Missed Milestones

First of all, we missed some milestones while I was flooring it to get through the summer.  Here are some, so we know they all happened!'

Little One's First Salon Hair Cut

This was a big day, partly because She finally has that much hair, partly because it's kind of a grown-up thing to do, and when did She start being big enough for grown-up things to do?!

I got mine cut first, then the same super nice and wonderful lady made a big fuss over what a big girl Little One was and made Her feel very important and excited.  (Bless the woman.  I have heard horror stories about kids getting their hair cut, and I didn't want to come home with any.)  Little One got Her hair washed in the big sink with the fancy shampoo.  She sat all by Herself in the big chair and held so, SO still.  She admired Her new 'do in the mirror, grinned and said "'tank you", and got a lollipop.  We had some good "big girl" time, and decided on the way home that probably, we were both princesses.

Little One's Gymnastics Graduation

She did great at gymnastics.  It was fun to see how much She learned and improved over time.  The first day She was too shy to even participate, and by the end, well, look!

After the last class, She got to get up and get a medal and certificate, and we all clapped for Her.  She was in the middle of a fever that day and not feeling too smiley, but this is Her with Her favorite teacher, Ms Raina.

Little Miss's First Bottle

Her daddy gave it to Her, and She wasn't that sure about it, but She took it.  For tiny babies, drinking from a bottle is a skill.  It is an important one, like learning to swim.  Maybe you don't swim often, but if you ever needed to, you want the kid to know how.  So we practice sometimes.  For a long time She flat out hated the things, and would only take a bottle from J.  Now She'll drink from one whenever She's asked to, but it's still not Her first choice by any means.

Little Miss's First Plane Ride

With one of the good friends who let us stay with them. Little Miss was a huge fan of this goofy guy.

The two of us went to Florida July 9th to look for a place to live.  She was a perfect little angel, naturally, and didn't shed a single tear.  On the plane, that is.  In the car, while driving around town endlessly, that was another matter.

My First Plane Ride With Two Kiddos

(In case you're wondering, no. I didn't dip Miss in bleach after this. That would be bad, guys! But ok I kind of wanted to.)

When we went to Texas after my Grandmother passed away.  The ride was sad.  But the babies were wonderful.  Little One entertained Little Miss.  They both napped when I asked them to.  They were both cheerful and sweet, quiet and calm.  In fact, flying alone with two Littles was not only easy, it was fun!

Little One's Spanish Class

Little One loved Spanish class and learned a TON.  Partly because Her teacher was so amazing.  She still asks when we can go see Ms Carina again, and still sings the songs and plays the same games all the time.  This was some of the best too-much money we ever spent. 

Little One's FIRST DAY OF SCHOOL!

Little One is going to a preschool a few blocks away that we adore.  Her teachers are fantastic, the kids are all nice, the school itself is a dream.  She's always excited to go in the morning, and always happy when we pick Her up, full of stories about what She did all morning.  She goes every weekday at 8 and we pick Her up just before lunch.  I'm not going to lie.  I miss Her A LOT.  But we've already seen Her confidence grow, and She enjoys it so much that at the same time, I'm really happy that She has the opportunity to go.  Little Miss and I enjoy having some one-on-one time, too, and seeing both girls light up when they see each other after school makes my day.

 Little Miss Goes 360

Get ready! Here I go!

I'm rolling!

Almost there!

I did it!!!

She got the tummy to back thing before we even moved, as you and a certain Indian restaurant may recall.  But In the last couple of weeks She also got the back to tummy down.  I can't say which day exactly.  She at first would do it off an incline, like when propped up on a pillow.  Then She'd do it on a soft surface, like when the three of us girls read stories together on the bed.  I was never really sure whether to count those....but then we noticed Her doing it all the time.  Now She actually prefers to flip onto Her tummy, the better to see the world and grab stuff.

She also, just a couple days ago, put them together and rolled all the way over!  I don't think She realizes the power of this yet.  But soon, Peanuts.  Soon.  There will be NO STOPPING Her.

Little Miss Scootches

There's not too much stopping Her now, really.  She wants to crawl, like I explained in Her last birthday post.  She still doesn't have the hang of it, but She can scoot around pretty well (backwards) by trying.  The last few days we've watched Her scootch Herself a little this way, a little that way, kind of like an crab missing some legs, but eventually get halfway across the room.  Let the babyproofing begin!

Make Up Work

Ok seriously.
How can we move on, Peanuts.  How can we.
How can we really go forth into Florida Sunshine Tales, when there is such a lot I forgot to tell you about?  I know, I know.  Shhh.  You're suffering.
Well cry no more!
Here comes a huge tidal wave of pictures and such to make up for my utter negligence all summer.
What...you don't care?  Too bad for you Peanuts.  Since I have stopped even pretending to make actual scrapbooks, this is all the Littles will get to reflect on when they get older and want to see what we put them through during childhood, so they can find things to blame us for.
I love my children, Peanuts.  I want to give them lots of material to take to future therapists as proof.
So I can't very well leave out a whole summer.  You see?
So in the next few posts, I'm going to play catch up. You can either roll your eyes and get all bored, or you can leave that for my kids and jump on the bandwagon.  Wooo hooo! Here we go!

I Hope They Don't Need To Be Sealed

At the playground, Little One used some wood chips to make me a "ticket" to go down the slide.

Little One: "Ok Mama! Your ticket is finished!"

C: "Great! Thank you!"

I held out my hand.

LO: "Hol' on! Hol' on a second, mommy.  I have to sign it first."

C: "Oh, ok.  I'll wait for you to sign it."

LO: "Ok! Jus' a minute."

She runs across the park, to where the rules are posted, and very purposefully taps the wood chips.  On the SIGN. 

LO: "There! I signed them."

Six Months

A very merry un-birthday to Little Miss!
Half a year. Amazing.  It seems like She should still be a newborn, like She just got here. But no.
She's grown up so much, and She's giving us every sign that She just intends to keep right on at it. She's made a lot of progress since Her last month birthday. 

There's the sitting, and the rolling, of course. Major developments.  She gets up on all fours, determined.  Go baby go! She gives a good lurch towards Her goal. Go baby GO!  She kind of collapses into the military crawl.  It's ok! That works! Go with it baby go! But then- and this is the bane of Her existence- She starts moving the limbs, focused on that toy/dog/corner by the sofa/whatever, and even though She swears She's going right for it, it keeps getting farther away. How can it be? She reaches out for the Goal desperately- "don't leave me!!" but then She's got Her arms and legs splayed out, balancing on Her (rather ample) tummy in perfect skydiving form, and that really is frustrating. Because now She's not getting anywhere at all.  Backwards schootching.  The one and only thing that really ticks Her right off.

Because otherwise She is still going for the record of World's Happiest Baby.
I tell you this child smiles All The Time.  She barely fusses even when She ought to.  She's just a happy, contented little soul.  And She thinks pretty much everything in Her world is just delightful.  Wind in Her face.  Dogs in Her face.  Her sister singing LOUDLY in Her face.  Music, thunder, water, ice, whatever man! It's all good times!

Her sister is a fave, though, truly.  Even though Little One has Her moments of, oh I dunno, intentionally stepping on Her baby sister... hypothetically. Ahem.  Uh, even though all that, She generally does love to snuggle, coo over, and entertain baby, and Little Miss eats it up.  When Little One gets home from school, Miss does Her lit-up-happy-baby dance, every time. 

Other favorites include splashing in water- a big change from Her first opinions on baths and beaches for sure- and any toy that makes music and lights up.  Unfortunately.  Being toted around in the baby carrier and snuggled lying down are Her absolute top two happy places in life.
She tolerates the exersaucer and the jumper, She is so over the bouncer and swing (which She never really liked anyways).  She deals with the car seat and stroller, but only to be nice. 

She loves to have a nice, wide open floor to roll on and a basket of baby toys to sort through, chew on, and feng shui around the room.  She spends all morning doing this while the rest of us get ready for school and work.  She could care less what we are all up to, really, She has Her own hobby to attend to thanks.

She kinda likes reading, but the fact that you don't get to chew the books seriously bugs Her.  After about two pages She's like "ok ok, blah blah blah.  How about you keep talking to yourself, and I eat those three little bears now?"  Boring.

But there's a fine line between boring and scary.  Little Miss still does not enjoy rough-housing or sudden surprises.  She tries, but She really does get frightened by too much commotion.  She likes the playground swing, for example, but only after a few very gentle pushes, with lots of adult reassuring while She looks up with Her concerned face to make sure they know what they're doing there.  And only if She's being pushed very slowly, very gently.  Too high and She cries.  Cries and cries and needs to be held super close, clutching your shirt, and burying Her head in your shoulder for a few moments until She feels safe again.  Likewise slides are still too much, fly-baby-over-your-head is too much.  People popping out and yelling "BOO!" is way too much.  She would rather just calmly observe, from someone's nice cozy lap.  Or else She might need pacifying.  

Her addiction to the pacifier is wild.  Today, in fact, is day one of Pacifier Rehab, and we have come to rely on it so much that I'm almost sad to see it go.  She just likes it so much guys.  And it's very, very hard to tell that dimple "no".


She desperately, passionately, wants whatever it is you are eating.  She looks at it like a starving street dog would eye your Big Mac.  It's kind of guilt-inducing.  Kind of funny.  Good thing solid foods are right around the corner, or I think She might start plotting a coup to get my oatmeal.


Her fine-motor skills are pretty sharp, maybe because of all that work learning how to pick up, correctly orient, and properly insert that beloved pacifier.  She loves to find little things to observe closely and try to dismantle.  The smaller the better, to my frequent horror.

She loves to talk and babble, and sort of sing to Herself when She plays.  She will adore you if you take the time to have a 'conversation' with Her, letting Her answer you and then replying to Her coos.  She gets all excited and just pours out Her life story.  There's a lot to tell!

Like how She's still growing at a mad rate, chubby little thighs and pudgy tummy getting squishier all the time.  In fact, when you throw in that big cloth diaper, She can easily share shorts and skirts with Little One now.  Her nails grow so fast I cut them twice a week for my own safety, and Her hair is actually pretty long.  You just can't tell because it is so fine and fair.  It will be interesting to see what it decides to do with itself.

She is a morning person.  Little Miss likes to sleep promptly at, if not before, bedtime.  And She likes to wake up between five and six, like a little piece of toast springing from the oven.  She always wakes up with a sigh, and then a giggle.  She immediately starts kicking, flopping, squirming and singing.  She calls for a new diaper and some breakfast, and then She is ready for the day.  She does not like to sleepily snuggle awhile, or slowly wake up, stretching in Her crib.  No.  Up, at 'em, ready for toys and exercise and voice practice like Now.  This is turning out to be rather an adjustment for me, since 5-6 used to be my time.  But as usual, She's so cheery you just can't fault Her for a thing.  And though She's up early, She does take long, solid naps as long as Her schedule isn't mucked around with, and She literally begs for bed at night.

Little Miss overall is a social, outgoing, chill little baby who is simply in the business of loving life.  She's working hard on all those baby jobs like growing, getting around, and figuring out the talking thing.  She adores Her familiar people and toys, and we adore Her.

It's crazy to think that only half a year ago, She wasn't around giving slobber-kisses or wrapping chubby arms around my neck.  Hard to believe Little One ever had enough to do without Miss to so constantly worry about and play with and fetch things for.  In just half a year, She has up-ended and rearranged all of our lives!  And they sure look good with a smiley Miss in the middle of them.
We over-the-moon adore you, Little Miss!  A very-merry un-birthday to you, who makes a very merry every day for the rest of us.  We love you.

A Thousand Words

We went to get family portraits.
Cue foreboding music.
This is something I insist on, once or twice a year.  Despite the fact that I have more pictures on my laptop than there are bacteria on the floor of the place we ate tonight. 
It's just this urge i get; it's uncontrollable!  After awhile I glance at our last family pic- hanging out all posterity-like on the wall- and blam! It hits me!
The kid in that frame is nothing like the one I just tucked into bed.  This one is so much bigger and smarter and just different that it might as well be a whole new person and-oh no! I have no family portraits with this new person.  And in another month or so this new person will be gone. Forever, replaced by another model, without a trace.  Unless I take it to a cheap studio and freeze that sucker in time, mount it like a deer head, and nail it to the wall. 
There! She used to be TWO! See??? And look! We were there also! We even all liked each other!
Of course the last part there, while essentially true, is a little tricky to pin down in the pseudo-reality of a black tarp and strangers with big flash bulbs. 
Between Little One refusing to smile for strangers and J sulking like a five-year-old being fed cod-liver oil over having to dress up and endure it all, no one knows why I keep hauling the whole brooding bunch back in, unless it is some very odd manifestation of masochism. I need help. 
This time I wanted just three things-
-One decent picture of us as a family (We are like never all in the same picture).
-One cute picture of the girls together
-One of Miss in Her baptism dress
This was Little Miss's first of these little family adventures.  With Her extreme love of grinning at strangers and enjoying everything-I-mean-everything, I was hoping She might inspire the rest of the lot to smile without me having to cajole myself into a coma.
Not to be, friends. Not.
J, well.  Let's just be glad he didn't kick or scream while I dragged him in by his dress shoes.  Little One, oh.  Oh man.  The girl was a bundle of I-am-two-I-did-not-nap-I-can't-hear-you-what-can-I-climb-on-and-break-ness.  She did not want to smile.  She wanted to make monkey faces. 
Cover Her head with Her arms.  Or hold up a stuffed pig in front of Her face.  Or lay on the floor. Anything but cooperate.  She did not want to take a picture with Her sister.  She only wanted to be photographed by Her "own self".  The photographer, who does not follow the theory of shooting lots of pictures and hoping one is cute by chance, kept waiting for the perfect moment. 
Which, naturally, never. Never came.
After awhile, even Little Miss Smiley was over it.  Now everyone was fussing.
Finally the photog snaps a few random times and exclaims, "I got it!" "Love it"!  We move on. 
I wanted to get Little Miss's baptism picture taken next, but She had HAD it.  She began to scream "what part of AAHHHHHH don't you people understand?!" And try to actually consume a rosary. 
We gave up.  We looked at the pictures the photographer "got" and "loved". 
In one, Little One looks like She is crying.  Perhaps someone has died.  Maybe the pig She's hunched over.  In another, Her lips are pursed out and Her eyes bugging- think Cosby doing the pudding face.  Perhaps because the camera has caught Her red-handed trying to off the baby, who is clearly disturbed at being hoisted up by the collar.  In one J and I both swear to you I have a crossed eye.  It's from the insanity, people. Has to be. 
In the end, we ordered one copy of one family shot, and one of each girl solo. Only because we had a coupon and because I know that I would have to use roofies to get J to try that mess again anytime soon, if ever.  The rest seriously were That Bad. 
So by the time we left even I was fussing. 
J decided to make me happy by taking me out to dinner, because by then we were starving. 
We went to the five-dollar buffet.
Now. Back up.
This morning at church, while people were all quiet praying, there was a sudden "BANG". And then, "OOW!" My voice.  Little One had dropped the kneeler on my foot, and then jumped on it. 
Later. Because of the way I was holding Miss, I could not quite reach my mouth with my hand for communion.  So I took the wafer and kept trying as I walked, so as not to hold up the line.  The priest actually grabbed my shoulder and yanked me back, admonishing me to CONSUME IT NOW please. 
After church, we went to a craft store to get something for a project. They did not have what I needed, but I did get to visit their restroom FOUR times because Little One was having some stomach issues. 
Peanuts. 
Do you know what the perfect ending is, to a day in which you have injured yourself, hollered like a lunatic in church, been scolded by a priest, spent a half-hour in a public bathroom, and herded screaming cats around a photography studio for no reason? DO you?!
It's the $5 buffet. 
A place where a statistically significant percentage of patrons have no teeth, are definitely high, or both.  A place where there is a big sign over the cash register when you walk in, that says "No fighting.  No insulting. Be nice".  Always good. 
It's especially fun to go there in picture-day hair and make-up, a black cocktail dress, heels, and pearls.   I'll tell you what I did guys. 
I had seconds.  I had deep-fried-something, candied yams, and mac-n-cheese. I had four kinds of dessert.  In our next family portrait, I will be able to just sit on the whole family so they have to hold still for the camera. 
On the way home, we stopped at the playground.  Little One, who had been wearing two mis-matched right-foot shoes all this time, kicked 'em off and got good and dirty.  Miss giggled on the swing.  Little One called out from the top of the slide, "Daddy! You are AMAZE!" 
They got washed and jammied and tucked in. 
You know.
Today in church,  J leaned over and squeezed me and whispered "I love you C". 
At the craft store, even though She was sick, Little One laughed and made up a happy song about the fun, foamy soap in the dispenser.  And She hugged me on the way out, saying "Thank you for carry me mommy.  You are very good for my tummy to feel better".  
The coconut pie at the buffet was good.
Little Miss cuddled up to me at bedtime, cooing Herself to sleep, giggling in Her dreams.  And then Little One begged me to snuggle Her. She grinned when I said yes-as if I could say no- and pulled me close. She said, "G'night my mommy.  You may go now.  We can all be together in the morning".  
And we can. 
 I have to write it.  I have to write it all down.  Because sometimes the pictures don't work out, guys.  And when they do, they never get it.  Not really.  They never get the light in Little Miss's eyes at dinner, when Little One sang to Her, making Her laugh.  They never get the sweetness in the way Little One kissed Miss's forehead in church and called Her "a angel".  They don't capture the look on J's face as He swoops his baby up in the air or pushes Little One on the swing.  They can't show how cozy my babies are, all cuddled up and smelling like strawberry shampoo. 
And tonight we'll sleep and all that will vanish. Another day evaporated like spilled water on a Florida sidewalk. 
I'd re-live this sore-foot, frazzled, $5 buffet day any time guys.  I would, but I can't.  So I'll herd us in for portraits, I'll write it all down when I should be sleeping.  Anything to keep a shadow of it. 
Little One is in a trying phase.  Little Miss demands so much attention.  Things don't go according to plan.  But we can all be together in the morning. 
I wish a picture could capture that. 
I'd frame it and save it always. 

Day at the Beach

People, I could not have dreamed it up better.  Firstly, we got all our stuff into one bag plus a blanket.  That is a beach-day miracle.  Then we padded on the white, clean sand to the glittering blue water, just in time to watch a pod of dolphins frolic by. 

See the fin?!

There was a tidal area a good ten feet wide stretching way down the beach.  It was perfect, like a kiddie pool at the ocean.  Only a couple feet deep in the middle and warm as bath water, the babies could see the waves roll in without getting tossed around by them.  It was the perfect place for Little One to play, and for Miss to experience seawater for the first time.

Little Miss LOVED it, by the way.  She splashed like crazy.  Didn't even mid when She splashed so hard She got a facefull of saltwater.  She licked Her lips, looking all confused, and then splashed all the harder.  She plunged Her chubby fists under and came up with handfulls of wet sand.  Watched it drip slowly between Her fingers, then splashed again.  I think She'd have stayed all day, but She wore Herself out and had to take a siesta.

Meanwhile Her big sister- and I'll try to refrain from getting all nostalgic and metaphorical with you here- left the kiddie water and headed across the sandbar for the big waves.  J and I took Her out where the water was deep.  Silvery fish leaped out of the air right next to us, rolling waves lifted us like a gentle rollercoaster and set us down again.  The water was warm, the sun was just bright and hot enough, and Little One's giggles were everywhere.

We've been back a few times since, and we've yet to be disappointed.

 

We might get used to this. 

Weather Report

It's been awhile now since we've arrived in this little Floridian town.  J has miraculously and fantasmazingly been on leave this entire time (he started work yesterday), and my mom and sister have each been to visit. So we have had a nice big team out on expedition, seeing what we've got here.   Supposedly, this is the "Sunshine State".   I personally was looking forward to this promise more than just about anything, as we all know that my teeth start chattering around 70 degrees.  Of course, when my mom first arrived there was this:

Buckets- no. Barrels.  Barrels of water dumping from the sky- all day! Sapling-uprooting wind! Blazing lightning! Crashing waves! Ooh! Aahh!Because it was a hurricane watch, we went to the beach of course! To watch!

It was so windy the sand came at us like needles and sent our hair leaping in all directions, trying to escape.
It was kinda fun.  But not very sunny.
But then the rain moved on like a rock band leaves a hotel room; having made a lot of noise and fairly trashed the place.  The day we woke up to clear skies, Little One walked out the front door and declared, "Ooooh, Mommy.  Someone made a big big MESS!"   Tree branches, sand piles, and palm fronds everywhere.  But it compensated us for its battery by leaving cool, gentle air and clear sunshine.  We took that compensatory check and spent it at the beach! I'll tell you all about it later.
We've also been hanging around downtown, exploring the historic district, and driving through National parks.
So far, here's what we've got on our new digs:

* People here are nice.  No, seriously.  Really nice.  Awhile ago I was slightly lost, slightly distracted, and well...just being myself, and I seriously cut off another driver while trying to pull into a gas station. After a good scolding from my mother, I walked over to apologize and she was all, "Gosh.  Well it's ok! You just sur-prah-sed me a little, that's all!" Big smile.
In DC? I would have been lucky if all she'd aimed at me was a certain finger, much less a big old grin.  I was pretty suspicious that she might have been on drugs or suffering from a recent lobotomy.
But no.
*When J and I walked Little One to school the first day (three whole blocks), people pulled over to ask if we needed help, or a ride, or gosh just anything a'tall!
*When Little One's curiosity got the best of Her in an antique shop, the owner did not glare or ask Her to keep Her hands off the expensive breakable stuff.  He chuckled. And patted Her on the head.  And said, "Aw, you like that thing doncha honey? Lord! She's cute!"
*Our neighbors have already introduced themselves and offered to make us a good Southern meal, and to teach me to fry things.
*J and I admired some plants at a market. After being flirted with by Miss and Little One, and learning that J is in the navy, they insisted- "Sweetie now I am in-SIS-tin'"- that we buy them for a third of the already cheap price. 
*When Little One and I asked a waiter to direct us to the ladies room, he escorted us there personally.  And waited until we were done, to escort us back to the table, lest we get lost and become damsels in distress.
Yes, the locals here seem to err a bit on the too nice side; something we recall from our previous encounter with the South.  And everyone wants to talk talk talk to you everywhere you go.
I. Love. It.  I love getting "honey"ed and "darlin"ed and "sweetie"ed.  I love waving at everyone without getting that DC finger in return. I like that no one gets huffy if you chat with the check-out girl, because they are already chatting the the person behind them in line.  Kumbaya, people. That's what I say.
Another thing about this town is that there really is more to it than I thought there would be. My mom and I took a Thai cooking class.  The historic district has great little shops, tons of character, a fun outdoor market each weekend, and the best vegan restaurant I've ever been to.  We belong to a co-op choc full of stuff Little One can eat, that offers great, free yoga classes every week. There are a lot of small local businesses and holes in the wall that turn out to be gems.  There are playgrounds everywhere and the water is never more than a few minutes away.  Traffic is virtually non-existent and even downtown you can always park right where you are going, as soon as you get there.
I might actually be hallucinating this whole thing.  If I am, though, don't wake me up!
Despite all those days of rain, and even if it rained all the time, I totally am feeling the motto around here.  It's not just about the weather, Peanuts. It's a state of mind!  It's the local ambiance!
When we went to the DMV (where we waited in line for exactly ZERO minutes) to register our car here, they let me choose between several little slogans for my new license plate.  I knew right away which one I wanted.

And She's Saucy; We're a Perfect Pair.

C: "No, Little One, you may not."

Little One: "Mommy! You are im-pasta-bul!"

C: "What?! I'm impossible?!"

LO: "YES.  You. Are. Im-PASTA-BUL! YOU! You...you are jus'....jus' a bunch of SPSGHETTI!!!"

Sitting Pretty

I'm so excited about this picture. Because you don't always get a photo of the very first time something happens, and here it is! The very first time Little Miss sat up, all by Herself.  Look how proud She is! Me, too. 

5 Months

    

It's been a busy month!  For the whole lot of us, but not least Little Miss. While we've been all saying goodbyes and driving and saying hellos and unpacking boxes, Miss here has been trying to take over the whole world!
Ok, well.  Not take over maybe, but win over.  And She's doing pretty well.  Look at that face.  I did not dangle jingly toys, make monkey faces and/or obnoxious noises, jump up and down, or even beg for that smile.  If you have little children and a camera you know what I mean.  Sometimes you have to put on a circus act to get them to smile at the right moment.  Not this kid.  That is just Her normal face.
The best adjective I could use to describe Little Miss is Joyous.  She loves to smile.  She loves to laugh.  She's hard to disgruntle and easy to please.  All you have to do is look at Her to get one of those sunbeam smiles.  All you have to do is talk to Her- say anything!- and She nearly bursts with happiness.  She thinks all your jokes are funny.  She thinks whatever you find funny is funny.  She thinks Her toes are funny.  Life is one big giggle, really.  This has led to legions of admirers in public places.  Miss has yet to meet anyone She didn't like, and She practically leaves trails of melted hearts in Her wake whenever we go out.
Of course She fusses like any baby when She needs a change, a snack, or a nap, and there are some things She likes better than others.
She's just come around to enjoying baths, for instance. Since She learned about splashing, it's been a whole new ball game.  She loves to be sung to, especially if She does happen to be out of sorts.  It calms and soothes Her...a little auditory margarita!  In fact, we have more than once put the girls to bed with Little Miss fussing about it, and listened to Little One sing Her to sleep.
Which is still one of Little Miss's favorite pastimes. She sleeps from about 8-6:30, and takes two or three naps during the day.  We're still sorting out our new schedule, and Miss wishes we would hurry up.  She seriously wants to have a rigid sleeping routine, and one of the few things that really ticks Her off is being put down late for a nap.
She loves the pacifier- a true addiction- which She quickly recognizes and can easily grasp, turn more or less the right way, and pop in all by Herself.  Also toys of all sorts. She has really become interested in playing with things and trying to figure them out.  Or figure out how to eat them.  She's very interested in food, and seems to think that She's ready to hit the buffet table like, yesterday.  I suppose, in fact, that after the face plant She took into my peach on the drive down here, we should probably call that Her first solid food.  She loved it.
There are few things She doesn't like, really.  But there are some.  For instance.  This laid-back little zen buddha likes chatting and playing, even tickling (She is insanely ticklish), but is not a fan of roughhousing in any form.  You know that game all babies love, where you sort of gently toss them up, or "fly" them around, or bounce them on your knee?  This baby does not love it.  She gets scared and Her grinny face crinkles up and cries.  She doesn't like to be squeezed too tight.  She doesn't like cold water.  Or to be cold in general.  She doesn't like Her back rubbed when She's fussy, like Her sister did.  She prefers to be patted and for you to "sshh shhh shhh" Her.
She would highly prefer to be held all the golly-gosh-darn time, snuggled to sleep, and generally always attached to somebody She loves.  But She will go to sleep all by Herself if She has to, and She is really very good at entertaining Herself.  Talking to Her toes, banging on the little piano, exploring toys during tummy time, practicing rolling onto Her back, and trying very, very hard to crawl.
She's almost got it! Sort of! She can actually get up on all fours, chubby belly off the floor and everything.  And She can get those legs moving just like they should! But- the arms.  Those confounded arms get in the way every time.  They just don't budge! So when the legs go, Her top half is propelled forward, over those planted hands, and the poor thing faceplants- I mean eats it- right on the floor.  Since She can sort of wriggle Herself forward now, that too often happens just past the edge of Her blanket or play mat or whatever, and She comes up, all red nosed and offended, little pound signs and exclamation marks flying from Her toothless mouth.  She's tenacious, though.  She keeps at it.
One day soon She will get it, and then we'll all be in for it.  Right now we're just enjoying this babymoon phase, where She's all interactive and fun, but still for the most part stays right where you put Her and- for the most part- only gets hold of whatever you (or Little One when you aren't looking) give Her.  Life will get more and more interesting from Here on out.
She's growing becoming more and more like, well, Herself.  "Her own self" as Her sister would say. She's growing at an amazing pace- due to outgrow Little One any week now it seems- and is even getting a little teeny bit of hair.  It could be just me but I think She gets prettier, smarter, and sweeter every day.
It's not just the strangers at the mall who adore Her and Her smiley, bubbly self.  The rest of us are besotted as well!  Happy (slightly belated) Birthday Little Miss!  All those dozens of smiles you keep beaming at us flip our grins on too.  You fill the place with light.  We love you!

I am a lying liar. Little One is Galileo.

Little One is kind of a budding scientist.  Really, as all two year olds are.  She has a chronic and severe case of curiosity.  A while ago, this curiosity was manifesting as a focused preoccupation with electrical outlets.  She was really, really interested in them.  Many a time, Peanuts, I caught Her hovering around one looking all studious.  Many a time I caught Her in the midst of attempting to plug/unplug some kind of cord.  When I went to plug in the vacuum She "helped" by walking over and expertly prying off the safety cover for me.
Ok then.  Greeeaaaat.
One day as I was brushing Her hair on the bathroom counter, She reached for the wall outlet and mentioned something about how the little holes were "just right" for Her little fingers.  She reached.
An image zinged through my brain; my kid sister, about five years old, howling and wailing with blue fingers.  Blue.
"DON'T put your fingers in there!!!!" I cried as She was about to touch it.
She drew Her hand back, just a little, and asked, "Why?"  She looked at me so intently, guys.  Like She was ready to weigh my answer and determine whether it was really good enough to nix how completely awesome it would be to try sticking Her fingers in this magical wall fixture. Like She seriously doubted it could. 
And so, without even thinking it through or really creating it in my mind, almost as if someone else was speaking through me Peanuts, I did it.  I lied.
Not a little white lie, a BIG one.  A dumb one.  And really... kind of a mean one.
"Because, there...is a monster."
Her eyes bugged out. Her hand retracted a bit further.
"Yes.  Yes there are monsters in there, and if you put your finger in there (I'm going to hell for this) they will BITE your fingers (as if that wasn't bad enough) OFF." 
The hand fell to Her lap.  I stood there in a mildly exhilarated panic, like someone who had just robbed a bank- there was No Going Back now.  
"Mommy!  Why?  Why there some monsters living in ours house like that?!" 
"Uh, well.  Well.  Well that's where they live, in the walls like that.  But we don't have to be scared, because they never, never come out."
"They don't?"
"No.  No they never come out, but (seriously I could not stop I am evil) they sit in there, and if people put their fingers in....BITE!" 
She jumped.  She eyed the wall socket- a moment ago so exciting and friendly- with extreme suspicion.  She warned all Her friends.
She never, I mean NEVER let Her fingers go near one again.

This effectiveness gave me a little nugget of justification for the first Real, Big lie I ever told my daughter.  It was for Her safety! For (oh no now I'm one of Those) Her Own Good.  I still don't know what came over me.  And I did wonder what would happen one day, when She learned from someone the Truth and that She'd been taken. By Her own Mother.
But.

When we got to this house and our belongings did not, we had no outlet covers to childproof with.  But since the Lie was so effective, and we have buckets of covers coming on the truck tomorrow, we just let it be for now. (I am racking up the good parenting points in this post, eh?) Little One has been sleeping on the floor and (ding! ding!, a few more points) Her pillow and blankets happen to be in a spot right by the wall, right under a bare, naked outlet.

But She didn't go near it.  In fact, the first night She spontaneously reassured me that She was "not goin' to touch that monster home.  We have to be careful, mommy, cause that monster home does not have some of those tight doors on, and they could come out if we touch fingers in there, so I'm not goin' to go in that monster home, Don' Worry."  
And I didn't.

But then today. When I put Her down for Her nap. As I was tucking Her in She got a thoughtful look on Her face and said, "Mommy, can I tell you sompin? I been thinkin' bout that monster home over there."
She nodded at it.
"Ok, tell me."
"Well... I think that's not a monster in there."
"Oh... you do? Why is that?"
"Mommy don' worry mommy!  I not been touchin' that monster home, I just been lookin' closewy. I been lookin' in there, and mommy I think there's NOT a monster in there.  Because I'm lookin' and lookin', and I think...I think thas just.... some fuzz."
"Fuzz?"
"Oh yeah mommy! Look! Jus' look, take a peek in there."
She pointed to the outlet holes. Sure enough, if you look closely Peanuts, there are little tiny balls of dust. Sitting just inside, just where a monster- if there were one- would be lurking. She continued Her scientific assessment of the situation.
"And see mommy, this fuzz. Not have any neck on it. Or not have a body, or arms, OR legs! So," She sat back on Her heels and summed it all up decisively, "So mommy, I think that really this is NOT some monsters in there." 

What could I do.  I told Her that She had made some very good observations, and appeared to be right about monsters.  But, I told Her, I did know- for sure- that She really could get hurt if She put Her fingers in the outlet. Just the same.
She cozied into bed to take Her nap, assuring me that She was not going to touch the outlet.  But making sure to repeat that She was not going to touch it, but not because of monsters.  Because there weren't any.

And so my daughter, at two years old, has discovered the core nature of science.  Of being a scientist.  Which is that science and curiosity and the quest for information very often get you into trouble. It can place you in harms way.  It can stir up the authorities and cause them to do crazy things to stop you.  It also can, eventually, bring you Truth. 

And I have learned (and will re-learn and re-learn) the core nature of children. Which is that:
They are always smarter than you think they are.  And very often, smarter than you. 

Gloves and Zippers

Today I got the (yellow) gloves out. 

I said, “House.  Meet my two dear associates, Bleach and Sponge. I see that you are not particularly well-acquainted.  But you will be working very closely with one another in the coming months, so lets all just get cozy, hmm?”

The thing about forty year-old grout is that, ick. 

But here’s hoping the zombies will be discouraged, and at least I feel ten times less like breathing into a paper bag when I sit on the floor to bathe the babies. 

This scrubbing frenzy was just what I needed anyways.  Because I do not have my beloved kitchenaid mixer, Peanuts.  I do not have my flour sifter. I do not have pans, and so therefore, I cannot bake.  Scrubbing is the next heir in line for stress-smashing, and today was a big day. 

It was Little One’s first day of school without me.  The first day, J and Miss and I all accompanied Her the whole time. The next day, just I did.  Then I came with Her but left partway through.  Yesterday, I walked her there and then hid out in the office, mentally chewing my nails off all morning.  OK all hour and a half.  This first week is half-time. 

But today.  Today J took Her, dropped Her off, and came home.  Where I was deep in pools of Clorox, the better for the fumes to keep my mind off of the fact that my BABY was at school, all by herself, without me there. At all.  Even a little. 

A tough day, guys. 

Separation anxiety. Feelings of abandonment. Fear of the unknown.  The hesitating, the tears. 

All me, of course. 

Yesterday we arrived at school and She announced, “I’m so ‘CITED for mine school day!” When I lagged behind at the threshold, She turned and asked, “You comin’ mommy?”  When I said no, that I would see Her after school today, She said, “Ok! Bye-bye!” and blew me half a kiss over Her shoulder as She walked in. 

At the end of the day She proudly showed me the picture She had made.  On the walk home, Her little hand in mine, She looked up at me and smiled.  “Mommy! Today at school, I not whine! I not do any cryin’!

I'm so, so proud of my baby girl. My big girl, actually.  I'm so happy for this new territory in Her life, where She gets to have one that's just Hers, that's not completely also mine.  I'm happy for Her because She is a Person, a real one, and She deserves an existence of Her own; She deserves to make Her own way in the big world and to see for Herself that She can do it Herself.
I'm happy for Miss because it means time for Her to be the center of the universe, which every baby should be sometimes.
I'm happy for me because I get to see the thrill in Little Ones' eyes when She has something new to tell me about Her big adventures, because I get to snuggle with my little baby in the quiet morning, and I get to have some time to get things done while Miss sleeps and I can know that Little One is happily engaged elsewhere. 
But I'd be lying if I said I wasn't just a little sad for me, too.  Because I miss Her.
And because it's the kick-start to something inevitable. 
Little One and I started out like a zipper, entirely enmeshed in each other, literally a part of one another.  But as life goes, that little zipper falls, and we peel away from each other, bit by bit.  Oh I know that when it comes down to it, we'll always be connected.  But because we're destined to be two grown-ups someday, we have to come apart, bit by bit.  It's a good thing.  But bittersweet. 
I've been thinking about how odd it will be, now, when She tells a story that doesn't quite make sense, and I won't instantly know what She's talking about, because I won't have the context.  Because I'm not there anymore, for all Her little moments in life. She's out having little moments without me! 
Good for Her.  I'm proud.  I'm happy! I have to go clean something.

Gulf Zombies

Like I said, we like it here.  But we are waging a bit of a war, at the moment.   

It all started when Little One’s most recent fever kicked off a couple of nights ago.  She wailed for us from down the hall.

I attended to Her. 

Then I shuffled back to bed, bare feet, half asleep.  I heard this noise:

Skitter.  Sk-itter skitter click click. 

I saw something in the shadows flick by.  I’m half asleep- it is the middle of the ever-loving night people- and so I’m all dull and confused.  I walk closer, to see what it is.  Closer.  I pad my naked, vulnerable toes within inches of this funny noise.  And then.  A long- TOO LONG- silhouette can be made out against the wooden floor.  It moves.  TOWARDS me, holy hell! Right at me!

So I shriek (the heck with sleeping children! I swear the thing is after me!) and do the sissy-girl-freak-out dance; flipping my hands out and kicking my knees up to my chest, aaalll the way back to the surely fortress-like security of the air mattress.  Where I continue hopping around, so that J is bobbling up and down like we’re playing “crack the egg” on a trampoline. 

He’s trying to get me to behave as if I were a half-rational adult or something, all the while the dang SKITTERing is still heading for me!
GAH!  AHHH! UUUug!!!

A ROACH. 

Don’t laugh.  Don’t. DO not.  Don’t even be all “sheesh it’s only a bug, those don’t even bite, I thought it was going to be a rabid python or something, blah blah.” 

This thing was menacing!  It was at LEAST two inches long, fat, and mean.  It was mean, I could tell.  And it was chasing me! 

I like animals.  I like bugs, even. I carefully, almost lovingly removed a beetle from this same house only yesterday, tenderly setting him free in the garden.   I once had a pet tarantula for heaven sakes.  But there are three things that I can find no redeeming value for in this world whatsoever and they are scorpions, mosquitoes, and ROACHES. 

So I pranced at J- “Do something! Ack! It’s COMINGOVERHERE DO something! You- eek!- J.  J! You have to make it go away!”

And so, because he is my knight in shining pajamas, he battled that thing mano-a-mano with his shoe.  Smashed it up, threw it in the trash.  He loves me.  I was hiding under the covers.  I hate for it to be killed, almost as much as I wanted it not to exist.  But in the end, it was dealt with, J obligingly washed his hands with lots of soap, and we got back in bed.  We began drifting off. 

When I heard a noise. 

A shuffling, crunching noise.  A rustling about, if you will.  I heard a familiar footstep and knew what it was.

C: “E! Bad girl! Get out of the kitchen!”

J: “That’s not E.  She’s right here on my side.  It’s X.”  Poor E is always the scapegoat. 

C: “Sorry E.  X! Bad dog! Get OUT of the kitchen and go to bed!”

He was in there sniffing about the trash.  Gross.

He guiltily slunk back to bed.  Everything is settled down. 

We start drifting again. 
And then.

The rustling, Peanuts.  The crunching, moving around sounds.  They came again.  Loud and clear.

I sat up.  Two doggies, innocently curled in the corner.  J, just dropping off.  Crinkle crinkle. 

O.

M.

G.

It was the roach! Back from the dead! Clamoring through the trash heap to get its revenge! 

Can you imagine my reaction? Can you picture it? 
J had to get out of bed, dig that nasty, half-smashed thing out of the garbage, and re-kill it .  Then bag it up and throw it in the garage, just to be safe. 

The garage.  Oh yes. Where I have to go to wash and dry.  Where I was the next night, when I spotted some of Zombie’s relatives holding a war-strategy planning party.  Again, sissy-girl dance. J is called in to save the day.  Again with the shoes.  On my way back from the dryer- it is all the way across the two-car garage from the kitchen door- I try to avert my eyes.  I am both sad/guilty and just plain revolted by the crunched, crumpled little bodies on the floor. 
Ew ew eeeww. 

I haul in the clean clothes, I go out and put another load in.  But on the way back, I notice myself not averting my eyes. 

I beg J to tell me that he cleaned up the dead roach carcasses while I was inside. 

But he didn’t.  He didn’t! Which means one thing only.

That those dead, dead roaches got themselves up and walked away.  Maybe that big sucker was the same one from the last night, who knows. 

Here’s what I do know.  There are zombie. Freaking. Cockroaches.  IN MY HOUSE.  They are plotting against us, and they make me want to hurl. 

I marched myself right to the leasing office THAT DAY and demanded toxic poison all over the place.  But it’s not looking good for us! I mean, nuclear holocausts can’t kill these things, and we’re defending ourselves with flip-flops?!
Today J brought one down, but I knew it was going to go all night-of-the-living-arthropod so I begged him to make sure it was totally out of the house.

He all triumphantly reassured me that he had *flushed it down the toilet*. 

Great.  Ooooh, great. 

You know, Peanuts, those things can swim?!  So now, every time I have to pee, I’m sitting there all nervous, hurrying up, because I just KNOW that any second, an un-dead roach zombie is going to doggie-paddle up and-  

It’s a nightmare, people.  That’s all I’m saying. 

Hopefully the toxic poison people will come soon.  In the meantime, I want you people saying prayers, sending amulets, whatever people do to get rid of nasty, crunchy zombies. 

OH! And have I mentioned the blood-sucking, flying, come-out-at-dark creatures as well?! Zombie roaches. Vampire mosquitoes. 

We’re starting to suspect that we mistakenly moved to a D-list horror movie set. 

We expect Godzilla to walk by any moment. 

Oh but other than that, Peanuts.  Other than all that. 
Florida is super. Super nice.  

Arrived

Well Peanuts, here we are.  Here we are! 

Stories from our adventures along the way are coming.  Like it or not!

And in the meantime, we did arrive. 

We arrived on Saturday.

A few hours later, we got hold of the key.

After 24 hours, we were air-conditioned.

Two days later, we had hot water. 

The next day, we got a refrigerator. 

And! A washer and dryer!

That same day, we got a window in the master bedroom.  All in one piece, which is always good. 

Today, we got internet. Basic necessities covered!

And next Monday, assuming all goes according to plan this time, we will have beds to sleep on, clothes to wear, and all our other stuff. 

Good thing we did a camping trip! We came prepared. 

We have been sleeping on the floor, getting dressed out of backpacks, washing things by hand. Sort of camping in our new house.  But we’ve been far too busy exploring our new neighborhood and being stunned at this new reality of Little One being IN SCHOOL to be bothered by it in the least.  In fact, so far we are having a great time!
Lattes and fresh, made-to-order beignets for breakfast; fresh steamed shrimp and beer for dinner.  Sunshine and smiling, friendly people all day. 

I could get used to this, Peanuts. Yes.

We're in a great neighborhood just a few blocks walk from Little One’s school, there's a big playground across the street.  Park, community center, and dog beach just a few blocks the other way. Not bad! 

Our new house is older.  It has, um, character.  Popcorn ceilings, wood-paneled walls.  A very funky floorplan.  Groovy, I should probably call it.  It has- no seriously I am not even making this up- a turquoise toilet.With matching sink and floor!

But it has lots of space and light, and feels homey.  It works.  

In fact, other than the zombies, it’s great. 

checking in

tapping on my phone during a rare moment of cell coverage on our big adventure.  it's late and I have a terrible time capitalizing properly on this thing. but we are all doing fine; having fun, and collecting little tales for me to share with you later. some if what's coming? a human-animal hybrid, me in a ditch hugging six complete strangers, the inn-keeper Mary and Joseph should have had, and proof that the Wright brothers were gay.
yeah. tune in.

Moving on

Yesterday the packers came and put everything into boxes that make me giggle with their curiously spelled labels and shower of possessive apostrophes. "hat's" "clothe's" "toy's". "sihygn's". I think that's for signs. Most of them also have variations of the wrong last name, but I'm optimistic that we'll all end up together in Florida.
Last night we stayed up hours past bedtime petting animals and winning a pink Teddy bear at the county fair, camped out in the house among the "city of boxes", and woke up EARLY to the sunshine pouring in through curtainless windows. J has gone for coffee.
Soon the moving truck will come take everything away, and we'll be off on an adventure.
I can't wait!

Parenting Fail

It's a good thing it was our last dinner at our favorite Indian restaurant in MaryLand.
Because after Little One puked- epically- in her high chair and spilled rice on the floor, and Little Miss chose that moment to learn how to roll- OFF of the booth seat and under the table, where She commenced shrieking like a banshee on fire- I'm pretty sure we are not invited back.

At least everyone was ok, and Little One seemed to make the most of it. She was quite entertained that we stripped Her of the vomit dress and let Her ride home in Her undies. I had a terrible time corralling Her into the bath, as She ran around the house with one arm out in superhero style hollering, "I'm nakey trow-up gurl! I'm nakey trow-up gurl!!!"

I guess not all superhero powers are created equal. But seriously, I think She could scare off plenty of bad guys with that display. Plenty of waiters, too.

Enjoy Life- Check.

Today I started to feel actually ill from all the worry.
We still haven't rented out our house.
The movers are coming days before the Navy will allow us to leave.
There are medical appointments cancelled because we were in Texas that I can't get rescheduled.
A landslide of "goodbye" lunch dates and playdates and meeting-ups that we missed, I can't find time to fit back in.
The list of things that *has* to get done is impossible, Peanuts.  Im. Possible.
We planned our drive to Florida, conveniently forgetting that we will have TWO DOGS with us.  That changes a few things.
My grandaddy is in the hospital.
I'm starting to get sad about leaving.

This morning I was pouring over the calendar, with my phone in hand entertaining us all with the hold music we'd been listening to for nearly an hour, trying to fit events into little boxes that are already full.  I was worrying because it was almost 10am and I needed to be sorting through the mountain of Stuff in the basement that was supposed to be yard-saled last weekend, and now should be yard-saled tomorrow, and the laundry timer went off.  And the baby started fussing.
I started to get Worry Poisoning.  My stomach churned.  And the baby kept fussing.
So I went and picked Her up, 27 things on my mind, and She grinned at me.
A great big, watery giggly baby grin.  Just for me.  That grin, Peanuts, it whacked me upside the face! Ka-blam! It whacked me like a cute, drooling ton of bricks and it said, "snap out of it missy!"
And so.
I hung up the phone. I decided that we can wear wrinkled clothes.  I decided that goodwill can come pick up our "yard sale" in the morning.  I decided that if we don't see everyone before we go, we will skype them. I decided that there are dentists and hair salons and stores and things like that in Florida.  I decided that if our house is a mess, we can survive it until the movers pack up the mess next week. I decided that we can order pizza for dinner. I decided that things will work themselves out.
And I sat in the rocking chair with my babies and read stories, and cuddled and chatted about whatever came up, and then just rocked awhile, and then read some more stories.
Life happens.  It gets busy, it gets stressful.  In this Navy family, big changes like this are going to be part of the terrain.  I have no idea how we'll get through the next two weeks, but- we will.  And what I do know is that as life is going on, time is going on.  While I worry and plan and do chores and keep appointments, my babies are getting bigger.  They want my attention and my time so much right now.
And sometimes I feel like I don't have enough to share with them, but I have to remember that one day they won't want my time and attention so much anymore.  One day, I will want so much to be able to sit and hold them, rock them and kiss them.  And they will be too big. Too busy worrying, about other things. So I guess the laundry can just wait until those days to be wrinkle-free.
 So far today, nothing has been technically accomplished.  But yet, I feel better.  I turns out stopping and just being present is the perfect antidote to Worry Poisoning.  And although I didn't check anything off that big list, I did get to enjoy some precious moments that almost slipped away forever.  And my children got a message; that They are the top priority, no matter what.  That I value their time and attention as much as they do mine.
There's still a lot to do, and after spending an entire morning in a rocking chair, even more of it will never get done.  But that's just the point, I think. With so much to do,  I have to do the really important stuff first.

Memories

When I was little with my cousins, we spent ages in my grandparents pool. We stayed in there until we were so pruned we were pickled. 
In my memory, we spent years there. We lived in that pool, like mer-people, inhabiting an aquatic fantasy world that stretched through our childhoods. 
It wasn't just the supreme coolness of the fact that they had a pool- at their HOUSE.  It also had a diving board, and a scum-eating robotic creature named Nessie, and every kind of pool toy us mer-cousins could imagine. 
There were rubber sharks, remote-control ships, a wind-up frog that scutted across the shallow end.  Rings to dive for and every kind of floating boat/chair/animal/you-name-it to tip your cousins off of.  
I remember this one beach ball.  It was as big as me, it seemed- or bigger!- but some of the air had gone out.  Half deflated and smushy, it had almost the perfect buoyancy so that when I lay on it, it held me up exactly at surface level but was totally submerged. So that to all the world I appeared to be just floating along. Weightless. 
Almost. But the thing was, in order to keep it under me like that, I had to kind of prop my elbows on it and push down with my arms. 
If I got distracted or tired and let up just a little, it would come bobbing up. Enough that I'd lose my balance a bit. Have to scramble to get it back under and out of the way again. 
And of course there was always the possibility that I might forget myself altogether for a moment, let go. And then the thing would come shooting up with all the pent-up energy and aggression of having been Held Back- and slam me in the face. So I'd end up all sputtering and flailing arms, thrashing about for something to hold on to.  
Being here in Texas, after my Grandmother died, has been like that.
The reality of it all is still sort of submerged...I'm trying to keep my balance, long as I can. 
Partly because my Grandfather (understandably after 64 years) is kind of drowning. It's not the time for my spluttering and flailing. 
And partly because I do not want to let it go and whap me upside the head yet. This one...is hard. It's going to hurt.  
Focusing on the good things helps. Laughing when I can helps. My grandmother, for instance, was infamously emotional; brought to tears by any sadness, happiness, sweet memory. She always carried little packs of tissue, just in case.
While the family went to Oklahoma for the burial, I cleaned out her closet. The girls hit the dress-up clothes jackpot (Little One pronounced grandmother a "very princess" after discovering a rack of beaded/sequined dresses) and I am in cardigans for life. But most of the rest was donated. Before I took it all away, I was sure to empty all the pockets and purses. It was hard to do. It was sad to. But before long I was chuckling, as I slowly filled up the better part of a kitchen trash bag- *just* with little crumpled tissues.
It was just SO...her. Those unique little quirks are the hardest things to miss. And the best for helping me remember. That helps, too.
So does staying insanely, mind-splittingly busy. Which is good, because the movers come next week.
Isn't it funny how even when life has no right at all to go on...it does.

And because it keeps me floating, for now.  

Roaming

2 days ago, I packed a big bag in under ten minutes. I scooped my babies up out of their naps, and zoomed off to the airport. And I had a talk with Little One, about people. People and cell phones; how they are different. How when your cell phone dies, you can plug it in. It will wake up again. But that no, my grandmother doesn't néed her charger, because she was a person. When people die, they are gone.