Reflections on the last day of the year

It's a strange holiday to celebrate the eve of a New Year - remember the old friends we've forgotten so we can forget them again...or something like that.

I am trying to put on my brave face. I hate today. December 31st still only reminds me of what I've lost. I know as with all anniversaries of sad things, they eventually soften in their meaning because we can't spend our lives in negative space. But on this 5th anniversary, the pain is still raw.

I found out I was pregnant with our first child on April 28, 2001. We did what I think most married couples do when they receive that expected news - we went shopping. We held up tiny little clothes. We tried to imagine how this small person would change our lives. In my mind, I was already picturing a little boy running circles around my life, knocking stuff over. Just 2 days later, when the obstetric nurse grimaced and said she couldn't say whether this pregnancy was doomed, the little boy was already graduating cum laude from Yale. He was in love with a pretty brunette who was going on to law school, and they were packing up their things in our old Buick and moving to the Midwest.

It wasn't a dream that fleeting away in a moment. It was 6 weeks of "things look bleak" or "things might still be OK". It wasn't until after our 5th anniversary that the nightmare was finally over. Then through four months of waiting to find out if we'd be able to have children. Once that was over, there was still December 31st that came without the little boy I'd dreamed about, and there was the terror that accompanied the first few weeks of our 3 subsequent pregnancies.

I know from the other losses I've had in my life that eventually, I will stop picturing the little boy sitting earnestly in front of his birthday cake. Eventually New Year's Eve will go back to being a fun day to spend with friends rather than the psychological equivalent of grinning while holding on with white knuckles. But it's not today. Today I'm sad.

Found toys

One of the wonderful things about toys is that sometimes they can go on vacation a while and re-emerge as more spectacular than they were when received. This easel was a Christmas present about 2 years ago. It was a little too big back then, and there wasn't adequate room in our living room for both the art center and the play kitchen. As the play kitchen isn't really a cool toy right now, we retired it temporarily to storage. Lauren has spent all afternoon enjoying her "new" toy, complete with an art supply kit from GG with markers, stickers, and construction paper. There was also an assortment of paints and brushes, but we're just not working in that medium today.

The camera Santa brought has gotten a tremendous amount of use. It has an 8 MB SD card, and holds about 50 pictures. I've emptied it to the laptop at least 4 times already. Here's my favorite picture so far...

More Christmas Pictures

There's a good reason we've adopted the tune from The Addams family as our theme song. Dad and I are talking about blogging while Maria plays Peek-a-Boo with Lindsay with her hair. Julie is in the foreground. Lauren is pouting.

Julie and Lindsay

Ben and Maria

James and Claire

Me and Lauren

Santa dropped by after dinner to let Lauren know that he'd made a stop by Highland Park and her present was waiting in the tree. Lauren was so excited.

A quick Christmas picture

And then off to bed with me. From the Fisher Family Christmas...

From left to right: Dad, Lauren, Alec, Claire, James, Me, Lindsay, Jules, Maria, Ben

Merry Christmas

Merry Christmas from the Stolls, naughty...
...and drunk-y wunk-y...

Sweet kitty

Seamus has earned himself a reprieve. He has actually been much better since I started tending to his box twice a week, and this morning he was just so sweet. Around 6:30, I heard him purring like a little motorboat behind my head. He crept in so that his body was under the blankets and put his front paws around my arm and kissed my nose. Of course he just wanted breakfast, but it was very cute.

Laying on the teenaged angst

Lauren likes to exercise her 4-year-old stubborness from time to time. More often then not, it is at dinnertime and she refuses to eat whatever I've made. I don't acknowledge this with more than "We don't have dessert when we don't have dinner." And then I told her she was excused and could leave the table.

About 30 seconds later, she yelled from the living room "You never wanted me anyway" with such pathos that I had to hold my breath to keep from laughing out loud.

A little mixed up

"Mom?"

"Yep?"

"Will Santa bring me a camera for Hanukkah?"

"I don't know, Sweetie. He's making his list. But Santa comes for Christmas, not Hanukkah."

"We celebrate Christmas?"

"Yep. We celebrate Christmas because Mommy is Christian, and Hanukkah because Daddy is Jewish."

"Daddy is Jewish?"

"Yep."

"What does that mean? To be Jewish?"

"Uhhh....um...I think you have to ask him that, honey."

"Okay, Mommy."

Someone else will tell him

"I'm coloring over the letters on Grampie Fisher's present."

"How will he know it's for him?"

"He will see it's his favorite color."

"Grampie's favorite color isn't orange."

This earned a doubtful look. "Well, okay, it's not his favorite but he likes it."

"He's going to know it's for him because you colored it orange? How do you figure that?"

"His wife will tell him."

"Honey, Grampie Fisher doesn't have a wife."

A grimace. "Oh. Well, someone else will tell him then."

More tunes

Bowling for Soup has this hit on the radio called "High School Never Ends":

The whole damn world is just as obsessed
With whose the best dressed and whose having sex,
Whose got the money, who gets the honeys,
Whose kinda cute and whose just a mess
And you still don’t have the right look
And you don’t have the right friends
Nothing changes but the faces, the names, and the trends
High school never ends

Lauren perked up from the backseat. "That song is lying!"

"It is?"

"Yeah. High school does end."

"Oh, thank goodness." I replied. "That's a relief."

Sadtown

Coined Sadtown because everyone who lives in the gingerbread town is sad because Lauren and Lindsay have very bad colds. But we are all very excited to see GG and Auntie Jules.

My omniscient 4-year-old

"I know everything." Lauren stated proudly.

"Really?" I said. "Everything?"

"Well, ok. Not everything. I don't know what 69 plus 12 is."

"Hmm. It's 81."

"Eighty-one," she repeated slowly. "And now I do know everything..."

Merry Christmas from The Stolls

We tried to take our annual Christmas picture yesterday to mixed results. Because of the camera's weird timer setting behavior, we all look a little disconnected. Also, without a person standing at the camera, there's no way Lindsay can be cued to look in the right direction. Oh, and none of us is particularly photogenic.

December 2006

Needless to say, it isn't going to be our Christmas card this year. And yes. My Christmas cards are actually going out in time for Christmas this year which hasn't happened in 3 years.

Our 2004 cards went out as New Years cards.

December 2004

Chez Stoll, we celebrate both Christmas and Hanukkah, which we've done since before we had kids. Both my parents were raised Catholic, but chose not to raise us that way. Dad is half Jewish and a practicing Agnostic. Mom returned to Catholicism after she got married to Paul. Alec was raised with considerably more Judaism than I was raised with Christianity, though his Grandma Georgette had a Christmas tree (though it should be pointed out that bringing a dead tree into your house has absolutely nothing to do with Christ).

So last year, I decided we should have a Hanukkah card because we'd only had Christmas cards in the past, and we celebrate both holidays. The Hanukkah card was sent out in mid-February. Although I used the picture taken in late December, the card reflected that it was written the week before Valentine's Day.

January 2006

Make plans and God laughs

Lauren, December 2003

I thought I was going to write a cute little post about baby Lauren today. I had selected this adorable picture. Oh, the plaid dress! Ohh! The itty bitty maryjanes!

Sometimes you make plans, God chuckles, and you have one of those sneaky little epiphanies. I don't have any other pictures from this Christmas. We were pretty sure this was going to be Dad's last Christmas Eve, spent in the guest bedroom at Gramma Jean's. We mixed drinks, smoked cigarettes, and joked and laughed like we always do, of course, but it was overshadowed by the idea that this was our last Christmas. Three years later with Dad doing fine I didn't expect that to hit me like a ton of bricks.

I have plenty of friends who've gone through their lives with dad-sized holes in them because their fathers either weren't around or simply weren't present. There's not a lot between us that's left unsaid, I would just really miss him.

I love you, Dad.

My all-time favorite Christmas picture

Lauren, December 2002

When Lauren was 3 months old, we tried to take a picture for a Christmas card. We took several pictures of a smiley baby with and without antlers. I ultimately decided there was something kind of cruel about the antlers.

And it was very hard to get her to balance on the chair because she was too little to actually sit up. Baby is falling out of the chair, antlers have popped off her head, and Alec's hand is in the frame.

This picture sums up the experience:Note the glowering expression. The caption for this picture? Someday I will choose your nursing home.

Signs of Christmas

Soapy Santa

We bought this plastic snowglobe at a garage sale when we first moved to Jersey about 2 years ago. Lauren, who was 2 at the time, named it "Soapy Santa" because when you shake it up to make it snow, the glycerin looks a little like dish soap. He even had his own theme song, sung to the tune of Oh Susannah:

Soapy Santa
Oh don't you cry for me
For I come from a banjo
With a banjo on my knee

It's just not Christmas Chez Stoll without him.

Lauren, Christmas 2004

Naughty or nice?

Of course, I am allowed to sit on the dining room table. My parents are totally cool with that. Oh, yeah. It's my milk. Lauren's cup? Nyah. She didn't want it. She said I could have it.

A minute later, Lin grabbed the mouse behind her and hurled it at the floor.

Lauren tried to help Daddy with the closet construction. She fell and hit her head on her own slipper. No, I can't explain that. She has boo-boo bunny in one hand and a screwdriver in the other.

The tree

This year, we broke with tradition and put up our tree the day after Thanksgiving. Obviously, we have an artificial tree. It was purchased in Green Bay because we lived in a 2nd floor apartment and it was a fire hazard to have a real tree.

Alec got new LED lights this year. They make him happy.

Lauren and I made gingerbread cookies and hung them, along with some small glass ornaments and candy canes. We plan to string some popcorn also, and we have a few cookies to replace because, well, those are yummy.

Idiotic

I belong to a couple of local Yahoo! lists because I thought it would be a convenient way of keeping up with the borough events. Occasionally, people ask questions about professional services. Last week, someone posted looking for an electrician. I thought, how fortuitous! Alec has been working on a project for the last several weeks and will shortly need to employ the services of an electrician.

Alec, building a walk-in closet in our bedroom

The master bedroom in our house is actually 2 rooms. Although the previous owners removed a wall, they didn't do much else. The room was too large and it had 2 smallish closets in 2 of the corners of the room. We decided shortly after moving in that it would make sense to take them down, since they were not built attractively, and build a single walk-in closet. Alec finished putting up the structure of the walls this weekend and placing the outlets. He still needs to run some wiring, but before the drywall can go up, he will need to hire an electrician to patch the new wiring into the circuit, and remove the now oddly placed light fixture from the former first bedroom.

Neither of us know why there was wood paneling on that wall. The unpainted part of it is where my closet used to be. No, we don't know either why the closet was 6-feet tall. It's just an example of the "creative" contruction done by the former owners.

So, someone had posted to the list a week or so ago looking for an electrician and 2 recommendations were made. For some reason, people replied with just names, no contact information. And one of the names is spelled incorrectly. I thought, they must be listed in the yellow pages. Of course not. How entirely useless is that?

The cat is out of the bag and the turkey is in the pot

Scene: Chez Stoll, in the kitchen. Lindsay is napping upstairs. Alec is making turkey soup. Lauren reads her name off of papers on the refrigerator. Heather is sitting on the foot stool near the dishwasher.

Alec (as cooking show host): I'll bet you're wondering how we're going to get the whole bird carcass into the pot?

Heather: Break it! Break the bird!

Alec: Oooh. Ouch. Tough crowd.

Alec realizes the only way to fit the carcass into the pot, and snaps the spine.

Heather: Oooh. Ouch.

Lauren: Mom, don't worry. The bird is dead. He didn't feel anything.

Lauren puts her hands on Heather's shoulders, as if to brace her.

Heather: Right. It's dead.

Lauren: Don't you know? It's been dead this whole time.

Usage

wait‧er  /ˈweɪtər/ Pronunciation Key - Show Spelled Pronunciation[wey-ter]
–noun

1.	a person, esp. a man, who waits on tables, as in a restaurant.

2.	a tray for carrying dishes, a tea service, etc.; salver.

3.	a person who waits or awaits.

4.	Obsolete. an attendant.

–verb (used without object)

5.	to work or serve as a waiter: to waiter in a restaurant.

During breakfast preparation this morning...

Lauren: Let's play restaurant.
Mom: Ok.
Lauren: You're making food so you get to be the cook.
Mom: All right. I'm the cook.
Lauren: And I'm waiting so I get to be the waiter.
Mom: Hmm. Ok.

Four in the bed and the little one said

"I'm trying to sleep, Mom."

"You should sleep in your own bed. Remember we set your Dora alarm clock? You need to be in your room to hear it."

"Mom, she shouts."

Stink eye doctor

We went to see Lindsay's eye doctor today. Don't get me wrong, he seems very smart and interested in my girls - he even gave Lauren an eye test today "just because". He has a very nice office with newish toys and a pleasant staff, but I hate being there. Hate it. I would rather be anywhere else including the pediatric dentist with sad eyed kids in the waiting room.

Lauren sat with her coloring book, and Lindsay played on my lap. A little Asian girl, probably around 6, was playing behind us. She smiled a huge smile at Lindsay. Her facial features were askew and assymetrical. She spoke few words.

Her mom sat across from me. She eyed Lindsay and asked how old, and tearfully explained she'd spent a very long time trying to have children before they adopted the little girl. "Thirty thousand dollars for damaged goods," she said flatly.

I tried to manage a smile to acknowledge that she was joking.

"She doesn't have any vision problems? Just that little birth mark?"

I feel like an asshole. "Right. The hemangioma." I don't want to explain how it broke my heart when the 3-year-olds at daycare pointed and said "Baby has a bloody eye" because really, we all just want our children to be...well, normal isn't the right word...we want them to be extraordinary.

I just can't imagine. And every parent I see there has a similar story. So when the doc said, "See you in 3 months, Mrs Stoll!" I felt that familiar dread creep in.

Lindsay

...weighs in the day before she officially becomes half a year old at 13 pounds 10 ounces and 24 1/2 inches tall.

Lindsay discovered her ears last week, which aren't quite as fun as the toes she found 2 weeks ago, but they are sure a lot of fun to squish when you have a handful of pureed carrots. When I feed Lin, I punctuate her bites with "Mmm." For some reason, she punctuates them with "Grrr." Maybe I'm just sleep deprived, but it gets me every time.

More animals in the basement

"I can't wait to see the turkey in the basement."

"Uh...Lauren, you know that the turkey is dead, right?"

"It is?"

"Yeah. It's a turkey dinner, not a pet turkey."

"Oh." And then very matter-of-factly, "I still want to see it."

Please don't sing

I had made split pea soup in the crock pot for dinner last night, which meant that during the time I typically prepare dinner, we had time to just hang out. I took Lindsay upstairs with me on the bed, and sang to her while I played my guitar. She looked on with amusement.

Into the chorus of the song I was singing, Lauren came in and sat on the bed. She folded her chest over her legs and collapse, rear end up, in a sobbing mass of little girl. I stopped playing and set down my guitar.

"What's the matter?" I asked, stroking her back.

"I don't want to tell you," she sobbed.

"Are you worried I will be mad?" I asked, "Because I won't be mad."

"No."

"If we talk about what's making you sad, you will probably feel better."

She heaved a heavy sigh, and looked up at me, her face damp. "This will be the day that I...die?" And with that began another eruption of tears.

"Oh honey, it's a song...it's not even a song about me...it's a song about Buddy Holly..."

"I don't like it." she said, jutting out her chin. "Don't sing it any more."

Lauren's view

A few faves, as evidenced by the 150+ pictures on Mom's digital camera:

Dora slippers

Turtle

The bookshelf

Seamus

Now taking requests

Why, yes. I just brought the laundry up from the basement. The basket behind the couch is empty. It's for dirty laundry. My wood floors look lovely in that picture, but really they need a lot of work. My walls and curtains look dingy. This room hasn't been painted yet. My favorite thing - other than my kids, of course - is the coffee table. Alec made it for me our first Christmas together. It's a copy of a table I loved at Crate & Barrel, but it was too expensive. It's oak. The leather sofa is handed down. It was in the house my stepfather owned before he and my mom got married. She hates it. I think it's gorgeous.

Maybe it's time to move?!

I thought about deleting my earlier post about the weirdos who live in my borough. It makes me sound like I'm paranoid, I thought.

I took Lauren to school today a little early after a stop off at the bank. Lauren was walking beside me holding my hand and Lindsay was in the snugli. A woman in her late 60s suddenly swerved her Buick and pulled over. She frantically rolled down her window.

I moved Lauren to my left side, away from the car, and held her hand tightly. My right hand grasped my cellphone in my pocket, and my body stiffened. I fully expected to hear this was some sort of a medical emergency.

"Oh my God!" she exclaimed with a huge grin. "Your daughters are absolutely gorgeous!"

"Thanks." I replied casually.

"What's your name, honey?"

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," Lauren replied.

In the backseat of the Buick, she had a toddler carseat. I've got to assume that this woman is probably a Grandma...but maybe an Auntie. Even so, on what friggin planet do you stop your car to ask a 4-year-old what her name is? Creepy.

Rockstar

If any of you parents haven't wandered over to Ask Moxie from my blogroll, it's definitely worth a look. This post from a few days ago struck me particularly since this scenerio is practically a daily event for me. I go to a store with one or both girls, and someone will inevitably get in their faces, try to touch them, or make some assinine comment about wanting to take them home. It's always a senior who does this, though occasionally cashiers or store employees will also. And as Moxie aptly put it, it makes you wonder what the Hell is wrong with people.

Yesterday, we walked into town so I could stop at the bank. I didn't realize that my branch closes at 3 PM during the week. Now, it's only about a 5 minute walk, so it's not like I was out of my way, but it was annoying. Lauren grumbled because she was expecting to get a lollipop from the bank. So, we crossed the street to go to Rite Aid to buy a lollipop and to see if they had any interesting art projects to do.

Immediately upon entering the store, an old man starting bellowing "Hi! Hi! Hi!" and inching toward us with his walker. I took Lauren's hand and escaped down an aisle. We had to pass him 3 more times trying to find ourselves a shopping basket, and then to check out with the cashier. Each time, he resumed his hollering.

We grabbed a basket from the back of the store. Lauren began singing "A basket, a basket." An older woman was checking out in the back, and commented to the cashier (loudly) that my kids were cute and she wished she could take them home. About 2 minutes later, she approached us in the aisle.

"I heard you singing!" she said loudly, in Lauren's face. "It's not a green and yellow basket, though. What color is the basket?"

Lauren looked alarmed. "It's blue."

"We're in a hurry." I said to no one in particularly as we walked away from her and into the next aisle, searching for art supplies.

A woman standing behind us in the check out line tried to lure Lauren away from me while I was paying for our art supplies.

"I'm sorry, Lauren. I don't know why that woman is calling you. We don't know her, and I need you to stay next to me." I said as I was trying to get my credit card out of my wallet far enough away from Lindsay in the snugli so that she didn't try to eat it.

"I just wanted to show her the candy," the woman said with the sadness of a deflated 6-year-old.

"We've already talked about the candy," I replied, tersely.

It's times like these I feel I know how it must be to be a rockstar with people you don't know approaching you when really, you just want a second's peace to decide which box of markers, Tootsie Pops or Blow Pops, and whether it's too early for a Christmas coloring book.

Slippery slope

It happened. I got sucked into the Christmas preseason marketing and made my first purchase. Here's a view of the downstairs powder room:
For some reason, the walls look gray in this shot, but really they are a very pretty blue green. Note the newly purchased Christmas hand towel. In the reflection of the mirror, you can see the dressform Alec chose. The pair of shoes was a party favor from my sister-in-law's bridal shower. The plastic pumpkin used to be on the banister, but somehow found its way onto the shelf.

Schooled

It's really amazing to me how much things have changed since Lauren started school 2 months ago:

• She can write her name. This wasn't something she would've attempted 8 weeks ago. She's started asking me to spell words aloud so she can write them down. Note that unless you know what she's writing, it isn't discernable. Her writing is almost legible if she is imitating - ie, if you write a word for her and she copies it.
  
• When she colors with crayons in a coloring book, her coloring is just outside of the lines now rather than all over the page. She colors in objects deliberately now, so the result is dark and completely filled in.
• She draws people as well as objects. The people in her pictures have faces with expressions and limbs (no bodies yet).
• During storytime, she now reads a story by herself. She asks about the title, author, and illustrator and states them before she starts telling a story based on the pictures in the book.
• She loves having a job at school, and often asks to help with chores around the house such as laundry, emptying the dishwasher, and making dinner.
• Her use of color, particularly when painting, is amazing.
  

I knew that she would really thrive in a learning environment. It just strikes me how much she has learned in what seems like a very short period of time, and how it has effected almost everything she does. What a talented little person!

Lindsay's new favorite pastime

Lindsay at 5 1/2 months, November 2006

Shhh...

Life is just peachy

Lindsay's hair smells like peaches after she gets out of the bath. I love picking her up from her crib in the morning when she's all warm, pink, and smelling like peaches.

Lauren is wearing all pink from head-to-toe. It's not as cool as a "Jammies All Day" day, but almost.

If my kids left notes

Dear Mom,

You're so boring, I am lining up my hopscotch numbers and playing house with them. I've wished them all good morning and good night, and gave them allowance out of my piggy bank. Next, I'm going to play doctor with my socks.

Love, Lauren

and not to be outdone...

Dear Mom,

Please let me climb out of more stuff. Doing a faceplant on the dining room table while you tried to hang up the phone was a blast.

Love, Lindsay

Portrait of an escape artist

A month ago, I told you how excited I was about the Bumbo seat. I had heard about the Bumbo seat from Cecily at Wasted Birth Control, whose daughter Tori is about 3 weeks younger than Lindsay. It's been a great, non-skid platform for Lindsay's first meals. Every day, we set the Bumbo on the table, and Lin has some cereal, vegetables, and fruit.

As we get ready for meal time, I do a lot of running back and forth from the kitchen to gather stuff for the table: plates with food, silverware, drinks, etc. I was in the process of this dash when Lin fell out of the Bumbo and on to the floor. She was fine, thankfully. I was annoyed with myself because with Lauren, I never underestimated when I needed to modify my behavior to keep her from rolling/crawling off of stuff...and Lindsay has fooled me at least twice.

Alec captured some pictures of Lindsay's Houdini act. She twisted until her left foot cleared the Bumbo's divider, slid the foot under her, pushing off with her foot while twisting until she is tummy up on top of the seat. From there, it's just a short roll to freedom.

You know what this means

Here's Lindsay, up on her knees and elbows rocking back and forth. All you parents out there know what comes next. She's 5 1/2 months old. I am in really big trouble!

Old

"There are a lot of spooky sounds that come from our house." Lauren reported at breakfast.

"Hmm. You mean like floorboards creaking when we walk on them?"

"Yup. And that big banging sound..." she shuddered dramatically.

"Oh. Yes. That's the steam coming up through the pipes and hitting the cold radiators." I replied. "They make a whistling sound too, as the steam comes out."

"It's all so spooky," she said sadly.

"Well, it is living in an old house. If you know what makes the sounds, perhaps it isn't quite so scary?"

"How old is the house?"

"Older than me."

"Oh." She thought a minute. "Older than Grampie Fisher*?"

"Yep. Even older than Great-Grampie Fisher."

"Wow." she said. "Now that is old."


*Grampie isn't identified as the benchmark of old, it's just that his birthday was yesterday. The Lauren definition of birthday is a year older than you were the day before. He's not Lauren's oldest grandparent. Poppy is, at 61. Great-Grampie also isn't the oldest great-grandparent, but we try to have linear family conversations - Lauren is my daughter, and Grampie is my dad, and Great-Grampie is his dad. The house is the same age as Lauren's Great-Grandpa Leo, who turned 90 in March.

Lindsay at play

Lindsay at 5 1/2 months, November 2006

Lest there be the impression of playing favorites, Lindsay's progressing nicely also. Here she is playing on her mat with some toys. She's learned how to rotate herself, using her legs, to move from toy to toy. A few favorites are: Learning Puppy, the jingle ball (also a Lauren favorite, named for my high school's winter formal dance), Mr Chewy (offscreen bottom, a teething ring that looks like a caterpiller), and Alien (also a Lauren favorite).

Progress report

I met with Lauren's teacher at a very early hour this morning.

"Wow. It's funny to see you without any kids," she said.

I understand what she means. I am so used to being out wearing a snugli-full of Lindsay, that I feel unbalanced when I'm not wearing those extra 13 pounds.

None of what her teacher had to say was surprising. Lauren is extremely bright, and is doing well on all the work they're doing. Her teacher showed me the progress of her writing which is truly amazing from week 1 with essentially chicken scratches to week 7 or wherever we are now to recognizable upper and lowercase letters. Her coloring and drawing skills have improved as well. She can now color mostly within the lines and fills the space fully when using crayons. She understands new words of sequence (eg, first, second, third, etc.) and can count to 30. She tries to count to 40 by adding numbers like "thirty-twelve".

We spoke about reading, because I wasn't sure how to encourage her. We have reading time every night before bed when we read between 2-4 stories depending on how quickly the rest of the bedtime routine (bath, teeth brushing, getting "jammied up") happens. Lauren wants to "read" one of the stories and I wasn't sure if we should just let her make up a story or help her to memorize it so she knows what the words say. Her teacher said that they are learning that Pre-K reading is about telling a story from a book, so to allow her to be creative.

She mentioned that Lauren has difficulty not talking, particularly to her new school friend Natalie. She said that they've tried to allow them to talk quietly or a little, but Lauren doesn't do either well, so this week she's been told that she cannot talk while they're working. The teacher was apologetic about it, and said she was trying not to have to separate them, but their behavior is distracting. I replied that she hadn't mentioned it, and Lauren is often told at home that she has to stop talking because she's being distracting. She's adorable and creative with an impressive vocabularly, but the kid will talk to her own socks. She talks in her sleep. I replied that it was something we were also working on at home.

Home economics

"I have an idea about what to do with the money in my piggy bank," Lauren announced this morning from Daddy's side of the bed.

"Oh." I replied nonchalantly. "What is it?"

"Well..." she said thoughtfully, grinning at her sister. "I think we should take some monies out of it so that we can go to McDonalds more."

"Ah." Last week, we had a conversation about how we could only go to McDonalds for one lunch per week because it is more expensive to eat there than at home. There was something adorable and yet heartbreaking that she was willing to dip into piggy so that she could enjoy some Chicken McNuggets and an apple pie. "We had McDonalds this week already, Lauren. We went there on our way to see Ross and Lars for Halloween."

"Right," she said, "but I didn't get an apple pie."

"That's because we had a choice between an apple pie or Halloween candy. Remember? We can choose 1 sweet dessert per day..." The rules had been bent for Halloween, of course.

"Oh. Well next time we go to McDonalds..."

"Next week. And Mommy will pay, ok? We don't need to take money out of piggy."

"Right. Well, we could take out 8 coins so that we can have ice cream. You know, because ice cream costs 8 coins."

I have no idea if this is correct, or even which 8 coins we're talking about. It would seem even the kiddie-sized cup at Carvel costs more than $2. So I say, "We'll see."

It's really difficult to balance making healthy food choices without labeling some food as "bad".
I guess that appealing to her sense of economy has backfired on me, though. I have to come up with another approach.

Piling up

It's amazing how chores pile up in just a couple of days. The laundry is currently apriori - and has taken over what seems like the entire house. The ironing pile has consumed a closet. I noticed that the girls' laundry basket has filled in the time that the other laundry baskets were abandoned in the basement. Mostly, it has been studying that's taking up my time in the afternoon and evenings.

Lauren declared yesterday "the best Halloween ever" and demanded to know when we get to do it again. I told her a year from yesterday, which is when she is 5 and Lindsay is 1 1/2. She asked if Lindsay will be able to Trick-or-Treat next year, and I said I thought so. Lauren was 2 before she went, but then, she didn't have the excitement of having a big sister.

It's amazing how quickly babyhood yields to toddlerhood...I was also thinking the other day, when Alec's stepbrother and his fiancee asked Lauren to be in their wedding, that by the time they get married in late July, Lindsay will be running around.

Happy Halloween

Magenta and Blue

How much fun is it when you discover a good friend is wearing a costume that compliments yours? Lauren dressed as Blue, and her friend Christina dressed as Magenta - both of Blue's Clues fame, pictured above before school this afternoon.

Mommy with Tiger Cub

Lindsay dressed up as a tiger for Lauren's Halloween party at school. It was a good time - we made frames out of popsicle sticks, decorated cookies, and played games such as pin the nose on the jack-o-lantern, boney bowling, and Halloween Twister.

Cinderella and Blue play pin the nose on the jack-o-lantern

Two Princesses in a bowling competition

Blue and someone's little brother playing Twister

The girls

Wearing their sister t-shirts: one big and one little

Pumpkins

Alec saw that It's the Great Pumpkin, Charlie Brown was on tonight, so all four of us climbed into our bed (since it was technically the girls' bedtime) to watch it. It was funnier than I remember, probably because at this point, it's very dated. Lauren thought it was OK. Lindsay was more interested in staring at Daddy and having her bedtime snack.

I haven't done the side-by-side comparison view in some time. I realize they are looking a little less alike these days.

Lauren at 5 months, March 2003

Lindsay at 5 months, October 2006