Between Letters

I have a big catch up post coming soon. Or posts.  The problem is that these days I spend about 99.93454837% of my computer time emailing J.  Approximately. 
It turns out that taking the trash to the curb, and doing all the things J used to do at home, and minding munchkins by myself isn't so rough after all.  In fact, don't tell, but it's sort of a breeze!  I was kind of surprised by that! Easy peasy!
Uh..but.  It also turns out that holymolyohmygoodnessgeezelouise I miss that J.  It's sappy and a little pathetic and really not a breeze at all.  I was kind of surprised by that! Also! In not such a good way!
And so I spend like all my free time writing him emails and letters like a lovesick teenager, because it makes me feel better somehow to talk towards him, if that's the best I can do. 
Little One is in the same sappy love-boat.  She still wakes up crying for him.  Her stack of colorful letters to Daddy closely rivals my volume of emails. She creates elaborate plans in which She is building the BIGGEST boat EVER in the wor-wold and soon, maybe after nap, She's going to sail all through the ocean to J and get him and bring him back. And he will have to come, because Her boat is the BIGGEST.  She asks me to show Her where we are on the globe, and where he is.  She offers to go and help him do his job with teamwork so that he can get done faster and come home. We both sulk a little.
Even Little Miss misses J.  Sometimes something will remind Her of him, usually Her sister's pouting, and She'll go wandering the house, "Dada! DaDA! Daadeeeeeee!!" looking for him.  Sometimes the two of them pound into my brain from the back seat, wailing "Dada Dada Dada Dada!!" until I crash into a tree to make it stop.  Just kidding.  I say what I really mean, "I miss Daddy too."  
Really, it's all beautiful.  Because how lucky can a bunch of girls get, to have a J who is so wonderful that we miss him this hard, and it has nothing to do with what he does for us, and everything to do with just having him there. 
And of course, we have each other.  We keep each other pretty busy.  Plus, as Little One said, "We have to give our'chothers lots and lots and extra hugs, to fill up the daddy spots that are running out hugs, till he comes back with some more."  And we do!
Tonight Little Miss, who loves a bedtime snuggle but otherwise isn't really the huggy-kissy type, looked up at me and squinched up Her lips.  She held onto my ears, and planted a kiss right on my nose.  Then She leaned back, gave me a million-dollar Little Miss smile, and then placed a tiny kiss on my cheek.  My other cheek, My forehead.  My chin.  Both shoulders, and my nose once more.  Then She gave me another grin, and went to bed. 
I tucked in Little One who asked (as She always does) for extra extra snuggles and put Her arms around my neck.  Hugged me tight.  And told me that I am the BEST momma, ever the world had a momma, and She loves me SSOooooooo much. And She will even love me when I'm very very old, when She will carry me around- because She'll be so big- and do all the nice things I do like make breakfast and color with me. 
After those sweet goodnights, I went off to bed in a house that was very empty, very quiet.  Very J-less.  But I was thankful that my babies had given me such sweet reminders that I am not at all alone.  That I have the best fortification a heart could have- the love of children. My girls are wonderful.  A big part of why they are, is that they have J for a father.  What a gift that even when J is an entire world away from me, I have two pieces of him right here, to kiss goodnight. 

Pray-rer

Walking past Little One's room at nap time I hear:

"H-hello? Hello?  Mr God...Ms God?  My name is Little One, I'm three.  Hi. Um.  Well I have a very 'portant pray-rer for praying you right now.  And my pray-rer is could Daddy please come home? From the boat?  'Cause Daddy's boat is REALLY far away.  I want him to come home now, and jump me up and swing me around.  'Cause you know God I like that when he does that and it's fun sometimes and I miss mine Daddy.  And...um...ok.  'Member it is very. 'portant.  Thank you.  ...ok love you, bye-bye." 


Amen.

Call Me Crazy

I thought that I'd have all this free time while J is gone.  I figured I'd be posting stuff on here like, all the time! As it turns out there is very little time for anything other than errands and unpacking, organizing, cleaning, keeping everyone fed and safe, and the occasional something fun to pull us all back a few steps from the precipice of I've Had It!.  And sleeping.  Because at the end of a day here Peanuts I am TIRED. 
I've been up before the sun each day, hitting the yoga mat before the Littles rise in order to maintain a semblance of sanity.  And by the time I crawl into bed at the late hour of, oh, say...10pm, I feel like I've been balancing boulders on my head all day.
Which is why I feel so bad for the confused (but perfectly nice) elderly gentleman who had the misfortune of thinking I am Jim.  And calling me- SEVEN TIMES IN A ROW after MIDNIGHT until I finally blurted out "Please.  Please!  I really, really, am not Jim.  I don't know Jim, this is not his number and-its-after-midnight-here-and-I'm-REALLY-TIRED and could you please. Please. Stop. Calling me!"  
There was a long stretch of shocked silence. And then the poor guy went on for several minutes about how the number is a central time zone area code so he just could not fathom how it could be after midnight and he really did think he was calling Jim and do I have his number?  By then I had recovered my senses enough to politely tell him to leave me alone for the love of mercy.  He was apologetic.  And then he blessed me. 
And now I am a big big meany who tells off innocent old people who are perfectly nice and probably still praying for my mean, meany soul. 
But I do have some massive catching up stuff to post on here and I will get to it, I'm hoping, in the next week or so. Before my tired little brain heaves it all overboard in an attempt to preserve it's sinking self.  And before I get hit by lightning or something, since Karma clearly now owes me one. 
Come back around in a bit, guys, I'll have something up.  It might even be something exciting, like how I got hit by lightning, or how Jim showed up and kicked me in the shins for not taking any messages.  Could be interesting. 

Power Hour

Nine years ago today, I was in a rustic cabin on a mountain in New York.  It was a summer camp.  Like all the other staff, I had arrived early to prepare before hundreds of children from the shelters and foster care systems of Newark and NYC came flooding in.  Which nothing at all could have prepared me for, but there I was.  The others had gone on a team-building camp-out.  But as the medical director, I had to stay put in case there was some kind of emergency and someone had to be rushed back to the clinic. No one did. 
All of my friends back at college spent the eve of their 21st birthdays partying and staying up until midnight to have their "power hour"; drinking like a loon the minute they turned the magical legal drinking age of 21. Not something I was at all opposed to at the time, I might add.
Me?  There I was, many miles from the nearest party scene or alcoholic beverage, turning 21 at midnight in a sleeping bag on a rusted cot.  With no one around at all except for Speedy, the mouse who shared my room that summer.  It wasn't quite what I'd had in mind. 
But though it was by no means my first job, it was one I'd worked really hard for.  It was the first one I had sought out, applied and interviewed and been hired for, without a bit of help from anyone.  I hadn't known it was a Director's position until I arrived, and it was my first job being In Charge of something- with no guidance, no on-the-job training, no supervisor to tell me how to do it.  It was by far the most responsibility I'd ever had. It was the first time I'd been so far from home for so long. It was the first time I had cohabitated with a rodent.
That summer turned out to be life-changing for me. When I sat up till midnight that first week of it, watching myself turn 21, I knew it would be.  I was excited, I was proud. I felt ready to be Grown Up.  Ready to be part of something much bigger than what party to go to on Friday night.  Ready to believe in myself. 
I thought about all of those things as Speedy and I watched the moon rise high.  And I realized that I was experiencing the gift of a Power Hour that lived up to its name.  I still think of it as one of the best birthdays I ever had.
Tonight my kids are sleeping restlessly after a loooong day of fevers and vomit and boogers and tears.  I've scrubbed the soup pot, I've mopped the floors.  Far from some night-club "dirty thirty" extravaganza, I'll probably ring in my new decade in a rocking chair under a hot sweaty toddler, feeling snot ooze down my shoulder.  My friends and family, even my husband, won't be around to set any confections on fire for me, and my three-year old wept in pity tonight that I was having a birthday and there would be no party. 
Now.  I did have a high-style celebration already, and I'm swimming in cards over here.  But even if those things things were not there, my three-year-old wept for me. Because she loves me so.  Far from being alone, I have two of my favorite humans on earth by my side this birthday, and germy as they may be they are mine. As tired and cranky and sick of cockroaches and boxes as we all are, we are together and we are doing fine. 
This milestone birthday in many ways reminds me of the one I spent on that mountain.  It's the first time I've lived alone (without another grown up) in my whole life.  Ever.  It's my first real go at parenting and house-running and bill-paying and living without a partner to back me up.  My first time to try to help my child through something that really, truly hurts Her.  It's again a new level of personal responsibility, a new and foreign terrain, a feeling of being on my own to Figure It Out. 
And, just like last time, I'm not sorry. 
Like before I feel ready to learn, and stretch and grow, ready to jump into the next year (decade!) stronger and wiser and faster and more able.  Ready to believe in myself.  I suppose with all the gooey stuff my kids are exuding tonight, I could still call it a dirty thirty and be technically accurate.  But instead I think I'll just reach back to that 21st birthday and have myself another Power Hour. 
In three hours I'll be another year older, another decade older. I'm celebrating on my own. Because I know how to do that now- be on my own. Celebrate myself.  In the morning mirror I'll see some wrinkles here and there; I'll see the gray hairs creeping in.  I'll also take a step back, take in the bigger picture.  And see that power there, too. 
Happy 30th birthday to myself.  It's going to rock. 

Sunshine State

There are things about Florida that I will not miss. 
I will not miss the spray-painted K's strewn about the neighborhood.  Not a fan. 
I will not miss the small replica of the Dust Bowl on permanent display in the yard. I will not miss the turquoise toilet or the wood paneling in our fabulous rental home.  I won't miss the lack of options, particularly when it comes to health care for the Littles.  I clearly won't miss the dang zombies.
However.  I will miss the weather, both rain and shine.  I will miss the Southern manners.  I will dearly miss the (lack of) traffic.  I'll miss Joe Patti's fish market extraordinaire and the way they recognized us each Sunday and slipped Little One a free pink sorbet gelato.  I'll miss the quaint, New Orleans-style downtown with the lacy wrought iron and the espresso and beignets.  I'll miss my beloved yoga studio, our church, and with my heart bleeding will miss the preschool.  I'll miss the lazy familiarity of a small-ish town, the plethora of festivals and street fairs, and of course the incomparable beaches.  I'll certainly miss the easy flight school hours J kept while we were there. It was kind of like a very extended Florida vacation for us all. 
But what I will miss the most, for sure, is some of the people.  Especially these ones:

These people who sipped coffee in my living room on Friday mornings, gave me someone to bake for, and let me try out my rookie yoga teaching skills on them.  These people who listened and advised and commiserated and seriously cracked me up.  Friends whose lovely children were Little One's friends, so that they will be double missed.  Friends who have interesting things to say, who are fun to be around, and who bring over truck-loads of gorgeous hand-me-downs, stop by with spackle and breakfast on moving day, surprise me with jewelry just out of sweetness, or offer to let me (and my kids and my mother) sleep upstairs for a week and feed us everyday. 
The kind of friends who arrange for your husband to watch the kids before he leaves.  So they can whisk you off to a fancy brunch replete with mimosas, and a walk on the beach collecting shells to complete a gift that will always contain a piece of Florida. To remind me of the beauty I found there.
Funny but in the moving and traveling I've done so far, I've noticed that what I always miss most about a place isn't the places at all.  It's the people I happened to cross paths with as we were passing through.  I hope ours cross again soon. 

  

ZOMBIES -the sequel

Peanuts,
I know I have much better and more important things to talk about.  (I said more important- it's all relative right?)  But do you want to know what it on my mind right now?  What is the all consuming concern in my frenetic brain at the moment? 
It's this guy:

and his friends and family. 
I THOUGHT I DEFEATED YOU IN FLORIDA!!!!
No. 
They are back.  As in, They're baaa-aaaaaaack! Between the roaches and the mosquitoes here in Virginia, I'm starting to be very glad I don't have any first-born sons.  There is like some biblical plague business going on around here. This can't be normal. 
As I've explained to Little One, Cockroaches are just part of nature.  They can't harm us, they don't bite.  They just come in looking for food, or whatever.  I know this; I even managed to explain it in a calm. tone.of.voice.  and look placid (or creepily like someone trying too hard to look placid, but hopefully the former).  
But seriously.  EEW EWW YUCK ICKY YUCK YUCK EEEEEWWWW!!!!
They are the size of like, elephants people.  practically.  And they keep popping up. And today.
Today there were TWO skittering about downstairs within five minutes, just as Little Miss began whining "Nap! Nap-nap! Milk! Naaaap!" 
So I capped those suckers under plastic cups and put Miss to bed.  I gathered up my composure, I steeled myself for the double-ick, and I slid cardboard under cup #1.  I buried him at sea, said a little "sorry to kill an animal, bless the poor thing" prayer with a shudder, and moved on to cup #2. Sitting exactly where I left it, undisturbed.  Slid the cardboard under, carried it gingerly to the ....sea.  Dumped it.  NOTHING.  NOTHING in there guys! HOW.  How did it escape?! Without moving the cup?!  And, more importantly, WHERE IS IT now?!?  
Wandering around my house, spawning more zombies, that's where. 
So now, every time I see a little shadow or a speck on the floor, I jump like a mile.  I hope no one is peeking through the windows, or I might see a big white van pull up to the curb with a couple brawny orderlies pretty soon. 
Deployment is a humbling experience.  It reveals weaknesses and fears that I would otherwise not be forced to admit to.  Hopefully, in the end, it will make me stronger because of that. 
When J gets home, he's quite likely to see me with a bandana around my forehead, wearing combat boots and a studded tool belt stocked with Raid.  I'll probably have a steely glare and some leather accessories.  I'll be a time-worn, battle-hardened roach-zombie warrior. 
I'm looking into theme songs. 

....Hello?

....Peanuts?  Anyone still here?  Remember me?  Ya me either.  But here I am. 
We all made it safe and sound to our new home. There was much chaos and confusion, and plenty of hopping as the US Navy screamed, "DANCE, MONKEY, DANCE!" and it all swirled around in a giant tornado of unanswered questions and packing paper and phone calls and remembering to breathe, and then somehow or other, it all settled out.  And so.  The Littles and I are here; we are Sorting Things Out.  J is on a boat, bobbing about in a big ocean somewhere in the world, and the doggies think they have ascended into doggie heaven in the enormous back yard.
I'm a bit shell-shocked.
I have stories for you Peanuts, I mean I have things to tell you people!  But I'm also really trying to get into early bedtimes, since Little Miss has an almost eerie, uncannily precise internal clock and is up hollering "milk!" at exactly 5:50am rain or shine.
But in the meantime.  Here are a few random thoughts since our last chat:

-It is really, really fun to explore a new place.  There is tons of cool stuff here! It's so exciting!
-It is really, really nice to have a good friend here.  It makes life at the moment feel a bit like riding a runaway elevator.  It still feels like falling, but at least there is a floor beneath my feet.
-I miss my friends in Florida.  They rock.
-There is a lot of support in a military community.  Especially during a deployment.  I have had random strangers practically falling all over themselves to give me their liver,  if ever I should need it.
-There is nothing like sisters.  Mine are the best, and that's a whole post of its own.
-The trash does not take itself to the curb.  This has been a really disappointing discovery.
-I am both proud and slightly disturbed by how good I am getting at dealing with cockroaches.
-My kids are the most fun, amazing, fantastic, incredible little people ever. If I had to be stranded on a deserted island (or, less hypothetically, in a foreign suburban jungle) with anyone, I would pick them.
- There's not much sweeter than witnessing the tangible potency of your child's love for Her family.
-There's not too much harder than seeing your child sad and hurting and missing.
-Thank the high heavens for email.
-A good way to cheer up small children is to take them to the park.  And stand on an ant hill. In skinny jeans.  Turns out ants-in-your-pants actually is as funny as it sounds.  If it's your mom's pants, of course. 
-I miss J.
-I can live on not too much, not too fancy.  But coffee is a must.
-"I'll just paint it!" is NEVER as simple as it sounds.
-"I'll do it on my own" is never as scary as it sounds.

Well it's time to get to that early bedtime.  I hope you haven't given up checking in here, because your words and keeping in touch and saying hello mean a lot all the time, but especially now.  It's good to have friends no matter how far-flung they may be; it's good to have a Peanut Gallery to hear from, too.

Healthy Outfit

Little One at the pool-

"Look! Mommy is wearing hers new zucchini!"

In Case You Think She's Nothing BUT Sass

 
Little One: "Mom.  MOOOMMM!!! Oh! Mommy!"

C: "HI Little One. What is it?"

LO: "Oh, Mommy.  You know.  You are the best laundry."

C: "...I...am?"

LO: "Oh yes.  Yes, Mommy, you are the best laundry, and the best cooker.  In ever the whole wide world and Mommy! You is the BEST best mommy in all the whole big world, ever there can be!"

C: "Well thank you!  That was very nice!"

LO: "You are welcomed.  And mommy, I love you so much.  Thank you for laundry, mommy. You make me happy I can wear all my favorite pretty clothes when you clean them for me. You are a nice mommy."
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Little One (at bedtime): "Mommy, you know I love you."
C: "I love you too, Little One."

LO: "But mommy, I love YOU a truck!"

C: "You love me a truck?"

LO: "Yup! No, no! I love you a WHALE! NO! MOMMY! I love YOU a big, BIG DINOSAUR! I love you SIXTEEN! Sixteen dinosaurs!"
C: "Wow! That sounds like a lot."

LO (nodding gravely): "Oh, yes mommy.  I love you much of a sixteen dinosaur, and that is the much as you can get."  

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 Little One (as She's waking up for school): "Mmmmm....mommy! A'morning mommy.  Oh my, mommy.  I was having a dream!"

C: "You were? What kind of dream?"

LO (grinning): "Well, mommy.  Wow.  I was dreaming 'bout mine school.  And mine teachers and friends.  And I dreamed about you and Dada, and Missy and the doggies.  I dreamed our whole family at mine school, and our whole family was together and we all were just.  We just.  We were just all loving our 'chothers very much!"

C: "Wow! That was your dream?"

LO (sighing): "Ooooh, yes! Mommy, mommy.  It was a SWEET dream." 

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Overheard from the next room:

LO: "Missy?  Missy what is a matter?  You are worried to be sad when daddy is on the big boat from Va-gin-ya?"

Miss: "Ahhhhbgub."

LO: "Oh, ok.  Ok.  I see, I unnerstan.  Well, Missy.  Let me tell you.  It's ok because I will still be your sissy in Va-gin-ya and I can take care for you all the time.  And mommy tol' me she doesn't ever run out from hugs for us, and me too! I can have so many hugs for you I will have lots than enough and some kisses too.  To make you feel better.  And in Va-gin-ya if you want to, we can have a sleepover.  So jus' don't cry your baby tears or have any fits, because ever'thing will be jus'.....it will be jus' ok!"

Update From The Wire

Holy cow people.  The countdown is on. 
Less than a week to go and things are a bit crazy around here.
After averaging 13 hours a day of driving around and stalking rental properties, for four days, I finally decided on the first one I saw.  A rigorous comparison study showed it to be the best, and now of course I love it, and have already succumbed to my type A-ness and sketched a scale floorplan of it and penciled in all my furniture.  Unfortunately, the property manager is some kind of a sadist, and refuses to actually send me a lease to sign, despite my continual phone calls ("b-but, you've been saying 'tomorrow' for over a week!") and desperate email in which I begged her not to cause my little family to be homeless when we arrive NEXT WEEK. NEXT WEEK!  Hello, woman, I have no legal place of residence for my children NEXT WEEK and if you think I am crazy by email, wait and see what happens when I am there in person.  NEXT WEEK. 
Ahem. 
But.  Other than that. And the fact that Missy has a 104 degree fever and is (TMI alert) squirting poo on everything, the complete chaos of a partially-packed house and the tangible impending-deployment tension between me and J, other than that. Everything is peachy. 
Since (clearly) we have nothing else going on, we threw a backyard farewell party for a cozy 50 people last weekend which was completely fun and worth the dishes (pictures coming... someday).  I was surprised by a fabulous goodbye brunch from the incredible friends I will be leaving here (sappy emotional post coming...someday).  A talented, generous friend took some precious family photos (coming someday), another is taking us into her home and under her wing for a few days after the movers come. I got to see Little One singing Her sweet heart out with Her class, and Her first ever ballet recital is coming up (photo/sappy post combo...someday). We get to see J get his wings tomorrow, we just had a lovely visit from his parents, and my mom arrives today. 
So you see.  The scariness and the stress and the preemptive missing begins to crash my sanity level to the floor- but just then the sweetness of life and the goodness of friends and family weighs on the other side of my heart-scale.  Balance. 
Life always offers it.  It feels like walking a tightrope at times; even balance can be scary.  But it's a malleable kind of scary; the kind that morphs into and out of excitement by the step.  It's sort of a teetering balance walk- scary, exciting! scary. exciting! and sometimes it's sort of exhausting.  But in my own personal opinion (you might say I belong here in the circus) it's a whole lot better than sitting still. 

Math Has Always Bugged Me

I've been in Virginia looking for a house to hang out in for the next couple of years. It's hard and I miss my kids so much that I can't even enjoy the magical bed in the hotel that makes itself each morning. Ok I enjoy it a LITTLE. But mostly I miss my kids and the way they fry my brain by the end of the day. It's also getting more and more real that soon they will be frying it 24-7. In this suburban jungle devoid of familiar natives. The time J will be far away is stretching out like a yawning canyon we are rolling towards on a runaway train car. It's not that we won't be fine, it's not that I can't do it or make it all work. The thing that's bugging me after a few days away is multiplication. It's the multiplying by months and months how much, in just a few days, I miss him. Maybe it won't be as noticeable, with the fried brain though. Theres always that.

I Have Warehouses Full of These

 Trying to get Missy ready for bed:

Little One: "I JUST SEND FOR TIGER LILLY! I SEND FOR PETER PAN!!!!"
 
C: "Little One, can you please do your beautiful singing more quietly?"

LO: "Sorry Mommy! I'm jus' a person, I wasn't borned wif a volume button!"
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C: "Little One! Time to clean up your books, please!"

Little One (with a sweeping bow): "Ooooohhh, yes.....your MAGIC-STEE!"  
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Playing a game where She told me to ask Her some big riddles:

Little One: "Mommy! These riddles is easy stuff! Ask me some tricky ones!"
 
C: "Tricky ones?! Ok, here's a really tricky one.  What is the meaning of life?"

LO: "Hmm, ok.  Life is like a Big Thing, what cuts down trees. Next one!"

C: "Ok... why do we have to grow up?"

LO: "Because we eat food, silly!"

C: "Ok, how about this one- why do Mommies and Daddies decide to have a bunch of silly children?"

LO: "Oh, Mommy.  Because them LOVES children."
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Little One: "Mommy, is you the boss 'round here?"
C: "Yes. Yes I am."
Little One: "Oh, ok. Ok, you can be the boss in charge mommy."
C: "I know. Thank you."
Little One: "Uh huh....but...well. You is only a tempa-ary boss, like a 'tend kinda boss. The REAL boss is gonna be ME."
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Halfway through a fairy tale:

Little One: "Um....Mommy? Mommy can we skip this part, and some parts.  Maybe we can jus' read another story right now."

C: "Ok, we can do that.  Why would you like to stop the story?"

LO: "Uh, Mommy it has this witch in it and some things...it's getting a bit too scary I think.  Les jus' skip the scary stuff today, and maybe we can read it later.  Maybe we can read this scary story when I'm growed bigger.  I think maybe we can try again when I'm fifteen." 
  -------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Little One: "Miss!!!! Miss!! Oh, Missy-miss, what-ever matter?!"

C: "Little One, walk away please. Missy is having a big time-out."

Little One: "Oh! Yay!(dancing and clapping in Miss's general direction)  Yaaaaaaay! Missy is learning the rules!!!
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C: "Little One, you need to clean up your puzzle before you can play jenga."

LO: "Uh..ok....ok Mommy. How bout THIS plan-"

C: "Nope! Stop right there. One game at a time is the rule."

LO(hands on hips): "Mommy! I can't ba-weave this! Please, you are ba-rrupting me, Mommy. Ba-rrupting is not pawite!"

C: "Hmm.... Ok.  You're right, interrupting is not polite.  I apologize for interrupting you. Go ahead."

LO: "OK! Here is a new plan, Mommy, this is the plan.  How 'bout AFTER I can play some jenga, these puzzle is going to stay RIGHT THERE and I'm NOT gonna forget it, mommy, I'm NOT and it will wait patiently right on the floor and then after I can play some Jenga then I will have a snack and then if Missy wants to play jenga too SHE can clean up that and THEN I can clean up the puzzle then, at that time. That's the plan."

C: "You have good plans sometimes, good planning.  But the rule is, one game at a time.  The rule is, we are responsible for our mess. So before you play jenga, you need to clean up the puzzle."LO (dropping Her hands and Her smile, starting to pick up puzzle pieces): "Mommy.  You know I love you sometimes.  But you is having trouble a'having today."
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Fire Station One

Last week Little One's class had their big field trip- to the fire station!  

Especially since Her grampa is a retired fire chief, this was a really cool opportunity. 

We all walked the mile there- a police officer stopped the traffic for us which was a big excitement.

VIP, people.  That's how we roll.

We got there and the kids got to ogle the trucks and get a safety lesson.  

 Then they got to get in and walk through the fire truck- very exciting stuff!  

Little Miss was there too. She really wanted to climb on the shiny truck.

We got to take a tour of the fire house and see the offices, sleeping quarters, kitchen. The firefighters leading our tour were very friendly and involved. Too bad they had the question/answer session in the hang-out room.  Um, yes.  Where you sleep is really amazing and all, but there is a GIANT TV BEHIND YOU.  The kids I talked with remembered nothing from this part except that at one point, there were kitties on the TV.  Little One (who is never allowed to watch actual TV) felt that She had been quite the rebel.  "Mama...I think so you should know that there was TV on in there!...and not easy kid TV...GROWNUP TV!...it easy had kerm-MER-shals!!"  

 The favorite part of the firehouse, by majority vote, was the red hallway.

 Grownup TV, a red light district...this is all seems to be getting a little beyond G -rating. But no, the red light is just to help the firefighters eyes transition when running to a call out of a dead sleep. Clean up those minds Peanuts!  Another big hit was when one of the moms got to dress up in firefighting gear.  At first I was all super impressed that they have to wear 100lb of clothes on a work day, but then I remembered my own job. I'm pretty sure 50lb of kids+the mary-poppins purse+groceries is not too far from that. Besides, those outfits may be hot and heavy- but they don't wiggle!  

Of course, since I typically don't carry that load into a burning building, they still win in cool points.

 The height of the trip was when the kids got to work the firehose themselves! Little One aimed the water at a cone and knocked it down.  Pretty fun!

 In fact it was so fun, that some of the parents couldn't resist giving it a try too.

 At the end all the kids cheered and lined up to walk back.  Little One was straggling, though, staring back at the firemen.  Finally She looked up at me with these plaintive little eyes. I knew what She wanted.  "Ok, Little One. Go ahead. But be quick!"

She ran back over to the guys, shyly thanked them for having us, and then worked up Her courage to ask for what She really wanted. 

 "Um, will you please give me a hug and can I please have a picture wif you also?"

Of course he said yes. When you're a hero, it's all in a days work!

We had a great time and learned a lot of interesting things about fighting fires.  And as fate would have it, the very next day we got to see that firefighting in action! Across the street from us, someone's Porsche started sending up 15 foot flames and we all walked over and stood by the engine to take advantage of a great real-life teaching moment. We got to see them use the hose, the extinguishers, and the crowbar axe!  

The best part for me was getting to point out to my girls that one of the firemen was a firewoman.  

J was worried it might be bad form to stand there staring, but once the fire was out one of the guys walked over, all smiles, to meet the kids and shake their hands.  Little One was star-struck. 

Our unexpectedly extended fieldtrip ended up being very educational.  We learned how to prevent fires, how to react in case one happens, what real fires look like and how damaging they can be.  We learned about a profession and the people who choose it.  And, one of my favorite parts? We learned that there are real-life heroes- right here among us!

And also...

...Heroes-to-be. 

Not Sure What Was More Painful

A couple of days ago, I pulled something in my neck.  It was probably from the bar fight I got into.  Probably the part where I was cracking a chair over this biker dude and screaming, "what now?! WHAT?!"
Ok.
Ok fine.  It was from pushing my kids on a swing.
Which is even more embarrassing than a bar fight, right? Pathetic.
But anyways, it probably could have been more embarrassing.
So I hobbled around- to preschool, to ballet lessons, to the store, the post office, like a toy soldier- ramrod straight, turning my whole body rather than my head (try checking your blind spot like that. It's pretty silly). And occasionally wincing and involuntarily yelping like a tourettes patient. For two days. 
But even so. It wasn't all that embarrassing. So.
My amazing, incredibly generous friend did this amazing, incredibly generous thing and bought me a massage.  "It's non-refundable and it's already done, " she said, "So you can't say no. Go today."
I mean, wow. I have had one massage before; a gift from my mom right before my wedding.  So I was all giddy like any lottery winner, and I showed up early and changed and then it all started.
There was this very peaceful, calming music playing. I think it was a harp or something.  But then at the same time, there was some Amy Winehouse. Some Adele.  Not super relaxing, but, you know, I was like, "hey, I like Adele!" Sort of interesting music taste for a ponytailed man with biceps the size of my head, but you never can tell about people.  Sort of odd to be playing it along with a soundtrack of tinkling water and wind chimes, but maybe that's like his thing. I don't know.  I just went with it.  I don't know how these things go people! It was my second massage ever!
So this goes on for at least 20 minutes. It starts to get kind of annoying. I mean it's just so loud. At which point the guy finally "ahem"s and goes, "um...is that your phone? Are you...expecting a call?...or something?"
I was all confused for a sec and then I realize he's talking about his weird music.
"No! I thought that was yours?!" 
"No, no. It's definitely coming from your purse."
And it was.
Apparently, when I had gone to turn my ringer off- because, you know, having the phone ring during a massage would be really embarrassing and rude- instead I had somehow, somehow turned on Pandora.  Which, honestly, I didn't even know I had on my phone.
How did I do that?!  How am I really that special a person that I can manage to mess up laying still.
I do not know, Peanuts. I do not know.
And really. Did I have to do it while I was in my skivvies with a perfect stranger? Come on now. 
On the upside, I feel about a million times better- I can even shake my head at myself in shame! And besides, it clearly filled my embarrassment quota. At least for the day.  

Mini-thon

Back in February, Little One's school had a fundraiser called the mini-thon.  The kids collected pledges, and ran a mimi-marathon on a playground track.  Little One was very excited for the big day.  She was very specific that Her hair needed a "zig and some zags" like lightning to make Her "really, super, extra fast!"  She arrived ready to race.

The kids all got set at the starting line.  The whistle blew!

 

 And they're off! Just look at them go!! But where is Little One?

Those kids are speedy.  They're onto another lap! But...where is Little One??

 Ooohhhh, wait.  What's that, in the upper-right corner? Just before the STARTING LINE? 

Oh yeah.  It's Little One.  And the other smallest kid in class.  Standing there looking not the slightest bit amused. 

The cheerleading section was confused

Her teacher tried to hold their hands and bring them around the circle.  A hug from mom and a pep-talk from dad were no help.  I ran with Her a few laps....ok I jogged in slo-mo while dragging Her.  Nope. These two conscientiously objected to the overt display of a hyper-competitive culture and the degradation of being made a spectacle of before a public that clearly did not appreciate their talent for standing there and being pretty!  Or.  They just didn't feel like it.  

For all Her theatrics Little One gets a bit of stage fright.  Too many spectators and cheers chase Her back into Her shell.  And this particular friend and Little One are two of a kind.  You can see in the group photo they are still presenting a united front in protest.

Well at least Her cheering section had fun. 

I'll show these ladies how to race!

When you're awesome, you get fans.

 And after the minithoning was over, These little cuties got to participate in an event they were much more interested in.

There's a smile!

 

When it comes to this activity, I assure you, She's a champ. 

Pristapulka

Did you know that the famous Mommy O is Bulgarian? Yep. In Bulgaria, they Pristapulka.  Yes they do! Believe it! And so when Little One was at the right age, just about to walk, Mommy O gave Little One a Pristapulka. She chose a calculator.   

Well, Mommy O is back in Maryland and so when Little Miss was about to really walk, we had to Pristapulka without Her.  But we tried to live up to Mommy O standards! Here's how it went:

In a Pristapulka, we choose lots of different things. Each has to be an object that could represent a profession.  So, a stethoscope (doctor/nurse), a calculator (accounting/math), a plane (pilot), etc.  We tried to get a good range of possibilities. 

We can't let baby see these things. Yet. Then we line them up at eye-level with the fledgling.  We all get ready and hold our breaths! 

Then we turn baby around, and let Her go.  She takes a few wobbly steps over, She surveys the items.  Then She picks one. 

Whatever She chooses first, is said to be the object that represents Her future profession.  Little Miss didn't even hesitate.  She went right for the laptop.  

She was pretty happy with Her choice.  

Then I brought out the round loaf of bread, covered in honey (to make life sweet, I think) and Miss and I held it.  Everyone else grabbed a chunk, ran away, and ate it. 

Because that's part of the tradition! 

Looks like we have a future geek on our hands! Although really, in this day and age? Computers are used in almost every job.  Good going, Missy.  Way to leave your options open! Whatever you do with those comp skills, we know you'll do great things. 

' I am so blogging this!'

A Good Heart

However She does have chronic cute-itis.

 When Little Miss was born, and they came to do Her newborn check up in the hospital, the Doc asked if
he could "borrow" Her.  I said yes, but of course I came along.  He lined up all the med students, residents, and interns, placed Missy in a bassinet in the middle, and said, "who can tell me what's wrong with this baby?" 
30 minutes later I sent J a message to tell him that our family was about to be followed by a SIXTH pediatric specialty team.  We are pretty special. 
Did you know that Little Miss was born with a teeny little hole in Her heart?  Well She was! It really was teeny, and it never bothered Her that we could tell.  Just the same, it was nice to go for Her follow-up appointment awhile back- where She held ever so still for Her echo, good girl- and see that it had closed itself right up so that we don't have to worry about it at all.  And also. Is this not the cutest little tiny hospital gown you have ever seen? Seriously I almost ganked that thing.
I hope that Her heart always mends so easily and so well.

Growing Strong

Since I've begun outsourcing my dairy capabilities recently, we have learned that Miss seems to have a problem with cow's milk.  But She chugs down soy with no issue so it's hardly a big deal.  Not for us, Peanuts!Today Little One asked why Miss wasn't drinking "cow milk" anymore and I told Her we don't think She can have it.  Little One threw a sagacious, protective arm around Her baby sister and said, "Ok Missy.  I can't have that eiver. But we like ours soy milk Missy, yes we do! And I can show you how we drink it, ever you want me to. We can have matchies milk drinks now! That can be so 'citing!"  Franky, the matching is kind of exciting. It makes it easier for me, in some ways.
Sometimes I look at Missy with Her round, round cheeks and squishy thighs and Her smooth, clear skin, and I sigh.  I am so happy for Her, so happy She's so healthy.
Especially around 7 months, which is the age things hit the fan with Little One, I have often found myself playing with or feeding Little Miss and thinking- this is so easy! So fun! This is what it's supposed to be like; just Taking For Granted. 
Peanuts (don't we all know it) it is SO, so nice to have the luxury to take things for granted. 
Little One is OK,  and She certainly broke the Joy Barrier in my life and left it far in the distance.
But for awhile there it felt a bit dicey. 
I remember when we were in North Carolina and She was a scaly, oozing mess of constant, miserable screaming.

I remember all those ER visits, all those needles and needles and needles.

This girl.

Have Epipen Will Travel

This girl is tough.  And I'm proud of Her...but  sometimes I've wished Her infancy had been just a little less character-building.  It makes me so glad that we figured it out; that even though we have challenges that continue to come up, She overall is doing really well.
And that Little Miss, my baby, is somehow miraculously growing and thriving in such a way that if I wasn't all the time reminded of the contrast between Her babyhood and Her sister's, I could very well take things for granted. 

Her one year check up took about 3 minutes.  I don't take that for granted.  I don't want to.  But- kind of like I won't actually eat the whole chocolate cheesecake in my fridge all at once- it's kind of nice to just know that I could.

4-29 and other numbers

3 job changes for him, 3 job changes for me. 3+3.

4 countries and 2 trips across the world and back. 4+2.

5 houses and 1 mortgage. 5+1.

2 dogs. 2 kids. 2 many moves and trips. 2+2+2.

It all equals 6 -years. 

Happy anniversary to us J!

 

6 years ago we had no idea we'd be celebrating with 2 Littles at 5 am, when they woke up early and wanted to snuggle before breakfast.  

But I'm pretty sure we'd have approved.  

Synonym, Homonym, Homophone

One of Little One's favorite games to play is "synonym, homonym, homophone".  She made it up. 
In the game, She tries to come up with two words and decide whether they are synonyms (words with like meanings but different sounds- 'sofa' and 'couch'), homonyms (words with different meanings but the same sound and spelling- 'duck' like a bird and 'duck' like bend down') or homophones (words with different meanings and spellings but the same sound- 'pear' and 'pair').
We've played this game a ton, so now it's fairly common to be engaged in conversation and have Little One suddenly break out with "bare means naked? That's a synonym! And hey! Bare like naked and bear like a animal, bear and bare. A homophone!", or to ask if words like "there and their" are spelled alike so She can classify them appropriately.
Now, Little One is also pretty good at talking (girl gets enough practice, I tell you), but She does have some lingering baby in Her dialect- the tendency to pluralize random things, for instance. The occasional use of "them" instead of "those", that kind of thing.  And although She has developed the ability to pronounce Her "R"s and "L"s correctly (and quite often does), She sometimes still calls Her friend Layla "Waywa" or get "Wiwy" excited.
Yesterday, She was getting ready for Her nap and a light bulb went on over Her head. So She runs to the closet and races back with a broom:

"Mom! Mommy! Guess what I jus' figgered out! A homonym! Sweep! Sweep, and sweep. Homonym!"


She beamed at me, but I was confused.

"Are you thinking of Mary Poppins? Like a chimney sweep and sweep the floor?"

LO: "No, no mom.  Sweep.  Like sweep the floor, and go to sweep. For nap time. Sweep, sweep. Homonym!"

The conversation that followed was too much like "who's on first" for me to remember it all.  It was very confusing.  In the end we got it straightened out and I tucked Her in for nap.  I passed by Her door a few minutes later and peeked in to see Her sitting in front of Her mirror watching Her mouth move and practicing- "Sweep. Sweep. Ssswwwww. No. Luh luh. suh-luh, sssweeep.  Swee-no! Luh. Sw-luh...."  and sighing frustratedly, and trying again.

Oh, sweetie.  You'll get it.  I guess it's just growing pains.  Like a puppy who has to catch up to its ears, some silly things happen when your brain grows faster than your mouth.