Spin Mama

Now that's a switch

2010-12-10T13:11:00.000-08:00

ellybean is not the least bit afraid of getting a lump of coal in her stocking from Santa. She wouldn't be offended, even if you told her that's what Santa gives the naughty kids. She would respond, "You're joking!"

Don't get me wrong, she believes wholeheartedly in Santa. She just thinks he gives a light switch to the kids on the naughty list. Really. And she won't be convinced otherwise. In fact, she is declaring that as gospel to her younger sister and any other kids who will listen.

Why a light switch? For the past two years or so, we've been reading Laura Ingalls Wilder books aloud to her (and Peanut just got to read her first as well). She loves Laura and Mary books (as she calls them), and we intersperse them with picture books. Being that those books are set in the mid-1800s, apparently the lore at that time was that if you were naughty, Santa would put a switch in your stocking. Like, the kind of switch you get a lickin' with -- but that part is just implied. (and she wouldn't know what a "lickin'" was anyway)

The reference to the switch in the stocking has shown up in two of the books, as I recall. Both of those books are probably three books ago in our reading. But Jellybean remembers it well -- well enough to reinterpret switch to mean light switch, even though such a thing didn't even exist at the time. What other kind of switch is there to a 5-year-old?

She was having a conversation with Peanut about Santa, and I heard her espousing this belief. I had to choke back my giggles, and at the same time, I was savoring her innocence.

Let this serve as a warning: If you wake up Christmas morning and have a light switch in your stocking, you'll know that something has gone terribly wrong.

What we're thankful for

2010-11-24T07:22:00.000-08:00

Both girls have had the chance to express their thankfulness through school activities this year. I have enjoyed finding out what they're thankful for, and I thought I'd share.

Peanut listed three things through her school activities. What are you thankful for?
1. My sister
2. My dad
3. My room

Jellybean had to list and draw 5 things she was thankful for.
1. Peanut
2. Rain
3. Nature
4. Flowers
5. Peanut
(Yes, the duplication was hers, not mine)

I can't get over how thankful they are for each other. That warms my heart! I will focus in on their thankfulness for each other so that we don't have to talk about how I was not mentioned by anyone. Actually, I'm not saddened by that -- I get hugs and smiles and "thank yous" every day (sometimes mixed in between tantrums and disobedience) that let me know how thankful they are for me.

Happy Thanksgiving!

All about loveys

2010-11-22T09:10:00.000-08:00

Both of my girls are good sleepers. And they have been since an early age. Part of that is their temperament -- they sleep when they need to. And, part of it I credit to my being borderline OCD about their sleep times and nap times, starting when they were babies.

Most parents whose kids sleep well have a favorite sleep book. Mine happens to be Good Night, Sleep Tight by the Sleep Lady, Kim West. The Sleep Lady advises giving babies a "lovey" starting when they are about 6 months old. Something that doesn't have any removable parts, that's nice and small, that children can snuggle and feel comfortable with, no matter where they are.

We gave both of the girls loveys around that time, and they still have them: Jellybean has Berkeley, her formerly white bear, and Peanut has Rodrigo, her penguin. I have restricted the loveys only to their beds, for fear of something happening to them otherwise. (We do not, as is recommended, have a duplicate for either one.)

The girls cannot go to sleep without their loveys. We take the loveys when we travel for overnight or a nap. Maybe 2 or 3 times they have conked out somewhere without Berkeley or Rodrigo, but night in and night out, they must have their lovey in hand in order to go to sleep. Certainly, it doesn't hurt anything. But now that they're 5 and 3 1/2, are they too old to rely on their loveys? Will there come a day that we should take them away? Or, "if it ain't broke, don't fix it?"

I love our loveys, but I want to make sure I'm not doing them a disservice. I don't want Peanut's college roommate to make fun of her because she can't sleep without her Rodrigo. I guess time will tell, and I hope it's all for the best.

Mondays are my new favorite day

2010-11-20T09:47:00.000-08:00

I knew I would enjoy volunteering in Jellybean's kindergarten class. A room full of 5-year-olds, with a savvy teacher in charge of them -- what's not to like?

I did not know, however, how much I would LOVE it: so much so that my favorite weekday has shifted from Friday to Monday (the day I volunteer). And Jellybean loves having me there.

My "shift" is officially about 20 minutes (although I've been there up to an hour, depending on the happenings of the day). I am there to help with literacy centers, which divide the children into small groups to accomplish a task about words: phonics, writing, spelling or reading. I serve as back-up question-answerer to the teacher, about the centers.

Now that I've been there several times, the kids are more and more comfortable to seek me out with their questions. I love being able to help them and seeing the "lightbulbs" go on when they figure out a word or make a connection.

When I arrive each week now, many of them will run up to me just to say "hello." Or they'll shout my name from their seat and wave. So cute. They all love the extra attention, and, sadly, some of them crave it more than others.

The best part, paradoxically, is when I leave. The class tells me "thank you" in unison, at the behest of the teacher. I help them get their jackets and hats on, because they're headed out to recess. Then, many of them on their own accord -- so many of them! -- come up to me to give me a HUG goodbye! Sometimes, there is even a LINE to give me a hug. It is the best!

They are the sweetest group of kids. I hope they all can keep at least some of the innocence for as long as possible. And if I can make their day brighter by giving them a big hug, then you bet I will. Sign me up! See why I love Mondays now?

Good "girl power" books

2010-11-16T09:23:00.000-08:00

As a mother of 2 daughters, I am always in favor of finding books that celebrate impressive women. I've stumbled upon a couple picture-book biographies in recent months that have particularly resonated with my girls -- and that I've enjoyed reading as well.

Georgia's Bones by Jen Bryant
A biography of Georgia O'Keefe. My parents went on a trip to New Mexico and came back with this book. It is a simply eloquent insight into the mind of a young artist. The lovely illustrations incorporate several of O'Keefe's (G-rated) works.

You Can't Do That, Amelia! by Kimberly Wagner Klier
A biography about Amelia Earhart. It's always fun to read about someone surpassing everyone's expectations. This book takes such a fun, great approach to Earhart's accomplishments -- and also stays away from the topic of the end of her life, as that may be difficult and confusing for young readers.

I highly recommend these for your next trip to the library or bookstore (or for the girls -- and boys -- on your holiday gift list!). They're well written, and I always appreciate a history lesson for myself.

A sentence!

2010-11-12T09:11:00.000-08:00

The milestones just keep on coming: Jellybean has written her first sentence!

She made it up and wrote it, all on her own at school. It accompanied this picture:

"THE HAOS IS RIANBO"
Translation: The house is rainbow.

She loves to color abstractly and has quite an eye for color and design (less of a knack for drawing practical things; I'm interested to see how that translates to her grown-up personality). I had no idea she could write a sentence. I just had to share.

Now saving almost $1/day

2010-11-08T11:45:00.000-08:00

We have reached a milestone with Jellybean. The best thing about reaching this milestone is the collaborative effort involved: from Jellybean, L and me. It was a long, long time coming, but I can say with confidence that we have arrived at mission accomplished.

Jellybean now stays dry all night. No Pull-Ups anymore (after all my trials and tribulations with them)! And we didn't lose too much sleep in the process.

Deciding to cross the dry-all-night line was not something we planned in advance. The project started spontaneously one night when L couldn't get Jellybean to put on her Pull-Up at bedtime. He announced to me, "She's going to try to stay dry tonight! Isn't that great?" Umm, no. And I had about 25 reasons why, including that I was tired that night; I didn't wanna be up in the middle of the night changing the bed. We were, though. Twice.

I was irritated with L. Jellybean is such a deep sleeper, and I didn't think she was anywhere close to being able to wake up when she had to pee. As you can see, I was just wrong.

We had several middle-of-the-night bed changes. But, for once, Jellybean was showing determination. She WANTED to be dry. So I went with it. And, to keep everything (and everyone) positive, I added an incentive: When she could stay dry 7 nights in a row, she would get a special prize. We had a few hiccups en route to 7 nights -- but not near as many as I expected. She finally did it! I was prepared for a relapse after that, but she said she's done with Pull-Ups.

Although 2 years younger, Peanut hasn't used Pull-Ups for about 6 months. I gave her a special prize when Jellybean got one.

So, I am very happy to say that we are a disposable-pants-free household for the first time in 5 years. Yeehaw!

P.S. You'll note by the photo that I caved once again to the "princessant" demands for Halloween.

Meltdowns and mood swings

2010-10-19T12:16:00.000-07:00

It has been a busy October, filled with many of the above -- mostly from my children, but a few from me too.

Peanut is stubborn and challenging, but usually we can predict the things she'll be stubborn about or challenge us on. A couple of weeks ago, though, Peanut incited a battle royale against me, the likes of which I've never seen from her. She wouldn't do what I said. Ever. She wouldn't stay in her bed or room at naptime or bedtime (this, from the kid who just hits the "easy" button when she wants to sleep). And she cried about practically everything.

I fought and muddled through all these battles -- sometimes even calling L during the day for moral support while I dealt with this Grumpus. Each time, I explained it away with, "Well, she went to bed a little late last night..." or some other reason.

Finally, one day, as I was hashing it out with her, I was thinking, "This is so far beyond normal for her. She's acting more like she doesn't feel good..." Wait! That had to be it. She didn't feel good. You know when you see your kid cross the line into an abyss of grumpy that rarely happens, and you suddenly have an impulse to feel his or her forehead? It was like that. Only her forehead was cool.

What could this invisible force be? She seems extra tired, her nose is a little runny. Aha, allergies. One Children's Claritin that night before bed, and what a difference a day (and a drug) makes! I am so glad to have my sweetly stubborn little Peanut back.

Olive you

2010-09-29T09:51:00.000-07:00

I do not like olives. Black, green, minced, whole -- they are the pits, as far as I am concerned. My kids, on the other hand, love them. They will eat even the most exotic of olives, popping them into their mouths with abandon (and, of course, spitting the pits). A bit of an odd choice for 3- and 5-year-olds, to be sure.

I see this as a blessing and a curse. A blessing, because now if we go out to eat, and my salad has olives in it, I have willing recipients. A curse, for a few reasons: 1. Fattening, 2. Expensive, and 3. Pizza. Yes, pizza. The only kind of pizza they want is olive. Not even pepperoni!

I can usually convince them to do the half and half pizza order, which works until we get to leftovers. The kids eat less pizza, so the leftovers are always olive. That means I don't want any. And I love leftover pizza, reheated on my pizza stone in the oven. But leftover olive pizza, blech.

I need to convince myself that this has health benefits for me. If I eat less pizza due to lack of leftovers, I will substitute healthier fare and be the better for it. That's my Spin Mama take for myself. So, thanks girls! (I think)

I love knock-knock jokes, the explanation for my heading:
Knock, knock
Who's there?
Olive
Olive who?
Olive YOU!

I can't find my Rodrigo

2010-09-25T09:00:00.000-07:00

As I've mentioned, my kids are short on sleep since school started. Now I am too. I can count on one hand the number of times I've slept through the night in the past 3 weeks. It's killing me! If I wanted to do this, I'd be having another kid (which I'm not, just to be clear).

What is waking me up at night? A stuffed penguin. Not just any stuffed penguin -- Peanut's lovey, Rodrigo. How could a stuffed penguin wake me up? He keeps hiding. Or running away. Practically every night, in the depths of the night, 3:30 a.m. or 4:30 a.m., I awake to the following being shouted: "I can't find my Rodrigo!" On repeat until I stumble up the stairs to her room. Rodrigo is usually wrapped up in the covers and occasionally on the floor. I head back down to my room, sometimes taking 15 minutes (grrr) to fall back asleep.

Yes, in this house, L's and my room is a floor below the girls. Not a problem, really, because they're not babies anymore, so they shouldn't be WAKING UP IN THE NIGHT. Except they are. Well, she is. Can you tell I'm tired?

Finally yesterday, we told Peanut that if she loses Rodrigo, she can just get up and turn on the light to find him. Then turn it back off and go back to sleep; no need to call for us. Last night? Silence. Maybe a coincidence, we shall see.

Although I have not been amused by her middle-of-the-night antics, I am amused by her naptime activities of late. She's been talkative and active in her room, but she has managed to nap more often than not. The other day she was so loud for about 45 minutes, then quiet. I brought my camera with me when I went to wake her to go get Jellybean at school, and this is what I found:

So overcome with the need to sleep, crawling those 3 feet to the bed just wasn't an option. Wait, I think I can relate.

Grinning and (hopefully) bearing it

2010-09-21T11:26:00.000-07:00

A few months ago, in the chaos of our move, Peanut suffered a bit of an injury: She did a face-plant on our hardwood kitchen floor. Of course, both L and I were out of the room at the moment of impact. L arrived to find Peanut writhing on her back in the midst of the "stop-breathing" cry of terrible pain. We still don't know if Peanut just tripped or if Jellybean, ahem, assisted her in this fall.

At any rate, she bled a ton from her mouth, and we had her checked out by the doctor (we were actually moving the very next day). She split her frenulum -- a word I know thanks to the Barenaked Ladies kids album. Other than that, she seemed all right.

A couple weeks later, one of her front teeth noticeably changed colors, to a light purplish shade. Before I let myself totally freak out, I did what any good mother does: I Googled it. I learned that changing colors is a normal healing process for tooth trauma and that you should only worry if the child is complaining that it hurts, as it could be infected.

We took her to a pediatric dentist as soon as we were settled, and she confirmed my Googling (love that!) and took an x-ray. At the time, she said the tooth could go either way. It was either going to completely heal itself, or it was going to develop an infection and require anything from a root canal (egad) to removal so it doesn't damage the permanent tooth. We have monitored it closely since then, and other than a repeat face plant that about drove me to drink, it hasn't changed or bothered her.

Why am I recounting this story now? Peanut has a dentist appointment this week, for a cleaning and follow-up x-ray. We will have a verdict this week: Either the tooth is healed, or something drastic will have to happen. I have a good feeling that everything is okay. Oh please, oh please, oh please. I'll keep you updated.

Soccer mom

2010-09-15T09:28:00.000-07:00

On a recent episode of Project Runway, Tim Gunn described a designer's look as being perfect for a soccer mom -- and he didn't mean it as a compliment. I was in the midst of turning my nose up at the design when I did a forehead slap. I resemble that remark: I am now a soccer mom. Does that mean I should dress worse now?

But, I digress. This self-identification was yet another milestone I've attained this school year. And for Jellybean, soccer has been a long-time dream. She has wanted to play soccer ever since we happened upon a soccer practice near a playground when she was 3.

I remember so clearly that evening two years ago, how I could hear the gears turning in her head while she watched the 7-year-old girls practice soccer. She was in awe of them. They may as well have been Mia Hamm and Brandi Chastain of the championship Women's World Cup soccer team!

So, now she has her chance to play. She is on an under-6 co-ed team, and she loves every second of practice and games. And, Tim Gunn would be happy to know that as much as the sport, she loves the "fashion" choices involved. Her purple soccer socks are one of her most-prized items in her wardrobe. Go, Jellybean! (And I promise not to dress like the dowdy soccer mom of Tim Gunn's imagination)

More abc's than zzzz's

2010-09-09T08:55:00.000-07:00

It's almost like having an infant again. That is how much Jellybean's kindergarten has affected the entire family's schedule. We are trying to get both kids enough sleep, and now, after 3 weeks, we may have finally found the schedule that involves the least amount of tears. From all of us. In the interim, there have been more complete & total meltdowns from each child in 3 weeks than there were in at least the previous 6 months.

Our evenings mirror the schedule we had when Jellybean was a baby. We have shifted our dinner time about an hour earlier, and both girls are in bed asleep no later than 7:30. And sometimes even 7. Oh, and I almost forgot to mention: The whining and crankiness (and fighting with your sister) commence about 4:30 each afternoon.

For now, weekday evening activities are not even an option. From 4:30 on, it is all I can do to play referee between the girls so that they survive until dinner time. And after dinner, L and I shepherd the girls' every move and keep a constant eye on the clock so we don't overshoot the all-important early bed time. A few times, either Peanut or Jellybean has even announced that she is going to bed and started climbing the steps to her room! L and I scrambled to attention accordingly.

Shouldn't it just be Jellybean who is cranky and tired? Well, yes and no. Jellybean is the one at school all day. But the end-of-school pick-up interferes with Peanut's nap time, so she is now getting 45 minutes to an hour less sleep during the day than usual (and I have to wake her from a deep sleep to go get Jellybean). So, she is thrown off too, and hence the need for an across-the-board schedule change. I have tried but cannot get her to start her nap any earlier, so she's stuck getting gypped.

I have no idea how long it will take Jellybean to acclimate to being at school 7 hours a day. At some point this school year (hopefully), I'll look back in this tiring time and reflect about the tailspin our lives are in. But right now, I'm just trying to minimize tantrums and get everyone some sleep. Including me.

One-on-one time

2010-09-02T09:02:00.000-07:00

Because Jellybean is at school all day long, Peanut and I have every weekday to ourselves now. I really thought Peanut would miss Jellybean terribly during the day and that Jellybean wouldn't want as much to do with Peanut anymore. It has turned out to be just the opposite.

Peanut seems to relish in Jellybean being gone: all the toys to herself, no one (besides Mama) telling her what to do, uncorrupted imagination scenarios. When we get home from taking Jellybean to school, Peanut dives right into the toys and starts talking to herself and pretending. She doesn't even want me to play with her (I've gone from the entertainment hub of both girls to a complete wallflower in less than a month). She likes to draw a picture for Jellybean each day, but other than that, we hardly mention the kindergartener.

Jellybean, on the other hand, throws her arms around Peanut when we pick her up at school. She asks for Peanut to kiss her hand each morning (from the book The Kissing Hand) when we drop her off. Jellybean always says she's too busy to miss Peanut, but she's certainly glad to see her when school is out.

Peanut and I have two school years to hang out before she goes to kindergarten (let us not speak of that again). I had almost two years with Jellybean before Peanut was born. So, this is our time to spend together, and I love being able to learn more about her each day. I am definitely reaping the rewards of their age difference.

The many benefits of having a kid in school

2010-08-27T09:21:00.000-07:00

Jellybean loves school. Even on the mornings after she went to bed kinda late (oops, L and I need to get better at this new routine), she pops out of bed and gets dressed, talking about how excited she is to go to kindergarten.

I knew that once I got over my emotions -- can I mention that any more?! -- I'd enjoy seeing her transform into a school kid and all the changes that come with that. New friends, newfound abilities, more independence -- all of those are already evident.

We live pretty close to her school, so we walk there and back every day, about 10-15 minutes each way. Those walks have been a great time to talk about all her new experiences. And, because I walk both ways of those walks twice a day those walks hold something else for me: more exercise!

I didn't even realize it until after the first couple days, how much activity those walks are adding to MY day. Now, no matter how much working out I do, in the name of school transportation, I will be adding a minimum of 40 minutes of walking to my daily routine. And, because at 3 she is too little for fitness walks, I am also pushing Peanut in the Burley stroller the whole time (and Jellybean when she wants in). Have I mentioned we also live up a steep hill?

So, let's do the math. 40 minutes of brisk walking x pushing 35-85 lbs. + 2 steep hill climbs =
1 Mama who likes how this school year is shaping up!

P.S. Yes, I realize that's L in the picture. I'm always behind the camera. And, do you like our retro Burley?

Janis Joplin

2010-08-22T08:55:00.000-07:00

Jellybean (and by extension of Jellybean, Peanut too) loves Janis Joplin music. She cannot get enough of Janis. I even downloaded more Janis so she could listen. In hindsight, perhaps "Mercedes Benz" was not the best choice, but it's too late now.

If a song comes on, Jellybean will stop what she's doing and walk near the stereo -- not as old-fashioned as it sounds, the iPod runs the show -- so she can hear the words and belt it out. Of course, she never does a command performance, especially for the camera, but I tried once and got this:

I haven't had the heart to tell her yet that Janis Joplin is no longer alive. I think she would be very sad.

On the rind

2010-08-17T09:00:00.000-07:00

I have prepared and fed my kids 1,327,965 snacks as a stay-at-home mom. Morning and afternoon, every solid-food-eating day of their lives. Fruit is my first choice, but sometimes the options just get tired, and the kids are less-than-enthused about eating snacks (then crankiness ensues from all involved). With budget and time constraints, I can only be so creative with snacks.

Sometimes I have to "sell" the snacks to them in Spin Mama fashion -- "We got these from the farmers, who grew them just for us" -- and I try to keep it interesting, by having snack outside or at the park.

I had a brainstorm one day that has definitely made snack time a win-win for the kids and me. I didn't want to cut up a whole cantaloupe and cube it into bite-size morsels (laziness prevails!) , so I made a big deal one day that our cantaloupe was "on the rind." I piled a bunch of slices on big plate and let them help themselves. You would have thought I had given them candy! They loved it. And they ate half a cantaloupe between them at one sitting.

I've done the same with watermelon, although that is almost exclusively and outside snack -- sticky pink goo everywhere, anyone?

And now that I'm picking Jellybean up at school each afternoon, and she's so, so hungry, "on the rind" is totally the portable way to go. You can walk and chew cantaloupe at the same time.

I am now the parent of a school-age child

2010-08-13T12:01:00.001-07:00

Kindergarten has started for Jellybean (I know, already -- doesn't it seem way early?)! And so far, we all have survived.

Some of my anxiety subsided before the first day, mostly because of visiting her classroom and meeting her teacher, and knowing how that helped make her more comfortable. But the mom hormones must have been gushing through my veins, because I was weepy and emotional for like 3 days before (not in front of her, thankfully). I wasn't quite prepared for that part of it.

I don't think her first day of school could have gone any better. She strode into her classroom confident and excited, and she was glad to be there. When I picked her up at the end of the day, she came running toward us, arms open wide to give a hug...to Peanut. It really was sweet -- and sad -- how much they had missed each other all day.

We walked back home, and when we got into the driveway, Jellybean said, unsolicited, "Well, that was a lot of fun, guys. Thank you for picking me up. I had the perfect day at kindergarten!" My just-turned-5-year-old got replaced by a 10-year-old in one day!

I opened her lunchbox when we got inside, and she still had about half her lunch -- half a sandwich, half her apple, half her vegetables. Apparently they only have 20 minutes (!) for lunch. So, she sat down at the table and polished off the entire remains of her lunch right then and there, in addition to the snack we'd had on the way home.

Onward and upward, to the second day of school and beyond. And to think, I thought the baby phase was going to last forever...

Arachnophobia

2010-08-10T09:15:00.000-07:00

The only reason I know the term for "fear of spiders" at top of mind is because of the movie that came out like 9 million years ago, "Arachnophobia." And now, to think, that term definitely applies to a member of my household.

I don't love spiders, but I wouldn't consider myself arachnophobic -- killing-bugs-o-phobic captures it a little better for me. If I see a spider, I move along my merry way, reminding myself that she's probably eating and killing the rest of the creepy-crawly things for me, so in that sense, we're friends. If I could just get her outta my way without touching her...

The other day, the girls and I were at my parents' house. They both went into the bathroom to do their business and wash their hands, when suddenly Peanut erupted with what sounded like a blood-gushing shriek and launched immediately into the stop-breathing cry that occurs with the worst of injuries. I sprinted to the bathroom and found Jellybean speechless and looking a bit dumbfounded while Peanut continued to gasp for her breath between sobs. There was no blood or missing teeth, so I implored Peanut to tell me what was the matter. She struggled to get one syllable out between each sob, so that when she pointed and I followed her finger and deciphered "spi....." SOB "...der," I figured it out. There was a spider sitting on the edge of the bathtub. And she wasn't hurt, she was just...arachnophobic. Wow. To be fair, it was a pretty big spider, and it caught her off guard. So I acknowledged her fear and we moved on (when I got my mom to remove the spider, natch).

Until a couple days ago. I sent Peanut up to her room to get a book for us to read. She was singing to herself, climbing the steps in her little 3-year-old world, when suddenly I heard that blood-gushing shriek and crying. I rushed up the stairs, afraid she had fallen on them. Instead, I found her pointing to a spider dangling from the handrail. Definitely arachnophobic. Not just a one-time deal. Never would've seen that one coming from Peanut.

Swimming update

2010-08-05T09:15:00.000-07:00

Swim lessons have ended. Sigh, yet another sign that my favorite season is starting to wrap up. In case you were on the edge of your seat wondering how Jellybean and Peanut did in their second session of lessons, here's the update:

Peanut now goes under water! Not just her face in the water, but a full-on dunk down to the top of her head. The first time she did it, I feared she was drowning -- until she emerged with a big grin on her face. She still doesn't like to try to float on her stomach with her face in. But, her kicking is getting better and better, and she started backstroking with her arms on her own. I'm thrilled how far she has come.

Jellybean chose the very last lesson to decide to float. And she only did it once. I was happy with the number of lessons we had, until she had to go and do a new thing at the very end of the last lesson! Just one more lesson with a couple more floats, and she'd forget that she used to not be able to do that. I doubt she'll do it for L or me, but we'll keep trying when we go to the pool. The best thing from this session was the other little boy in her group. He kicked like the dickens, could get himself into a floating position, and was just the perfect example of confidence with skills in the water. Oh, I hope she remembers him!

All in all, I am nothing short of amazed that they went from afraid of water being above their necks to taking turns dunking their entire heads in the bath tub. Yea, summer!

OMG, kindergarten

2010-08-01T09:22:00.000-07:00

Denial can be a happy place, really it can. I have been very happy this summer, doing all the summer things with the kids and enjoying our family being nearby. Happy, happy in denial-land, ignoring what is so rapidly approaching: the school year. Because, this year, the school year means something big for my little Jellybean. She's going to be in kindergarten.

There, I said it. I'm starting to emerge from that happy place called denial. Kindergarten is really going to happen. I have the school registration form and the school supplies to prove it. It's going to happen -- the question is, how? How is my little Jellybean going to go to that big school with all those kids for ALL-DAY kindergarten? She's so little and so innocent and still takes a nap a couple times a week, for heaven's sakes! Every time I think about it, I imagine Jellybean being so sweet and good at school, diligently listening to her teacher -- and then coming home at the end of the day and instantly transforming into a hungry, tired MONSTER. Even my daydreams can't conjure a different scenario.

And that's how she's going to be. What about me?! All these years of us hanging out together -- even when she was in preschool, we still had lunch together every day. A part of me is so thrilled she gets to go to such a wonderful school with all these great teachers and people. But the rest of me is just torn apart at the prospect.

I know so many moms who have sent their first kid to kindergarten in the past couple years. They've all told me all about it, given me advice to prepare me for when my own kid did the same. But, denial. I was still living so happily in denial. And now I no longer reside in denial. So, please, help me figure out how we're going to survive this transition.

Millions of peaches, peaches for free

2010-07-29T13:50:00.000-07:00

Does anyone else remember that song? Or maybe I'm the only one who sings it every summer in July when I have peach juice running down my chin.

Our new house has a peach tree. L picked one a day for about a week to taste, "for science," he said. He decided last weekend they were ripe, so we picked them! The picture doesn't do justice to how many there are. They're little, but they are yummy. And free, did I mention free? Well, free with this little thing we call a mortgage.

My freezer is full of peeled, sliced peaches. I'll be accepting your best peach-thing recipes anytime!

Swimming with pride

2010-07-26T09:48:00.000-07:00

I signed both girls up for swim lessons this summer for the first time. I wanted them to learn to swim without having me in the water, because I thought they might do better if it wasn't Mama telling them what to do. Turns out, I was probably correct in that assumption.

What I didn't factor in with the lessons was how quickly they would make progress -- and how freakin' exciting it is when they do! I have never felt so proud as I have behind the glass walls (we went to an indoor pool so as to avoid the bad weather factor), watching them do things for their teachers they would never do for L and me. I've practically jumped up and down a few times.

When we started lessons, they liked to be in the water, but only from the neck down. Two days into lessons, Jellybean was voluntarily dunking herself and has announced that she loves going under water now. And little Peanut, who I thought may be a tad too young to really do anything, actually floated on her back by herself -- a skill that is 2 levels beyond where she is! (Mind you, she's still working on putting her face in the water. And Jellybean wants nothing to do with floating.)

It went so well, and I've been so thrilled with their progress, I've signed them up for another session. I can't wait to see what they'll do next!

7 colors a week

2010-07-22T08:37:00.000-07:00

Peanut can tell you what color every day of the week is. Monday is green, Tuesday is blue, Sunday is her favorite color, orange. Each day has a different color.

No, she's not reading auras or anything supernatural. She's talking about her underwear. Once she was potty-trained a few months ago, I took her shopping to choose her own undies. Much to my disappointment at the time, she chose the day-of-the-week undies; each pair has a different day of the week printed on it. My first thought was, "Great, now this falls on ME to get the right pair on her each day." It's hard enough for me to remember what day it is. Now I have to coordinate undies too?! Then I remembered she can't read. Perfect.

It turns out I'm too anal retentive (love that potty-training double entendre) to ignore the writing on the undies. So, I made sure she had the right undies on the right days from the get-go. And Peanut still loves it. Before she had the colors memorized, she would ask at bedtime, "What color is tomorrow?" When you're 3, it's important to know the color of your undies at all times.

So, in the words of Peanut, "What color is today?"

This number has changed

2010-07-19T09:55:00.000-07:00

Both girls have celebrated birthdays during my time off from blogging -- birthday parties were yet another thing in the mix of all of our major life changes. Peanut, turning 3, had a musical party that involved drumming, guitar playing and even a duet with her sister. Her party happened before we left Michigan, so it was a nice way to say "goodbye" to our friends there.

Jellybean's 5th birthday was after we moved, so she benefited from all the extra grandparent attention at her birthday. Extra presents, treats and attention helped distract her from missing all her good buddies in Michigan.

Peanut had a great time at her party, but as much as anything, she was thrilled to be "changing numbers" from 2 to 3. Her party was before her actual birthday, but she announced that she was 3, and she could hardly wait for Jellybean's party so that Jellybean could change numbers too.

I've decided I quite like this euphemism for getting a year older. Changing my number. Sounds like I'm in charge of the whole process. And it has an air of diplomacy, like the difference between "global warming" and "climate change." I am changing my number this week, and darned if my 3-year-old hasn't given me the words to ease the sting of adding a year to my age.

Resurfacing

2010-07-15T07:47:00.000-07:00

Whenever I'm trying to make a point about something, whether to L or my kids or even my friends, I like to follow L's rule requiring three reasons behind any argument. You can't just say something is true -- you have to list 3 justifications that it is true.

It just so happens that I have three definitions for the title of this post.

1. Resurfacing: returning from the depths of the unknown. I haven't written for months and months. The past month, I really regret, because it was a bit of blogaphobia on my part, but mostly just a lack of time to sit with the computer in peace. The previous few months were full of big life changes: putting our house on the market, planning a move to another state, looking for a new home and moving. Lucky, lucky us, even in a dismal Michigan real estate market, we sold our house on Craigslist (yes, really) in less than three weeks. But the latter three life changes all ended up being more complicated than they needed to be, for reasons not worth boring you with. Which brings me to...

2. Resurfacing: changing the composition of the top layer(s) of an existing surface. We have done a great deal of this type of resurfacing to our new home. We started with pulling up all the carpet on the steps and second floor of our home and having the original (1910) hardwood floors finished for the first time. Then, we -- mostly L, with help from a contractor for the complicated stuff -- repainted almost every interior surface, wall and ceiling, in the house. Other projects too, but you get the idea. It's all behind us, and now we're ready for what lies ahead...

3. Resurfacing: removing layers and replacing them with completely new contents. For the first time since Jellybean was 1 (and now she's 5! Another post for another day), we live close to our families. We loved Michigan and had wonderful friends and neighbors there, but there is nothing quite like living near family, especially when that family includes my children's grandparents. It has been a happy time, reuniting on a regular basis and knowing this is how our lives will be. There's no place like home.

Mama's pillow

2010-02-15T12:25:00.000-08:00

The girls and I have been fighting some ugly upper- and lower-respiratory crud for the past few weeks. I've felt worse for them than for me, because now you're not supposed to give little kids any kind of cold or cough medicine. At least I could medicate and feel a tad better. But what to do for them?

A spur-of-the-moment, middle-of-the-night fix I tried for Jellybean when she was about 18 months old has now become a sick-person ritual for us: Mama's pillow. If they're stuffed up and/or coughing, I prop my extra pillow behind their pillow so they can be elevated while they sleep. It has also turned into a comfort measure, with the girls saying that they feel better when my pillow is in their bed.

All right, so it's not the same as Ny-Quil, but it does help. And now I know when they're not feeling well, "Can I have Mama's pillow tonight to help me sleep?"

Beep-beep toilet time

2010-02-11T12:00:00.000-08:00

We knew for months that we needed to potty train Peanut. She was interested and probably ready, but with a long road trip and all the chaos of the holidays, we decided to wait until January. And even then, there were a few days that I was wondering if it was ever going to happen.

Peanut has an independent streak that is a bit fiercer and edgier than Jellybean will ever likely muster. Everything has to be HER idea, and it should be done HER way. Not much different than many 2-year-olds, but with Peanut, there is no give.

The first couple days we were focusing on potty training, she just wasn't getting it. We used cotton training pants just like we did with Jellybean. Being wet didn't bother her in the least. I took the same approach we did with Jellybean: setting a timer every 30 minutes, which meant it was "toilet time." We managed to get the #2 in the toilet every time (mostly luck and persistence on our part), but the #1 was not happening. She didn't really cop an attitude, just demonstrated with her behavior that it wasn't going to be easy. But I wasn't going back. This was going to happen.

Sure enough, just like in her book, she woke up one day and stayed dry all day. Then the next day. And then the next day. And that was it. She heard that timer, announced, "Beep-beep toilet time!" and went running to the bathroom. It was HER idea now, and she was going to do it right. So right, in fact, that 2 weeks into it, she was staying dry every night and nap (good thing I bought about a million Pull-Ups, whoops!).

So, we are done with diapers! And, as soon as Jellybean can stay dry at night, we'll be done with Pull-Ups too. I continue to marvel at how this whole growing-up thing works.

What's your schedule?

2010-01-17T10:54:00.000-08:00

When organizing our bookshelves the other day, I came across some old schedules and routines for the girls that I had typed up for babysitters. They involved a lot of diapers and bottles and tons of minute detail about how things should be done so as to maintain the status quo.

Now that the girls are getting older, the daily schedule and routines are much simpler. It got me wondering (as I often do) what other kids' -- and hence parents' -- schedules are like. Here's our current schedule. What is yours like?

7:30-7:45 a.m. Wake up
8 a.m. Breakfast
10 a.m. Morning snack
Noon Lunch
1 p.m. Peanut nap begins
1:45 Jellybean nap/quiet time begins
3:30ish Naps and quiet times done
3:45 Afternoon snack
5:30-6 Dinner
8 p.m. Get ready for bed, read a story
8:15-8:30 Bedtime

The inevitable conversation about death

2010-01-13T10:39:00.000-08:00

The complicated, deep, involved conversations always happen when you least expect them. We were having lunch, bantering, our usual, when Jellybean started the following conversation. Luckily, I kept my composure, held back my tears and somehow, some way was able to hang with her. (Names are changed to protect the innocent)

Jellybean: Who are Grandma Kelly's parents?

Me: Her parents are my Grandma and Grandpa O'Neal.

J: Where are they?

Me: They died before you were born.

J: Was Grandma sad?

Me: Yes, very sad.

J: Does she miss them?

Me: Yes, and so do I.

J: Is she looking for new parents?

Me: No, you only have two parents, so those were her only parents. They would have LOVED you and been so proud of you. I know that for sure.

J: Who are Grandpa Dan's parents?

Me: My Grandma and Grandpa Brown.

J: Did they die too?

Me: Yes, they died before you were born.

J: Was Grandpa sad?

Me: Yes, he was very sad.

J: Does he get to have new parents?

Me: No, no one gets to have new parents. Grandma and Grandpa's parents were MY grandparents, and I got to go to their houses and play with them and have lots of fun like you do with your grandparents.

J: Do you miss them?

Me: So much, I think about them all the time.

J: Why did they have to die? Are you going to die?

Me: Yes, everyone dies eventually, even you will. But not for a really long time. Can you count to 100?

J: No!

Me: Well, that's how many years you get to live, or more.

When she asked if I was going to die, I just couldn't lie to her. I made a split-second decision that the truth was the way to go. What do you think about that? What would you have said?

Taking it to the next level

2010-01-10T10:22:00.000-08:00

The girls are now 2 1/2 and 4 1/2, and while this may seem obvious to you, I hadn't really grasped what their ages signify for us until very recently. Because I've been operating in my typical parent-blind-to-the-obvious mode, I have just now realized: Our kids aren't little anymore.

I know, they are still young kids, but they're changing so quickly right now. They're both in preschool and becoming increasingly independent at home and away from home. Hallelujah! I thought this day would never come -- so much so, that it took me by surprise on New Year's weekend when we visited some friends out-of-state.

Our friends' kids are 6 and 3, ideal playmate age. We were looking forward to all being together for the weekend and giving the kids a chance to run around and have fun. The kids had a fantastic time together. At least, I assume they did, because I hardly saw the girls the entire time we were there. All four kids played together, initiated games, and just generally had fun. This was totally new to me: My kids know how to play together and with others, without the involvement of adults!

When Jellybean was born, I felt like I was going to be the mother of an infant forever. It's difficult to fathom what lies ahead and how quickly it comes (especially when you're sleep-deprived). She was still pretty little when Peanut was born, so I didn't feel like I "graduated" to the next level since I had a new infant to care for.

But now that there are no more babies coming, I get to reap the rewards of moving on up the proverbial parenting ladder. I love having two preschoolers, and I'm savoring it. I'm also learning how to anticipate the next phase and its rewards. Next stop, later this year: entering "real" school.

Holiday wrap-up

2010-01-05T10:51:00.000-08:00

The holidays came and went more quickly than I ever remember them doing. It's cliche to say that I had a lot to do and was running around like a mad person -- but I was. Here are a few of the things that kept me occupied.

We did 4 separate Christmases this year. Yes, four. I mean, who does that? More than ever, I am hell-bent on reconciling the family Christmas dispute that continues between some members of L's and my family. Either that, or I will go on a solo island retreat while everyone else "celebrates" four Christmases in one week. Actually, that's sounding better by the minute.

L and I didn't get presents for each other again this year. We like the tradition we started last year of shopping for people who really need it. It can be a major project (read: going to three different toy stores looking for the exact toy the 3-year-old boy asked for), but I much prefer it to exchanging boring old stuff between us.

One thing of note about shopping for those less fortunate: Each person we shopped for asked for socks. They could ask for anything in the world, and they wanted socks. I now think of them every time I put socks on my feet.

Speaking of asking for anything in the world, the girls' requests for Santa were kind of head-scratchers, but I have to give them points for practicality. Jellybean asked for a purple suitcase. Peanut asked for a "dark orange cup" and a candy cane. All the toys the elves make all year long, and it came down to a suitcase and a cup. Santa did a great job choosing which suitcase and which cup to give them -- and they're both thrilled.

Putting that all behind me (well, except the sock thing, and maybe the family Christmas thing...), I'm ready for 2010. Whatever it has in store, bring it on!

The first no "L"

2009-12-14T12:46:00.000-08:00

One of our most treasured Christmas decorations is a set of angels that used to belong to L's grandmother. She had many grandchildren (26, to be exact), so to have anything of hers is an honor, and especially these angels, which were a favorite of L's dad as a child.

There are four angels, and they each hold a letter of NOEL. However, when they came to us, the angel from the "L" was missing, and we did the best we could to display it, but most of the time it ended up looking like there was no "L" in "Noel." Really, I can't make this up.

Each year, as we unpacked our Christmas decorations, I was a little sad that we didn't have an angel for our "L." But, what we did have was the original packaging. So finally, last year, I made it my mission to locate L's angel (bet you didn't think I had another pun, did you?).

I scoured eBay and Craigslist and the rest of the Internet. I found quite a few sets of these angels, despite their age (60+ years), which was remarkable. But I kept getting in touch with people too late or losing auction bids. Finally, I found someone who only had an "E" and an "L." Sold! (Come "L" or high water.)

You'll see in the picture that our "L" is a bit smaller than the others, but he still matches perfectly. A major upgrade from the previous version nonetheless.

You'll also see in the picture that the tradition with the angels is to display them a bit nontraditionally.

Hats off to the holidays

2009-12-08T12:02:00.000-08:00

Some holiday traditions are passed on from generations and practiced so long that you don't know where they came from. Like, going to church, or when to open presents, or putting up certain decorations.
Other traditions just kind of happen. And you don't know how long they will last. Like our reindeer hat, which is now in its 4th year.

L's dad showed up with this hat at Christmas when Jellybean was 1. I was thinking it was nice for her to have a warm hat, but it seemed frivolous to have one that can only appropriately be worn for one month a year. Turns out, I was very short-sighted.
This hat, which Jellybean and Peanut can both wear and share, has been so much fun for us. It has been a conversation starter so many times over when we're out and about -- and it's brought smiles to so many faces. I mean, who can resist a little person sporting Rudolph on her head?

We will keep wearing the Rudolph hat for as long as it stays intact. A hat to wear once a year? Totally worth it.

What's for dinner (in 20 minutes)?

2009-12-03T10:55:00.000-08:00

Do you feel like you have the same 7 dinners in rotation every week -- like same stuff, different day? It's so easy to get in a rut of fixing the go-to, popular meals day in and day out. I'm hoping by sharing a couple of our favorites, maybe you can share your family's easy favorites, and then we can all shake up our routine a bit.

We are working very hard to make home-cooked dinners our priority. For the past 6 months or so, between our farm share and other meal planning, we have averaged almost six nights per week of eating at home. We've managed to create a rotation that includes many low-prep dinners and some decent nutrition. We always serve a vegetable, and we have a priority on whole grains -- sometimes difficult when we want to eat quickly and not spend all evening in the kitchen.

A while back, I wrote about some recipes that I love. I am not a gourmet chef, but I can follow a recipe. I'm also not terribly creative in generating new and exciting dinner ideas. Bear that in mind when you read our most popular meals -- for the kids AND adults in our house -- below.

1. Tacos. I have this one down to a quick science: brown the meat, heat some shells, and warm up refried beans. I have struggled to come up with the right vegetable to complement tacos. Nothing with much nutrition seems to mix well (read: lettuce on the taco doesn't count as veg!). But last week, it hit me: Sauteed bell peppers and onions.

2. Omelettes. Now that eggs are good for us again, according to the nutrition experts, I have no qualms about dishing up breakfast for dinner. They are quick to prepare, and often we can incorporate leftover vegetables as part of the omelette. And the girls shovel omelettes in like they're going out of style (but they're not). Toast on the side, and we're done.

3. Picnic dinner (veg and protein components pictured). I'm not talking about eating outside on a blanket. Instead, bring the picnic foods inside and put them on the kitchen table. This one was inspired by L's famous "snacky-snack" appetizer trays that he prepares for special occasions. Slice up cheese, salami, all the raw veg and fruit you can find, and put it on big plates. Add in whole grain crackers and/or whole grain bread. Everyone serves themselves. L and I agree that the girls probably eat more fruit and vegetables at this meal, wherein they select their food themselves, than at meals where we prepare their plates. The first time we served this, Jellybean exclaimed, "It's a picnic dinner!"

So, I showed you mine. Now you show me yours: What are your family's favorite quick dinners?

Thanksgiving and wine

2009-11-22T11:51:00.000-08:00

In case you've been under a rock, it's that time of year where we all get to heap our plates full of food and glug down a couple glasses of wine. For some people, I guess that could be every day, but for me, it's Thanksgiving!

I have many, many things to be thankful for every day of the year. Maybe some day I'll make a list worthy of sharing. But in the meantime, we're doing our usual hosting duties for Thanksgiving, so I have some cooking to do.

I will be doing my "no-fail" turkey again this year, as well as baking a couple of pies with my vodka crust recipe. I will also be wine shopping. Although I couldn't drink for many of the previous Thanksgivings we hosted (I was pregnant or nursing for 4 years straight), I was still the unofficial sommelier. I have a few favorites that pair well with turkey and the flavors of the season.

Whites:
Chateau Grand Traverse Riesling -- I try to drink Michigan wines but don't always love them. This one, on the other hand, is one of the best pairings with turkey I have ever had. Slightly sweet contrasted with the sage and herbiness, mmmm.

Covey Run Riesling -- If you can't get the Michigan riesling, this is the next best. Again, the slight sweetness greets the Thanksgiving table flavors wonderfully.

Big House White -- I didn't feel like I could have an all-riesling list because it might turn some people off. This wine, Thanksgiving or not, is my favorite white wine I've had in a long time. Beware, it's dangerous. The first time L and I tried it, we drank the whole bottle in a sitting! That never happens, so that's saying something. A steal with mass appeal.

Reds:

Echelon Pinot Noir -- Appeals to all wine drinkers, from serious sommelier wannabes to occasional wine drinkers. Smooth with nice flavor, accommodates Thanksgiving flavors perfectly.

Beaujolais Nouveau -- Not always a great pairing with Thanksgiving (the earthy French flavors tend to be subtle), even though the timing of the varietal's release coincides. I haven't tried this year's yet, but I have read that the French are particularly pleased with this year's harvest. Might be worth uncorking.

Really, you won't go wrong with any pinot noir at the Thanksgiving table. Many people espouse the rule of white wine with poultry, but the strong flavors of Thanksgiving lend themselves to pinot noir so well. Make sure you at least try it. Or do like we do, give lots of choices at the table, and let everyone share tastes!

What are you serving at Thanksgiving? I'd love new suggestions to share at our tasting table.

Happy Thanksgiving!

Face value

2009-11-17T10:50:00.000-08:00

Peanut is 2 1/2 now and, among other recently acquired talents, knows how to speak her mind. She has begun to articulate ideas and thoughts that address the big picture of life -- not just toys and food and silliness. As with every child when they reach this point, what she has to say is pretty interesting.

She started preschool a couple weeks ago, and I have never seen a child more ready for preschool. It is as if this is where she has belonged her whole little life. She loves it beyond words.

The other day, she was talking to me about one of her teachers, whom she has liked since we've been taking Jellybean to preschool. She was telling me a story about something Miss Amy (not her real name) likes to say. Then, she paused for a moment, looked me in the eye, and with more innocence than I thought any single person could conjure, she said, "Miss Amy has a dark face."

I was at the same time surprised, offended and endeared. Miss Amy is a person of color, and we had never discussed that previously. As I was taking mental inventory of how to respond, Peanut continued.

"[Other teachers] Miss Jane, Miss Kathy and Miss Diane have light faces. You and Jellybean and me have light faces. But Miss Amy has a dark face."

She was clearly very proud of her analysis. She awaited my response, sweet-faced and genuine. I could go no other way than the honest route. "You're right, Peanut. Some people have dark faces, and some people have light faces. But we're all the same kind of people."

All I could think after that was how I wished it could just be that simple. Because of so much history and wrongdoing, we as a society (and a world, in many ways), can't just notice someone's color and move on. Maybe we should take a cue from the 2-year-olds and start looking at the world as it is now -- pack away our judgments and walk forward, knowing what we know but not using it.

The end is near

2009-11-12T11:30:00.000-08:00

I can feel it coming on. I sense its presence just around the corner. The very thing that has kept me sane for almost the past 4 years will come to an end soon. Life will never be the same once it does.

What am I talking about? Nap time. That glorious hour (or two) that allows me to do the things around the house that I want to do, not dictated by anyone under 4 feet tall. The down time I require to maintain my social skills by talking to friends on the phone or neighbors. That daily appointment with my DVR to crank through all the shows I need to watch. The productive window during which I can crank out assigned writing. All of it is slipping through my hands day by day.

Jellybean has been skipping a nap here or there for a few months now. Some weeks she sleeps 6 out of 7 days, and some weeks she sleeps 2 out of 7 days. Every day, I still make her have an hour of "quiet" time no matter what. I say "quiet," because some days it is anything but -- bordering on boisterous, and I end up going in to shush her a couple times during the hour. There is no rhyme or reason as to when she sleeps or doesn't sleep. Some days I'll leave her room and think, "No WAY she sleeps today," and 3 minutes later: silence. For an hour and a half. Other days, I've run her ragged in the morning, and she's falling apart at the seams, and yet an hour into quiet time, she's chipper and ready to roll.

Peanut is still a consistent napper for the time being -- I hope she remains oblivious to Jellybean's activities, or that could be blown too. I have played defense a few times for Peanut, attempting to snuff out Jellybean's noise before it wakes Peanut. Mostly successful so far.

I know in a few years, I'll look back and feel like the era we had napping kids lasted about 10 minutes. My friends with older kids feel that way. But for now (and the past 4 years), nap time is a mainstay of my existence. Without it, I almost don't know who I will be. Stay tuned, some day you'll see.

What's on your playlist?

2009-11-08T11:06:00.000-08:00

Just recently, I got inspired to create a new music mix for the kids and I to listen to. I hadn't made a new one for a while, so I had fun brainstorming different songs that L and I already had in iTunes.

Don't get me wrong -- I love some of the kids' music that's out there right now. Dan Zanes and Barenaked Ladies are probably the ones I can listen to the most without having annoying earworms at all hours of the day. As I've talked about before, some is better than others, but sometimes I just want to hear something a bit more mature.

I made a couple CDs two years ago or so that included Jimmy Buffett, the Beatles and Bob Marley, plus a selection of showtunes. Those are fun, and they're still in regular rotation. (Side note: If we're out somewhere and hear any of the aforementioned playing, one of the kids will invariably say quite loudly, "This is MY music!" Always garners an amusing response from surrounding adults.) With this CD, I was striving for musical variety -- styles, decades, etc.

So here's the latest playlist. You would probably be surprised to know which songs are their favorites.

Dancing Queen, ABBA
Walk Like an Egyptian, The Bangles
If I Had $1,000,000, Barenaked Ladies
Stand by Me, Ben E. King
Let's Go Crazy, Prince
The Tide Is High, Blondie
Take the Money and Run, Steve Miller Band
Wide Open Spaces, Dixie Chicks
La Bamba, Los Lobos
Iko Iko, The Dixie Cups
Grease, Frankie Valli
Great Balls of Fire, Jerry Lee Lewis
I'm Yours, Jason Mraz
Mother Nature's Son, Sheryl Crow (from "I Am Sam")
Livin' la Vida Loca, Ricky Martin
Hey There Delilah, Plain White T's
Blackbird, Sarah McLachlan (from "I Am Sam")
Supersition, Stevie Wonder
Soak Up the Sun, Sheryl Crow
But Anyway, Blues Traveler
Everyday Is a Winding, Road Sheryl Crow

Help me start my next playlist: What songs do your kids like?

Coming down off the sugar high

2009-11-02T10:51:00.000-08:00

We had so many Halloween activities this year, it seemed more like Halloween week than Halloween day. Was it because the actual day was a Saturday, or was it because the kids are at the age that we have more things we can do?

Although it was a bit hectic and tiring (the girls were visibly fatigued by the time we actually went out trick-or-treating), we really did have fun. I overcame my costume cynicism with Jellybean when I saw how much she was enjoying being a princess. And Peanut just loved telling everyone that she was Dorothy and her dog was Toto.

I put the candy onus on the girls so that I didn't have to decide if I should buy candy I liked or didn't like -- that really is the true Halloween conundrum, in my opinion. You're darned if you do and darned if you don't. So the girls picked the bags of candy at the store, which they thought was an important responsibility.

We had a pumpkin-carving and pizza party at preschool a couple days before Halloween. Then we had a costume party at preschool with lots of fun activities the day before. On Halloween night, we trick-or-treated early on so that we could get back home to greet most of the neighbors at our house. The girls loved opening the door to see what costumes would meet them on the other side.

It was a happy Halloween, but we were all equally happy to head to bed that night and be done with the festivities.

Fruity red wines

2009-10-27T10:41:00.000-07:00

It's getting cooler out and, alas, my favorite white wines no longer seem appropriate for the season. My sadness diminishes, though, as I pop open a bottle of fruit-filled red wine and get warm from the inside out.

When I call these wines "fruity," I mean it in the sense of bold, (wo)manly fruit flavor. These are all perfectly drinkable on their own for warming yourself up, but they pair great with filling meals like chili, lasagna, steak and mushrooms.

These are all fairly recent discoveries of mine, so I'm eager to hear what you think. I'm listing them in order of character, lightest to most full-bodied.

Baron Philippe de Rothschild Pinot Noir -- I don't love French pinots as a general rule, but this one has much more fruit than your typical earthy French pinot. And pretty much anything with the Rothschild name is worth trying once. About $10/bottle

Juan Gil Monastrell -- The monastrell wines from Spain, as L can attest, are my new obsession. There is a younger generation of winemakers in Spain just beginning to distribute product worldwide, and this (as most Spanish wines are) is a fantastic value. Lovely berry fruit with a smooth finish. $7-10/bottle That's not a typo! What a deal.

Layer Cake Shiraz -- We have had a bottle of this in the house every week for the past couple months. L is fixated on this one, and rightfully so. It is smooth and creamy, with fruity pepper and almost smoky flavors. You will just want it to sit in your mouth, it's so good. About $10-12/bottle

Trapiche Malbec -- Argentinians know something about macho red wines. Malbecs are fairly new on the scene in the U.S. in the past five to seven years. They are so well-rounded, you can pick out almost any flavor in a good malbec. This is my go-to malbec, great with a meaty dinner -- or better yet, South American cuisine. About $10-12/bottle

Maipe Malbec -- I just had this last week for the first time, and I was about knocked over by the fruity nose and the jammy flavor. Even for a malbec, it was so multidimensional. It would be great with dinner, but I liked it after dinner to absorb all the fruity flavor on its own. And it's darn near a steal. About $8-10/bottle

Sell out with me, oh yeah

2009-10-24T06:01:00.001-07:00

I made it almost 4 1/2 years without succumbing. My resolve has been strong since I was pregnant with Jellybean, not knowing if she would be a boy or girl. I knew if I had a girl, I would have to face this at some point. And now, the battle is over, and there is a clear victor.

The Disney princesses have won over my 4-year-old. I tried so hard to prevent them from entering my house. Indeed, the only vestiges of them are in the form of greeting cards that others have sent. We don't have any actual toys that resemble any of the princesses. (There is a smidgen of satisfaction that I haven't directly submitted any money to the evil mouse corporation)

I pride myself on being open-minded on child-rearing topics, and sometimes it can be a strain for me to remain so. Disney and princesses are two areas that have been an ongoing struggle for me. Coming into October this year, I knew what I was up against for Halloween.

Being a marketing person, getting conquered by a marketing machine like Disney is an extra dagger in the heart. I know how insidious those campaigns are -- more like brainwashing than advertising. So, when I tell you that Jellybean will be Cinderella for Halloween, I take comfort that neither she nor I has reached the "brainwash" phase. We still haven't given a dime to Disney, even with the costume. We got it secondhand. Take that, evil mouse!

The eye of the beholder

2009-10-10T11:22:00.000-07:00

I have always loved hearing people's stories about the hilarious/clever/embarrassing things their kids have said. After you read this, I hope you'll share your stories, either about your kids or about yourself as a kid.

Peanut is just approaching the age and stage that she says funny things on purpose, and yet doesn't quite understand social convention enough to know that some observations are best kept to herself.

A while back, all four of us were out to eat at a restaurant with my mother-in-law and brother-in-law. An older couple was seated at the table next to us. I didn't pay them much attention, because I was too busy making sure salsa, chips and quesadillas didn't get flung across the restaurant or eaten off the floor.

We were about halfway through lunch when Peanut piped up triumphantly, "Her hair is purple!" Of course, in typical 2-year-old fashion, she said it while pointing boldly in the direction of the older couple. We redirected her with quiet murmurs like, "Yes, sweetie, would you like another chip?"

No dice. Peanut wanted us all to share in her discovery. "Her hair is purple! That lady has purple hair!" Louder and with more oomph to her pointing. My MIL and BIL were snorting into their napkins with laughter. L kept Jellybean in check with a stern glance that he somehow managed to conjure.

Amazingly, I kept my composure long enough to lean in, look her in the eye and say something in my end-of-discussion tone like, "Her hair isn't purple, it's red, and we're all done talking about it."

Then, I snuck one last glance at the lady's hair, leaned down to the ground as if picking something up off the floor and had my own guffaw.

Her hair really was purple.

Little girls, little girls

2009-10-05T12:00:00.000-07:00

This morning, I went in to Peanut's room to get her up. She was sleepy-talking in her bed, and when I picked up her warm, jammied little body out of her crib, she just folded into me, wrapped her arms around me gently and rested her head on my shoulder. Oh, it was so sweet and such a cozy start to the day. I thought to myself, "This is why I'm glad I have girls."

The song "Little Girls" runs an almost constant loop in my head these days. I'm sure that has nothing to do with the fact that the girls ask me EVERY DAY if they can listen to the Annie soundtrack. I do let them some days, and other days, oh darn, I just can't find that CD anywhere. Don't know where it could have gone...

My subconscious also summons the song regularly, though, as I find myself surrounded by everything little girl-related there could be. Including two actual specimens. And I couldn't be happier about it.

I didn't know I wanted to have daughters. I always assumed I would have boys -- I'm kind of a tomboy, and I've been surrounded by boys all my life, in my family and my neighborhood. I didn't think I could handle dresses and frills and princesses (okay, I still don't accommodate princesses very well). But all the cuddling and affection are way more than I knew could happen with such little people. It turns out that girls are exactly what I needed.

Even though they are little, they really are girls now. I don't mean they weren't before, it's just that now they can express their girlieness. (check out the accessorizing they did to their outfits in these pictures, and you'll see what I mean)

"Little shoes, little socks, and each little bloomer..." The little girl stuff is great. I'll hold onto it as long as I can, because somehow I have a feeling the bigger girl stuff ain't gonna be near as rosy.

A shot in the arm

2009-09-30T12:00:00.000-07:00

When Jellybean was born almost 4 1/2 years ago, the chatter about vaccines causing other health problems was just beginning. I read about it, but I didn't feel like I needed to do anything differently because of the possibilities. I took her to each well baby appointment and dutifully recorded each shot in her health record.

Nearly two years later, by the time Peanut arrived, moms everywhere were all a-twitter about all the ailments that could be a direct result of routine childhood vaccinations. I consulted my pediatrician at each appointment and decided to bypass a couple of shots, including the rotavirus vaccine, at her recommendation. I was really on top of things and felt like I knew all the choices I could make about the vaccines.

I felt confident and informed about Peanut's vaccines until. Until last week. I received a notice from the state of Michigan that Peanut was lacking the final dose of one of her vaccines, and I needed to check with my pediatrician's office about that dose. I double-checked my records and corroborated the state's information -- she had all the shots they said she had, and no more.

So, I called the pediatrician's office, and come to find out, that final dose is actually optional. I am choosing to skip it for my own reasons. But I didn't even realize it was a choice. I had asked all the right questions. I had scrutinized every shot. I was in tune to what was happening. Except I wasn't. It's just a minor optional vaccine booster. Why didn't anyone give me the choice, then?! How many of those agonizing shots that she's already had were optional?

At least in all my paying attention and educating myself about vaccines, I have learned one valuable piece of information: checking titers. I will definitely be doing that for both of my girls when the time comes for them to go to kindergarten.

Strange bedfellows

2009-09-24T12:39:00.000-07:00

Jellybean loves books -- like, so much that she sleeps with them. Literally. Books in her bed. Every night.

I also love books, but the thought of large hunks of hardcover storybooks poking me from every angle while I attempt to slumber is not the least bit appealing. I'll stick to reading them and placing them on my nightstand. Jellybean will not; in the bed they go.

Books in her bed have been a nightly request for, oh, almost three years. I thought it was a phase that would last a couple weeks at most. Shows what I know.

It all started 3+ years ago when I was out of town, and L came in to get 1-year-old Jellybean out of her crib in the morning. Her crib was strewn with books, nearly covering the entire surface. She had maneuvered them through the slats, presumably one by one, the previous night while L thought she was asleep. (Her nightstand was in close proximity)

Pretty much ever since then, at every naptime and bedtime she has asked for books in her bed -- and we have complied. She likes to look through them and "read" them (i.e., recite them from memory) to herself before drifting off to sleep. But that's only a small part of them. I think she actually draws comfort from the books' mere presence. Often she's too tired to even touch them, but there they remain, carefully tucked under her pillow all night long. They're there if she needs them.

Other times, she dives in and reads each one, then arranges them to suit her sleeping comfort. I have performed many a delicate nighttime book extrication in the dark to prevent her from rolling onto them or knocking them onto the floor (which has happened more times than I can count -- THUD, in the middle of the night).

She has her lovey Berkeley Bear, her quilt and her books. What more does a girl need for her beauty rest?

Side note: The books make for great leverage if she's misbehaving at bedtime. "If you keep acting like this, there will be no books in your bed tonight." Problem solved.

Sundays unplugged

2009-09-20T11:02:00.000-07:00

No matter what we've done on any given weekend, I'm always tired by Sunday night. Often on Sunday mornings, with children scurrying about, I find myself fantasizing about sitting down and just zoning out with a book or crossword puzzle. So I decided to make it official (well, as official as anything is in this house) and declare Sunday evenings after the girls are in bed "Sundays unplugged."

That means, that whatever L and I do, the phone sometimes being an exception -- it's a cell phone, after all -- must be manual: reading the paper, reading a book, talking (gasp!), doing the Sunday crossword, playing a game, etc. No TV, no music, no computer.

And can I tell you? It is one of the best parts of my week! It's the ideal way to wrap up a busy weekend, and it's an oasis of calm. It gives us an excuse to settle down and not have people talking at us -- which we have plenty of, weekend or not -- and to just. Be.

The idea of crossword puzzles as relaxation is pretty new for us. Our parents took them up fairly recently, with the idea of keeping their minds limber as they age. Between collaborating with them on puzzles when we're all together and the movie "Wordplay," I think we got inspired.

Just writing this, I'm already looking forward to tonight. No more Sunday night blues about the work week beginning. Just chillin' with my old-fashioned books, papers and pencils! And hopefully doing well on the Sunday crossword.

Makeovers

2009-09-16T12:25:00.000-07:00

Who doesn't love a makeover? Really, we all are kind of obsessed with the instant gratification of someone or something going shab to chic. Sorta like my oven last year. Well, maybe I was the only one excited about that.

Anyway, the girls needed haircuts. Really badly. Like, they looked so shaggy, they were almost neglected. I do NOT want to take them to the salon every other month for a coiffure. I have better things to do with my time -- and patience. (Thank goodness I didn't have boys! They would just have long hair, but not for style reasons.)

So I am officially announcing my subscription to the "Cut-as-much-as-possible-so-we-don't-spend-our-lives-at-the-salon" school of hair styling. And, please don't suggest I cut their hair myself. I wouldn't wish that on anyone, especially my own children.

You can see for yourself how dramatic the transformations were. I love actually being able to see their faces now, instead of two little mops of blond hair. And they have loved showing of their new 'dos.

The lollipops? Yet another perq.

Hiding quarters

2009-09-13T12:46:00.000-07:00

I never understood until I was a parent how a toddler's mispronunciation of words morphs so naturally into a family's permanent vernacular. I guess if you hear it wrong enough times, you subconsciously start repeating what you hear -- even when you're the adult!

Peanut started having flare-ups of eczema after she turned 1. I learned to stay ahead of the breakouts, and when we do, the itchiness isn't a problem. But every once in a while the eczema beats us to the punch. Thankfully, we have prescription hydrocortisone that we put on the "itchies," as Peanut calls them, to stop them in their tracks.

Last winter, I was putting some hydrocortisone on an itchy when she picked up the tube and called it her "hiding quarters." After that, every time she had a breakout, she would say, "Mama, can I have some hiding quarters for my itchies?"

It wasn't until last week that I realized no one in this house refers to hydrocortisone by its correct pronunciation. At least WE know what we're talking about! (I'm sure a babysitter or two has been confronted with this request and wondered what we're doing with our coins)

As far as the eczema goes, we use high-moisture, all-natural lotions twice a day, in addition to a kind-of expensive bath soap. We've managed well so far, but I recently read about this study involving bleach baths, and, crazy as it sounds, maybe it's worth a try this winter. It might save us refilling our prescription for hiding quarters.

Farm to table

2009-09-10T11:47:00.000-07:00

As I have mentioned before, I am a huge fan of eating locally, and I make both local and organic foods priorities for us. In that vein, this summer, for the first time in several years, we subscribed to a local farm share.

Going into the summer, I knew from the past a few things would be true with the farm share: 1. The fruits and veggies would be delicious beyond our imagination. 2. Cleaning and sorting the share would be a decent-sized project each week. 3. Incorporating everything in the share into our weekly menu would be a challenge.

These assertions all turned out to be accurate. The food has been SO good -- I didn't know salads could be so satisfying. However, I have come to appreciate when someone else (either L or the grocery store) cleans lettuce, spinach and potatoes for me. I spent more than a few hours leaning over my sink trying to rinse every bit of grit from the vegetables.

And I was glad to be prepared for allowing flexibility in our meals, because we only had a day or two's warning of what would be in the share each week. I am impressed at our creativity -- it was a team effort for L and me -- finding ways to fix even the most obscure of vegetables day in and day out. Along the way, we happened upon some delicious recipes and concepts.
But even with my previous experience with the farm share, nothing could have prepared me for how the kids would respond. I had no idea that they would eagerly anticipate our weekly trips to the farmer's market to retrieve the share. "When is it Wednesday so we can get stuff from the farmers?" they ask. We're talking about vegetables here, not toys. But it is approaching that level of excitement.

As we drive home from the farmer's market with our share box packed chock-full, they speculate about what might be inside. By the time we're home, opening the box on the kitchen floor is nothing short of Christmas, and I'm not exaggerating. "Finally, corn!" "Crunchy carrots!" "My favorite spinach!" (we call kale spinach for simplicity's sake) "Cucumbers to pickle!" Both Jellybean and Peanut now can identify almost every seasonal vegetable and fruit in its natural, raw state.

We have our farm share until mid-October. After that, we're on our own, I guess.

Chicago trip!

2009-09-08T11:34:00.000-07:00

I just re-read my post I wrote before our trip to Chicago, and I can't get over how neurotic I sound. I'm not really like that, am I? Sheesh.

Despite all the (minor) challenges I mentioned, our trip was really fun. We stayed in a single hotel room with both girls, managed to get enough sleep to be sane, and got around the city just fine.

I got a lot of messages from friends with advice from my anal retentive post, so it was worth it. A friend lent me her stroller and Highlights magazines, and I got many, many great Chicago tips, almost all of which I used this time. The rest will be saved for our next trip! Such a fun place to visit.

L and I spent some quality time in the hotel room bathroom while the kids went to sleep, both at naptime and in the evenings. (Thank God for wireless internet.) It won't be long before we'll be done with naps and ready for later bedtimes that we can all do together -- but we're not there yet! So, trips like this are fun but not ideal. We were there 3 nights, and I think that was about all we could do before the lack of sleep would've turned us all into monsters.

One note: I am happy I dug out our old white noise machine from when Jellybean was a baby. It was the perfect buffer for hallway noise and plumbing noise in the hotel (for all of us!).

Traveling with kids -- any tips?

2009-08-24T12:28:00.001-07:00

Later this week, we're taking the kids and the father-in-law (who both L and I are counting in the "kid" column instead of the "adult" column) on the train to Chicago for a long weekend. I'm so psyched about playing in the Windy City in its summer glory!

Getting there will be easy, doing fun things and eating will be easy. But, we're staying in a regular hotel room and no longer have a regular stroller because I sold it in the garage sale after it sat around neglected for months. Call us non-adventurous, but we haven't done the hotel room thing with both kids until now. And I hadn't factored in a largely pedestrian (so to speak) vacation when I sold the stroller.

Any recommendations? Advice?

Sutherland drink?

2009-08-22T12:04:00.000-07:00

I always saw this weird word in the grocery store dairy section, and I couldn't venture how to pronounce it, let alone consume it, so I just left it well enough alone. Now, go figure, it has become one of my go-to snacks for the kids. If they knew how good it was for them, they might not love it as much as they do. So I won't tell them that part.

I'm talking about kefir. It's pronounced KEE-fer, just like Kiefer Sutherland, if you're challenged like I was. I bought it to give to Peanut when she was sick a couple months ago and having a bad bowel reaction (sorry, TMI) to her antibiotic. It's similar to yogurt, although it has more active cultures than the main brands. Plus, it has dietary fiber. And did I mention it tastes like a smoothie?

We call it "yogurt drink" at my house, for simplicity. It is often the afternoon snack, and I serve it in our (previously special-occasion) built-in straw cups. No prep required, it's healthy, filling and everyone loves it.

So if you've seen it and felt a bit xenophobic too, I'm here to tell ya it's worth trying. This is the brand I like the best, and this winter I plan to kick it up in the blender with extra fruit and other nutrition. It also works wonderfully as a dip for fruit or graham crackers.

Tall drink of water

2009-08-19T14:00:00.000-07:00

Peanut, at not quite 2 1/2, is really, officially starting to outgrow some of the toddler things. Like, we took down the baby gate from the bottom of the stairs. She swings on the "big-girl swings" in the backyard and at the park. We no longer strap her into her booster seat at the table (she still needs the height a bit, and I like it for psychological reasons -- as in, stay in your seat and eat!).

She's also approaching the end of her need for sippy cups. It used to be that when we went to the park or anywhere out and about to play, I'd bring water so either of the girls could have a drink when they needed. Because the environmentalist in me prohibits buying bottled water, I always brought tap from home. Until the end of the spring, I was bringing the water in a sippy cup so Peanut could have a drink without spilling the entire supply. I had just begun to wonder how I could replace the sippy with something a little more grown-up, when the girls discovered L's biking water bottle. Yet another benefit of our biking hobby, as it turns out.

"Daddy's water bottle" has become our standard drink bearer for all outdoor activities this summer. Both girls have figured out how to work it and drink out of it, and it is perfect in so many ways. It's big enough to have adequate water for both of them, it doesn't spill, and it fits in the car cupholders.

I've seen the individual flip-lid straw thermos things for kids and all manner of stainless steel bottles (which I think are very cool, by the way). But Daddy's water bottle is just the perfect thing. However, it will look a tad out-of-place when we're toting it in the February dead of winter as opposed to the August sun and sweat...
Photo credit goes to Jellybean!

Get on your bikes and ride

2009-08-18T10:35:00.000-07:00

We have re-discovered biking this summer, and have had some of our best family time when we've been on two wheels. The bikes have both literally and figuratively taken us off the beaten path, and we've had a lot of fun.

It all started when we bought new bikes for ourselves in May. It was something we had been talking about for a couple years, but just never got around to doing. We live in a very bike-friendly place, complete with bike lanes on many of the main streets, so it was such an easy thing to break into.
We received a retro hand-me-down Burley from some friends that has been sitting in the basement awaiting some action. And action it has gotten -- I'd love to know how many miles we've logged on that thing. The girls love riding in it, and thankfully, L doesn't mind pulling it. The two of them combined are close to 80 lbs., so it would be a struggle for me to pull them, especially uphill. L must be freakishly strong, because we've had several steep inclines that I'm barely dragging my own butt, and I look over at L and he's cruising right on up with an extra 80 lbs. behind him!
The evening bike ride to a park or activity has become one of our favorite pasttimes. Eat dinner, do the dishes, load everyone up, and hit the road. One evening, we went to the neighborhood ice cream place, and an older couple were oohing and ahhing over the girls in the Burley. The man said, "It's so nice to see something that a man HAS to do [pulling the Burley] -- there aren't many of those things left." I couldn't decide whether to laugh or resent him. I did a little of both.

During our time at the beach, we did several rides on a Rails to Trails bike path. Hello, stimulus money? That would be the perfect project in a slow economy: clean up nasty old unused railroad tracks and give us more places to move our ever-increasing girth (for free!). Many states have Rails to Trails, and you often end up seeing things you can't or won't see from the road.

I don't know if we'll be able to use the Burley for both kids next year. Jellybean crowds Peanut quite a bit, and her legs may be too long next year. *sniff* Just like everything else with little kids, I'll enjoy it while I can.

Shade, sand and no surf

2009-08-10T11:47:00.000-07:00

For some ironic reason, the main attraction in our backyard since we returned from the beach is the sand box. Nevermind that we were surrounded by one of the world's biggest sandboxes the entire time we were there -- and spent more than a few hours trying to vanquish said sand from our shoes, clothes and house. Sand, sand, sand for our whole vacation. Now we are home, and both girls have passed hour after hour sitting in our sand box playing with the exact same toys they played with at the beach, only with about one-billionth of the amount of sand.

They have also made a new discovery, which is much more understandably fun from my point of view. Peanut discovered what the girls are now calling "the tent" in our backyard bushes during a game of hide-and-seek. Leave it to clever Peanut to locate a parent-free private play place. It is the perfect little alcove, and the girls retreat there regularly (when not engrossed in the sand, of course) to sing, pretend and just generally hide out. You may be able to tell from the faked smiles that they were less-than-pleased to have me near "the tent," let alone photographing them in it.

Now I know what people mean when they say that fun is only as far away as your own backyard. What were we thinking going all the way to the beach?

Back to life, back to reality

2009-08-08T11:28:00.000-07:00

We have returned and settled back in from our fabulous summer vacation “up north” (as they say in Michigan) on the Lake Michigan shore.

If you’ve never vacationed on the Michigan side of Lake Michigan, you should. As a non-native, I can say without bias that it is one of the prettiest places in the U.S. The lake seems as big as the ocean, just as blue, but without the salt.

If the beauty isn’t enough to convince you, maybe a philanthropic approach can. I can say this without bias as well: Michigan needs money desperately. Tourism is the third-largest industry in the state (who knew, right?), and as with many things in this recession, it is taking a bit of a hit.

That said, our vacation was really all about us. We brought in quite a few out-of-staters in the form of friends and family – doing our small part to increase the tourism base – and we had a great time. We went to one of the same places we ventured last year, and we hope to go back next year.

Jellybean and Peanut are becoming beach kids, which I think is so cool. Yet another feather in their caps as little Michiganders.

Souvenirs

2009-07-10T17:13:00.000-07:00

L and I had a weekend getaway last weekend and left the kids at our house with a sitter. They had a magnificent time with her -- she was definitely more entertaining than we ever are! And we had ourselves a lovely time as well.

When we checked into the hotel, I noticed our room had a stash of nice hotel letterhead, envelopes, notepaper and a pencil. I tossed it in my bag to bring home to the girls.

I spent time looking in souvenir shops throughout the weekend to find something else to bring home, but nothing spoke to me like all that fancy blank paper.

The day after we got home, I needed to do some tidying in the house. I brought out the souvenirs I had beaten the streets (ha!) to get for them. I spread out the paper on their drawing table, and they immediately started leafing through it all. As I walked away to start my work, I heard Jellybean exclaim, "This is a good present!"

Chalk one up for good ol' Mama. You just have to know your audience.

Candid camera

2009-07-05T12:00:00.000-07:00

Jellybean's big gift from us for her birthday this year was a digital camera. She's only 4, so it was a kid-proof (but functioning) digital camera.
For a couple months, she has been using blocks and Legos as pretend cameras. She holds something that's vaguely rectangular, aims it at us and says, "Say cheese." Well, now her pretending days are over! As we anticipated, she absolutely loves her camera.

Her pictures are so interesting and have provided a great insight into her life as a kid.

For example, here's what I look like to her:Here are L and Peanut:
As she practiced more, she got more accurate with her aim and actually came out with some pretty cool ones.The last one is a picture of her Father's Day gift for L -- her photo in a picture frame that she decorated. I liked the perspective.

We still hear a lot of "Say cheese!" around here, but now we know we'd better be paying attention! We never know what kind of blackmail we're in for when she's a teenager.

Birthday demands

2009-07-01T12:42:00.000-07:00

With one child born in May and the other born in June, spring is birthday season around here! Both girls were very specific about how they wanted to celebrate their birthdays this year. It was fun to see them influence each other -- and celebrate each other.
For Peanut's birthday, we had a pretty simple party and invited many neighbors over to play and have cake and ice cream. Not just any cake and ice cream, though. Peanut was adamant that she had to have YELLOW cake and ORANGE ice cream. She told us that for a week before her party. She told everyone at the party, and she told all her grandparents on the phone after the fact. Pretty demanding for a newly minted 2-year-old. Ordering by color is fun, though, and I'll take those kinds of (easily fulfilled, not outlandish) demands while I can get them.
Jellybean also had particular birthday requests -- and hers were also fairly tame. She wanted to have her birthday party at the pool, and she wanted a rainbow cake. I wasn't sure how I was going to pull off the pool thing. We don't know anyone who has a pool, we don't belong to a swim club, she's not really old enough for a big waterpark, and I just didn't know how to make it work. She started talking about her party around the time of Peanut's birthday. As we got closer to June, I thought maybe she would back off on the idea or even possibly forget about it. Instead, she kept asking. So, I decided to, in the words of Tim Gunn, "make it work."
I did some research and checking around. Turns out the city pool allows people to rent the baby pool before public swim hours for parties. Perfect! Jellybean was onto something. The cost was reasonable, the timing worked, and there was just the weather to worry about. Worry, I did (about the weather and about Peanut's health, as it turned out). It was stormy and cool for the two days preceding the party. I refused to make a back-up plan, because I was willing it to work out. Then, lo and behold, about 2 hours before the party started, the clouds parted, the humidity cranked up, and it got downright hot outside. Yeehaw! Add to that that a friend of mine posted pictures of her daughter's rainbow cake a few months back. I had the rainbow cake in the bag to boot.
Although these were requests the kids made, I have to confess that their ideas really did make the parties fun. They weren't things that L or I would have come up with on their own, and it's cool to have kids who are old enough to create their own ideas and articulate them. Both parties were a blast, and I'm already looking forward to what they'll want to do next year!

A rough week

2009-06-30T11:24:00.000-07:00

I haven't written for a while. Life got a bit more complicated than it's been in a long time (read: ever), but I think things are calming down.

We were in the throes of planning Jellybean's birthday party, -- more on that later -- her actual birthday day and a weekend away for L and me. As if that wasn't enough to coordinate, Peanut got sick with what turned out to be a pretty serious infection. She's fine now, but she was definitely having a rough time. Just in time for Jellybean's birthday party, of course. (Why do kids always get sickest on the weekend?)

Having two kids is rarely easy, and of course we hardly ever get to give them the attention and recognition they deserve every minute of the day. But when one is having her first-ever school-friend birthday party at a special location and the other is simultaneously fighting a 103.9 fever for reasons unknown, our parenting instincts and abilities stretched in ways we didn't know they could. Jellybean deserved to be celebrated adequately, and Peanut deserved to be cared for, snuggled and loved, not to mention carefully watched.

How did we handle all that? Simple, we picked teams. Other than the party itself, which we all attended, we split into teams for all the party-planning activities, cake baking, medical visits, rest times and play times. One parent with the birthday girl, the other with the sick girl. We ended up doing a great job of balancing both the fun and serious activities, so neither L nor I did all of the same type with the same kid.

Jellybean's actual birthday was a few days after her party, and we had promised her we'd do something fun on that day too (note to self: don't promise this next year). Unfortunately, Peanut's infection didn't clear up quickly, so she was still a pretty sick kid even on that day. So, Jellybean got to pick which parent would take her to the city pool to play and swim, while the other one stayed home with Peanut, instead of all 4 of us going. I was ready for her to be sad that we all couldn't go, bracing myself for her to be bumming a bit. Not at all. She was thrilled to get to go and swim, and she chose me to go with her! Our teamwork went perfectly.

Those 5 days or so were very rough. Lots of activities, worry and stress for Peanut, interrupted sleep from thunderstorms (Jellybean) and illness (Peanut). We're officially done with birthday celebrating, and Peanut is on the mend. For now, hopefully we're back to the status quo -- for the few days remaining until we head on our summer vacation.

The feminist dilemma

2009-06-19T12:13:00.001-07:00

Jellybean is already investigating the plight of women. She has been saying now for almost 2 years that she wants to be a doctor when she grows up. Don't know where this came from, except that we do love our pediatrician (who happens to be female). I always tell her she can be whatever she wants to be.

She is always adamant about her future career, almost to the point of being insulted if anyone suggests something different. She'll be pretending to cook, and I'll say, "Maybe you can own a restaurant when you're a grown-up." She'll look at me, pause for effect, and say flatly, "I'm going to be a doctor."

So, with this in mind, she caught me a bit off guard the other day. She was telling me that she will be a doctor when she grows up. At the same time, she was holding her baby doll, Baby Lacey. She looked down at Lacey, looked at me again and said, "I don't want to be a doctor. I want to be a mom." Remember this? Yeah, I felt that way again.

But I was determined to clarify for her. See, because I am home with her, she thinks that moms can't GO to work. I can understand how she would get this perception, seeing as how her research involves one person -- me. I concentrated on minimizing the damage with a response.

All it took was me telling her that the two pediatricians she has seen are moms AND doctors. Her eyes widened. "Tell me more people who are moms and doctors..." Uhhh. I came up with a couple dad-doctors, and that satisfied her. She put Baby Lacey night-night and all was good with the world. Phew.

Don't judge a kid by their height

2009-06-15T10:42:00.001-07:00

Jellybean is tall for her age (she'll be 4 in a couple weeks). In fact, she's tall for a year older than her age. She clearly takes after L's side of the family -- I'm 5'4", and he's about 6'4".

When Jellybean was born, I became pretty adept at guessing ages of other babies, based on their size and what they were capable of. Then, as she became a toddler, I could look at other toddlers and gauge if they were younger or older, usually by how tall they were and how well they walked, etc. She has been very tall for her age since she started walking. It was a good lesson for me to have the super-tall kid, so that I didn't make too many assumptions about other people's kids at the park or play places.

L's brother is 6'7". I have heard L's mom talk since Jellybean was born -- and probably even before that -- about what a struggle L's brother had with always being the tallest kid. People, including his teachers, expected more from him because he was so tall. They would be out somewhere, and an adult or other child would ask him a question and be puzzled with his response. They didn't realize the child they were talking to was 2 years younger than they thought!

Jellybean has continued on the height trajectory similar to L's brother. Now that she is in preschool and interacting more with kids and adults, her height is affecting more and more situations. Even when other kids and adults know her age, they have trouble reconciling that a 3-year-old is the same size as a tall 5-year-old. Combining her height with her strong verbal ability makes it even more of a sticky wicket. Jellybean's preschool teachers have been very good at remembering her abilities, and she's in a mixed-age class, so all the children are accustomed to dealing with others of varying ages. I'd like to say I thought of that ahead of time and that's why we chose this preschool, but it's just luck.

Because I (obviously) have never had experience being "the tall kid," her height/age discrepancy is something I am working on being proactive with out in public social situations. We had an issue the other day of both a child and a mom getting frustrated at Jellybean for not comprehending a social situation. They were forgetting that she is not quite 4. It's easy to do.

So I'm experimenting with different ways to approach this and convey it to strangers, so as to avoid situations like the one the other day. I have a feeling it will be a process for years to come, unless her growth curve plateaus.

A few new (to me) wines

2009-06-09T18:41:00.000-07:00

I haven't written about wine for a while, but that's not to say I haven't been enjoying some. I've discovered a few that aren't quite on my favorites list yet, but they definitely have the potential to be. Thought you might like to know about them in case you come across them.

Colombelle, a French white blend of colombard (70%) and ugni blanc (30%). Funky grape vintages aside, just trust me, it's a crisp very light white wine. I don't usually find French wines that have remarkable enough flavor to recommend, but this is very nice with appetizers and other light foods. About $8.

Ferrari-Carano fume blanc/sauvignon blanc. Some of the best exotic-fruit flavor I've had from a white wine in a while. It's not Italian (nor is it from the car people), rather it's a Sonoma white. It will impress you, and it will impress guests. Yum! About $11.

Hob Nob pinot noir. Smooth with good fruit. Easy to drink and goes with everything from salad to barbecued meats. Side note: One of the coolest websites and bottle designs -- wine or otherwise -- I've seen in a while. About $10.

Shenandoah Valley Amador County zinfandel. A flavorful, drinkable zinfandel for a little price. Not quite my favorite Ravenswood, but quite good. About $10.

Fearing fear itself

2009-06-07T11:15:00.001-07:00

Jellybean is afraid of dogs (and cats). No, make that terrified of dogs. And it seems to be getting worse with time. L and I are completely at a loss as to what to do. It's awful to see her afraid, and the fear literally paralyzes her at times. And now, we seem to have the added effect of the fear becoming contagious to our previously animal-loving Peanut. I've mentioned Jellybean's fear of thunderstorms before, but her fear of dogs surpasses even that.

L is not quite the animal lover that I am. But he certainly isn't afraid of them. We have no clue where Jellybean's fear originated. As far as we know, she hasn't had a particular encounter with dogs or cats that set her off. When we first noticed her hesitation around animals, she wasn't quite 2, and when you're short, even small dogs are intimidating. Well, now she's almost 4 and is as tall as most 5-6-year-olds. So, height isn't the issue.

Here's the magnitude of her fear. If we're at a park and she's, say, on a swing and spots a dog headed for the park -- up to 50 yards away -- she'll start stressing. She will stay on the swing and refuse to get off until the dog is clearly headed in another direction. If we arrive to a park that already has a dog in attendance, she clings to me and whimpers -- even when the dog is clearly leashed or secured to something. I have to extricate myself from her and help her find an activity that doesn't involve being within 10 feet of the dog. If we're walking on the sidewalk and a leashed dog is approaching with its owner, Jellybean grabs me and tries to drag me off the sidewalk, hanging on for dear life as the dog passes. Loose dogs are off-the-charts scary for her (as are loose cats, which I learned about in two separate incidents in the past week that resulted in Jellybean hysterically crying when cats ambled toward our path).

She has petted dogs a couple of times, mostly when she's seen her peers or Peanut do so first. But those pleasant encounters have done absolutely nothing to make inroads with her fear. I have tried to discuss it with her calmly at other times, I have tried desensitizing her, I have done about everything I can think of.

Because of what her fear does to her, I find myself resenting dog owners at times. Why do you have to bring your dog onto the playground when you don't even have kids playing? Why is your dog running loose around the park? But, how could they know that people can be as afraid of dogs as Jellybean? I certainly never did when I had dogs.

I don't know what to do. I need to do some research and make a plan ASAP, though, before we end up with 2 kids afraid of dogs instead of just one.

Say you, say me

2009-06-05T17:28:00.000-07:00

Do you ever overhear a parent say something completely inane? And you wonder what exactly they're trying to accomplish? I said one of those very things in the grocery store today to Peanut: "If you take off your shoes one more time, I'm going to take them away."

Think about that for a second. Wouldn't you think that was exactly what Peanut wanted? To not have her shoes, because she was taking them off? Even as I said it, I thought, "That sounds really stupid." Believe it or not, it was exactly the threat she needed.

We were finishing up a longer-than-usual grocery trip. I knew I had a lot to buy, but this particular store always has lots of samples to get her (well, me) through all the aisles. So I thought it wouldn't be a problem. But I was mistaken. Peanut has become very crafty with her rebellions lately, and today was no exception.

The entire time we were in line at the checkout, placing item after item on the conveyor, watching the cashier zap each one, paying and signing the credit slip, Peanut was getting increasingly antsy. So, each time I turned my back to do something like get out my credit card, she took off her Crocs and threw them on the floor.

She accomplished the Croc removal twice before I was done paying for the groceries. The third time was just as I was getting ready to wheel the overburdened cart out to the parking lot. I picked up the Crocs from the floor and then uttered my seemingly nonsensical threat: "If you take off your shoes one more time, I'm going to take them away."

Her response? "Noooooo, I want my shoes!" And they stayed on all the way to the parking lot, the whole time I was unloading the cart, even for the car ride home. Take that, eavesdroppers.

Personal Jesus

2009-05-23T10:53:00.000-07:00

Who is pretend? Who is not pretend? Jellybean asks this about almost every singer, character in a book and person on TV lately. Her definition of pretend in these instances has just one criterion: Can we visit him/her in the flesh?

It started with "Annie," which is her favorite music. She asked one day if we could go visit Annie at her house. I explained that Annie is just pretend -- there is a girl singing the songs who is pretending to be Annie. Simple enough.

Then, "Can we go to Sesame Street sometime? I want to visit Bert and Ernie." Again, pretend characters in a pretend neighborhood. Comprehension.

L and I read her chapters of The World of Pooh, and she asked, "Can we go to the woods where Pooh lives?" We have woods by our house, so she just assumed he lived there, until I explained that the whole concept is pretend. I cushioned the blow by reminding her that we can "visit" by reading the book.

As I've mentioned before, her preschool is at a local church. The other day, after preschool, I was getting her ready for naptime. We settle into her bed and she asks, "Is Jesus pretend?"

Quilt problem all stitched up?

2009-05-21T17:14:00.000-07:00

Our quilt crisis may be solved. We didn't plan it, it just happened, and it was way simpler than I imagined.

Previously, I had thought we might be able to have Jellybean's heirloom quilt/security blanket repaired by a seamstress or quilter. My quilting neighbor graciously invited me to bring the quilt to a quilting circle. All of the ladies there examined the quilt closely, and the consensus was that it could be repaired, restored and redone, but it wouldn't be the same. For one, it would lose its softness from being hand-sewn and "loved" by so many children (it was L's and his brother's before it was Jellybean's). That would be significant, given that she sleeps with it every minute.

So I was pondering elaborate scenarios like leaving it for the "quilt fairy" to take and having the quilt fairy replace it with a new quilt -- similar to what some people do with their pacifiers. I hadn't come to a decision about the whole thing.

Then, a couple days ago Jellybean woke up in the morning and told me her quilt was wet. Her Pull-Up had leaked (yes, we're having this problem again) onto the quilt a bit. So, I took it away to hand wash it, and of course it wasn't dry by naptime. So I grabbed an organic cotton blanket we have that I LOVE, and had it on Jellybean's bed for naptime. I was ready for a mini-crisis about the blanket and prepared to explain that she'd have it back tomorrow, etc.

Instead, she saw the blanket and exclaimed, "Ooh, look at the new blanket! Ohh, it's so soft..." So, thinking quickly on my feet (for once), I went with it, and told her she used that blanket when she was a baby, just like the quilt, and that it was very nice to sleep with, etc. My sales pitch held her for naptime.

After her nap, I told her that the quilt was getting too worn out and it was time to put it away... I was flinching for her meltdown. Nope. No problems.

So, now I feel like a crazy woman for having worried about what to do this whole time. Then I remind myself that it has only been three days. The other shoe could drop at any minute. However, I never thought she could be in bed without her quilt for three minutes, let alone three whole days!

The quilting ladies will be so happy I've preserved that quilt. And I'm happy to have rescued an heirloom from its steady decline.

Garage-sale sociology

2009-05-19T11:16:00.000-07:00

Garage sales are part business venture and part social experiment. That is my conclusion after my experience last weekend. Oh, and a whole lot of hard work. But that part isn't as interesting.

The sale is a business venture in that, as I explained to Jellybean, it's like setting up a store that is open for two days. You choose a location (for some, as simple as, garage or yard?), sort and price your merchandise, establish your accounting system and advertise your business. Aside from the location, the rest of those steps are pretty critical in making it successful. But the business end isn't the most interesting component.

To me, the social experiment is the diamond in the rough. Everyone knows that you see interesting people at garage sales. And I'm a sucker for good people-watching, so observing our "customers" was an added benefit for me. I feel like I have a whole new understanding of the people who live in my area -- and the whole country, for that matter.

Some of the people were kind of funny: the wheeler-dealers who will cut the price on anything just because they can, the lonely people who stay at the sale for 45 minutes mostly to have someone to talk to the whole time, the quirky people in altered states who try to stick the price tags on you when they make their purchase, you get the idea. It was great to be doing the sale with my friend, because we could exchange information about those people after they left, like what they bought and the reason we thought they bought what they bought.

Others of our customers seemed all right until you looked below the surface. There were many entire families shopping together -- dad, mom and all the kids -- and it was clear that they were there because garage sales are the source of their clothing and shoes and other necessities. I doubt many families with young kids would choose garage sales as their top weekend morning activity (some would, I'm sure, but I could tell that wasn't the case for many folks we saw). I wanted to secretly give them whatever they needed instead of making them pay.

There was another customer shopping with her little daughter whom I will probably never forget. I can't bring myself to go into detail here, but I will always question whether I should have intervened in an ugly situation. The little girl got a Dora doll, and let's just say I hope that doll will give her some sense of love and security.

As a marketing person, I can't help be most interested in why people bought what they bought, i.e., where the business venture and social experiment intersected. We worked very hard at presentation and making it easy to get to everything we had -- we had so much stuff, we were constantly shifting items around as other things were sold. We had "departments" like clothing, housewares, electronics, etc., so it was easy to find specific things.

The first things we sold? Some drapery panels, a dated duvet cover and several pairs of out-of-style ladies' shoes, including my worn-out Merrells. We had tons of baby gadgets, toys and clothes, yet that is what went first. Eventually, of course, many of those sold as well.
Children's books, old purses and baby hats all surprised us with their popularity. We restocked those for the second day because they had flown off the shelves. Same with used (once) gift bags, which we sold 2 for $1. People loved that.

The things that didn't sell? We thought these were guaranteed to go, and yet we still have them: a computer chair, a baby bouncy seat, Baby Bjorn, portable radio and DVD movies. Our stuff was cheap, so lack of demand must be the culprit.

As interesting as all these things were to Spin Mama the business person, Spin Mama the people-watcher and Spin Mama the marketer, I think it will be a while before I do another garage sale. At the very least, it will be several years (thankfully) before I can accumulate enough stuff to sell. And, even though I have an organized basement, clutter-free closets and fewer material things (ahh!) to add to my meager profits, I still put more effort into this single project than I have into anything in a long time. It's nice to have my life back this week.

Stuff

2009-05-13T17:12:00.000-07:00

My first garage sale is this weekend. The amount of stuff we have accumulated in this house astounds me. And I'm not even a shopper. These are things we deemed "necessary" or something close to necessary to function in life. Insane.

So as I've been sifting through what amounts to almost another entire house in our basement, I've come across all kinds of items. They really are just things, and I rarely miss material items once I get rid of them. I have discovered a bit of a purpose to all this "stuff," though: It jogs the memories.

Without the junk, I wouldn't have thought of all the things I've thought of in the past week, like events of my life flashing before me. I still have -- for the moment, anyway -- some of my old cassette tapes, many from the 80s. It amazed me how just seeing the name of one singer or song could bring to mind old friends and complete scenes and events. Strangely, the same thing occurred with my old purses. I recalled carrying that purse to such-and-such event when such-and-so happened.

I'm selling all the little-baby toys, gadgets (speaking of stuff that wasn't really "necessary" -- all the baby crap astounds me) and baby clothes, since we don't plan on more kids. All except The Orange Crocs and a few other little items, which I'm keeping for posterity. Having been at home with my girls more than I have worked full time since they were born, I feel like I remember vividly all the tidbits from their babyhoods. Of course, that's through a sleep-deprived filter and covering almost four years.

So last night, I was folding baby sleepers and nighties, and I was transported by a total recall of memories from Jellybean's infancy. L usually had post-bath duty in those days because it gave him a special time with her since I was nursing. I remembered how he would always talk to Jellybean in the sweetest way. He told her every night what animal or design was on her pajamas, and he talked to her about how pretty she was and how much he loved her. I was bursting with warm and fuzzy after remembering all this detail last night, and I couldn't wait to tell L about it. His response? "I don't remember that at all." He really didn't, he had erased it all from his mind. I was galled. How dare he forget anything about our babies?

That is why moms are supposed to be the keepers of all childhood stories. Dads are supposed to choose three stories from their kid's childhood -- preferably involving bodily fluids and/or embarrassing moments -- and repeat those same stories for the rest of their life to whomever will listen. I forgive L for his forgetfulness. And I'll allow him to choose his own three stories.

Equal rights gone wrong

2009-05-07T12:28:00.000-07:00

Just when I think I'm doing all right raising my kids, I have found an enormous failing on my part. I am so appalled at some of the things that Jellybean has said lately, I can hardly stand it. Okay, I'm exaggerating a little bit -- but only a little bit.

If you know me, you know that I'm not exactly a doormat, especially when it comes to equality for women. If you don't know me, well, just take my word for it.

Example #1: After seeing a fire truck close up, complete with firefighters and boots and helmets, Jellybean asks me, "Can girls be firefighters too?" Heart ---> floor.

Example #2: The girls were playing with balloons, and the ribbons got all tangled up. I picked up the balloons and tackled the project of untangling the strings. Jellybean says, "Dad is gonna have to do that when he gets home." Excuse me?!

These, from the same girl who already announced her run for president.

L and I run a very equal household. For every task/chore one of us doesn't do, there is something the other one does do. He fixes faucets, I do all the returns to stores. He grills, I bake. Everything else we divide in half: We both cook (arguably, L is better at that than I), we both do laundry, we both clean.

There is hardly anything beyond my capability when I'm with the girls during the day, and Jellybean in particular understands that. (Of course, she doesn't know how many times I've secretly steered her away from a bug so I could have L secretly kill it. I refuse to kill bugs, but I think that falls under the phobia category instead of the gender category.)

I've decided to take these questions and comments in stride. Jellybean is almost 4, and she's trying to figure out her role in the world. Girls can do anything, and I tell her that all the time. Girls should be strong and smart, and both L and I make a point of saying that and pointing out examples of strong girls and smart girls. I'm also trying to DO instead of just SAY (well, except for the bug thing. A phobia, I tell you.).

Hopefully this phase will be short, though, because I swear a little part of me dies every time she wonders aloud what girls are capable of.

What's in a birthday?

2009-05-06T17:14:00.000-07:00

Peanut is now officially a 2-year-old. I can't believe it. It seems like just yesterday I could hold a tiny Peanut in one arm while warding off a 2-year-old Jellybean. Ahh, memories.

Peanut's party isn't until this weekend, but of course we made the official birthday day a special day too. She's a very opinionated sort (don't know where she would get that!), so we gave her choices of things she could do on her birthday. She chose the zoo.

We spent several hours at the zoo, indulging her every whim with the animals she wanted to see. She literally talked to every single animal. "Hi, penguins!" she shouted, "Hi elephants!" Oblivious to everyone around her, using her special Dr. Doolittle powers to communicate. Every choice was hers to make all day long, she went first at everything, and of course at the end of the day there were presents to open. It was quite the special day for a 2-year-old.

L put her to bed that night (her choice again), and as he was reviewing her day with her like we always do, he asked her what her favorite thing was from her day.

Her answer: "Chocolate cupcake!"

So apparently, we could've sat around the house all day doing nothing but watching the grass grow, and as long as she had a chocolate cupcake at some point, she would've been happy. I love having kids that are so easy to please! May it always be this simple.

A little pair of shoes

2009-05-02T13:23:00.000-07:00

Through almost 4 years of having children, there are very few THINGS of theirs that I have loved or cherished enough to want to keep for posterity. Blankets, little outfits and baby toys have all been adorable and fun, but I’m happy to pass them along to other new babies. The orange Crocs, however, have become somewhat of an icon for Peanut.

And not just for me – family members and friends have been talking about The Orange Crocs since Peanut donned them last summer. In fact, one of my neighbors just mentioned them the other day, as in, “I still think shoes don’t get any cuter than Peanut’s orange Crocs.”

The acquisition of The Orange Crocs is not the reason they have become iconic. I sent L on a spur-of-the-moment errand on a warm day in May to try to find some “Croc-offs” for Peanut. I wanted Croc-offs because I didn’t want to pay the full price for the real Crocs, when Peanut was still in that phase of outgrowing clothes every week. L came home with orange real Crocs, saying he couldn’t find any Croc-offs in her size (a plausible story). They were orange because that was the only pair there was.

When I saw The Orange Crocs for the first time, I reverted to pre-motherhood and actually did the high-pitched “awww, how cute!” That is how sweet they were. Little did I know at the time, The Orange Crocs would have that effect on every single person who saw them from then on.
Peanut also was uncharacteristically drawn to them. She had just turned 1, but that girl knew some influential shoes when she saw them. She insisted on wearing The Orange Crocs all the time, and she cried when we took them off.

The Orange Crocs went lots of places last summer: the backyard, countless parks, Lake Huron, Lake Michigan, the pool. Peanut put a lot of miles on them. And everywhere she went, people talked to her about her shoes. She could barely say “shoes,” but she was lovin’ the attention hers brought. From old men to tween girls, people literally stopped in their tracks to say, “Look at her Crocs!” or “I love your shoes!” And we would hear the conversation continue as we passed on by, “Have you ever seen Crocs that little?” and “Those are the cutest Crocs I’ve ever seen.”

It was a sad day last fall when the weather got too cold for The Orange Crocs. I knew they wouldn’t fit her again, and I knew that no pair of Crocs, no matter how little, could ever compare to The Orange Crocs. They embodied the spirit that was my 1-year-old summertime Peanut.

I have put The Orange Crocs in a closet. I don’t know if I can bring myself to sell them at the garage sale I’m planning. In the meantime, this summer she is wearing purple hand-me-down Crocs from Jellybean. She loves the penguin Jibbitz she got for Christmas, and she still refuses to take them off, but that hasn’t stopped her from asking about The Orange Crocs.

Talk time

2009-04-26T17:00:00.000-07:00

It's been about 5 months since we cut the landline. We couldn't be happier. Not only are we paying less for phone service than we've ever paid, but we also love the portability (and textability) the cell offers.
One of the greatest benefits, however, is one I never could have predicted. Because the cell phone is smaller and less bulky than a landline cordless phone, it's a lot easier for the girls to hold. When we call my parents or L's parents now, the girls will chat with them on the phone forever. They like to look and act like us holding the phone, and the conversations are just priceless. (They also use their play phones to mimic texting like we do, which partly cracks me up and partly disturbs me.)

We used to have to chase them around the house with the cordless phone, pleading them to talk to Grandma or Grandpa. Now this phone -- combined with us cracking down on manners a bit -- makes the whole process effortless and provides entertainment for the grandparents.

My baby bird

2009-04-21T17:22:00.000-07:00

It has been a busy and draining couple of weeks. My parents came to visit for Easter and were here for a week, and in the meantime all four of us have passed around an awful chesty cough/cold that sapped us of our energy for a few overlapping days at a time. (I'm just waiting for the e-mails from my parents that they've caught our bug)

The girls had fun with their grandparents, even when they were under the weather. And L and I managed to keep up with cleaning the house, grocery shopping and being hospitable for the duration of the visit, despite being wiped out and caring for wiped-out kids.

Yesterday and today, finally we are simultaneously healthy and energetic for the first time in two weeks. Peanut made my day (possibly my week!) today, and I thought I'd share.

She had awakened early from her nap this afternoon -- another sign of being healthy -- so I brought her to the couch to read a book and rest a bit more. We finished the book, and she lay across me with her head nestled in the crook of my arm. She looked up at me, and in her little 1-year-old (almost 2, I know) voice she said, "I'm in my nest." *melt* We sat like that for about a minute more, and then she shoved off the couch and went to play.

Retro reads

2009-04-09T12:14:00.000-07:00

My mom is a pack rat (hoarder?), and because of that we have many (too many, probably) toys and items leftover from my childhood. Not just the requisite old baby blanket, but also two boxes of Barbie junk, random toys, a stuffed Ernie and about 50 books and...I'll stop there because I want to discuss the books.

From those old books have emerged some of my girls' favorite stories. A few have been re-issued, like my old Mr. and Little Miss books, but others are available at libraries or your favorite online book trader (I'm a Paperbackswap.com type myself). In the interest of fairness, I also traded for L's fave so the girls could enjoy that. I'm sharing these in case you're in search of old-school reads to go along with your Elmo-does-everything, Disney-redundancy, and learning-with-Dora selections that are a dime a dozen.

Here are our good old books, in no particular order:

The Little Engine that Could, by Watty Piper -- the Loren Long illustrated version is beautiful, and of course the story is timeless

Mrs. Duck's Lovely Day, by Vivienne Blake -- we read this on really rainy days

Frog and Toad are Friends, by Arnold Lobel -- four separate stories in one little book

Little Toot, by Hardie Gramatky -- L's favorite, about a harbor tug boat that also happens to be a modern-day environmental hazard (bygones...)

Buzzita, by Rhoda McBain -- actually from my mom's childhood (!); one of my favorite stories ever

The Little Squeegy Bug, by Bill and Bernard Martin -- has a character with a gun, but that gets reproached, and the rest of the story is adorable

Corduroy, by Don Freeman -- the original story, not tampered-with new Corduroy, which isn't near as good

Most of our books are in pretty good shape, but a few need a new binding. I have no idea where to start with that or if it's even possible in this day and age. Not to mention, I'd have some 'splaining to do if any of these books went AWOL for any period of time.

Attention...what was I doing?...span

2009-04-07T11:08:00.000-07:00

When my kids were little (I realize they're still young now, but 2 kids under 2 is a totally different category), I remember looking at parents of preschoolers and thinking that their kids were so old! What would that be like, I wondered, to have kids that can ambulate and communicate? Now I'm starting to find out.

Example: I no longer have to carry Peanut everywhere we go. She can walk pretty good distances, and most of the time she is very good about holding my hand and staying with me. She also recently learned how to climb into her own car seat. It takes about 15 minutes (exaggerating), but at least it saves me a hoist.

Jellybean has reached the phase that I remember my friends with older kids telling me about, and I never believed it was true: Her attention span has lengthened considerably. She will now sit for 30-45 minutes doing the same activity -- especially if that activity is artistic in nature. No more dragging out the crayons/colored pencils/markers and paper, only to turn right around and put them away. She would create art all day if I would let her (I do let her quite a bit). See Exhibit A, the marker picture of a sun, rainbow and flowers; and Exhibit B, a dot painting.

I remember when I couldn't wait for Jellybean's attention span to grow; I looked forward to settling in with activities. Here's the irony, though: Now that it's been almost 4 years coming, I am having a hard time adjusting. I'm so accustomed to bouncing from this toy to that toy and this project to that project, that I've forgotten how to sit down and do the same thing for a while. I'm not sure MY attention span is capable of this kind of time! Maybe by the time Peanut is almost 4, I'll be ready for it. In the meantime, I'm going to practice. I may even adopt a mantra (sit down, sit down, sit down...).

Vocabulary lesson

2009-04-03T17:05:00.001-07:00

Have you ever noticed how families seem to have their own dialect? I noticed when I was growing up that there were certain words that my friends' families and mine used among themselves that I didn't always understand, almost like inside jokes that evolved into terminology. Now our family is starting to do this same thing, and I'll share an example.

When Jellybean was born, in typical new-parent obsessive style, L and I (okay, mostly I) became conscious of making sure we called all the body parts their correct names so she would learn them. I'm not talking about private parts; I mean stuff like schnoz instead of nose. One of our choices was to refer to her backside as her bottom: "Sit on your bottom, please."

We got our swing set when she was almost 2, and we spent countless hours pushing her on the swing. I swear, she could've set the Guinness World Record for time spent in a swing without getting bored. So to keep ourselves from getting tired of pushing, L and I came up with little games and songs to do with her while she was swinging.

One of her favorites involved us drumming on her bottom when she swung toward us and yelling out "Drum!" She cackled every time. One day I heard L saying "Butt drum!" instead of just "drum." I thought that "butt" was not a word I wanted my 2-year-old repeating -- to me or anyone else. So I made him cease and desist use of "butt," and on the spot I came up with "Bum drum!" as a replacement. Same effect, gentler synonym, everyone was happy.

Over the past 2 years and with the addition of another child capable of speaking, "bum drum" has merged into our family's unique dialect. "Bum drum" = "bottom" at any given time. As in, "I fell and hurt my bum drum." Or, as Jellybean said to me yesterday when I stood up from coloring with chalk outside on the sidewalk, "Mama, you have chalk on your bum drum."

The sun also rises

2009-04-01T16:53:00.000-07:00

Spring and summer in Michigan are the best seasons. Nice weather, lots of sunshine, pretty foliage. At the peak of the summer, it stays light until 10 p.m. (!), which is fantastic if you don't have little kids who need to be asleep at a decent hour.

Two years ago in the spring when Jellybean was almost 2, out of the blue, she stopped going to sleep at bedtime. She stayed up and jabbered to herself, sometimes working herself into a hyper lather, necessitating that one of us calm her back down to sleep after an hour or so. L and I finally put together -- duh -- that the lighter evenings (it's light past 8 p.m already at this time of year) were contributing to her inability to fall asleep. So, we shifted her bedtime later and eventually found a balanced time that she would drift off. We were prepared for the same last year with her and shifted her bedtime accordingly as we saw the same pattern emerging, and it worked out fine.

Peanut was still unaffected last year, as she was still 9-10 months old and needed her baby beauty rest. But this year, Peanut is definitely noticing the lighter evenings. About 10 days ago, we put her down for bed, and she was not her automatic lights-out self. She started talking and singing and even screeching -- happily -- to herself. L and I didn't know what to do; despite the pleasant tone, we couldn't help but think something was wrong. See, she is "old faithful" when it comes to bedtime and naptimes (don't worry, it wasn't that way at all in the beginning). We put her in her crib, leave the room, and she's asleep instantly. Not so with the daylight evenings. We've had quite the concert at 7:30 for the past week; she mostly sings "Annie" songs, but whatever comes to mind apparently will do. We've pushed her back to 7:45-7:50 and have had more success (translation: fewer songs), but it looks like we'll be sliding even later as the summer progresses.

I've decided that the ever-changing kid's bedtime in the spring and summer is just another of the warm-weather rituals in Michigan, like getting out the patio furniture or putting on sunscreen. Now if I can just get myself to keep the same bedtime when it's light at 10 p.m.

Photo finish

2009-03-26T11:08:00.000-07:00

Until a couple of weeks ago, I had never taken either girl to have their picture taken. I take snapshots all the time, but for assorted reasons, we had never done the Photo. Shoot.
So now I've done it. Jellybean's preschool had a photographer come and do pictures on-site. They also allowed that siblings could come and participate. So I got both girls in their nice duds and managed to avoid trashing the outfits and hair long enough for them to get pictures taken.
We got the proofs yesterday. The good news is that most of them are pretty decent all the way to really cute. The bad news is that most of them are pretty decent all the way to really cute. As in, I can't buy 95 photos, even though a part of me wants to. I'm having a really hard time deciding which ones to get and how many. I want to have enough for gifts (Mother's Day and Father's Day for the grandparents, here we come!), but I don't want to still be holding on to 50 outdated photos a year from now.
I went through the proofs last night and pulled out the ones I definitely DON'T want. A couple of Jellybean by herself have funky smiles, and so does one of Peanut by herself. So that helped with a few. But I still have lots of good ones in lots of sizes. L made it clear he doesn't want to do the picking and planning (grrr, a bit, because most of them will be for his family in the end). So I'm on my own.
I'm thinking we'll get the ones of the girls by themselves just for us. Most relatives will probably want just one picture of both girls together. The picture of them together has a crayon background. The only good one of Jellybean has a plain background. I like the plain one of Peanut too, but there's one of her solo with the crayon background that I really love because you can see her little teeth and little feet. And, is it unfair to buy two of one kid and only one of the other kid (based on photographic quality, not favoritism)?

I'm hoping the photo fairy will appear and magically make my decision for me in the next few days. I had no idea how hard this would be!

(I know, there are wars and an economic crisis and those worry me too, but there are also tough choices closer to home. Like this!)

Decorated bodies

2009-03-22T16:40:00.000-07:00

We're in the midst of March Madness, so the TV has been on a lot more than normal (vs. almost never) this week.

The girls know a little about basketball, and they are picking up even more now. For instance, they now can recognize a coach and a referee, and Jellybean even understands things like rebounds. But not everything they know about basketball has to do with the sport or the athletic event.

The first day of the tourney, we were watching a game, and this conversation took place:

Peanut: "Mama, he has stamps!"

Me: "Who does?"

Peanut: "He has stamps, arm."

Me: "Oh, those aren't stamps."

Jellybean: "I think they're tattoos. Peanut, those are tattoos. I wonder where he got them."

This last comment made me laugh out loud. I know that Jellybean was thinking, who gave him those temporary tattoos, because we only get those as presents or birthday party favors, so he must've been somewhere good!

Budding novelist

2009-03-18T17:22:00.000-07:00

Jellybean has been "writing" books at preschool lately. She's done one at each of her last three preschool days. I put writing in quotes because she is actually dictating the books, but because she's responsible for the content, I think it can be considered a form of writing.

The books are small, about 3 x 3, made out of construction paper and drawing paper. She has created illustrations for them, almost entirely in purple marker, so that each page looks like it's almost straight out of Harold and the Purple Crayon. The pictures are so small, they didn't come through well on the scanner. You'll just have to use your imagination.

I couldn't resist sharing, so I am reprinting them below, with Jellybean's permission and I promise no copyright infringements here. As you will note, they are not particularly plot-driven, but they do carry some themes. Twilight series, look out!

Book #1:

Mama is taking me for a walk. A thunderstorm! I hug my daddy. That's Mama taking Peanut to the doctor. That's Daddy going to work. Daddy's fixing dinner -- noodles!

Book #2:

That's Peanut going to music class. That's me eating breakfast with Mama and Peanut. That's me, sleeping. I hear a thunderstorm and I'm with my grandma. That's Mama taking me to preschool.

Book #3:

That is Mama. She is sleeping. Mama is going for a walk with me. I am sleeping. Mama is with me and my sister. Mama is coloring.

Spring wine-ing

2009-03-13T11:03:00.000-07:00

When the weather gets warmer, I so enjoy a chilled glass of fabulous white wine. I've listed some of my household favorites before, but these deserve their own category.

If you haven't tried a sauvignon blanc from the Marlborough region of New Zealand, you are seriously missing out. The wines are consistently bright, fruit-forward and delicious. And they are some of the most economical out there, with the highest-priced being around $12/bottle.

These are my favorites, in ranked order:

Kim Crawford Sauvingnon Blanc

Nobilo Sauvingnon Blanc

Villa Maria Sauvignon Blanc

Brancott Sauvignon Blanc

As far as I can tell, they are all widely available at wine stores and restaurants. Although I have ranked them, really they are all so yummy. Because they are so flavorful, they are great to pair with food, but they also are drinkable on their own if you just want to kick back with a glass (or two!).

Attitude adjustment

2009-03-10T16:38:00.000-07:00

I often wish I could instantly perform an attitude adjustment on my kids, to help them make the best of situations.

I've talked a bit about my own attitude lately, and I made myself the beneficiary of another attitude adjustment a few days ago, with great success. My mother-in-law was here last week (groans of recognition from the peanut gallery, please) -- this mother-in-law, lest you forget.

I had a cold the day she got here and was feeling less than energetic, but L had to teach, so I had to hurry Jellybean out of preschool, come home and shove some lunch in us, load everyone into the car, drive 30 minutes to the airport and get Grandma, then come home and put crashing tired kids in their beds. I'm not complaining; it was just a bit of an orchestration.

So I started her visit out on the wrong foot because I was fatigued from both the illness and the hectic day. And, her initial 6 hours here were spent with only me -- no L to buffer and take in the craziness, er, energy from Grandma. (see? still retroactively adjusting my attitude) As a result, I was grouchier than usual. I'm normally very calm and at ease as a hostess, letting everything slide. But I couldn't resist a few jabs here and there. I was kinda rude, for me.

Initially, I was annoyed because she brought tons of presents -- so many that she couldn't fit her winter coat into her suitcase (not a smart thing to be without in March in Michigan). Christmas was in December, yet she had five presents for each girl. Um, we have lots of toys here; it's a house with little kids. The girls tore into the gifts after their naptime. Turns out that most of them were actually activities that Grandma wanted to do during her visit. Very clever.

From there, everything she said and did was rubbing me the wrong way for about the next 24 hours. I took every opportunity to mention to L how irritated I was with this, that and the other. That went over like a lead balloon.

As my head started to clear from the cold, my cloud of negativity did too. I realized that the girls were having a blast, she loves them more than life itself, and life is too short not to embrace every moment with loved ones.

Somehow, after that, everything we did with Grandma was much more fun for me. Gee, I wonder why.

Mom manners

2009-03-03T10:53:00.000-08:00

Every once in a while, a social situation arises that requires more than just average manners: It requires mom manners, that extra level of balancing politeness with assertiveness. Jellybean had a (thankfully short) bout with croup last week, and it might have been avoided had I been willing to trample on some "mom" social graces.

The girls and I were at the library last week for our weekly story time. It was spring break, so it was more crowded than usual. After the story, we sat down at a play table that had these way cool blocks on it. We were doing some serious stacking and building, and another mom and her two older kids came to the table to get in on the action. We happily slid some blocks their way.

Less than a minute passed before the girl, who I would peg at 4 or 5, began to cough. She did not cover her mouth, and in fact, with the table being pretty small, her coughs actually hit Jellybean and me in the face. I thought, "Oh, next time she coughs, she'll remember to cover her mouth." Wrong. More than 20 coughs into it, neither she nor her mom made any mention or effort to cover the girl's mouth. (I wasn't thrilled, and I was even less thrilled that shortly after the other kids' arrival, my girls had about 10 blocks between them of a 62-piece set. But I'm not writing about sharing -- that's for another day.)

I am not a germophobe by nature. But, I am pretty practical and know that coughs that hit you in the face are definitely sending something your way -- infectious or not. I had three choices in the moment, all of which had consequences:

1. Make my girls drop the blocks and walk away to play something else. Consequence: My kids are upset (potentially loudly so -- in the library!) and don't get to play, as a result of someone else's negligence. Next option.

2. Ask the little girl to please cover her mouth. Judging from her verbal ability and dexterity, she was old enough to know better and could effectively do so. Consequence: Asking/ordering someone else's kid to do something is not the most polite thing to do. What else?

3. Ask the mother to have her daughter cover her mouth when she coughs. Consequence: Offending the mom, being rude and telling her how to handle her kids. Could be ugly.

So, what did I do? I did nothing. When we were done playing, I took the girls straight to the bathroom and we washed our hands.

A few nights later, when I was up cradling Jellybean in my arms at 1:30 a.m. while she barked like a seal, I couldn't help but think of that instance. It's no guarantee she caught croup from that little girl, but there was no exposure from anyone we know, including preschool.

From now on in a situation like that, rude shmude. I'm looking out for my kids, and if I make someone mad who I'll never see again, so be it!

Plight of the youngest child

2009-02-26T11:54:00.000-08:00

Peanut is almost 22 months old -- the age that Jellybean was when Peanut was born. For some reason, I see this as a milestone worthy of introspection.

I remember being so glad and relieved that little Jellybean was in a baby-loving phase as my belly expanded with Peanut. "Oh please, let this phase continue until this baby is born," I thought at the time. As it turns out, the phase did continue -- until about the time Peanut could pull herself up to stand and get in Jellybean's business -- and Jellybean hugged and kissed her baby sister every chance she got.

Now, I see that Peanut is fascinated with babies. She points out every baby she sees and says, "Aww, she's cute." Or, "Isn't she sweet?" When Jellybean was that age, I could say things like, "Soon we'll have a baby at our house," and she would be excited. I can't help but be a little sad for Peanut, that she won't have the chance to have a real baby at her house. We're done having babies at our house. Never say never, but I can't conceive of (pun intended) how it would happen.

It's ironic to me that I feel a bit sad for Peanut about the lack of a younger sibling for her. I used to feel sad for Jellybean that she WOULD have a younger sibling. Toward the end of my pregnancy with Peanut, hormones blazing, I used to cry about how Jellybean was going to have her little world turned upside down when we brought the new baby home. There certainly were a few moments that Jellybean felt like that, but now and ever since, she always wants to know where Peanut is and how she's doing. They love each other more than I can comprehend.

Which brings me back to my original train of thought. Why should I feel sad for Peanut? She has it pretty good. No one is going to suddenly enter her life and take over Mom and Dad's attention for months on end -- not to mention cry in the night to be fed or scream the whole time in the bath tub. In the meantime, she can dote on all the babies we see -- and there will soon be a new one in our neighborhood, in addition to the sweet 8-month-old behind us. She can also continue taking care of all the babies in our house, rocking them and putting them night-night. I think she actually has the best of both worlds.

And don't try to say the sadness I feel for her is actually MY sadness. I have what I can handle with two kids, and I know that. I also like to sleep all night.

The new Facebook

2009-02-22T09:41:00.001-08:00

L and I have been into Facebook now for a few months. We frequently discuss it around the house, as in, "Now I'm friends with such-and-such on Facebook..."

Apparently, the kids have noticed our conversations about Facebooking (yes, it's a verb, because "social networking" just doesn't capture it). Peanut came up to me this morning and said, "I want Facebook." I was like, "What?"

She ran away and returned clutching a board book in her hands. "Mama, read Facebook please." So, there you have it: Here is Facebook for the under-4 set. Now I know why this book has been incorporated into so much playing lately. They think they're Facebooking!

A patchwork dilemma

2009-02-19T10:48:00.000-08:00

Jellybean has a blanket that she loves. She sleeps with it every night and at every nap. It's not just a blanket; it's a handmade quilt that L's grandma made when L was a baby. It's the perfect size, it's pretty and it's warm. But, it's falling apart and needs repair desperately.

We used to cover Jellybean with it in her crib when she was little, in a rotation with some other handmade blankets from our childhoods. Over time, it became clear that the quilt was her favorite of all her baby blankets. When we moved her to the big-girl bed about a year ago, she insisted that the quilt stay with her. So it has. And it goes on trips with us so she can have it wherever she sleeps (L and I call it her "Linus blanket," although it's not quite that extreme). When she wakes up in the morning, she comes to our room carrying her bear and the quilt. You can see it in the picture where she's sleeping in bed, and it's on her lap in the car seat.

The quilt was already worn, ahem, well loved, when we started using it in her crib. It had some slight tears and frayed edges. Now, several of the patchwork squares are threadbare down to the batting. Other parts of the structure have tears, and the stitchwork on the back panel is slowly coming undone.

My next-door neighbor is a fantastic seamstress and talented quilter. She has a quilting circle that meets regularly, and I've talked to her about finding someone to repair the quilt. She knows people and is willing to make that happen for me.

However, there are short-term and long-term problems with getting the quilt repaired, not the least of which: 1. Jellybean will be without the quilt for some time while it's being fixed. 2. The quilt will be different when it returns -- different fabrics and not as soft from all the wear.

So, do I wait until Jellybean outgrows the need for the quilt, possibly a couple more years, and risk damage to a family heirloom? Or, do we tear off the Band-Aid quickly now, so we can save the blanket but possibly crush a sensitive 3-year-old and her security?

Especially heart-y

2009-02-16T10:42:00.001-08:00

For the first time since I was a kid, I allowed myself to get completely swept up in the Valentine's spirit this year. In fact, a midday visit to the grocery store on the 14th gave me a new perspective that will officially convert me from a V-Day cynic for years to come.

I had more advance preparation than ever for Valentine's Day this year because of Jellybean and her preschool activities. I had her write her own name on her Valentines for her classmates, so we started with that project early in the week to get them completed by Thursday. Her enthusiasm about giving a cheap little piece of cardboard to each of her classmates made it hard for me to grumble internally about the commercial concoction that is February 14.

She did all kinds of Valentine art projects at preschool in the preceding days -- all with lots of pink and lots of hearts. My favorite, though, was a card that she decorated with her photo and stickers. She instructed the teachers to write on it, "I love you Mommy and Daddy." It was the simplest yet sweetest thing. How can I be cynical about THAT?

Peanut was very into Valentine's Day too; as long as the celebrating included eating occasional candy treats and coloring with markers on a regular basis, she was in. She called it "Valen-times," which I thought appropriate seeing as how all our prep and build-up were taking almost a week! Good times, Valentimes.

So, even before the 14th, I was sort of in the Valentine mode and not fighting it as I have in the past. But once I got to the grocery store that afternoon (to buy a cake mix and pink frosting and cake decorations -- what is going on with me?!), I became a huge fan of Valentine's Day. The parking lot was so full that I had to wait my turn for a spot. As I was waiting, I watched people pouring into the store. I saw college girls with bouquets of flowers, -- I thought college boys preferred DE-flowering, myself -- anxious men bolting for the florist line (which was about 20 people deep inside the store) and parents holding their children's hands as the latter bounded into the store. And it hit me: Look at all these people going out of their way to show friends and loved ones that they care.

There are wars, both literal and figurative, transpiring all over the world. Financial markets are in shambles. Politics in our country have been bitterly divided. Conflicts going on and on. But on February 14, a whole lot of people in the U.S. felt a whole lot of love. Hallmark should be so proud.

Now we're cookin'

2009-02-12T04:20:00.000-08:00

Cooking blog posts are a bit "happy homemaker," but so be it, I am one! I'm not the sort to seek out new recipes and open up a test kitchen, but I've happened upon good recipes that are very easy to prepare and make a yummy meal. Thought I'd share them. They cover the range of food preferences, so there's something for everyone.

This one tastes elaborate and rich with a spicy kick, but it's SO easy. Thank God for Crock-Pots. I've had the best luck with this when I soak the black beans in water for an hour or more first. This is from Real Simple magazine.

Beer-braised pork and black bean soup

2 12-ounce bottles of beer (preferably lager)
1 tablespoon chopped canned chipotle chilies in adobo sauce, plus 1 tablespoon adobo sauce
1 teaspoon ground cumin
1 large onion, chopped
1 pound dried black beans, rinsed
1 1/2 pounds boneless pork butt (pork shoulder)
Kosher salt
1/2 cup sour cream
1/2 cup store-bought refrigerated fresh salsa
1/4 cup fresh cilantro

In the bowl of a slow cooker, combine the beer, 3 cups water, the chilies, adobo sauce, cumin, onion, beans, pork, and 1 1/2 teaspoons salt. Set the slow cooker to high and cook, covered, until the beans are tender and the pork pulls apart easily, 4 to 5 1/2 hours. Using a fork, separate the pork into large pieces. Divide among individual bowls and top with the sour cream, salsa, and cilantro.

Here's another Real Simple recipe that takes 20 minutes start to finish (really!). The textures and flavors in this are restaurant quality.

Lemony shrimp with white beans and couscous

1 10-ounce box couscous (1 1/2 cups)
Kosher salt and black pepper
3 tablespoons unsalted butter
2 cloves garlic, chopped
4 scallions, chopped
1 pound medium shrimp, peeled and deveined
1 15.5-ounce can cannellini beans, rinsed
1/2 cup fresh flat-leaf parsley
2 tablespoons fresh lemon juice

In a saucepan, bring 2 cups water to a boil. Stir in the couscous and 1/4 teaspoon salt. Cover and let sit off heat for 5 minutes; fluff with a fork before serving.

Meanwhile, heat 1 tablespoon of the butter in a large skillet over medium-high heat. Add the garlic and scallions and cook for 30 seconds. Add the shrimp and cook, stirring, until they begin to turn pink, about 3 minutes.

This soup, from Mario Batali, is thickened with bread -- hence, the name. You can use whatever vegetables you have on hand. It is much more flavorful than the separate ingredients would seem.

Bread Soup (Zuppa di Pane)

•	1-½ cup chopped mixed fresh herbs, such as marjoram, thyme, basil, mint, arugula, and Italian parsley

•	2 medium zucchini, cut into ½-inch dice

•	8 ounces green beans, tops and tails removed and cut into 1-inch lengths

•	1 pound russet potatoes, peeled and cut into 1-inch chunks

•	2 ripe tomatoes, peeled and coarsely chopped

•	1 spanish onion, cut into ¼-inch dice

•	1 clove garlic, crushed

•	8 cups cold water

•	Salt

•	Two 1-inch-thick slices thick Italian peasant bread, crusts removed

•	½ small dried hot chile pepper or 1 teaspoon hot red pepper flakes

•	Freshly ground black pepper

•	½ cup extra-virgin olive oil

Preparation

1. In a large pot, combine 1 cup of the herbs, the zucchini, green beans, potatoes, tomatoes, onion, garlic, and cold water. Add salt to taste and bring to a boil over high heat. Reduce the heat to medium-low and cook, covered, until the potatoes are tender, 20 to 25 minutes.

2. Meanwhile, soak the bread briefly in water to cover, then squeeze to get rid of excess liquid.

3. Crumble the bread and add it to the soup, along with the chile pepper. Cook, stirring with a wooden spoon, until the bread has broken down and thickened the soup, about 10 minutes. Season with salt and pepper to taste.

4. Ladle the soup into bowls, drizzle with the olive oil, and sprinkle with the remaining ½ cup chopped herbs.

Oh, what a beautiful morning

2009-02-10T05:58:00.000-08:00

I was up really late last night, compelled by a very close basketball game. It took me a long time to calm down enough to sleep, so I was up until about 1 a.m.

Jellybean woke up early this morning (of course! Murphy's law of little kids) and came into the room before 7. She climbed into bed with me and said, "Tell me about baby chickens."

Huh?

I was still in a sleepy fog and she was persistent, so I managed to force my mouth form to words about, of all things, baby chickens.

About 25 minutes later, Peanut started chattering in her crib. I opened the door to her room, and without missing a beat, Peanut looked at me and said, "Watch this. Pbbbllllltttttt." She proceeded with some of the gnarliest raspberries I'd ever heard. She must have been working on those all night in her sleep. Quite the accomplishment.

Goes to show, you never know what goes through their little minds.

Misters and Misses

2009-02-07T06:16:00.000-08:00

My girls, particularly Jellybean, have become fascinated with the Roger Hargreaves "Mr." and "Little Miss" books. Remember those from your childhood? They've been reissued, probably targeted at people like me who had them as a kid. I kept my old ones, so we have a few that mention non-PC things like cigars (gasp!).

Which got me thinking that it's time for a new group of Misters and Misses. Here are a few contemporary ones I've come up with while reading the old ones to my kids. I would love to write these and have them illustrated -- but then I would get my ass sued off, I'm sure. Wish I was arty, and I would have given you a visual concept of these. Feel free to add your own:

Mr. Postal
Mr. Metrosexual
Mr. Has Been
Mr. Pundit
Mr. Phobia
Mr. Debt
Mr. Chronic (thank you, Michael Phelps, for the inspiration)
Mr. Loser
Mr. Gangsta
Mr. Hipster
Mr. Workaholic
Mr. Playa

Little Miss People Pleaser
Little Miss Granola
Little Miss Famous
Little Miss Blogger
Little Miss Neurosis
Little Miss Manolos
Little Miss Diva
Little Miss Vegan
Little Miss Co-Dependent
Little Miss CEO
Little Miss Slut

Winter update

2009-02-03T11:15:00.000-08:00

This is my fifth full winter of living in Michigan. And I can proudly say that it is my best winter here. Why? I credit my attitude 100%.

I decided last fall that I would work as hard as I could to embrace and accept the winter here as part of life -- instead of fighting it, cursing it and dreading it. (Actually, now that I'm looking back at that fall entry, I realize I have used the word "resolve," which puts me in a contrary position to another recent entry. Ahh, well. You can't win 'em all.)

So back to my "win" on the winter front. I have sailed through this winter, taking in stride even the coldest, most miserable days (more on that in a second). The girls and I have played outside in the snow and ice as much as possible. They have loved every minute. And I have loved them loving it. See, they're Michigan girls, unlike me. But I'm working on it.

And, I actually have found it funny -- in a "ha ha" way, not in a cynical torture way, for once -- that the winter I have chosen to embrace and accept is on track to be the coldest winter on record since 1880 and so far has the most snowfall ever for the period ending January 31. We have more snow on the ground than I've ever seen in my life. And I'm not bitching! I'm smiling.

Don't get me wrong, I won't be sad when spring arrives. But I also won't start my winter dread for NEXT winter on the first warm day -- yes, this has been my MO in the past, no wonder I couldn't stand it!

Cutting the cord

2009-01-30T18:41:00.000-08:00

I'm talking about phones, not babies. It's been about a month since L and I decided to drop our landline in favor of cell only. I always said I would never do it, but never say never.

Our cordless phone was dying a slow death, so we knew we'd need to replace it. At the same time, I needed a new cell phone because I hated my other one. It pained me to spend extra money just to have more phones that ring in the house, so we decided to go for it on the exclusive cell thing.

I thought it would be a big transition. Turns out, not at all. It's actually nice to have my "main" phone with me wherever I go. Then I don't have to worry that preschool might be trying to track me down or that I could be missing some other such hypothetical emergency.

The best result out of the switch is that L and I have discovered texting (I know, welcome to freakin' 2009). It was awesome during the holidays at family gatherings, L and I and L's brother doing running commentary under the radar amidst everyone. But it has been convenient in many other situations when talking out loud wasn't an option yet we needed to communicate.

I have had a couple etiquette struggles, though, so I need to make some rules for myself. I was at the library one day chatting with a woman I think is so cool, and my best friend was calling on my cell. That was a toughie -- I don't get to talk to either of them as much as I'd like, and there I was caught. I was able to find a way to transition each conversation and talk to both of them, and last I checked, they're both still speaking with me, so I guess it was all right.

The reason I thought I'd never drop the landline was safety. I wanted to have a phone available at all times to grab and dial 911 -- also that my kids could do the same. We do have phones, they're just not connected to the wall. We have set locations for the phones, and I'm teaching my kids our address since 911 doesn't auto-locate on cell phones (can you tell I used to work at the phone company?).

So now we're free of all phone constraints! And we pay less every month. Text me, and I'll tell you all about it!

Only child, mother of two

2009-01-27T10:42:00.000-08:00

So far in my parenting life, with two little girls, I have amassed quite a lot of skills. The newborn stuff is down pat, babies crawling and walking I'm pretty good at, and I'm honing my toddler skills each hour. However, my life experience has a gigantic gaping hole in it that I could really stand to draw from right now: sibling life.

I am an only child. I like it this way because I really don't know any different. My life has been wonderful and quite blessed. But what I haven't learned enough of is what it's like to live with a sibling -- kind of critical information being a mother of two.

L's brother is six years younger, so he has a few insights, but definitely not insights that involve siblings close in age. Most of my friends are siblings, so I've gleaned a fair amount of info just from observing over the years.

Here's where you come in: I'm looking for your tips. You can post them here, e-mail them to me, tell me, whatever's easiest. If you grew up with a sibling close to your age, tell me what your parents did that you liked. Tell me what they did that you didn't like. Did you get the same presents? Do the same activities? Share a room?

Help a sister (get it?) out here. I'd love to hear from you.

The great Desitin caper

2009-01-25T10:28:00.000-08:00

Everyone has that story from when they were a little kid that relatives and friends retell into adulthood. It involves an ornery three-, four- or five-year-old smearing [insert your favorite sticky substance here] all over the floor/walls/couch and creating a disaster zone of permanent stains.

My particular story from my childhood involved ketchup and Italian dressing, but I was mostly an accomplice. I had always wondered when one of my children would have their epic moment, and I think it happened last night.

We had a babysitter so L and I could go hear Greg Mortenson (as in, Three Cups of Tea) give a talk and then solve the problems of the world over dinner with friends. This particular sitter has been here before, she's a college student, and we were very confident. We were at dinner at about 8:15 when the cell phone rang, and it was the dreaded call from the babysitter. I braced for having to ditch the restaurant for the emergency room as I answered the phone. Luckily, what she had to say ended up making for great dinner fodder, and very little harm was done.

She had put Jellybean to bed after Peanut was asleep. Things seemed to be going well, but the sitter heard Jellybean talking animatedly on the monitor. She opened the door to Jellybean's room, and Jellybean announced to her, "My hands are dirty." What Jellybean failed to mention, and luckily the sitter turned on the light to discover, was that it wasn't just her hands that were dirty. It was her face, her hair, her pajamas, her bear, her sheet, her comforter and her wall that were dirty. All covered with Desitin.

In case you're not familiar with Desitin, it is used to prevent diaper rash on kids. Put it this way: When you were at that pool party and you wore your wet swim suit/trunks all day and got all chafed, that wouldn't have happened if you had Desitin on.

So, the sitter was calling us at dinner to see if I thought Jellybean might have eaten the Desitin, since it was on her face. Jellybean wasn't sayin'. The sitter had read the label, and you're supposed to call Poison Control if you ingest Desitin. I felt pretty confident that eating Desitin wasn't something Jellybean would do, so I just told the sitter to keep an eye and ear out for the next hour until we got home, and to call me if anything strange happened.

We came home to a quiet house without further incident. The babysitter had cleaned Jellybean's face and hands, changed her pajamas and gave her new covers. She couldn't have handled it better -- and she even said she's willing to babysit again. Phew!

For the work we avoided on the front end of this, we made up for on the back end, this morning. I Googled stain removal with Desitin (wow, are there many a Desitin-ruined garment and couch out there) and proceeded into stain-removal mode. Because it is a water repellent, you have to treat the stains like you would grease or oil. I spent about 45 minutes doctoring the various surfaces and laundering things. The stains didn't come out completely, but now they're a lot less obvious. L got most of the Desitin off the wall, but you can still see a bit of residue.

The story from my childhood -- now known as the Great Ketchup Caper -- ended much worse, with my parents' neighbors having to replace their brand-new (as in, installed the day before) carpet. My parents offered to help pay for it, but the neighbors knew it was their own son who had inflicted the damage while I mostly served as witness.

I am hoping, though, that once word spreads about the Great Desitin Caper, maybe we can shelve the Ketchup Caper story once and for all. I'm tired of hearing it.

One for the ages

2009-01-21T11:02:00.001-08:00

Plenty has been said about the significance of yesterday's presidential inauguration. It was one for the ages. But was it one for the ages of... 3 1/2 and 1 1/2? In our house, the answer was "yes."

I broke my cardinal rule of no TV during the day, and during lunch the girls sat front and center of the TV to watch the oaths and speeches. They know who the president and the first family are by name and sight, and they seemed to glean at least a little comprehension of what was happening.

I love that when they witnessed those events, they saw a president and his family, not a black president and his black family. Obama stands for hope and change, and if yesterday was any indication, those things are coming.

I knew the inauguration made an impression when I was getting Peanut ready for her nap shortly afterward. She said, "Barack O-mama goin' night-night." She went to sleep with the president on her mind.

Analyze this

2009-01-19T17:25:00.000-08:00

My kids definitely have brought out the best in me most of the time. But over the years, I have discovered I had been harboring some pet peeves that I had no idea I possessed -- until I had kids.

I have overcome some of these pet peeves in just a short time. It didn't take me long to get over my aversion to clutter, for example, when our tiny house (at the time) was packed to the gills with a baby play gym, swing, bouncy seat, and on and on. And that was just in the living room. Now that there are two kids flinging their toys about the (albeit bigger) house, it's a darn good thing clutter doesn't get to me anymore.

I also have grown to enjoy naked babies running around the house instead of wincing in anticipation of any leaks they may spring without a diaper on. We've had leaks of all varieties, believe me, and it turns out that although a bit gross, they're pretty easy to clean up. Having hardwood floors doesn't hurt in that regard, either.

So, which pet peeves have I clung to? Two of them come to mind.

1. Damage to books. Tearing pages, bending covers, dog-earing, all make me crazy. If I even have an inkling that a book is about to suffer, I swoop in immediately and take it away. The only way I can explain this is that my grade school librarian must have scared the bejesus out of us for doing anything to the school library books. Board books have saved me many a time.

2. Toys missing pieces. I was an only child and fairly orderly. I always knew where all parts to all of my toys were. I would be appalled at other kids' houses when their puzzles were missing pieces or toy sets were lacking a vital component. How could they let that happen? Well, now as a mother of two, I know that it can (and does) happen all the time, even when we're being careful. However, I just can't seem to get over hating it. I'm hoping time and desensitization will foster a cure.

Do I lack resolve?

2009-01-15T11:42:00.000-08:00

New Year's resolutions have been flying at me everywhere I've turned so far this year: the newspaper, TV (is anyone else tired of Oprah and her "wagon?") and especially on the internet. People are resolving that 2009 is the year they will morph into everything they've always wanted to be -- or so it seems. To their credit, many of my blogger friends and Facebook friends have written quality missives about their personal goals.

So, why haven't I? I don't have any resolutions. Is that wrong? Is that bad? Ironically, all the hype has made me question myself in that regard. I've thought about it, and really I'm the only person who can decide if it's bad not to be spouting my goals for the world to know. And I think it's just fine. It's all right to think that I'm good enough and smart enough. And there are even a few people who like me, gosh darn it.

After the ongoing discussions through the past few decades about equal rights and feminism and women's liberation, I feel like I'm in the minority by being a woman who is happy with myself and my life without any major changes. Don't get me wrong -- I know I'm not the perfect person, and I can always improve on managing my friendships, taking time for my husband, writing more for myself, cleaning my house, learning to use my sewing machine, and a few other things. And I'm struggling lately to motivate myself to even step outside to get the mail because it's been so frigidly cold. But I don't feel like I've ever needed (and hope I never will) the kinds of transformations I've been bombarded with in this year's press about resolutions.

I always have goals, some small and some longer-term. My caffeinated beverage experiment was one of the longer-term plans, and we're still in the midst of the Kleenex project. I guess I just don't need a calendar to tell me to connect with myself and check in with how my life is going so far.

On a semi-related note, I can't help but wonder how much of the New Year's resolution hype this year has been brought on by the financial crisis. Are we covering up our collective financial pain with focusing more inwardly? Could be, and time will tell.

First post of 2009

2009-01-13T11:14:00.000-08:00

Before you go thinking I'm a slacker for taking until the 13th to post in the new year, let me make my excuses. 1. We were staying with family in the Midwest until Sunday. 2. Said family has unacceptably slow internet access on an ancient computer. 3. A few days, L and I were in San Diego and we had to be outside too much to blog (tragic, I know). 4. When we did finally get back home -- more on the length of our trip in a minute -- we were up to our waists in laundry, mail and grocery shopping. Until now.

So, now that I'm done with excuses, let me do the unthinkable at this time of year and reflect backwards (as opposed to resolving and such for the new year) on our holidays.

We had a good time. We saw our families and were festive and merry and all that. For about three days. Then, we were just there Way. Too. Long. Kids went from sleeping all right to sleeping terribly (and hence so did we). Our parents' quirks went from amusing to tolerable to un-freakin-believably annoying.

But most of that, aside from the sleeping, just affected L and me. The girls LOVED their grandparents and vice versa. They laughed and played and took it all in. That made it worth the above mentioned struggles.

Probably my favorite moment from the whole trip happened at Christmas dinner. My mother-in-law played host to 12 people (which meant that most of the hosting duties fell to L and his brother). She insisted that we have a sit-down dinner with this amalgamation of about four families. We were all enjoying our meal tamely, and Peanut breaks into her 1-year-old rendition of "Jingle Bells." By the time she got to "hey!" the whole table was singing. Now THAT'S the Christmas spirit.

So now back to 2009. Because of our impending travels and all the other things we were doing, I didn't quite do a holiday card. Well, truthfully, I haven't done one since... ever. So, do you think it's too late to do a card with a letter and stuff? Will that just seem strange? Or can I spin it into a Happy New Year thing and not seem like a freak?