Munch-chi-chis

In our house, a lot of life revolves around food. Who wants what snack, who is going to want what for dinner, you know, typical obsessive-compulsive food disorder. What I didn't realize is that AK has already become accustomed to this lifestyle.

The other day we were in Whole Foods and I grabbed a bag of Veggie Straws to put in the cart as a "special snack."*

As I put the bag in the cart, AK started freaking out. She was no longer content with the Cheerios her sister was doling out from a baggie she had found in my pocketbook.

She is ONE YEAR OLD, has had veggie straws maybe three times in her life and yet SHE RECOGNIZED THE BAG and became insistent, to the point of annoying the entire store, that she needed a veggie straw right now.

LP was no help. She was excited at the prospect of me having to open the bag of veggie straws in the store, knowing that once open there was no going back and both she and her sister would be able to happily munch away. In fact, to speed the process, she started to casually dump Cheerios on to the floor one at a time in a way that she thought was secretive.

Yesterday, AK's daily sheet said, "Please consider sending different snacks for AK. She is no longer content with the [school provided] Cheerios and throws them on the floor."

*"Special snacks" are a mommy's best friend. Basically, they are a form of bribery, "LP if you are a good girl, what special snack do you want me to put in your lunch box?" If she isn't being good, we can threaten to remove the special snack and we usually end up with a much more agreeable child.

Going in Circles

When my alarm went off this morning, I didn't want to get out of bed.

But I did.

I was at my desk by 7:45, checking my email and doing various tasks. At 8:31 my phone rang. It was the Hoos. I was about to tell him how impressed I was, assuming he was placing his daily call to me after dropping off the girls. This would definitely have been an early day for him.

Fortunately, I didn't.

Instead the Hoos told me that he had locked himself and the girls out of the house. In the pouring rain. Somehow he grabbed their bags, set the alarm, and walked out the door, holding two adorably rain-gear clad munchkins, without his house keys. Only realizing his mistake after pulling the door shut behind him.

As soon as he called I jumped into the car and headed home (a 25 mile drive). My benevolent boss told me to take my computer and just work from home. The Hoos and the girls sought refuge in the garage and they had an adventure, riding the tricycle and kiddy car around the garage in circles, taking turns.

Sadly, this is the third mishap in three weeks involving the garage. First, my car died in the garage; last week, one of the springs on the garage door opener snapped, locking my car inside (my big, strong husband was able to rescue it, but we haven't gotten around to replacing the spring yet); and now this. At least the garage was a friend this time, offering my little family shelter from the storm.

Keeping Us Honest

The Hoos and I are not particularly religious. We observe and celebrate the major Jewish holidays and our traditions and values are defined by Judaism. We were both raised in kosher homes (two sets of dishes and silverware, kosher meat, no pork products, no mixing of milk and meat, etc.) and have always said that we would like to keep kosher "at some point," which has yet to be defined.

On Fridays I typically buy a challah and make a little nicer meal than usual and we "do" Shabbat. This involves lighting candles and saying some prayers.

We have never sat down and taught LP any of the prayers, but hearing them almost weekly for a couple of years she has picked them up and she does her best to sing and chant along with us. It is very cute.

This past Friday was a really long day. It was gray and rainy and after taking both LP and AK to the doctor for check-ups and meeting the Hoos at his office for lunch, I didn't have the time or energy to make a big meal (or to pick up a challah). Instead, I made a vegetable soup and used some leftover Italian bread to make "cheesy bread" as an accompaniment.

As the Hoos and I prepared to eat, LP screwed up her little face and asked, "Is it Shabbat?"

What could we do except pull out the candlesticks, use the heel of the bread as a makeshift challah and comply?

For those of you that saw a half post, sorry. I was distracted and posted before finishing. Long story. Maybe for tomorrow.

Daredevil

Scene from bathtime...

"AIM! When did AK learn to stand up without holding on?! And why is she doing it in the BATHTUB?!"

Scene from the beach...

"AK! Stop eating sand! AK! Stop crawling away at a rapid pace aiming for other people's food (or the water or the bike path)!

Scene from the backyard...

"AK! You can't climb in and out of the kiddy pool by yourself! AK! It usually takes two years of swimming lessons for kids to stick their face in the water, you are giving mommy a heart attack!"

This kid might just be the death of me. She is so adventurous, while simultaneously so adorable, that I have no idea how to deal with her. She sedates me with her smile.

Lessons in Grace

In the fall, LP will be taking "Introduction to Pre Ballet" with some of her girlfriends. As beautiful and wonderful and lovely as we think she is, we know that baby girl is not the most dainty of children.


Here she is practicing her moves.

Last of the Mohicans

Today is the Hoos' birthday. If you are counting, this is the third birthday celebration in our home in seven days. You can tell that mama is running out of steam.

1. LP (May 28) had cupcakes and a party at the zoo for her birthday.
2. AK (June 1) had her grandparents over for grilled steak and fish tacos and store-bought ice cream cookie sandwiches the day before her birthday and homemade blueberry muffins on her birthday.
3. The Hoos (June 4) is getting a marble poundcake from Stew's. To be fair, he really likes this, but it is also low effort. Dinner might be ordered in.

Word on the street is that living with three Geminis is supposed to make me crazy. But, I liked having maternity leave during the summer and we got lucky. No, I didn't think the girls' birthdays would only be four days apart, but yes, I am counting on having joint birthday parties if and whenever possible.

As for the Hoos, I think he is hoping his birthday will be overshadowed by LP's and AK's. It won't mean he will stop having them, but at least he won't be reminded that he is growing older.

Happy Birthday, Hoos!

Not Your Mama's Blog

Yesterday I was listening to the news and reading on the Internet about Dr. George Tiller. A Kansas doctor that performed late-term abortions that was murdered in church over the weekend. It made me sad, disgusted, angry, and, ultimately thankful.

I am not going to rehash all of the details of the controversy surrounding Dr. Tiller, but what stuck out for me was, despite being threatened, shot, bombed, arrested, indicted and emotionally wrung over the coals for the better part of his career, this man felt so strongly that he was doing the right thing, that he stuck it out. He felt, in his heart of hearts, he was performing a vital service for the women in Kansas and the surrounding states. What a wonderful man he must have been.

Many women seeking late term abortions are those that really, really don't want to have to have one: parents who found out after a 20-week ultrasound that their child was not developing normally, mothers diagnosed with cancer that need chemotherapy as soon as possible, children pregnant through horrible circumstances. These people are making what must be one of the most difficult decisions of their lives. Some argue that it probably isn't much of a decision (you can read all about some of the horrific fetal defects elsewhere, I don't want to think too hard about them), but without dedicated doctors like Dr. Tiller, there wouldn't be any option at all.

About 99% of my blog posts are included in my annual "blog scrapbook," the books I print to capture the silly stories, timely photos and memories I publish here. Every once in a while, a post comes along that I just don't think is necessary to include in that type of keepsake. When I initially set out to write this post, I was confident it would be excluded. Now I am not so sure.

Question Everything

LP is at the point in her little life where she is constantly asking questions.

One favorite line of questioning revolves around "When you were little" as in, "Mommy, when you were little did you have accidents? When you were teeny did you used to go on the carousel? When you were little did someone read you books?" And on and on.

The other night as we played the baby animal game (what's a baby...pig? what's a baby...goat?), she mixed it up a bit, "Mommy, how do goats wipe when they poop? How do elephants wipe when they poop? How do giraffes..." Again, this went on and on, despite the fact that I told her animals don't have hands and can't and don't really wipe anyway.

She doesn't just reserve questions for me or the Hoos. She is pretty nosy, actually and will ask anyone she encounters random questions. Which scares the beejezus out of me since it makes me think of my now 11 year old niece asking my dad if he had a [boy part] when she was around LP's age. I apologize in advance.

Busting at the Seams

I love birthdays. I am thrilled to bits that my little girls have grown and changed and developed over the last year and I absolutely feel that it is worth celebrating with family and friends.

This year for the first time we had a birthday party for LP that included folks outside of our families. It was time for LP to have a "real" party, since she has been attending her friends' parties and was finally wise enough to ask about her own to-do.

We also changed the venue up from a backyard BBQ. Despite the fact that both of my girls are born in months where pizza in the yard would be suitable, I had to insist on a venue change. This was done for several reasons, including the inability of my home to comfortably accommodate 15 3-year-olds and their families and my inability to fathom how I would entertain the aforementioned crew for an hour and a half.

The Beardsley Zoo in Bridgeport ended up working out perfectly. At least we think everyone had a great time. And hopefully everyone took a good nap on the ride home.

Even though we did not hold the party at our home, it is still filled with stuff. Because, inevitably, as you invite more people in to your celebration, they feel obligated to bring gifts. As it was I was shoe-horning in new (but not purchased by the Hoos or me..hmm...) toys and trying to cycle out toys that haven't actually been touched in a while. Now we have approximately two dozen new toys - each with what seems to be at least two dozen parts that require space.

I am not trying to sound ungrateful. In fact, I spent Sunday evening writing thank you notes. We are very thankful and appreciative. LP is over the moon with her good fortune. I am just being a mom. It's my job.

Oddly enough, after opening a handful of gifts the other day, LP just suddenly stopped. When I handed her the next wrapped gift in the pile, she shook her head and said, "I don't want to open it." I tried a different present, "Nope, I'm done."

This is weird, right? Do other kids just decide to stop opening gifts? She did open them eventually, but it took some cajoling.

One Singular Sensation

One year ago today, I was experiencing unfortunate bladder control issues. At the time, it sucked. In retrospect, totally worth it.

Because, one year ago tonight, after two and a half hours of drug-free labor, the most beautiful, happiest, snuggliest little girl, popped her way in to the world.

I know some people stop after having one child because they couldn't imagine loving another child as much as they love their first. We couldn't imagine not having AK. She has brought such fullness to our lives. To see her interact with LP (both in positive and negative ways) makes my life more complete.

When we are out and about, AK smiles at everyone she sees, bringing brightness to the lives of complete strangers. To actually know her and have her in my life is a blessing.