wish granted

Whenever Claire climbs onto the couch she quickly demands "I need blanket!"

Whether Sesame Street is on the agenda or thumbing through "Rella" books, blankets are a necessity.

So, when Claire was adamant on this day, we gave her the biggest blanket in the house. 

Be careful what you wish for.

We think we're so funny.

lamentation

I will be very mournful when Hallie replaces the darling word "rawried" with the more socially-acceptable version of "worried."

It will be a sad day when they stop sitting in cardboard boxes pretending to drive to Target.

Things will get really tough for me when Play-do loses its wonder.

When making "ga-na-na bread" (Claire) stops being as exciting as Disneyland itself, I will cry into my pillow.

When they don't ditch me at the library and run straight for the Lego table, I'll know they're getting bigger.

When my family room stops being decorated like this, I will long to impale my foot on Care Bears.

When preschool graduation turns into college graduation (there WILL be college graduation), I will lean my gray-haired head on Chris's shoulder and cry quiet tears.

When we can't get them to laugh in pictures by acting like fools falling over ourselves, we won't know what to do.

And as silly as it sounds, I am so happy that I can get so sad about these things. 

I ruined band-aids

In what I thought was a brilliant piece of parenting, when Claire went in for two-year-old shots I told her Nurse Sue was going to give her band-aids.  She did.  But not before she gouged her chubby leg flesh with four needles.  For two weeks afterward, Claire would grow weepy and recall "Sue gave me band-aids, Mommy!  Sue gave me band-aids!  I don't like band-aids!"  Here we are, two months later, and Claire is deathly afraid of band-aids.  She must associate them with pinching pain.  If she skins her knees (which she does frequently) she will gladly flaunt chunky scabs and skip a band-aid.  One night, I thought that I would help her conquer her fear through immersion.  So, without warning, I plopped a pink princess band-aid over perfectly smooth baby skin.  She was terrified.  She bawled and begged for me to "hold her band-aid" so she couldn't see it.  I grew so tired of gripping her leg for two hours straight that I firmly tugged it off so I wouldn't hear her terror.  This did not help matters.  So, now we have a toddler with a gisnt-sized fear of band-aids who constantly points them out on her sister with trepidation.  And that is the story of how I ruined band-aids.

Gourmet babies

Pictured above: Boxed mac and cheese and hot dogs.  An embarassingly simple meal.  Yet, a meal I longed for as a child.

Outcome: Claire finger painted with ketchup before exclaiming "All done, Mommy."

Pictured aove: Chicken pillows, twice-baked potatoes, cottage cheese and madarin oranges, cranberry sauce, green beans.

Outcome: Heartily eaten.

I am not complaining.  Just merely confused.

lessons learned while coloring

This coloring activity impressed two facts upon my little brain:

1.) Crayons + Pictures = an amazingly simple way to reconnect wth yourchild.  We chatted.  She asked questions.  She dictated letters to her grandparents about how much she loved spaghetti and how she can button her tricky pajamas all by herself.  There are honestly so many days that I go to bed and think "I spent all day with my children and I don't feel like I spent any time with them at all."  Sometimes I feel like I'm merely a sheep herder that is in charge of basic sheep protection: eat and don't get killed.  I didn't remember that the key to connecting was not in a grand craft, a trip for ice cream, or a baking spree.  Those are all wonderful  (and certainly ways to connect) but real connection doesn't have to be that grand.  It's accomplished with a box of crayons, or talking over soapy dishes, or climbing into the bottom bunk and singing songs with really wierd voices. 

2.) She smokes me at coloring.

Lucky

Sometimes long, gushing letters are appropriate.

Sometimes stating the facts is all that is necessary.

Facts: These are lucky, lucky kids, 

And I am, unworthily, the most spoiled wife I know.

Happy Father's Day Daddy!

Love, the luckiest girls in the world

The simple perfection of a picnic

Hardly any activity is as summer as a picnic is.  On this day it started off warm wih potential afternoon thunder showers.  We even had several drops fall on us.  But it stayed beautiful.  I learned to never let your children see a bag of Cheetos and expect them to eat peanut butter and jelly.  It's all over as soon as they see the orange and blue bag.  I also learned that bringing paper cups to pour water into is not acceptable.  Each child must have their own water bottle.  Period.  Hallie had a cough so I told her not to play on the playground equipment.  The gils just watched the other children play - which I thought was so noble.  They knew they were sacrificing so other kids wouldn't get sick.  The most important thing I learned was that we need to do more picnics!

Dirt

Ever since the crazy spring wind finally wained, we have been loving the dirt.  We planted a garden this year that consists of tomatoes, zucchini, squash, radishes, spinach, and green onions.  The girls have visited several nurseries with me.  And since our grass died last summer, they have a vast backyard of pure dirt to dig in.  They love it!  Who says boys are the only ones who like to get dirty?

Another thing we can't forget . . .

Claire pronounces "truck" . . . F-W-U-C-K.  Thank goodness for that "W!"

She is super animated and super loud every time she sees any "fwuck."

We crack up and cringe at the same time.

etch these in my memory

Let our permanent family record show that Hallie pronounces parmesan by saying "Carma-Johns."  I hope she says it that way forever . . . and that she never goes on dates to Italian restaurants because that would be embarassing for her.

Claire really loves to throw conjunctions into her sentences.  The most adorable part is that they are simply used to restate her orignal phrase.  Thus, awesome speeches like "I got an owie, but (hold out "but" and then pause for effect) I got an owie." And "I want a drink a milk, SO I want a drink a milk," are heard frequently throughout the day.

Nickel Pirates

One day in late May, I took my nickel pirates to the mall.  Why do I call my darling daughters nickel pirates?  Because as we stopped at a red light, they both hollered "Hey Mom!  We're pirates!"

"I pirate too!  Aargh!"

"Yo ho ho!" (Please excuse the glistening snot).

The pirates abandoned their treasures by donating to the fountain.

They made their wishes and we headed to the book store.

Hallie found exotic animals.

Clairey played toys. 

Claire had usual Dr. Jekyl/Mr. Hyde toddler behavior on this outing.  One moment she listened so well and said "Okay mommy!"  The next second she was arching and screaming on the floor.  Gotta love toddlers.

The girls split a happy meal in the food court.  I am continually surprised that they don't like typical kid fare.  They didn't touch their french fries or chicken nuggets.  They scoff at mac and cheese.  They are pretty good about peanut butter and jelly though.  I swear they would eat spaghetti, pancakes, and yogurt everyday if we would let them.

  After we came home and had a little snack, I was so delighted by how Claire ate her apples.  Look at those little teeth marks!

Our treasure this day was findding flip-flops on a 2 for $5 sale.  Claire came home with "cute polka dot sannels" and Hallie selected purple giraffe flip-flops.