This number has changed

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

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

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

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.