the bed out there is pretty much as good as it gets. Although those same kids NAPPING on that bed would be right up there.

A Day for Celebration

Today, I became an aunt! Leslie had her baby boy, and I know nothing other than that his name is Kieran Timothy. I was not home when Gramma Jerri called with the news, and well, Jay's not one for details. But yay, City Relatives - Cousin Junior has joined the family!

What else? The sun is shining. The temperature is perfect and I have both cold beer and cold wine waiting for me. And a bounty of tomatoes from the garden. And my little garden out front is doing surprisingly well for me.



What else? We went to IKEA for lunch with the girls and they had Face Painting there, and look who let a complete stranger decorate her skin. And the same kid actually told the woman what she wanted to be painted upon her face. I think we are growing out of the painfully, frightfully shy in the presence of her parents stage. And as one of those parents, I say that is cause for celebration. So Ellie got her face done, too - just like her sister's. And Jay, who was really wanting to get home to paint the kitchen, recognized the significance of the event and went along with it, even though it took a bit of time. Of course, my children plan to never sleep or bathe again in order to keep their faces in their present states. Actually, Mags does plan on sleeping, but only on her back with her face pointing straight up at the ceiling.



What else? Could I be out of good news? NO! I have saved a doozie! I am finished with a year of college chemistry - and my 20-year old self is right now standing in her bedroom down at JMU, looking into the future and wondering who the hell is 40-year old Colleen and why isn't she off using that history degree? Yes, I have more classes that start on Monday, but for 36 hours, I'm going to try to party like it's 1991.

Pinocchio and Super WHY

This morning Maggie came out of her room and told me that her sleeping bag had a rip in it. "Hmm," I thought aloud. "How unlikely that the sleeping bag could have a rip... Maggie, please bring the sleeping bag out here." And then I see that it has been cut with a pair of scissors that, well, God knows where she found them.

"Did you cut the sleeping bag?"

"No."

"Well, when did this happen?"

"While I was sleeping. Ellie did it."

"Maggie, are you telling the truth?"

"Yes, I am."

"Well, that's funny because I can tell when you're lying because your nose grows."

"What?!"

Of course, she had no idea what I meant, but it did freak her out a little. Anyway, as I'm pondering how I'm going to sew up the sleeping bag, since it's clear that Maggie's "Just use some tape" solution won't work, I turn on PBS as a babysitter. Serendipitously, Super WHY (I think my favorite of the morning shows) comes on, and guess what story they hop into? Yes, Pinocchio! If the gods are smiling on me, by the time the Super Readers sing the Hip, Hip Hooray song, Maggie will no that no good comes from lying. If only it could be that simple. But maybe.

You know, I really enjoy dealing with shit like this. Because truly, I have an innate love of and patience for repairing sleeping bags and the like. I do.

What a Freakin' Gorgeous Day!!

Look at my children, frolicking among the spring growth at Yard-n-Garden Land! Spring is truly here, and today is the best day we have had in 2009. Time to break out the SPF60! Oh... April Fool's!

It's just another sucky day of steady rain... but we did sneak out the other day in between showers. The kids are in desperate need of sunny days and space to run around. I know, July will come soon enough...

Because in March, Dandelions are Just Wildflowers

Princess bouquets being held as if two princes are waiting for their brides at the end of the driveway.

Life with Little Girls

...somehow I think we've reached the age when life is fundamentally different between boys and girls. That phone ringing at the end? That was their agent.

A Few Pearls from Mags

Spin Art: We have a nice spin art machine. It was a gift from Jay one year when I asked for one. And when I say it's nice, I mean I could do the birthday party circuit and it would hold up. Every now and then, when the weather's nice, we enjoy taking it out on the porch and getting creative. Problem is, we end up with stacks of spin art paintings. I keep them neatly piled on a shelf, but one day they ended up spewed all over the floor of the great room. When I discovered them, I yelled, "Maggie!! Where did these come from??!!"

"Oh, Mama. They came from our imaginations!"

Baby Chicks at Wilco: The other day, Jay took the girls to see the baby chicks and ducks at Wilco. They keep them in gated little pens with heat lamps, and they are pretty cute. After everyone got home, I asked what the baby chicks said.

"Mama, they didn't say anything. They didn't eat their alphabet soup." (Yes, she is a little familiar with Martha the Talking Dog.)

Finding a Man: After watching Beauty and the Beast, in which the beast at the end turns into a handsome prince with long flowing locks:

"I need to find me a nice guy with good hair." Girl's got her priorities straight. Of course, if you check out the prince at about 3:30 into the video, you'll see that "good hair" is pretty much a Fabio do... I asked her if she wanted to find one so she could marry him (because she tends to frame relationships in Disney princess terms). She said, "No, not so I can marry him. HE has to marry ME."

Saturday, 3:45 AM

Maggie, Maggie, Maggie - We need to have a talk. I know how much you like to touch base with your father in the morning even though he leaves for work by 6AM (on weekdays). I know you like to crawl up in bed with me and watch him choose his clothes and direct him to wear a necktie although that's totally out of the norm at his office. But it's fun. I know how sad you are when you get up in the morning and he is already gone. I remember very clearly the sobbing and despair yesterday morning when you realized that you had missed him. In fact, that crying so moved me that I mentioned it to your loving dad.

He told me that the two of you had had a conversation the night before that went something like this:

Mags: "Papa, I like to wave goodbye to you when you leave for work, but sometimes I don't get to see you in the morning."

Jay: "Yes, Mags, I leave early. If you want to wave goodbye to me, you just have to get up before I leave..."

So, then you tried yesterday morning, and missed him. And cried. And apparently determined that you would not miss him again. (Needless to say that the implications for me are as follows: each morning you will now either get up earlier than any respectable four year old should OR you will oversleep and start the day crying because you've missed the chance to wave goodbye.) BUT, I digress - this morning (SATURDAY) at 3:45, I heard "pat pat pat pat pat" down the hallway. Then I heard the door to the darkened great room open and a little voice call out "Papa?"

When there was no answer I heard the door to our bedroom ease open. You focused in on the sleeping form of your father, took comfort in the fact that he was still in bed and went "pat pat pat pat pat" back to your room. That was two hours ago. You are now asleep. Your father is now asleep. I AM AWAKE. VERY AWAKE. AND LIKELY TO STAY THIS WAY FOR QUITE SOME TIME. We may have a problem here...

Planning to get back in the saddle

I have to say it was nice to give myself a month off from the blog - although I love it here! I have now been officially sucked into the Facebook world (thanks to dear Molly who I had previously thought never used computers), and I feel a renewed interest in updating and maintaining an informative and entertaining presence on the internet, as if there's great demand for such a thing. So, I'm planning to post a concise summary of the last month in the form of a kind of jjjuggles Top Ten List of things of note from the last month and then hop back into regular posting. Check back in a day or two, and good luck to me as far as doing what I say I'm going to do. Here are a couple of pictures of the princesses or fairies or whatever you'd like to call them.

Roughing It

Last Friday night, we tucked Ellie into her bed and the three of us trekked out into the yard to go "camping" and christen our big Family Tent. It's nothing too special - a Coleman that I got on sale at Freddy's (although Jay had researched far finer gear...) From the moment she saw it, Mags wanted in. Knowing her many layers as we do, we wondered if the excitement would trump the fact that she is so uncomfortable with the "noises of the wild" that sometimes ring through the night out here that she must under any and all circumstances sleep with her bedroom windows closed and the blinds shut tightly. I am proud and relieved to announce that she ROCKED out there. We set up a bunch of blankets and comforters and pillows and let her sleep in the middle - so basically, it was like a free pass to spend the night in our bed, except we were not actually in our bed, but rather in the yard. She went to sleep almost instantly and slept like a cuddly little rock all night long. We've left the tent up since then, and every day she asks, "Can we sleep in the tent again TONIGHT???" We keep telling her "Friday", but we'll have to see... I'm just glad that she doesn't yet have a firm grasp on the intricacies of the calendar - because I don't think I slept for more than 20 minutes all together and I have no immediate desire to lose another 8 hours of quality time with the sandman. But, then again, it wasn't about ME, was it?

Potty Chairs and a Walk in the Park

Today I went to Lewisville Park with the girls, once I decided that we needed to escape the confines of the abode.

Not to get side-tracked, but speaking of abode, it rhymes with --- commode! Yesterday I got Ellie her own little potty seat (which ROCKS), since she has arrived at the age where she is obsessed with all things potty. She had found Mags’ old potty seat in the garage and had taken to pulling it out in the driveway and crying until someone pulled down her pants and allowed her to sit upon it au naturel. Problem with that was that we have been unable to find the little “bowl” – so basically, had she released the golden stream, she would have been peeing on the stones in the driveway – which, although it seems kind of old-world European, is really not the best overall solution – for our family anyway, not to judge anyone else who may really be into peeing outside. So, Ellie has a potty seat. Guess who is (was) DYING to use it? It’s not me or Jay. So, this morning while I was still allowing my first burst of caffeine to launch me into the day, I had one of my “Where is Maggie” moments. I found her in the bathroom draped in toilet paper, “wiping her butt.” Alas, no telltale crap was in the toilet, so I asked where said crap happened to be. She told me that she had left it in Ellie’s potty. And she was telling the truth. Anyway, I made her swear that she would not use the potty seat again – although I will give her a “pass” if Ellie is in the room at the time and Mags is willing to do a demo.

At the park, we played on the “merry-go-round” and the swings, and Mags wanted to go down the giant slide. This is not a slide built upon soft, shredded rubber from discarded tires, constructed of kid-friendly materials or surrounded by protective netting. This swing was undoubtedly put in place when the WPA carved out the rest of the park – when the West was wild, Sasquatch fished in the river and kids had hard heads. There are not “steps” – there are thin, rounded metal “rungs.” It sits upon hard-packed dirt that you could bounce basketballs upon. It is TALL. And my daughter wanted UP. And, up she went - with me behind her trying not to say the words “scared” or “careful” too much or too loudly, and wondering if she happened to misstep what the probability was that we would both plunge to the crusty earth below and break our backs. She said she wanted to go down “lots of times,” but I think I got her to stop at 4 because she had to pee. She also made me follow her down each time (since I had climbed up behind her every time anyway) and it was totally fun. Then, she wanted Ellie to have a turn – “Carry her up, Mama!” Well, no. But, Ellie did enjoy sliding down the 5 feet or however high I could lift her up from the ground at the side of the slide. And, when Ellie went down, Mags waited at the bottom to give her a sister kiss.

Following the playground, we went “bush-whacking” down below a foot bridge to play in a brook and continued on to a clearing at the river’s edge. It was there that Mags lost her little twig/”fishing pole” and I had to keep my terror down as I told her about what happens when things float down the river and how we have to just say good-bye and wish them well because we CANNOT go in after them, under ANY circumstances. When, in my mild panic, we hiked away from the rushing water, I took a different route than on the way out, leaving us farther down the rocky brook-bed than I would have liked. Mags was having a hard time, but was clearly into the adventure of it all. I was carrying Ellie, which made it hard to help Mags much. At one point, she stepped wrong in her big pink rainboots and fell on her knee. She pouted a bit, but once I congratulated her for being an “Explorer” like our spunky Latina cartoon friend, she pushed on. Near the end, I heard her say, “Come, Little Maggie. Walk on the rocks with me. You can do it – I know you can!” (Which sounds a whole lot like the mama duck in Little Quack, and if you are not familiar with that book, you should go to the bookstore soon.)