Shock Value

I woke up with the girls on Sunday morning.  Before we went downstairs, both girls wanted to see John who was pretending to be asleep.  Alice kept saying, "Boo!" over and over again in the hope of scaring her father into wakefulness.  Angela took a different approach and yelled, "MOO!" at him.

I am not sure if she was shooting for shock or she got confused.  Regardless, she "woke up" daddy whose laughter could not be contained.

Why John is Most Likely Going to Buy a Gun

Given the unexpectedly beautiful November weather we are experiencing, I decided to take the girls to the park in our town.  I was not surprised by the number of people there.  I have to admit that I was a bit surprised by the number of high school kids there.  I did not have a problem with it.  I have to admit that I have always been impressed with the level of politeness displayed by the local kids.  Angela was particularly enthralled by a group of high school boys.  I noticed her keen interest while we were sitting on one of the benches having a snack.  When they moved over to the swings, Angela stood up to have a better look.

"Angela, do you like the boys?"  I asked her.

"Yes, Mama, " my two-year-old replied.  "They cute."

I am so not looking forward to the teenage years.

Self Identity

When she was younger, Alice did not say her first name.  Instead, she would just give a blank look if someone asked her name.  I was so jealous of my friends whose children would point to themselves and say, "I insert child name."  It was also very anxiety producing for a first time parent.  Well, there is a reason why the phrase "Be careful what you wish for" is a truism.  God heard my prayers.  I am now blessed with a daughter who goes up and introduces herself to EVERYONE.  Thank goodness I am not a shy person.  I would probably need major doses of anti-anxiety meds to cope with having such an extroverted daughter.

It seems like Angela is following in her sister's footsteps with one major exception.  She refers to herself as "Me" or "Me too".

"What is your name?" I asked her.

"Me."

"No, honey, what do you call yourself?" I asked again.

"Me."

I thought about it and I realized I walked right into that last one.  She wins.  I give up. 

Remedial Finger Painting

On Tuesday I had "Back to School Night" for preschool.  I knew Alice was doing great with her Kindergarten enrichment program there, but I was curious to see how Angela was doing with her "work".  As I spoke with Angela's teacher, Ms. K could not say enough about Angela's great personality and her comfort with the environment.  She was very impressed with how well and how quickly she adjusted to attending school.  However, (why is there always a 'however'?), Angela would not finger paint properly.  She will not hold her finger straight out and apply the paint with the finger pad.  Instead, Angela bends her finger such that she uses her fingernail bed as her artist's brush.

I was not surprised by this.  One of Angela's chief quirks is her dislike of anything liquid based on her hands.  She will play in the sand box for hours.  She will manipulate Play Doh with no hesitation.  But, if a drop of some liquid falls on her hands, she immediately calls for me and demands that I clean her hands off.

As I stood listening to Ms. K, I was, in fact, internally marvelling at Angela's ability to reason and adapt.  She figured out a way to finger paint without getting her hands dirty.  Had this been Alice, I would probably have freaked out and tried to find some remedial finger painting class to "correct" the problem.  Such is the joy of the second child.  You realize each child has his/her quirks and they are to be embraced.  I told Ms. K not to worry and to just give the kid a brush for painting.

I hope all parent-teacher conferences go so smoothly.

Penmenship

Until about five minutes ago, I always thought that I had excellent handwriting.

Alice and I were working together on a homework sheet for her Kindergarten enrichment class.  Together we sounded out the letters for the word "book".  As Alice paired the sounds and letters, I wrote them on a piece of paper.  Alice looked at my printed "book" and informed me that it "looked like a butt."  Misunderstanding her reference, I wrote out " B   U   T   T" on the paper next to the word "book".

"Alice, 'book' does not look like 'butt',"  I told her.

She laughed and pointed to the "oo" in book.  "Mommy, your letters look like a butt."

With new comprehension, I looked at my printed "book" and realized that Alice was correct.  I also realized that for the last (fill in the blank) years, I have apparently been mooning my readers whenever I had an "oo" word in handwritten notes.  I feel like I should blush, but to hell with modesty.  Folks should be happy it is just letters and not the real thing.

Sweetness

I admit that I am totally biased.  The subjects of this blog are my children afterall; but, I had to share some recent instances that either put a smile on my face or caused my heart to swell with emotion.

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My town only does a half day kindergarten.  Alice has the afternoon session, so she spends her mornings at her old preschool in a kindergarten enrichment program.  I felt like I had to do something school related with her as she attended three full days of preschool last year.  I did not want her inaugeration into the "big kid" school to seem like a step backward. 

I love picking Alice up for kindergarten because every day I see such an example in kindness and sweetness.  Alice gives every one of her classmates a hug before she leaves.  The first time I saw this I got rather choked up (and it had nothing to do with hormones).  It was so wonderful to see kindness to others right before me especially as it seems like news headlines are filled with the antithesis of kindness.  Today she actually chased some poor boy down because he needed to get his hug.  Alice is sweet and persistent apparently.

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Alice and Angela will definately be a force to be recokened with as they age.  I took them to a playground after school on Monday and watched them at work (or play as the case may be).  I loved how they looked out for each other.  I kind of expected Alice to keep an eye on Angela because she takes her role of "Big Sister" very seriously.  What surprised me was how Angela watched out for Alice.  Toward the end of our time at the playground, Alice started playing a game with a little boy around her age.  Angela interpreted the game as a threat to her older sister.  She kept trying to scare the boy by standing behind him, raising her arms and shouting, "BOO!!!!"  Angela should not have worried.  The little boy kept trying to avoid Alice because he was convinced she was going to turn him into a ferret. 

A Reward

Some might say that my love of Trader Joe's borders on obsession.  I have to agree.  I love their products; but, more importantly, my kids love when we shop there.  Happy Kids= Happy Mom.  Aside from their obvious enjoyment of the tasting area, they love the perpetual hide and seek game with Mr. Bananas.  For those of you who don't know, Mr. Bananas is a stuffed monkey dressed in khaki pants and a Hawaiian shirt.  The employees have created a "Missing" poster for him and encourage the children to search for him throughout the store.  The reward when they find him is an organic lollipop.  With such a reward in the balance, it should surprise no one that Alice has become very adept at finding the missing monkey.  Last time we went shopping I was particularly impressed with her abilities.  She found him in the rafters of a straw hut which houses the plants for sale.  I have to admit that I would not never found him in such a location.

We went to get her reward from the store manager, and Alice took out a second lollipop.  I told her that the manager already gave one to Angela.

"I know Mommy," Alice informed me.  "I wanted to get one for Daddy.  He has been a good boy."

I had to giggle a little bit at that one.  She handed the lollipop to me for safekeeping until John came home.

I think he was thrilled with his treat.  It is always nice to know that one rates highly enough to earn a lollipop.

The Munchkin Monster Strikes...

Hurricane Irene left us without electricity for 36 hours.  I was okay without the television.  The lack of lights was a nuisance but manageable.  The thing that drove me toward madness was lack of tea.  Not only do I use an electric kettle to boil my water, but my kitchen stove is electric.  Knowing my penchant for the leaves (and experiencing first hand my "pleasant" personality due to withdrawal), my dear hubby kindly went to Dunkin' Donuts to purchase their largest container of tea for me.  While he was there, he decided to get a large box of munchkins.  He thought the kids might enjoy picking on them. 

For Angela that was an understatement.

Both John and I found her several times at the kitchen table digging in the box of sugary holes.  We would quietly sneak up on her and ask, "Angela, what are you doing?" when we reached her side.  I loved how she tried to pass off our discoveries with nonchalance and a sweet smile.  But even those two things could not disguise the chipmunk checks she now possessed and the donut crumbs around her mouth. 

We were not angry at her.  However,  Angela must have figured out that cramming her mouth full with donut holes might potentially cause her parental grief.  Her tactic- to hide her snacking through camouflage.  Instead of eating the whole munchkin, she would take one bite of it and put it back into the box.  I guess she thought we were just counting the number of items in the box and we would not notice the large bite in each one. 

I am not sure if I should be amused or scared by her logic.  Part of me is impressed, but I am left to wonder....is this the sign of a potential criminal mastermind?  Am I going to have to worry about her hacking into millions of bank accounts, taking a nickle, and hiding her ill gotten gains in some Swiss bank account? 

The only thought that consoles me is that perhaps her behavior is genetic. 

If Angela is the Munchkin Monster then Alice is the Muffin Monster.  I have never seen a kid so crazy for muffins.  I once made these apple whole wheat muffins for breakfast.  We had about six left over.  I left them on the counter to cool completely before storing them.  A few hours later, I went into the kitchen to put the leftovers in a container.  There were two left.  I walked into John's office and asked, "Not that I care, but did you eat all those muffins?"  He looked surprised and informed me that he didn't.  This left us with only one other suspect as Angela was not born yet and Puggie is not springy enough to reach the kitchen counter.  Another time I actually got the leftover muffins into a tin.  Regardless, they were not safe there.  When I went to eat one I discovered that all six muffin tops had been devoured.  The Muffin Monster's fingerprints were all over this one again.

More proof for the genetic argument comes from the conversation I had with my sister Megan about these instances.  Oddly enough while she listened to my stories, she had opened a box of muffins and was eating the top off one of them. 

Genetic pools have lots of strange quirks floating around them.

Some Moments Take Your Breath Away

Alice had a nurse appointment for her five year old shots today.  Because I don't like to spring things like shots on a kid, I told her about it the day before.  We were coloring while Angela took a surprise nap.  I casually mentioned the shots and how she would not be able to go to kindergarten without them.  Right after dropping the "shot bomb" news, I proceeded to mention how afterward we would go to our favorite local farm for donuts and animal feeding/petting.  We also had a Toys R' Us gift card from her birthday to spend, so we would do some toy shopping as well.

The news of the good stuff seemed to counteract the fear of the shots.  While Alice and I continued to color, she talked excitedly about the upcoming fun errands.  After a very brief moment of silence (it is Alice, the "Motor Mouth" after all), Alice looked at me and said, "Mommy, we can get something for Angela with my gift card too so she has something new to play with."  I was stunned.  I totally did not expect this burst of generosity.  Don't get me wrong, Alice is a great kid who is very loving of her sister, but she is also five years old.  I told Alice that I would buy something for Angela with house money and thanked her for the offer.

Despite the allure of Toys R' Us, Angela fell asleep in the car on the way there.  She remained asleep for most of the outing.  It was a good opportunity to teach Alice the importance of making smart shopping decisions.  I had her walk around the whole store before she picked her favorite thing.  The funny thing about this was I had to keep reminding her to pick something for herself.  Alice kept pointing out good gifts for Angela.  Even when Alice finally picked her gift (the Toy Story set of Barbie and Ken), she did it with her sister in mind.  "Angela can be the boy," she explained as she handed me the package. 

Needless to say, Mommy splurged on a few things not covered by the gift card for her thoughtful girl.  How could I not?

Random Events that Fill My Day

Although I have been a stay at home mom for almost five years, I still have my moments when I am just not used to it.  I did not feel that way when I was a teacher.  Once I found my "teaching groove", the days took on a logical course.  There was the preparation time, the instructional time, the grading time.  Sure there were chaotic moments and stressful times, but the ebb and flow of things generally made sense.  Stay at home motherhood has not followed that pattern.  Instead of "ebb and flow", I deal with rapid fluctuations from mind numbingly mundane (e.g., watching Blue's Clues) to "pull my hair out" frustration.  Thankfully, somewhere in the midst of these disparate poles lies hilarity as evidenced by the following interaction with Alice this afternoon.

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Both girls love to look at catalogs, particularly those which feature toys and other kid stuff.  Luckily for me a new One Step Ahead catalog showed up yesterday.  The three of us relaxed on the sofa while paging through it.  The first few pages showcased Halloween costumes (yes, you read that right; Halloween costumes in an AUGUST catalog).  Upon seeing a witch costume, Alice got very excited and proclaimed, "Mommy, I want to be a bitch for Halloween." 

Gosh, I hope not.

Alice-ism Meets Yogi-ism

Yesterday Alice kept me company while I made some buttermilk biscuits for breakfast.  She sat at the kitchen table and decided to pass the time by practicing her letter writing with a workbook.  She was happily engaged in her work, so I made sure to give the typical "few more minutes" warning before everything was ready.

Alice looked up at me and stated, "I am going to work until I am done and then I will stop."

John and I shared a smile after hearing this remark.  Apparently Yogi Berra lives at our house.

Danger Zone

I took the plunge and purchased a sewing machine.  I figured if I can teach myself to knit then I can teach myself to sew.  Armed with the knowledge acquired from my Sewing for Dummies book and my instruction manual, I took the kiddies with me to the craft store to purchase some supplies.  While we were there, Angela found a small baby doll in the clearance section.  I figured I had a better chance hitting the lottery than extracting it from her hand without incident, so I told Alice to pick something out too.  (Those lessons in fairness have been totally ingrained in me thanks to my mother). 

Alice found a pair of Disney princess binoculars that thrilled her and we made our way to the cashier.  I knew that Angela relinquishing the doll to be scanned simply would not happen.  I placed my items down on the counter and proceeded to pick up Anglea so the attendant could use the handheld scanner on the doll.  Fearing that her possession would leave her grasp, Angela immediately began shrieking.  She finally settled down when I put her on the ground and she realized that the doll never left her hand.  Still, as we walked from the store, she kept saying, "Baby" over and over again.  (My sister thinks she sounds like a player Frenchman when she says it).  An armored truck driver noted the incident and commented to me, "Good luck trying to get that out of her hands."

I laughed and agreed.  I told him that I would have a better chance getting the money he was holding from him. 

The sad thing is I was probably right.

Odd Snippets

I love catching bits and pieces of the kids' chatter throughout the day.  Sometimes, when they are playing together upstairs, I will brew myself a cup of tea and sit out of sight on the stairs so I can listen to them.  Their imaginations and vocalizations never fail to put a smile on my face and make me chuckle.

Today the laugh of the day came while I cleaned the kitchen counters.  Alice and Angela were playing next to the kitchen in the formal dining room.  I am not sure what the game actually entailed.  When I walked by the dining room to put something in the hall closet, I saw Angela crouched under the table and Alice was semi under one of the dining room chairs.  I thought it was a game of hide and seek until I heard Alice ask her sister, "Angela, can you push me on the butt?  I am stuck."

Ever the obliging sister, Angela replies, "Sure."  A grunt of exertion follows.

The push apparently worked because the next thing I hear is, "Thanks, Ang for pushing my butt."

Now there is a conversation I thought I would never hear.

One World, Many Stories...Adventures in Summer Reading at the Local Library

It should surprise no one that both Angela and Alice are enrolled in our local library's summer reading program.  Mom is a book geek after all.  Knock on wood, it seems like both girls are following in their Mama's footsteps.  At the Christmas Tree Shop yesterday, Angela actually squealed for joy and clapped when we entered the kiddie book section. 

We are in week three with their respective reading clubs.  So far, Alice has a kazoo and a little click camera to show for her reading efforts.  Angela is the proud owner of a rubber duck and a blow up mini beach ball for hers.  Both girls love stories, so doing the 15 minutes a day of reading is not an issue.  I have to say, however, the thought of prizes is definitely an added incentive. 

In addition to the reading clubs, the library also offers several all ages programs.  Since the theme of this year's summer reading program is "One World, Many Stories", each all ages session highlights some aspect of various world cultures.  Thursday's offering centered on instruments from Africa and various Caribbean nations.  The presenter/musician was a very enthusiastic African gentleman dressed in cultural attire.  He obviously LOVED music and kids.  He showed and named all the instruments he brought with him and performed using them.  I expected Alice to be interested but Angela (as every two year old is) was the wild card.

Well, I think she caught the presenter's contagious joy.  Every note he played was met with a squeal of complete and utter joy from Angela.  She relished dancing with her sister and other children and particularly loved the African version of "Simon Says" that the gentleman performed.  You should have seen Angela shake her grove thing when he commanded "Shake your hips from the left and the right."  After he introduced and demonstrated all the instruments, he divided the audience into two groups and gave each child a chance to play an instrument with him.  As each group performed, I marvelled at how his strong lead made his motley bands actually sound good.  He even had simple instruments for his younger audience members (read: Angela).  She loved performing so much that she refused to give back her instrument and performed on and off with the gentleman for the remainder of the performance.  He was very good natured about the whole thing.  I think he appreciated her enthusiasm for his performance.  The adult members of the audience also were amused, and a little surprised I think, by Angela's joy.  It was one of those moments when I wished I had my video camera with me.  I particularly felt its absence when Alice decided to stretch out on her stomach during a dancing break.  Angela straddled her sister like a horse, draped her body over Alice's back, and wrapped her arms around Alice's neck.  A little boy on his mother's lap watched this unfold as I did.  He seemed confused by it and asked his mother, "What is she doing to her?" 

His mother replied, "She just loves her sister very much."

I smiled at the mom's explanation.  "That she does," I thought to myself as I watched my duo start to dance together again.  I  wonder what will be their stories as they grow up.  Their love for each other seems like it will be a constant theme woven through them.  I think, perhaps, there will also be an African drum circle somewhere in Angela's.

Sisterly Bonding

Alice and Angela scampered off to their playroom one night after dinner.  I looked at John and asked, "We're screwed, aren't we?"

Knowing exactly where my question was going, he replied, "Oh, yeah.  One will lie and the other one will swear to it."

Since Alice has been on vacation, she and Angela have really bonded.  Sure they have their typical arguments.  No toy is as much fun as the one that a sibling has in her hand.  But, more often than not, I catch little moments of love which just take my breath away- the hugs, the sleepy cuddles on the couch while watching a movie, the laughter during tea parties.  I see how they look out for each other at the Tot Drop in the Y and at the local parks.  Each instance dusts the haziness from childhood memories of my own and restores them into Technicolor. 
  
When I see them playing with their dolls together, I recall the hours my sister and I spent in the basement playroom playing Barbies together.  Even when Megan got too old for dolls, she would always spend some time playing with me. I remember all the little games we played from made up ones to board games. 

An outdoor concert with Alice brought back all the summer evenings in the yard playing Frisbee together and catching fireflies.  Swimming in the pool with the girls this week made me think about times at Stonybrook and my aunt's house.  We would be in the water until we pruned.  At the beach we would body surf until the waves became way too rough; we would leave the waves only to dig in the sand for sand crabs and other treasures (the ice cream truck was also good incentive to get out the water).

It is funny how all that play helps create not only fond memories but an unshakable bond.  When I look at the girls, I always send up a little prayer that their relationship will be close like mine is with Megan.  There is something to be said for knowing someone is in your corner to back you up whenever necessary.

Sisters rock!

Safety First

A few weeks ago Angela and I  finished our "Mommy and Me" swim classes at the local Y.  We had a great time.  Angela loved, loved, loved the water.  At the last class, the instructor recommended getting Coast Guard approved life jackets for the kids.  When I considered Angela's enthusiasm for the pool, and the fact our backyard is essentially all pool, I decided it would be prudent to follow the instructor's advice. 

I never realized the large range of life jackets on the market.  Infant life jackets have the typical flotation vest that goes around the chest along with an additional pillow that goes around the neck.  This construction makes floating face up the default position when they are in the water. 

Upon bringing the vest home, I decided to do a trial run with it.  Two year olds are a capricious lot and will sometimes take an irrational hatred toward pretty much anything (except cookies and ice cream).  I waited until Angela was in a good mood and put the jacket on her.  She looked quizzically at her well padded stomach.  She then fondly patted her tummy and said, "Pop Pop."  John and I lost it.  (For those of you who don't know, my father is rather, um, "well padded", shall we say?).  Needless to say, I had to call my father immediately.  Thankfully, he is the kind of guy who would be tickled by the tale.  I think, too, he was rather flattered to be likened to his grand daughter's life saving device. 

Let the Slapping Begin!

It is a rare thing when I feel like totally bitch slapping someone; but, right now, I could totally let the fists o' fury fly.  In a rare moment of relaxation yesterday, I decided to check out Facebook.  It was then I noticed a posting from the leader of the pug group to which I belong.  (Yes, I belong to a pug group.  If you owned one, you would totally understand).  Anyhow, the leader of the group often posts about pug dogs in need of rescue.  This particular pug cutie who needed adoption was given up because its owner has a new baby and she did not have enough time to spend with the dog.

What?!

Love Me!

Considering I have two children (one is four and the other is two), there was a time when I brought home  two newborns to our pug.  Even in the midst of the chaos that children (particularly freshly hatched ones) bring a household, I would never have entertained the thought of giving up Puggie.  Even after the dog ate a poopy diaper, and I had to clean up regurgitated poop all over the house, I never would have gotten rid of her.  Albeit, she did get a time out on the back porch until I knew she was empty.  Even after rushing her to the vet after she chewed on and ingested part of a bottle of diaper cream, I would never have gotten rid of her (even after seeing the subsequent vet bill from the emergency treatment).  Getting rid of Puggie would be akin to severing a limb.

Seeing the post about the rescued pug made me think of all the things my family would have missed out on without Puggie.  She was my EPT.  She realized I was pregnant both times before I did (using the standard EPT).  Even after experiencing Alice, she still celebrated the new life growing within me when she sensed Angela.  With the birth of the girls, Puggie realized a new side of her identity- that of protector.  While I will admit that "pug protection" does seem like an oxymoron, Puggie takes her job seriously and has alerted me to a few things that needed my attention.  She is an amazing caregiver.  When Alice had pneumonia, Puggie did not leave her side.  She even acted as Alice's pillow.  Puggie is an amazing listener who seems very patient with Alice's constant chatter and Angela's prattling.  Puggie makes Angela laugh with her playfulness and patience with dress up (a Cinderella outfit on a pug is wrong yet hilarious).  Heck, "pug" was Angela's second word. 

Puggie has been my children's first lesson in gentleness as she so sweetly endured those first slaps pats of affection from her girls.  She has also been their first lessons in responsibility as they do the daily pug tasks that I have assigned them.  She kept me sane during the "baby blues" period of plummeting hormones.  Nothing gives comfort like a pug gently snoring alongside you.  She was a great nursing pillow and book prop (pre-Kindle days).

I wish I could find that woman and have her reconsider her choice.  But, perhaps, her pug is better off without someone so uncaring.

This Blog is Brought to You by the Letter "F"

Unfortunately, I did not witness this interchange firsthand. 

John and I decided to speed up the "getting the kids to bed so we have a few seconds of silence before we pass out" routine.  I engaged in the fruitless task of rocking Peanut to sleep while John ran the water for Alice's bath.  While she waited on the toliet for her bath time, Alice let out a particularly long fart.  Amazed by her wind passing prowess, Alice happily exclaimed to her father, "Daddy, it sounds like an 'F'!"

I wonder if her teachers would be impressed by this application of her phonics knowledge.

What a Great Way to Wake Up

I had a rough time sleeping last night.  Angela woke up with teething pain and had a hard time settling back into sleep.  One of those fast and furious summer-esque storms hit.  My sciatica flared due to the weather.  I did not want my tossing and turning to wake John, so I moved to the guest bedroom.  I put a heating pad on my back and hoped to salvage the rest of the night.  

I must have passed out because next thing I know Alice is in bed next to me.  Angela let out a cry.  "Mommy, Angela's awake," Alice informed me.

I grabbed Angela who was standing in her crib waiting for me, and I brought her back into bed with Alice and me.  Whereas Alice is content to snuggle alongside of me, Angela likes to drape herself across my chest.  I was enjoying the quiet (something I don't experience too often) when I discerned a series of odd puckering noises coming from Angela.  It took a second to register that she was practicing her kissing.  She is very adept at blowing kisses; but, lately, she has been trying to make actual contact with the person she is trying to kiss.  I shifted my gaze down to her at the moment she lifted her head to look at me.  Upon making eye contact with me, Angela stopped her training momentarily and said, "Happy."  She then planted a kiss on my lips.  

I wonder if she registered my heart's reply of "Me too."

Never Say Never

Here is a picture of the girls in their Easter finery.  Yes, I realize that Easter was a few weeks ago.  Unfortunately, Angela does not nap anymore so things like downloading pictures from the camera are hard to fit into the day.  I want to state for the record that the matching outfits were NOT my idea.  Although they look cute, I will never be the type of mom who would do matching outfits of my own volition.  Apparently, I am the type of mom who is a total sucker for my four year old who so wanted to match with her sister.

The shopping trip for the Easter outfits started innocently enough.  I had Alice help me find her sister's dress.  We then went into the Little Girl section of the store to look for Alice's.  Right away, she found Angela's dress in her size and she was thrilled.

"Alice, isn't this yellow one pretty?"  I asked hopefully.

"No Mommy.  I want this one."

I pulled a bright pink dress from the rack (another thing that is totally makes me cringe inside; it figures pink would be her favorite color).  I had her now. I had brought out the big guns, or should I say the pink ones?  "How about this one?  It's pink."

"No Mommy.  I want to match Angela," she replied steadfastly.

I was screwed.

As I paid for the dresses, I figured I could shake things up with the shoes. 

No such luck. 

We went to the shoe store and I allowed Alice to find her shoes.  One we got hers, we trooped to the section of shoes in Angela's size.  Before I could even focus on the choices in front of me, Alice honed in on the perfect pair- the ones that matched hers.

She joyfully showed me her find.  I sighed and brought the two boxes to the cashier.  I realized I had been beaten.  Now my only consolation will be the horror Alice will feel as a teenager looking at the Easter 2011 pictures.  It will be a horror that will only be intensified when she learns it was all her idea.

True to Form

Today is Angela's birthday.  I cannot believe that she is two years old.  Actually, there are certain times when I can totally believe she is two.  They generally correlate with the times that I want to pound my head into a wall repeatedly.

After I served the girls their breakfasts, I sat down in my seat next to Angela and sang "Happy Birthday" to her.  Upon its completion, she smiled and demanded, "Cake."

It is nice to see that some things don't change.

Easter Mass

One day I will look at my well behaved children after Easter mass and think, "When did they become so boring?"  In Alice's defense, she was great.  Thankfully she did not pledge her allegiance to Satan like she did two years ago.  Peanut, however, was your typical two year old (read- a pain in the butt).  I spent more time walking outside the church than actually inside listening to the mass.  Props to the grounds crew of the church.  You did a beautiful job.  Thankfully it was a nice day, so I guess God was smiling upon me in that respect.  I am sure it was in appreciation for the laughs He got while Angela was inside the church.

• Angela apparently really loves her Pop Pop.  Unfortunately for all the white haired gentlemen wearing glasses around us, she adopted them all as her honorary grandfathers.  She kissed and hugged the man sitting next to me much to the amusement of his family and persisted in kissing the back of the man in front of us throughout the time we were actually in the church.  I hope they were flattered more than annoyed.

• During the "Glory to God" a hand bell chimed.  Angela exclaimed, "Oh no!  Telephone!"  I guess she took the reminder to turn off all cell phones to heart.   

Another Alice-ism

Today we took the kids to Dairy Queen.  Alice enjoyed her chocolate and vanilla twist tremendously.  As she ate, Alice surprised us with the information that ice cream has to stay cold or it will die. 

Apparently, she watched Frosty the Snowman one too many times.

I don't think I will view melting the same way ever again.

Lord Help Me

Alice has been home this week for her school's Spring break.  Consequently, the girls have been spending more time together which has lead to good blog fodder for me.

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Two mornings ago, Alice decided to teach Angela how to draw.  Apparently, those seven months I taught English to high school kids while pregnant were internalized in utero.  Or, perhaps, she is just bossy- take your pick.  Anyway, it was amusing to witness this instruction unfold.  Alice was pretty patient until she realized that her student was more interested in eating raisins.  Exasperated, Alice exclaimed, "Angela, if you eat more raisins you will have to deal with a big poopage."  Angela, unfazed, continued her raisin eating. 

Those lessons on digestion that were part of her school's body unit obviously made a big impression on Alice.

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A rainy day this week lead us to explore a new birthday place nearby.  It has lots of those inflatable slides and bouncy houses (read- great way to exhaust children).  I put Angela into one of the obstacle ones and waited outside.  She is generally pretty brave and enjoys stuff like this.  Plus, there was a very nice male attendant on duty who would fish out the little ones who got stuck.  After about five minutes or so, he emerged with a smiling Angela who went right back in.  I waited and again the young man fished her out.  She went right back in and once again the attendant emerged from the bouncy caverns with my daughter in his arms.  As I watched this unfold, I looked at Angela only to realize that she was flirting with the gentleman.  The coy glance, the sweet smile...that little sneak.  She was in charge of this situation all along (at least until I realized her ploy). 

When I spoke to John later that night, I informed him of his daughter's use of feminine wiles.  I dread when she is old enough to date.

Anatomy Lesson

Lately Alice has been into drawing.  The amazing thing to me is that her drawings are now recognizable.  Gone are the colorful scribbles of her modern period.  Last night we did some drawing after dinner while Daddy gave Angela her bath.  I decided to make an Easter basket filled with colored eggs, which inspired Alice to draw the Easter bunny.  Because Alice cannot do anything silently, she dictated to me all the steps that she was following.

She explained how she needed to make an oval for the body, ears, teeth, legs, arms, and a belly button.  Belly button?  I looked up to see her place a dot in the middle of the bunny's oval body.  I don't know why but this has me still chuckling.  Actually, as I write this blog entry, Alice has drawn another Easter bunny complete with belly button.  I guess she has entered her navel period.

Should I Be Concerned?

Angela has become rather proficient at naming body parts while pointing to them.  This might not seem like much, but I am her mom and little things like this make me proud.  Still, I could do without her forceful pointer finger demonstrating her knowledge of "eye" on me.  If you see me sporting an eye patch any time soon, I have not entered into a life of piracy (although I would look good in those boots and flowy shirts).

Angela knows "nose", "eye", "head", and "mouth".  Her recent addition to this list is "butt".  She demonstrates this new knowledge by hinging at her hips and slapping her buttocks all while saying, "Butt.  Butt.  Butt."

John and I used to joke that given Alice's love of nudity our job was to keep her off the stripper pole (thankfully she has outgrown the need to streak through the house).  Apparently, our new task is to keep Angela away from leather and whips.  A parent's work is never done.

More Than Meets the Eye

Angela has entered the "Terrible Two" stage.  When Alice was in its throws, I was in my first trimester of pregnancy.  I attributed my feelings of frustration, tiredness, and annoyance to pregnancy hormones.  Now, as I enter round two of the "TT" stage, I can honestly say all those feelings had nothing to do with pregnancy.  This developmental stage in a child's life just (for lack of a better word that is not a profanity) sucks. 

I understand the "why" behind the tantrums- no longer napping and not having the speaking vocabulary to convey her knowledge/desires.  Still, it is tough weathering through it.  The other day I informed my mom and husband that there should be a law of "No tantrums before Mommy has her first sip of caffeine".  Yesterday morning Angela seriously had about five meltdowns before the water for my tea even came to a full boil.  Nothing made her happy, so we went to the local Y.  I worked out and she played with her friends and we were both in better moods by the time we reunited.

The good mood extended into the evening hours.  After dinner, Angela sat on my lap while we chatted.  I hugged her and asked, "Angela, are you my big girl?"

She shook her head and replied, "No.  Alice."

"Oh, Alice is my big girl?"

"Yes."

"Are you my little girl then?" I asked.

"Yes."

John and I were amazed that she reasoned this out so well.  No wonder she has meltdowns.  Angela has it all figured out and she has to guide her occasionally addled mom through it all.  I would be frustrated too.

Political Leanings

My husband John is a Republican.  This information is important to keep in mind when reading the following account of our post breakfast interaction with the girls.

Alice has been a big one for making lists lately.  Never mind the fact that she can't read.  She persists in making lists.  Apparently, on her list was a line item which looked like "ACLU."  John read it, hugged his little girl, and said, "Honey, whatever you do, please don't be a pinko commie."

Alice looked up at her father and in a rather indigent tone replied, "But Daddy, I like pink."

 

I Guess I Need to Work on My Enunciation?

I carry Dum Dum lollipops around wherever I go. Those little suckers are magic. They keep my little ones happy and cooperative (which makes Mommy happy too). Yesterday I took both girls to get their hair cut. I was so pleased with their behavior and politeness. I told them so as I strapped them into their respective car seats and dug into my coat pocket for the lollipop stash. I handed one to Angela and then held out several for Alice so she could make her choice.

Alice looked them over carefully and happily held one up for my inspection. “Look, Mommy, bananas and ice cream.”

I glanced at the wrapper. “Yes, honey. They call that flavor ‘banana split’.”

Alice looked at me quizzically and in her most serious tone informed me, “Mommy, spitting isn’t nice.”

Apparently, clear speech is no longer one of my strong suits. Oh well…

Grammar Lessons

Every week Alice’s school distributes a letter outlining their plans for the week. It includes what songs they are going to sing, what books they are going to read, and what concepts they are going to work on during circle time. Alice held onto the handout while I drove home. Apparently, she is learning about the comma from her teachers because she kept commenting when she saw one on the paper. The former teacher in me saw a “teachable moment” here.



“Alice, did you know that a comma with a dot on top of it is called a semicolon?” I asked her.

“No, it’s not,” Alice informed me.


I was a little taken aback, but I persisted. “Yes, Alice, it is.”


“No, it’s not.”


I decided against going into a long dissertation about my teaching and education qualifications. Instead, I asked, “Well, then what is it?”


“It’s an ‘I’.”


Oy….

Mocking Me Already?

Angela will be 21 months old next week. Unfortunately, like her sister did at this age, she is showing signs of giving up her nap. Please bow your heads for a moment of silence. If she naps, she is hard to put down in the evening; but, if she doesn't nap, she hits the wall around 5 in the evening (and boy it is not pretty). I try to put her in the crib around one in the afternoon and see what happens. If she is still up, it is a "no nap" day; but, if she falls asleep, I do a happy jig around the house (until bedtime hits).

 

Yesterday was a "no nap" day. For 45 minutes she babbled and thumped around good naturedly in her crib. I entered her room to find her laughing with her legs over her head (yes, I am hoping she grows out of that before puberty). I looked at her and asked, "So, no nap today, huh?"

 

Apparently, when I tell Angela "no," I wag my finger back and forth because she looked at me, laughed, wagged her finger, and said, "No, no, no."

 

And here I thought I had to wait until she was a teenager to be the subject of her mockery. Lucky me.

 

Not Again

I realize that my hubby has a potty mouth. There is not much I can do about it. It is just a part of him. Thanks to teaching, I am so used to censoring myself around children that using "fudge" instead of "fuck" or "shoot" instead of "shit" is second nature. I have tried to correct him, but I don't like to be a nag. Now I just tell him that he will have to deal with teacher calls over inappropriate language.

 

Surprising, the naughty language perpetrator was Angela. As I made breakfast for Alice, I heard her happily babbling in her crib. I went upstairs to take her out. Upon seeing me, Angela became very excited. She tried to hop up, but she got tangled in her sleep sack and fell down.

 

"Oh, fuck."

 

My brain shot into overdrive. "Did I hear that right? Did my toddler just use the word 'fuck'?" I had just convinced myself that I must have misheard her when Angela tried to stand again and fell over.

 

"Oh, fuck."

 

There is nothing quite like hearing your 20 month old drop the F bomb first thing in the morning. While a large part of me was horrified, I have to admit to feeling a little bit proud. She did use it in the right context, after all.

Here Comes Peter Cottontail

It is funny how having an older sibling affects development. Yeah, I know that every kid develops at his/her own pace, but I do think that having an older brother or sister does speed some things along. While many would attribute this more rapid development to a desire to "keep up" with the older one, I am not totally on board with that hypothesis. Instead, I firmly believe that reaching certain milestones sooner simply stems from actually having an example to follow. Alice did not do an inordinate amount of climbing, hopping and whatnot at a young age because she did not see too much of it unless we were at a park or she was at school. (I know it is surprising that I typically do not climb on kitchen counters or hop up and down on one foot like a madwoman). Angela has this example in Alice. Consequently, Angela has learned how to climb on things at a much earlier age than her sister. She has learned the fun of dressing up from Alice. She even manipulates toys in a very similar manner to her sister. Still, there are some things that Angela can't do very well simply due to her young age and lack of coordination. One such thing is hopping.


Angela hopping (or rather trying to hop) is the cutest and most hysterical thing to watch. She bends her knees and raises her arms up in the air as if to propel her body for liftoff. She then proceeds to straighten up without her feet breaking contact with solid ground. Upon fully straightening, she grins with pride and says, "Hop". It is like saying the word indicates that the desired action has actually happened. She started doing this during a construction project on our house. While we were having a meeting with our contractor, we had Angela demonstrate her hopping to him. Now, whenever he is around, Angela starts "hopping" around the house. Today I knew Ed was in the house before actually seeing him because Angela kept saying, "Hop, hop, hop."


I wonder what will happen when she finally does achieve liftoff.

Favorite Christmas Memories of 2010

Yeah, I realize it is now January, but such is my life. Better late than never, right?

 

I have to say Christmas and the time leading up to it was filled with fun (and a little bit of insanity). Note to self- never do a home renovation project around the holidays. Still, despite all the uproar, some silly times (naturally) ensued:

 

• The Christmas Card Photo Shoot at JCPenny's- I have been unable to get a decent picture of Angela for the last two months. The child is in her "perpetual motion" stage. Consequently, whenever I try to get a picture of Angela and Alice, the picture usually looks like the two are engaged in some WWF wrestling move as Alice tries to keep her sister in position. Since I did not want "Sister Smack Down" on the Christmas card this year, I decided to hand over the task of generating a usable picture to professionals. The fact that our photographer got a few good shots still amazes me because Angela was certainly no help. At one point, she bolted out of our photo shoot to join in on another child's. Needless to say, Mommy checked the informational handout on her antibiotics when she got home and was thrilled that there was no mention of not being able to have alcohol. Joy to the World!
  

  
   

• Alice's Honesty- As I was sitting in the living room catching a breather, Alice ran in all excited. We had just decorated the tree and she was giddy with thoughts of Santa and, more specifically, presents. I reminded Alice that only good children got gifts and asked her if she has been good. Alice thought a moment and replied, "I have been good….enough." I was rather impressed with her accurate self assessment.
  

 

• Cookie Baking- Baking with small children is always an adventure. Alice became known as "the Enforcer" to her father. The poor man could not sneak a cookie without old eagle eye catching him and reprimanding him for his cookie intake. Angela, the "Cookie Monster", even stole balls of raw dough from the trays. Now that I think about it, in some ways her behavior reminded me of a junkie. I hope Lindsey Lohan did not start out this way. Perhaps some intervention is needed. Does Cookies Anonymous exist?
  

 

• Gift Exchange- As I set up the gifts on Christmas Eve, I was so excited. I couldn't wait to see Alice and Angela's reactions to their gifts. I spent so much time making sure that each present would be perfect for them. On Christmas morning, the girls opened their gifts, looked at the other's pile, and promptly began playing with each other's toys. So much for finding each one the perfect things. Next year I am just going to toss everything into a big pile and let them duke it out.
  

Needless to say, it was a wonderful time. Kids really do bring an extra bit of excitement to Christmas. I can't wait until next year.

No, I Did Not Put Her Up to It…

After dinner Alice wanted John to give her a big hug- the type of hug that involves being lifted off her feet and embraced. John made a slight groan as he picked her up (she is over 40 pounds after all). Upon reaching eye level with him, Alice looked at her father and said, "Daddy, you are getting old."


Needless to say, I cracked up. I love when her zingers are not directed at me.

Cookie Monster

I have mentioned in several blog posts how much I love to bake. Every December, a week or so before Christmas, I do my extreme cookie baking. This year I made 764 cookies, which actually is a low total for me. Last year I reached over 1000. However, a sinus infection, coupled with a stomach virus toward the end of my antibiotic treatment, laid me low for a good portion of the month. Always the optimist, I remarked to my mom that in some ways, the stomach virus was probably a good thing since I did not gain overmuch from my cookie sampling. Still, I would have happily done without that diet plan.

 

The cookies are mainly gifts. Nothing makes people feel as loved as a bag of yummy treats. Needless to say, the family loves this yearly tradition, particularly the tasting component. I am used to John's and Alice's reactions to my Cookie Baking Extravaganza, but Angela's was novel. Last Christmas, she was eight months old. Solid food eating comprised of stage one foods and runny cereal. Cookies were not the ultimate food that they are now that she is 20 months. While too many cookies are not a good thing, I have to admire how Angela's love of cookies has really turned on the critical thinking part of her brain. Her quest of cookies has resulted in her learning that step stools are portable and not too heavy for her to carry. This knowledge has become very handy in cookie larceny. I cannot tell you how many times I have found her standing in front of the cookie stash with a bag in hand ready to flee. In essence, she has become Cookie Monster in human form.

 

This new status solidified itself on Christmas. My sister in law gave Angela a stuffed Cookie Monster as a gift. The stuffed Cookie Monster has a chocolate chip cookie in its hand. When presented with the gift, my hard core cookie crook tried to steal the fake cookie from Cookie Monster's hand.

 

If that is not hardcore, I don't know what is.