Very brief update

So, deployment. 
Over it.

What Sisters Are For

Missy was feeling cross before naptime and was grumping about joining us for story time.  Little One started to get frustrated and then She took a deep breath, and put on Her cheerful voice.
LO: "Oh Missy! Missy Miss what is a matter?  Don't you want to read stories wif us?"
Miss: "Mph. No!"
LO: "Oh. You is sure cranky today."
Miss: "NO! Nononono no."
LO: "Oh Missy.  Silly Miss Miss.  Don't you know that we love you?  We is Mommy and Sissy and we love you baby LittleMiss.  Come over here and read some stories.  We just want to snuggle you and be all together.  Don't you want to be all together?  Come on now, fweetie, we are who loves you and we is all a family. We can't be all a family without you!"
Missy: "Mommy. Sissy."
LO: "That's right! Mommy and Sissy and we love you! We're a family aren't we Missy Miss?"
Missy stops and stares at us a minute.  She seems to be undergoing a serious internal conflict.  Her eyes dart back and forth between Little One and I.
LO (whispering): "We're a family aren't we Missy?"  She holds out Her arms.
Missy suddenly breaks into a headlong, unsteady run towards Her sister.  She is emphatically bobbing Her head "yes" and calling "Yep! Yep! Yep yep!" as She comes rushing, headlong, crashing into our laps and snuggling in close.  She pats us each in turn, "Mommy Sissy! Mommy Sissy!" and Little One is giggling.
"See! See Little Miss I told you that we are happy all together, cause we loves you! Yes we do! You can be happy now Missy! Yes you can."
Missy sighs and smiles and points at the story in my hand.  "Booka!"
I gather them up, a jumble of arms, legs, pudgy this and that. And we read.

Teen-er-agers. OMG.

Little One thoughtfully watched students from the nearby high school walking home along our street as we pruned the jasmine. 

LO: "Teeneragers...them just goes around, wherever thems want to, without them's mommies and daddies. "

C: "Well.  They do get to go lots of places without their parents with them.  But they can't just go anywhere they want to."

LO: "No?"

C: "No! They have to ask their parents if it's ok first.  And they ALWAYS have to tell their mommies and daddies where they are going.  Even teenagers have to follow rules and be safe."

LO: "Hmm.  Well.  When I'M a teenerager, I'm going to go here and there, and all over a'place, all by mine self!" 

C: "Oh you will go lots of places by yourself, yes.  Because you will be responsible and safe and Mommy and Daddy will trust you.  But you will still have to tell us where you are going, first."

LO: "Oh, well...tee hee! Teeeheeheee!  Well Mommy.. when I am a teenerager, I might....I might jus'...I might jus' tell you I am going to the store, or somepin. When ACTUALLY I will be going to somewhere! Like the ZOO! Haahahaaa!" 


Peanuts, seriously.  I am in for it.  And MOM! Stop laughing so hard. 

Excellent.

*TMI, icky stuff post.  You're warned. 

It's also unnecessarily long, but some of you have asked me about my thoughts on potty training.  

So, ha.  That's what you get for asking!*

Folks.  It's Potty Time. 
Many of you know that I have strong opinions about potty training.  Two, specifically.

1) Yes, kids can be potty-trained well before their second birthday.  Don't tell me they can't; they can.  It's not that hard, either, and yes they can.  Yes they can.

2)The limiting factor in potty training is primarily the parent's potty-training-readiness, not the child's.  And further.  That is a perfectly acceptable limitation. 

In the case of Little One, I did potty training in the method I put together over years of observation and experience with other people's kids, that works for me.  I started early, went slowly, did not ever force, and used a combination of no diapers and positive reinforcement for the final push through to consistently dry undies. 
The thing is (in my opinion of course) if you start really early, potty training just sort of happens early as a matter of course.  Alternatively, you can wait until the child is like three or four and just make a deal or convince them to one day decide to make the switch. 
But the age most of us parents are ready, is the in-between.  The twos.  The age when all children are pre-programed to oppose and resist anything we tell them to do.  When their innate reaction to everything we say is "NO." How does this make sense? No wonder so many people describe potty training as a nightmare.
Ha.  Well.  With Missy. About the time I knew we should be introducing the idea, we were getting ready for moving and deployment.  And then those things came, and, well.  See number two, above.  This Mama was just not ready for the time and effort it takes to teach such a skill. 
And so my recent efforts to broach the subject have not gone over well.  Miss had learned- from me- that the place you "go" is a diaper.  So, when I stripped Her of that, She would just...not go.  She would hold it for hours and hours, all morning guys, until nap time when finally I put Her in a diaper.  There were plenty of times She needed to pee and so She went and fetched Herself a diaper and brought it to me.  Or followed me around doing the pee-pee dance, begging me for a "di-di" so She could go.  And there was the time She gave up on me, and just went and got a diaper, spread it out on the floor, sat on it, peed, and went back to Her puzzle.  She flat refused to even sit on the potty- unless it was cleverly disguised as a reading chair!  In which case She used it for just that. 
I was beginning to think that I was seriously going to have a two year old in diapers. 
Then one day. 
She came to me.  She had a clean diaper in one hand.  She had two clean wipes in the other.  She handed them to me, laid down on the floor.  And said, "Mommy, Miss poo-poo.  All icky.  Wipe, pees!"
And I was like.  Ok seriously.  It. Is. Time. 
But first of all, there was that missed window.  And secondly, this Missy.  Wow guys.  She is fiercely independent and stubborn.  So I needed a plan. 
I thought about it.  I decided to use two of Miss's most prevalent attributes; that independence, and Her intense desire to do everything Her sister does. 
First I gave up on the little potty.  I don't use it, Little One doesn't, and Miss does not appreciate being babied.  I dug out the seat Little One had used as an older toddler, the little seat with the attached step that goes right on the real potty, so She can climb up by Herself and not fall in. 
I showed Missy how it worked.  Hmm.   She was intrigued.  I left it out during school hours, let Missy check it out and get used to it.  Then after school, we had a bathroom pow-wow.  First, Little One showed Missy how to use the new seat.  We made a big deal over how cool and grown up it was.  Then I looked my too-smart-for-my-own-good daughter in the eye, and explained to Her in a cheerful but fully adult tone of voice, that mommy and sissy do not wear diapers.  We do not potty in our undies.  Big girls go in the potty.  Missy is getting to be a big girl, too.  If She goes in the potty, She can have a cookie, like a big girl. 
At the word "cookie", Her eyes got very big.  I try not to introduce refined sugar before the age of two.  So Miss is not typically allowed cookies. And sometimes, She has to see Little One get a cookie, and hear that She is not old enough yet.  So the cookie (actually a tiny chunk of a digestive biscuit) is a Big Deal. 
She climbed up and looked at us.  She tried.  But She looked stressed; we were just staring at Her, waiting!  I was afraid She'd crack under the pressure guys! So to lighten things up, I made a little joke, asking in a silly voice, "pee-pee? Are you in there? Come out, you!" Missy laughed.  And then. She did it.  Her first intentional pee in the potty, ever. 
This is all I needed guys! A breakthrough! Because afterwards, we all cheered and clapped, and then. There was a cookie. She really got to have it and eat it, and it was just as amazing as She always imagined.  And so, within the next hour, I handed out four more cookie bits.  To keep the momentum going, we went to the store and picked out a box of animal crackers-er, cookies, just for Missy, just for potty, and put them in a special jar.  Now, every time She goes She's allowed to choose one. 
She can only have it if She actually goes. Not just if She asks for one.  Not if She begs.  Not if She says pee-pee.  Not if She just sits on the potty.  She has tested all these theories, and identified a direct link between pee in the potty and cookie in hand.  And She never has to complain about wet undies/diapers, and never has to hold it when She needs to go.  A revelation! 
So now the hard part begins.  For Her, learning exactly when to alert the mama so that She makes it in time, learning how to wait a little bit sometimes, learning that it's worth it to stop even the most engrossing book or game when She needs to go.  For me, it's the part where I can't really go anywhere and I spend half the day running to the bathroom, waiting, cheering or not, washing hands, repeat.  It's hard when there's another Little demanding attention.  It's really hard when there is 50-60 minutes of driving required daily for preschool commuting.  But it's time. And it can be done!
Wish us luck, Peanuts!  This part is always an adventure. 

Security Booklet

For awhile there, I was getting a bit worried about Little Miss.  At an infant age when Little One had been all about reading, Miss was only interested in books if there was counting involved, or to eat them.  And not for long.  It seemed like books were just not Her thing.  Certainly not as much as blocks, or dumping stuff out of other stuff. 
I tried to just accept it and roll with Her preferences.  After all.  We can't all of us be complete book nerds. I suppose. And I loved Her the same! I did! I just wasn't sure how to raise such a creature over the long term. What does it....do?
But! Never you fear, Peanuts.  She was just holding out on us. 
She still has a passion for counting and blocks. But Missy has gradually evolved into the book-nerdiest bibliophile of the whole lot of us. Eight times out of ten (really, I measured it once) when it gets too quiet (you know what I mean right parents? Eerily quiet?  Up-to-no-good quiet?)  8 times in 10 I will peek around the corner and find Her sitting amidst a little mountain range of books.  All piled up in stacks around Her.  Leafing carefully through one, and then another. 
When I really need a solid 20 minutes of quiet time to take a phone call/bleach the bathtub/breathe deeply and regain sanity, the best bet is to sit Her down with a bin full of books and just leave Her alone.  She's in Missy-land.  She can't even hear you. 
I've learned that books are the very best tools to use for bribery or placation! For instance, the Dreaded Car Seat.  Oh, She hates the DCS.  But hand Her a book to read on the way?  All smiles. 
The library is like heaven for this kid people.  When we walk in, She does an actual happy dance. 
Story-time at our house comes twice a day, rain or shine, and it is incomparably Her favorite part of living.  If this kid could have story-time and watermelon 24-7, She would have reached nirvana. 
Her current favorites are "Mrs. Wow Never Wanted A Cow" and anything with pictures of "BABIES"!  And in case you think I am hyping up this book-love too much, I will just let you know that at night, Missy has never attached to a security object.  Little One liked (still does) to choose a stuffed animal to cuddle in bed at night.  Little Miss hates that.  She will actually throw the thing if you try to lovingly offer it at night.  Poor, unwanted Teddy.  But.  What did She ask for, time and time again, until I gave in?  What must She now have, in Her little arms, wrapped tight and hugged and kissed?  What pillows Her little cheek as She drifts off to dreamland?  Oh yes.  A book.  Or, in Missy-talk, a "booka".  Any "booka".  Better yet, three "bookas". 
On the down side, our kid-library is becoming a bit tattered from the constant use.  On the up side, I'm no longer worried that we won't share a love of reading.  And She goes to bed so easily now!
She has enough stories memorized now that I'm starting to think that learning-by-osmosis thing we all tried in college might actually work, too. 

The BirthDay

The night before Her long anticipated birthday, Little One had been busy with a long day of playing outside, art projects, and a picnic dinner in the yard which turned into running in the sprinklers which became mixing vats of mud with Her toes which evolved into an epic mud fight with Her mother and sister.  A neighbor or two might have become involved.  There was only one minor injury. 
After extensive washing up, She was worn out and put to bed early. 
But the next day was Her BIRTHDAY.  And after She was tucked in, I could hear Her little feet pittering and pattering about Her room until nearly 11pm.  Choosing the perfect outfit, laying out jewelry and hair ties and pretend make-up and setting Her dolls out in just such a way that She would be SO ready to turn four in the morning.  She was that excited. 
Despite the late night antics, She'd been told She could get up as early as She wanted on Her birthday, and hopped into my covers at 6am, eyes shining. 
"I'm four.  I'm FOUR! Did you know the sun is coming up, and it's going to be my birthday?!?!"
And it was.
Sometime in the night, after even She had fallen asleep, the sun had passed the exact place in it's orbit it had been four laps ago, at the moment She had entered the world. 
That day, we'd both done not much else but sleep.  This time around,  it was cuddles and cheers and singing Missy out of bed.  A parade down the stairs and what music shall we have today Little One? Oh, Broadway Musicals of course. 
Three apron strings tied, and three sets of hands poured and mixed and washed and chopped. 
There was waffles and turkey bacon, fruit and soy milk.  A recorded birthday song from Daddy, which She played again and again, kissing the computer screen. 
And then the best surprise, a phone call from Daddy, so She could tell him all about being FOUR.  I wish I was able to share the photos, guys.  They are priceless.  Her face!
We had to say goodbye, but then there were presents from Grampa and Nana.  Even Little Miss got a package.  The pretty paper flew and the ooohs and aahhhhs poured out.
They played with the novelties while I cleaned up, and then Little One picked out the outfits for the day.  Because She loves to match Her sister and wanted to be "the fanciest ever", She chose the special shiny dresses J and I had brought them from Bahrain. Accessorized with Her new dress up set (clip on earrings!) we set out for the day.  She'd been allowed to choose to do whatever She wanted. 
So we spent the whole day at the children's museum with Her best friend and longtime love, O. 
We took a break for lunch at a Chinese food buffet (Her choice) which was horrible but all the kids loved.  I really don't think it's possible for my girls to have fit that much food into their little bellies.  It boggles the mind.  It must have been birthday luck that the fortune cookie package She chose actually had two cookies in it somehow.  Her fortunes read:
"You will have a happy and peaceful life" and
"Your talents will receive the admiration they deserve"
Which I think about sums up the exact luck She'd like to have. 
The children's museum is awesome. We spent the entire day there, stopped by the grocery store, then headed home where the girls played "children's museum" (since five hours is not enough) while I made Her special dinner.  She was allowed to choose any dinner She wanted, in the whole wide world.  She could have said cheerios or hot dogs or hot dogs with cheerios on top, and I was braced and determined to just let Her have it.  She chose baked salmon, edamame, and salad with terriaki dressing.  She'd also been given the choice of any special birthday dessert in the whole world, and She chose "one candy from the candy dish".  So the candle went in the salmon. 
Throughout the day She had calls from family and serenades of Happy Birthdays and felt very loved. 
After dinner and bath, we read Missy Her favorite book (Mrs Wow Never Wanted A Cow), and tucked Her in.  Then Little One and I looked through Her baby book, reading all the details and touching Her first lock of hair, Her hospital bracelet.  We held Her feet up to Her footprints and saw how much they'd grown.  We looked at the photo album of Her first days home.
After the lights went out I told Her the story of a little baby who was born exactly four years ago; how She came into the world, who was there to greet Her, and how She'd grown to be this amazingly smart, loving girl who danced wonderful dances, ran fast, and sang beautiful songs to a family that had loved Her every minute, all the time, since before She was born until forever. 
From reading the baby book, Little One remembered Her favorite lullabies as a baby, and asked me to sing them.  I did.  She remembered that She'd loved to sleep snuggled into Her mommy's arms, and asked me to snuggle Her to sleep. 
"Now, Little One", I chided, "Even on your birthday, you have to go to sleep like a big girl when it's time for bed."
"But Mommy.  Even if I'm so big four years old, when I'm a baby I liked snuggles and even now I like to snuggle you.  Can't I get big for snuggles later on another birthday?  I'm getting bigger and bigger later on."
I looked down and all the times I'd held Her as an infant, sleeping in my arms, flashed before me like a jolt of lightning.  I looked into Her sweet little four-year-old face (four isn't really such a big number, you know) and I knew that She was right.  That the moments She will want me to hold Her will flash by just as fast.  She will be too big to snuggle to sleep on some other birthday, it's true. 
For now, I'm proud of how much She has grown and learned and become.  I'm proud to call Her my Big Girl and I'm happy to see Her propelling forward and upward with time, growing into Her own fantastic person.  I'll never want to keep Her back.  But, since She asked, and won't for many birthdays more.  This time I was happy to fit Her into my hug with my arms wrapped around, and hold Her a little while longer.  Just until She fell asleep. 

Hear Her Roar

Yesterday "Mommy O" watched Missy so I could go tour a farm and pick pumpkins with Little One at Her school field trip (thank goodness for Mommy O).  Other than Little One and I sharing a few moments of horror at the dairy presentation (especially the part at the end where all the kids are asked to taste the butter made before their eyes) we had a fantastic time. 
Little One searched high and low with extreme seriousness for the Perfect Pumpkin, and then searched near and far for an even perfect-er one for Her sister.  It was pretty entertaining for some other parents that the Perfect Pumpkins were also the biggest ones, and I got to haul them all around the farm afterwards. 
The weather was perfect, the countryside was beautiful, there were animals to pet and a hayride and friends.  When it was over we went to Mommy O's for Missy and stayed to return the favor, watching O and the baby twins while Mommy O went on a date with Papa. 
More fun, playing in the yard, running races and impersonating animals.  Coloring with sidewalk chalk, playing trains, dinosaurs, and building lego towers. We made collages out of magazine cut-outs and read stories together and ate popcorn after cleaning up.  It really was fun. 
When we left the girls were suddenly starving and it was rush hour anyways, so we stopped at a very funky but awesome burrito joint for them to inhale dinner, and then came home for them to gobble watermelon for dessert.  We had a long bath, lots of stories and snuggles, and tucks into bed. 
I'd call it an awesome fall day. 
Personally, the clincher was this gem, overheard from a room away-

Little One: "O! Stop spitting at me!  E'scuse me.  I am a girl- I. Am. A. Woman.  And you need to be respect of me."

O: "Ok!"

LO (moments later): "Thank you O, being a gennel-min.  See we can play nicely!"

O: "Let's be dinosaurs!"

LO: "ROAR!"
 
I have NO idea when Little One became a woman.  A woman.  But if She absolutely must insist on becoming one, that's just about the type I was hoping for. 

Too Legit To Quit

Coincidentally, on the day of presidential debating, my daughter was brushing Her hair after bath time, and asked if I wanted to hear something special She just learned in school.  Who could say no?!
And so right there in the bathroom, my 3 year old recited the Pledge of Allegiance.
Well.    The Pledge The Legit.  

"I Pledge the Legit,
to the flag.  Of the Knighted States of America. 
And to the republic, which it stands
One nation, Under God,
In the visible,
With livery, and God Smith for All.  
Wait! Justice, justice. I don't know a God Smith.  I just keep saying that! Livery and Justice for all." 
 
I really don't do politics on the blog, or on facebook, or at parties.  So I'm not going to dish about the debate, though I did watch it while cutting a melon into the shape of an aquatic creature.  Bet not everyone can say that.
What I will say is that there are some things about this country that have been, are, and will be messed up.  I'm not happy about some things.  Some of them even make me mad!!
However.
I am proud that my child is learning the Pledge of Allegiance.  I felt pride reciting it with Her, pride that I know it and pride in what I think it means.  For all of the imperfections I certainly acknowledge, for all of the things I disagree with in one political party or another, I am proud and extremely thankful to be an American, and to be raising my children in America.  I'm proud of J for sacrificing a lot to be part of preserving those things about this nation that I am so thankful for. 
I will be proud and thankful no matter who wins the debate or the election. 
What I think is that being American is like being part of any other family.  Half the people are crazy, there are things in the family history we're not proud of, and the whole thing drives us nuts sometimes.  But we keep them all in our prayers, if it came down to it we'd stand up and fight for them,  and even when they really tick us off, we know we'll always be a part of it. 
For all it's faults, America is pretty legit.  I have my preferences between those debating candidates.  But no matter who takes office in November,  I pledge the Legit. 

Watch Out, J

Little One: "Mommy.  Does you have some more money from Daddy?"

C: "Er...yes.  Yes, Daddy works hard to earn money for us so that we can have all the things we need, which we do."

LO: "Daddy has do work to get some money for us?"

C: "Yes, he has to earn it.  One day maybe you can learn about that by doing some chores, and earning money of your own to spend."

LO:  "Oooohhh, yes!  Yes, mommy, that really is a good idea, 'cause I need some money.  I have lots of 'spensive things I want to buy."

C: "What? You do?  Really.  Well.  What kinds of things are you planning to buy when you have money?"

LO (Shrugs Her shoulders.  Grins):  ""Spensive ones! Just, you know, whatever is 'spensive.  I'm going to buy aaaaaaaalllll the 'spensive stuff!"  

C: "Well! You certainly have high taste!"

LO: "What does that mean?"

C: "That you like things that are expensive."

LO: "Mommy.  You got that right." 

Photo Time Out

I'm a Mac gal.  I've been a mac gal since they had those fun colored ones which in my opinion were much more interesting than all this oooh-I'm-so-chic white and silver boringness.
Other than differing views on whether my laptop should be purple (purple!), Mac and I have generally gotten on quite well.  We have a lot in common.  We like things simple-ish.  We like things new and frivolous, but don't always admit it.  And it turns out we also have very similar parenting styles. 
There are some magic words in this house.  They are "this is the second time I've said this". 
If those words leave my mouth, it means that I already said something else.  And nothing happened.  Which means if I say it again, well.  I don't.  If I "count three", I never count to four.  
Why, just today I overheard Little One giving Missy some wisdom. 
LO: "Missy! Psssst! Missy quick! You better clean up that book quickety-split, cause mama already asked you one time, and if you don't do it faster, she will have to SAY IT TWICE! Just go do it! Then we can play airplanes." 
Of course it doesn't always work that well.  But when it doesn't, the ignorer of the ONE allotted warning is usually pretty sure it's better not to ignore.  Next time. 
Turns out, Mac doesn't like nagging and bargaining and threatening either. Mac also gives ONE warning.  And, as it turns out, if that warning is "You are running out of space in your iphoto memory" and you decide, pshht.  Mac will probably give me a bunch more warnings before it really means it.  Or maybe it will get sick of nagging me and just forget about the whole thing.  If you decide that, then Mac is all "Lady, I have told you twice.  Now.  Consequences!"
And the next thing you know, your photo library is "unreadable" and needs to be "rebuilt" and by the way, Mac certainly hopes that you have backed up recently. Or else. 
Luckily, I think I have.  And so all my hundreds (ok, thousands.  Thousands and thousands. Don't judge!) of photos, mostly of Littles of course, are in there...somewhere....but, like the un-cleaned-up book high, high on the shelf, those photos are unreachable at this time. 
I've been put into photo time-out.  For not listening.  Sigh.  Mac is so strict. 
Until I have the time to deal with the royal pain in the mac this is going to be to figure out, this will be a picture-less blog.  Sorry.   I know most of you come here for that and the words are kind of like a nice black-and-white photo matte to gloss over.  But for now that's all you get. 
And next time Mac gives me a warning, I'm going to make like my wiser, smarter daughter and give it a solid "Yes Ma'am!"  Mac does not mess around. 

Why Do They Have To Call It That?

Missy: "Uuuuuhhh.....this?"

C: "That's squash".

Miss: "...no? THIS?" 

C: "Yes, Missy.  It's for dinner! You like it!  SQUASH. "

Miss: "S'kaash?"

C: "Yes! *Try it*".  

Miss (looking very dubious): "Um. Um...ok.  OK!"

She scoops up two fistfulls of soft, orange vegetable matter.  Raises them above Her head.  Flexes Her muscles.  And yells. 

"S'KAAAAAAAASSSSHHH!"

While squeezing as hard as She can.  Orange goo oozing between pudgy fingers and glopping down into Her hair. 

She looked very proud. 

An the shocked moments of silence before ubiquitous laughter erupted,

LO: "Squash.  Squash.  Mommy, I think it's time to teach Missy 'bout homonyms." 

Preschool Lessons

When I picked Little One up, at first She came at me running, grinning. 
Then a lightbulb went on and She screeched to a halt. 
"Uh..uh n-no thanks! Hi mommyloveyoubut no thanks I want to stay here in this GREAT PLACE!"
So.  I wonder if She liked it?
With promises to return tomorrow, She thanked Her teacher "for the SO much fun" and literally skipped out the door.  She was a stream of auctioneer-speed storytelling as we made our way through the parking lot.
"oh-my-guh-ness-mommy-it-was-so-fun-and-there-were-two-balls-and-a-balance-beam- and I balanced!- and-a-swing-and-some-monkey-bars-and-lots-of-toys-and-so-much-works-to-work-on-and-a-sink-I-can-reach-with-soap-and-everything- just my size!-and-water-I-can-get-myself-and-girls-and-boys-and-one-boy-ran-with-me- A LOT!- and-I-learned-a-new-lesson-and-when-the-bell-rings-it-means STOP. and-listen-quietwee-and-guess-what-mommy-I-DID-and-I-sat-nicely-with-my-hands-in-my-lap-and-a'haved-myself-and-I-LIKE-my-teacher-and-I-ate-some-apples-and- OH! Missy! Whatever matter?!"

Arriving at the car She finally noticed Her little sister, who had been staring, wide-eyed, at this outpouring of vocabulary and emotion.  With Her tiny lip trembling. When Little One's attention finally turned on Miss, She held Her arms out as far as She could reach, and fat tears rolled down Her cheeks.  "SISSSYY!!!!!"   She wailed. 
Little One was aghast.  She looked at me.
"Oh, Little One.  We are so happy you had fun and did great at school today! But we missed you while you were gone.  Little Miss has been asking for you and missing you a lot this morning."
Little One put Her backpack down and gathered Missy into Her arms.
"Oh Little Miss.  My sweet wittle Missy-miss.  It's ok! My wittle precious angel.  Don't you know I will never leave you?  I never never ever will!  I'll NEVER leave you my precious, sweet Missy.  I'm your sister and I love you forever all the time.  So don't cry tears! Come on.  Let's go home and I will read some stories with you.  You can pick all the stories for ours nap today. Ok?"
Miss sniffed.  Nodded.  And smiled up at Her sister. 

We had a picnic at the park and explored the playground.  Ran errands, read the stories and had a nap.  They spent the rest of the afternoon playing together as if they'd been separated for months.
At bedtime, Little One picked up Her parking lot dialogue. 
She went on and on about Her new friends and all the cool stuff at school.  And She talked about how She'd seen some girls pointing at Her and whispering, and She knew they were talking about Her. 
"What do you think they were saying?" I asked. 
"Well.  I think prob-a-lee they was saying...  that they just love my fancy dress.  I did a lot of twirls today mommy, and I'm pretty sure everyone thought it was a great, great dress."
She told me how She'd made sure to sit by those girls for snack and talk to them.  She showed them how to count to thirty.  And they told Her it was great, and that Her dress looked like a princess. 

I hope She always expressed Herself without a care about what other people are doing.
I hope whenever She finds Herself pointed at and whispered about, She assumes the words are meant kindly. 
I hope She always has the confidence to approach new friends and find out that sometimes whispers are meant kindly. 
I hope She is always so brave, so open to new experiences, so appreciative of everything.
I hope She's always this excited about learning. 
I hope She always tells me about the parts of Her life I'm not in, especially as those parts grow like wisteria and overtake the parts I'm there for. 
I hope She always stops to comfort and love Her sister, no matter the situation. 
And I hope She stands by the promise to never ever leave Her.  Not really, not forever.
I'm pretty sure if Little One follows the precedent She has set for Herself, on Her first day of Preschool, at 3 years old... She'll do just fine. 
She may be the brand-new student. 
But from where I sit, She's a pretty good teacher, too. 

Dressed for Success

She woke up extremely early and wouldn't go back to sleep.  She sat at my heels while I got ready, She picked at Her food and whined and sulked.  She stared me in the eyes while deliberately doing what She'd been told not to, and was shocked to find that even on the First Day of School, the rules apply as usual.  She was excused from breakfast and cried Her way upstairs.  She came back a few minutes later, calm and tear-streaked, and climbed into my lap.  She sat rocking gently with Her head on my shoulder while Her sister finished eating.  Her tummy hurt. 
But then She remembered something.  The dress.  The dress!
She raced upstairs and came back on tiptoe, arms out like a belle at a ball, with a sparkle in Her eye.
"Want to watch me spin this dress?!"
She spun and the skirt fluffed out to a glorious 180 degree angle to the floor, swishing and rustling around Her knees when She stopped. 
"This dress.  Is WONderful." She knew with complete certainty how to finish the look.  She combed Her hair and crested it with a sparkly rainbow princess crown.  She glammed up Her feet with jeweled sandals.  She donned the "most decorated ever" backpack. 
"Ready to go!"
A commute is new for us.  The drive there was time to reflect and worry.  She begged me to come with Her, to stay in class by Her side, or at least nearby, or at least in the corner of the room.  Not for a minute, all day.  She practiced asking the teacher if Mommy could please stay.  She clutched the backpack tight.  Adjusted Her crown. 
When we arrived the school was a zoo.  With one entrance for toddlers through middle schoolers, the melee at the door was overwhelming.  She shrank into Her backpack.  She held my hand. 
She saw Her teacher.  The teacher exclaimed over the dress. Little One beamed. Teacher greeted Her as if they were old friends and the warmth of her laugh visibly melted Little One's fear. 
We found Her hook and hung up the backpack.  We turned over the medical supplies and forms.  I wondered what would happen next, as I knelt down to Her level. 
"Have a great day today sweetie.  We love you so much!"
She threw Herself at me, and Her sister in my arms, and hugged us both so tight.  Then with a laugh She turned and flounced into the classroom. 
And that was it. 
Missy for Her part thought the whole thing very exciting.  She ate the special breakfast with oohs and aahhs.  She requested and proudly selected Her own fancy dress-dress, Her own crow'n.  She clapped as we headed out the door.  She posed grinning for pictures and followed Little One to the car crying "Go-go! Go-go!" She was thrilled with the noise and commotion of the school. 
She kissed Her big sister goodbye and with me, watched the first 10 minuted of class from the one-way mirrored observation room.  She loved pointing, "Sissy! Sissy! Sissy there!" giggling at me like we were sharing an inside joke.  Then I told Her to wave bye-bye, and we walked away. 
She waved slowly, brow furrowed.  Wait.  What's going on here?
And when we hit the parking lot- just us two- She fell to pieces.  She wailed and screamed.
"NO! Nonononoooo! SISSY! SIIISSSYYY!!!!!!"  writhing and struggling to get back inside.  She cried and whimpered for Sissy halfway home, sulked silently the rest of the way.  At home She refused to read stories.  "Sissy.  Want sissy booka."  After bribing Her with milk and cuddles, She read halfway through a story then cried again.  She went to bed still upset. 
As for me, I'm happy to say that Little One looked pretty content in Her circle, watching the other children closely, listening to the teacher intently.  Occasionally preening and arranging the skirt of the Fancy Dress.  Taking comfort in it, I think.  A silk suit of armor. I'm happy to see Her surrounded by future friends in a classroom bright and neat as a pin. 
I'm not happy that Missy cried and felt such as sting over having Her best friend yanked from Her.  I'm not happy that She threw a fit over it, either.  But I didn't scold Her.  After all, to tell you the truth, I know just how She feels.  In time it will be easier for all of us, as we get used to this new routine.  Missy and I will enjoy our quiet time together.  Little One will enjoy Her own world of friends and learning. 
I think we'll always be happy at pick-up time, though. 

 

Heavy Backpack

Tomorrow is Little One's first day at a new school.
She was sad to learn, at registration, that She won't be allowed to bring Her special pink backpack from Grandma.  The one with Her name on it.
All the kids at Her school are required to carry the same standard-issue, boring black backpack with the school logo.  For the low, mandatory price of $30.  Ahem.  But! The headmistress explained to me, they are allowed to decorate them.  However they want. 
So we've gone around to various thrift and craft stores, we've raided our art cabinet.  Little One made all the choices.  And today during Missy's nap, we had a special project time. Just Little One, me, boring backpack, and a glue gun.  We made pins of everything deemed pretty by Little One, and then She very carefully, deliberately, showed me precisely where each pin was to go.  In the end, we have this backpack.

Which is anything but ordinary.  She also chose Her own first-day-of-school outfit.  She was allowed to pick whatever She wanted. Because She is Little One, She immediately chose the dress I bought Her, second-hand for practically nothing, but haven't let Her wear yet.  Because it is white silk dupioni and dry clean only.  But it is a frothy, shimmery confection of a dress. Cut to look like it is made of flower petals, with pink silk roses along the waist.  It has been coveted by Little One for months.
Together we filled the dazzling backpack with all the necessities; epipen, inhaler, medical forms.  Together we laid out the fluffy dress for the morning, giggling with excitement.
But today Little One has been off.  Distracted, quiet.  Scolded for not listening, following me like a puppy.  When we talked about school tomorrow She'd say how excited She is, then chew Her nails.
I realized.  She's nervous.
"I don't know any persons here", She fretted at dinner, picking at Her food. 
I realized my almost four year-old is just about to step into that unending world of Caring What Other People Think.  Of cool and uncool.  All that.  For the first time I thought about the crazy backpack, the outlandishly fancy dress, with a drop of trepidation.  What if....  what if She's old enough to fit in or not fit in? What if She's teased for being unusual?  At not-yet-four, at a Montessori school, I can't think it will really matter so much.  Right?  But I feel a little tug at my heart, a tiny hint of what will come in another five years.  Being a kid can be hard. 
I thought about it through the afternoon.  I thought about it while they played in the dirt, while I washed them and lotioned their mosquito bites.  I decided that the last thing I want to do is plant an insecurity.  So as far as I'm concerned the backpack and the dress and anything else She likes to express Herself with is awesome.  Because as far as I'm concerned, SHE is awesome.
But just in case.  I talked to Her after dinner.

C: "Little One, look at that lovely dress you chose for school! You will be so shimmery tomorrow! You will look lovely in that dress."

LO (blushing a little): "Oh, t'ank you mamma! I'm going to wear it all the day and I will do great spins in that dress!"

C: "You surely will.  But can I make sure you know something?"

LO: "Yes, Mamma. Tell me."

C: "You will look pretty in that dress, because you are always pretty.  The dress is fun, but it doesn't make you pretty.  What makes you so beautiful, my pretty girl?"

LO: "Aw....I don't know..."

C: "I do.  What makes you pretty is that you walk tall and proud.  That you act with kindness.  And you smile from your heart.  That is what makes a person beautiful."

LO: "I do like smiling."

C: "Yes. Your smile is great!  And you can wear it any time.  So if you want to wear that dress tomorrow because you feel comfy in it and you like it, that's great.  But you are beautiful with or without it, ok?"

LO: "Ok."

C: "One more thing.  That dress is fun, and very fancy.  But sometimes it is hard to play in very fancy clothes.  So, I packed you some nice, regular clothes in your new backpack.  At school tomorrow, if you find it's a little hard to play or be comfy in your dress, you can change any time.  But you don't have to.  Ok? It's up to you." 

LO (beaming): "Ok thank you mommy! That's a great idea you have there. I can just do anything, right?"

C: "Yes.  You can choose whatever you want. Tomorrow I want you to listen to your teacher, and to just have fun!"

LO: "I will!"

We read our stories and brushed teeth and I tucked Her in.  But when She gave me the usual goodnight hug, She locked Her arms and wouldn't release me.  After a few seconds, my reaction was to get impatient.  It was getting late, I had chores to finish, She had an early morning coming.  But before I shook Her off, I quieted my mind and listened.  She was breathing hard and really squeezing tight.  Like She needed that extra hug.  So I cozied in and asked Her if She was ok.

LO: "Yes mommy.  Yes.  But. Well just...I just want to hold on tight! I.Just.Love.You.More.Than.Anything!"

C: "Angel, I love you too."

LO: "But I just LOVE you Mommy and I don't WANT to EVER let you go! I won't! I won't let go! I don't want to let you ever ever go!"

C: "Oh, Little One.  I understand.  Sometimes, I feel like I don't want to let you go, either." 

Little One relaxed, but still circled my neck.
LO: "Yeah, mommy.  Me too."

I stayed with Her for about five minutes, in the silence. Finally, She squeezed extra tight, counted to ten, and then unlaced Her fingers.
I looked at Her and saw Her eyes squeezed shut, as if She had jumped and was bracing.
I kissed Her forehead, and held Her in a hug.
"Goodnight, my Little One.  I will see you in the morning".  
Little One smiled and pulled the blanket up to Her chin.  She told me goodnight and nestled in.

My how complex things become as they grow.  How much of it is them and how much is me, who knows.  But there are butterflies in all our stomachs.  Tomorrow I will take Her to a new place, filled with strangers, knowing how much I'll miss Her all morning, having gotten so used to Her constant presence.  Having loved it so much.  But because She is Her and I am, separately, Me, I will hug Her, in Her fancy dress and decked-out backpack, very tight.  Close my eyes as if I've jumped and am bracing.
And then let go. 

August

So for the sake of the family album, I should start back in Florida.  But I won't.  That was like forever ago, people. That's like deciding to ride the Tour D'France on a Saturday morning.  So if I get to the last five months, good for me.  In the meantime, I think I'll start with a few laps around the block.  Like maybe, August.  Let's just start with what happened in August.
In August, some awesome awesomeness happened, that's what!
 First, my Dad and baby sister came to visit.  Ok fine.  Baby sister is actually my pre-teen sister (expletives withheld).  Her pre-teen-ness boggles the mind.  But it's tempered by the fact that she's turned out to be an exceptionally fun and cool pre-teen and also is into babysitting.  Can I possibly describe the joy of going to one of the nicest lunch spots in town, and sipping a glass of wine on the verandah, chatting with dad, while contentedly watching Pre-teen sister wrangle both of my adorable-because-they-weren't-strapped-into-booster-seats children in the garden just outside? Ahh.  We had a great visit.  Partly because Sister played with my kids like, all the time, and when she stopped, Grandpa started swinging them around.  If he wasn't busy fixing stuff around my house. There were tears from all of us when they had to leave.

But we were cheered up soon after by the next lot of guests, the Recastle Princesses and their mom.  With four littles, swimming lessons, and some serious cooking missions, it was a bit boisterous. And extremely fun.  We spent a couple of entire days cooking Ethiopian food and baking desserts while the children ran wild.  We invited other friends over for dinners to amp up the fun-chaos even more.  The car broke, the sink broke, the dishwasher broke. And even though we were all worn out by the end of the visit, I tell you with all honestly that every second was a blast.  Those princesses, they steal my heart.  They are awesome and I wish they could make like the castle they helped build, and become a permanent fixture here.

Tears again when they left, but again we were instantly cheered by another visitor.  My mom came and jumped into the swirl of life here while I, momentarily, hopped out.  J and I have had our separations, you know.  But this, being our first deployment, is our longest time apart yet.  In nearly a decade guys!  So to celebrate what we hope will be roughly the halfway point in his absence, we decided I should go meet him when his boat docked in port. And you know me, right?  Can I ever do something the simple way? Especially if it involves traveling? Nope.  So I took a trip.  I visited cities in four countries, on three different continents, in less than two weeks.  I did it flying coach in the middle-goshdarn-seat every time, and still had all kinds of fun. 

I got to see J!!!

I arrived home tired and happy, to one Little One who flew into my arms with the picture she'd made me, all chatter about how much fun she'd had with Nana, how much she loved me, missed me, wanted to hug and hug and squeeze me, and one Little Miss.  Who would have NOTHING to do with me.  Who shrieked for Nana when I came near, who refused to let me bathe, change, hold, feed, or tuck Her in.  And who, at my attempts to cajole Her, literally turned up Her nose, "hurumphed" and looked away.  This from my Mama's girl?!  It was not until two days after my mom left that She began to forgive me.  And She still calls for Nana when I dare to cross Her by, say, not allowing Her to pull Her sister's hair or attempting to feed Her anything other than watermelon.

It didn't help that the day after I got back I abandoned Her again to spend the whole day doing allergy testing with Little One at the hospital.  A post of it's own.  And then the following day, I did spend the whole day with Missy...but also doing testing at the hospital (another post of it's own). A lovely day which included 12 needles in Her skin. What a great way to win Her over, huh?  Hopefully, in time, She will forgive me.

Maybe it will help that we will have a lot of one-on-one time in the mornings from now on.  Because tomorrow is another big day!  Little One will have Her first day of school.  A new school, with new friends and teachers in our new town.  I'm not at all sure which of us is more nervous.

But after the craziness of the last few months; the transitions of moving, deployment, visitors and travels, it will be nice to have the routine of school days as we settle in for the beginning of fall.  I hope it will help us find a nice calm rhythm for the days to click by to, counting down to the one in which J comes home, and we can find a new normal again, as a whole family. 

Missing Daddy

I want those days to pass quickly, I want my J back home with us.  But not too quickly.  These long summer days, just us three girls together all the time, have not been without their trials.  But they have been so precious too.  I'm reminded constantly of how fast they are growing, how soon Two and Four are sneaking up on me.  And how lucky I am to be here for all of it.  We've learned a lot about each other and ourselves, I think, going through this sort of upheaval together.  As much as I will be happy to share with J, and willing to share with school, I can't really wish to rush a single day in this time of life, where the days are filled with block-towers, fairy tales, dancing in the kitchen, and snuggles that smell like soy milk and apples.  
I'm looking forward to the months ahead.  It will all be an adventure.  It always is. 

To Blog or Not to Blog...

So.
I've had a hard time knowing what to do with this blog.  What is the point of it, really? 
I use it mostly to keep far-flung friends and family (say that five times fast!) updated on what's going on, though I'm really never sure how much of what I end up posting is of interest and how much of it is like those people who post pictures of their dinner every night on Facebook.  Sorry if you do that... but seriously who cares about your kraft mac n cheese, you know?  I'm often certain that I'm mac n cheesing this blog, as well.  So sometimes I just don't mention things, or I throw them out on facebook with everyone else's mental scraps.
I started this blog before I even knew about facebook.  Dark ages, right?  And now it can seem a bit redundant.  Except that I can be so much more long winded here!  So fun for me! Maybe not anyone else.  Hmm. What to do?
But then again, it's also turned out to be a nice therapeutic way to to talk to myself, address it to you, and escape asylum commitment  on a technicality.  And believe me, Peanuts.  Being in a city where I know exactly two other adults and spend all day with people under 3 years old means I need to talk whether anyone is actually listening or not.  Otherwise, I might forget how to.  I might go all feral and when J comes home I'll be like Nell, swaying like a Tay in the Win.
And, as I've mentioned, this is the best version of a family scrapbook I have managed to sort of keep up with.  But it's sort of public, though, so it's patchy.  I'm just not sure what to add.
If it's just for me, just to talk, I have all kinds of whining and celebrating to type out about deployment and how much it is not fun, and how proud I am that we are still mostly alive and sane nonetheless.  If it's a scrapbook, I have a lot of arduous uploading of photos to do and should probably backtrack to hit at least some of the major family events I've missed recently.  And if I'm trying to put something up that other people care to bother with....uh....I got nothin.  Which is what I've been posting.  So for the sake of the family scrapbook argument, I think I'll keep adding random ho-hum "here's what we've been up to" posts. For now.
But I'd like to take a Peanut poll! All three of you, please chime in.  What do you think?  In the days of Facebook and overexposure and creepy online stalkers and such, what really is the point of the family blog?  Is there one?  I am careful not to use real names or be too specific about where we are going to be, but is it better to make it private? Skip the pictures?  What do YOU think?  Throw your two cents in or I threaten to stop this blog altogether. Or post three times a day. Whichever would annoy you most. 

Oh, Peanuts.
Have I got news for you.  There has been a lot going on. 
I had guests up until I traveled to several different countries, and then spent lots of time in doctors offices with littles, and now it is time to gear up for school next week.  whew!
The good news is that everyone is doing fine and as full of attitude as ever. 
Little One is excited about school and Missy is talking in adorable little sentences. And I will have more stories here soon, for those who can stand to sit all the way through them. 

Sweet Sour

 Food allergies are no fun.  But we're pretty used to them by now.  Good thing, since some of Little One's really serious food allergies will probably be with us forever.  But one of the many mysterious things about food allergies is that some of them are sometimes outgrown. 
Like somewhere in there on a molecular level, there's been this teeny, tiny little immunological UN conference and a peace deal finally gets brokered between the Histamine Republic and the Empire of Soy, for example.  Isn't it nicer when we can all just get along?!  Yes.  It is.  But since those little proton-sized newspapers are too small for us to read, there's no way to know if such a deal has been reached except to throw the two sides together, take cover, and see what happens. 
Since Little One's person is the battleground, it's best to do it in the doctors office, and this is what we call the Food Challenge.  Sounds serious, huh?
In a food challenge we take a miniscule amount of something we expect, suspect, or just hail-mary hope a person has stopped being allergic to, and we have them eat it.  Then everyone sits and watches all intently for 20 minutes or so.  If everything seems ok, we give a slightly bigger bit to them, and again watch and wait.  Sometimes, like when Little One tried egg last year, there is a reaction and the whole thing is called off.  But if all goes well, they eat a little more and more until they have had a large enough "dose" without reacting that we can safely say they are no longer allergic. 
Little One hasn't passed a food challenge in a while, but last week we went ahead with Her new allergist and tried to see whether She had made peace with lemons yet.  And, as it turns out!!

Yep.  That's right!  She passed!
Little One is beyond excited.  She asked me to take pictures and a video to send J immediately.  She stopped people in the hospital hallways to cry out joyously, "Guess what? Guess what guys?! A-scuse me, guess what I CAN HAVE LEMONS!!!!! Is. That. So. Great?!" And sang about Her love of lemons all the way home in the car. 
To celebrate, we fixed special dinner of salmon with lemon dipping sauce and lemon-pepper roasted veggies. 

We haven't tried other citrus yet, but we will and excepting pineapple the allergist feels confident that She will be ok with that as well. 
Lemon is an ingredient which tends to sneak into the strangest places and is rarely labeled.  So if I could have chosen an allergy from Her list to cross off, this would have been it.  I'm almost as excited about it as She is! Yay for Little One! We have one less thing to worry about.
And from now on, when life gives Her lemons, She can just eat them!

Recastle

We had some friends visiting this week.  We did lots of fun stuff but on the last day there wasn't time to go anywhere, and the playroom had been played out.  

What to do with four bored princesses and a bunch of leftover moving boxes?

Who knew recycling could be so royally fun!

Let The Missy-Isms Begin!

Since hearing my reaction to Her rash awhile back, Missy's new favorite expression is,

"Jeeeeeeze!" 

Which is a good teenage warm-up, I think.  As in:


"Miss, you have a lot of blocks to pick up."
"Jeeeeze!"


"Sorry Miss, no more broccoli until you at least try your bread."
"Jeeeeeezze!"

"Miss, you need two shoes, love, not just one.  Please find your other shoe."
"Jeeeze.  Jee-eeeeezze!"



Or. Several times a day:

Little One: "Wow, Missy! We sure maked a BIG mess togever!"

Missy: "Awwww.... JEEEZE!"