Happy birthday, Alec!

Almost 30 seconds with an almost 13 month old

Another day, another word

Lindsay sat on the floor at the ophthalmologist's office, taking items out of her diaper bag one at a time.

"Those are wipes." I said.

She set them down, and reached for a block.

"That's a block."

She put the block down and picked up a green bottle of bubbles. "Bubble." she said.

We both laughed. "Yes," I said. "Those are bubbles." I opened them and blew them above her head, and she giggled as they drifted down and popped on her arms.

To add to the whys

Lindsay: Whassat?!

Epiphany: That's Seamus.

Lindsay: Whassat?!

Epiphany: A table.

Lindsay: Whassat?!

Kindergarten, here she comes!

Things they don't teach in school

I came downstairs this morning to find Lauren sitting patiently, hands folded, at the dining room table. As I went into the kitchen, I nearly tripped over a loudly meowing Seamus.

"Do you suppose he wants breakfast, too?" I asked Lauren.

"Well, you see. The thing is," Lauren began, sighing impatiently, "I just don't speak cat."

"Oh," I replied. "Ok."

"Once someone teaches me cat, I will let you know what Seamus wants."

Here's hoping her comedic delivery improves

"Why did the crabby cross the road?"

"Why did the crabby cross the road?" I repeated.

"To see Silly Billy. Get it?" She ends every joke with Get it?? as though that's her flashing neon Applause sign.

"No. It's not funny."

"Not funny? Oh, ok. Thanks!" she replied brightly.

Mommy Driveby

I joined the municipal pool in a neighboring town for the summer. I had not planned well for the first day out there and spent more of the day out in the hot sun than was reasonable. Fortunately, the pool has a concession stand. Lauren chose a hot dog and I ordered a tuna melt and a bottle of water to share. Both sandwiches came with a bag of chips and a pickle.

We sat at a picnic table with our friends, and I fed Lindsay bite-sized pieces of the tuna melt. She is a big fan of grilled cheese, so she ate most of my sandwich, a few chips, and about half of the pickle spear.

She was sitting next to a baby, also eating his lunch in his stroller. He was quite a bit bigger than Lindsay, and struggling to eat baby food off of a spoon offered by his dad. I would guess he was probably about 8 or 9 months old. Lindsay grinned when they made eye contact and waved her food-filled fist at him.

The mom gasped. "Oh my God...are you feeding your baby a cheeseburger?"

"No. It's a tuna melt." I replied. "She likes cheeseburgers too though."

She blinked at me. "How old is your baby?" She demanded.

"Lindsay is just over a year." I replied.

She sighed in relief. "Oh. I thought they were the same age..."

They left very soon after that.

For Kim

"At my birthday, will you bring in treats for the class?" Lauren asked.

"Yep," I said. "One of the things we're talking about at the meetings we go to while you're at school is what sort of things can be brought in for birthday parties..."

"Oh," she said. "Like cupcakes?"

I stifled a snicker. "What we've been talking about is that in September, there won't be parties with cake or candy - and what are other things we might have to celebrate happy events."

"Oh," she looked wary. "No cupcakes?"

"Not at school. But that's OK. We can have cupcakes at your party at home. It just means we have to be a bit creative about how we celebrate at school."

"Oh ok," she said. "Like how?"

"Well, since your birthday is in September, we could go to the orchard and pick apples for your birthday, and bring them in for your class."

"Really? We could pick them ourselves?"

"Why not?"

"Huh," she replied.

This morning...

"Mom, I can't wait to go pick apples for my class birthday party. That's going to be so much fun."

It would seem the symbol doesn't have to be a cupcake...

Happy birthday, Lindsay

A year ago today, you were born kicking and screaming.

It's equally hard for me to believe that 365 days have passed, as it is that you haven't just always been here. My very serious observer, perched on my hip, seems to take it all in. Now, occasionally, you offer a throaty laugh, or an emphatic babble.

You're still an enigma wrapped in a riddle for me. You have an instant attachment to all things knit, prefer to be placed in your crib with no ceremony at nap and bed times, and can't stand to be changed. From our early first days at home, you loved to sleep, and still do. Our morning nap has been eliminated for longer overnight sleep times - sometimes you sleep from 8 PM to 10 AM.

Lately, you've been learning by leaps and bounds. You've said "Hi there" and "bye!", "Mama", "Dada", and "down". You know all the hand gestures for Itsy Bitsy Spider, and when to clap for When You're Happy and You Know It. You've stood up a few times, but haven't attempted a step yet. I imagine, as with everything else, this will happen entirely on your schedule. And you'll give me that look you always do that says, "I could always do this. I just decided to now."

I love you, Lindsay. Happy birthday!

God and His sense of humor

I spoke to either my mother or my grandmother (my mother's mother) on Monday. I may have actually spoken to both of them. Our conversations were similar about having an outdoor party:

Me: Well, I just hope it doesn't rain...
Her: Just don't even think about it.

I'm not good at the whole blind faith thing. Maybe that's just not having been raised Catholic as my mother was, and her mother before her. Or maybe it's my personality. I always have to have an emergency backup plan. Then, I feel much better.

By Wednesday, the forecast for Saturday was rain all day. Rain ALL day. Thirty-some odd people coming over...

How was I going to solve this? I couldn't fit 30 people in my house.

On Thursday, I suddenly had this brainstorm that we could clear all the stored stuff out of our unused sunroom and put the two outdoor tables and about a dozen chairs in there. It was a daunting task. We've never used the sunroom as long as we've lived here, so the accumulated discarded toys, garage sale junk, and presents that haven't yet been re-gifted. I spent Thursday night clearing space in the kitchen, pantry, and cleaning the sunroom. All of Friday cleaning the sunroom. Alec also spent a good deal of time out there. We hemmed and hawed about the rainy forecasts all week that had yielded cloudy days and sun at times and ultimately decided at 9 PM that bringing the tables in this morning would be a lot of work. Whatever we were doing, we had to get it done before we went to bed.

We brought in 2 tables and about a dozen chairs, outfitted the tables with plastic cloths, blew up and hung balloons. I awoke at 6 AM and went to the kitchen in my jammies to make salads, and this is what our day looks like:

So now what?

I'm thinking I will set up the lone table in the garage outside with our cushioned chairs. We already had set this table up for the smokers in our clan...

We probably have about 9 chairs remaining outside.

Yeah, I hear you laughing...

Soliloquy

"I just am trying to find the right words...to say goodbye...to my dear friend." She puts her hands to her throat as if the words have stuck there, flutters her eyelashes, and tosses her head back. "It is just so hard for me to say goodbye, you see."

Impatience

"What are those pretty little flowers over there? Pansies?" Lauren asked.

"No, they're impatiens."

"Oh. Like the ones I bought you for Mother's Day?"

"The same. These are just a different color."

"I'm impatient." she announced.

"You are?"

"Yes. I just can't wait until we get to the school so we can have our picnic!"

"Good usage." I replied.

"Nice flowers." she returned.

First argument

Lindsay announced, "Dadadadada!"

"Daddy's at work, Lindsay. That's Mama."

"Dadadadada!"

"No," Lauren said slowly, "Ma-ma"

"Da-da," Lindsay replied, slowly.

Happy Mother's Day

On September 10, 2002, I became a mom. The process was nothing like the plan I'd carefully written in the back of my journal in elegant, looped cursive. It was probably that day that I realized that I could no longer meticulously plan things out. And eventually, I let it go. OK, I am letting go. OK. I do better at letting go some days than others.

I knew back then that pushing a couple of babies out high on an epidural wasn't going to be the hardest thing I'd have to do for them. Some days that's a pretty terrifying thought. My mom was there in the delivery room the day I had Lauren. Was that the hardest thing she had to do for me? I'm sure not. I'd probably venture a guess it's not even in her top 10 hardest things...

I hope what I am teaching my girls is that the best things in life are often hard, but worth it, because parenthood is definitely one of those things.

How times have changed

"And we'll all have chicken and dumplings when she comes..." I sang.

"Mom," Lauren interjected.

"Hmm?"

"Chocolate pizza."

"Wha?"

"We'll all have chocolate pizza when she comes," she sang back.

"Seriously?"

"Mmm hmm..."

I shook my head, "Wow."

Because I know you won't tell...

Lauren bound off the bus today in front of her bus stop friend, Dean, who is in kindergarten and bore a single marigold in a plastic cup for his mom.

"Oh, the plant sale's this week," I exclaimed. "Must remember to send money tomorrow..."

Lauren admired Dean's orange flower. "Mom," she said very seriously.

"Yes, honey?"

"I will need you to open Piggy tonight."

"Ok..."

"Because I want to use my own money to buy you a present for Mother's Day..."

My cheeks suddenly felt hot. I pressed the back of my right hand against my forehead, blinked away the tears that had come to my eyes, and nodded, "Ok, I will help you with that when we get home."

While I was straightening up the kitchen, she appeared behind me holding Piggy. "I want to do it now so that I don't forget," she said simply. "It's important."

She rushed out to watch some television as I struggled to open the plastic piggy bank, quite heavy with Alec's pocket change she'd been collecting for the past year. All of the crisp bills had been removed with trips to the toy store and pharmacy to pick up a bottle of bubbles or a rubber ball. I dumped an obligatory amount of change on to the table and then slipped a five dollar bill out of my own wallet in the pile. When she wandered back in, I said, "Here you are. I will put it into a bag for you."

She grinned. "Great. I'm glad that's taken care of. I feel better now."

"Cool," I managed.

Self portrait

God snickered

Retracing some steps over the course of a wonderful morning spent at the park, the reasons suddenly became clear why I wore my old Rocket Dogs instead of my insanely hip black Converse All Stars with the flames painted on the side, and brought along my camera:


Avoiding a newly paved patch of sidewalk, I tried to step on what I thought was a muddy patch between the sidewalk and the street as I lowered the stroller into the street. The ground gave and suddenly I found my entire foot encased in mud. I struggled at first to pull out as the cool mud oozed into my shoe. And then I just had to laugh at myself, because here I was stuck. As I laughed, I realized I was able to slide my foot out, mercifully still in its shoe.


Lindsay appreciates a good laugh just as much as the next girl. Why, yes. If you miss the embroidered flowers on her pants you might think she is dressed like a boy. And you'll astutely notice the I believe in miracles! crown from the Easter egg hunt is still in the bottom of our stroller. Don't make me kick you - my foot will probably stick.

Et voila

Aren't they festive? These are the dishtowel napkins. They are 100% cotton, and I chose blues and greens to go with our dining room rug. I'm about halfway through this project (some of the napkins are in the laundry already). They aren't precisely square, but folded into triangles it doesn't seem to matter. They sew up fast, so the time consuming part is the ironing and pinning.

Threatening shapes

"You know," Lauren remarked, "it's really just a ferocious square..." She traced a circle in the air with her finger.

"I believe you mean vicious circle..." I interjected.

"Ah. Yes. It's a vicious circle..."

Multitasking

Occasionally, I find myself doing something I couldn't have imagined before I had kids. Today, it was running down the stairs with a baby tucked under my arm, putting back on her pants as I stepped. I pulled a tissue out of my left pocket to wipe her nose as my feet met the floor at the bottom of the stairs.

Is there a Mom badge for that?

Moment of clarity

"I've been thinking a lot about something." Lauren started as I parked the car before school. "I really think we should discuss it."

"Alright." I said. "What do we need to discuss?"

"Grandpa Paul."

"Ok. What about Grandpa Paul?"

Lauren heaved a sigh. "I just wanted to say that I think he might be Santa Claus."

"What makes you say that?"

"Mom," she said in her all-business tone, "Did you look at Santa? He looked like Grandpa Paul. And where was Grandpa Paul when Santa was there? Oh. And G kissed him."

Christmas 2006

"That sounds like very good evidence." I said.

"So why did everyone pretend that Grandpa Paul is Santa Claus?"

"Because sometimes it's fun to pretend."

There goes her radio career

Lauren announces, while coloring, "I am coloring this person brown!"

"Nice. When someone has skin that color, we say they are black."

"But they aren't black. They're brown."

"Yes. But they prefer to be called black."

"Ms Brown is brown." she replies. Ms Brown teaches at Lauren's school.

"Yes. But she would prefer to be called black."

"Why would she want to be called Ms Black if that's not her name?"

Participating in a political process

If, for whatever reason, you read my blog and don't know me personally, let me set you straight - I am a little bit nuts. Not in a cross-the-street-to-avoid-the-drooling-freak sort of way, but in a neurotic, occasionally annoying, but usually funny way.

Yesterday was the big vote. And I received a chipper email this morning informing me that the budget had indeed passed, by 95 votes. The polls were open at 2 PM yesterday, so I decided to head down to my polling place, a local synagogue, after the bus arrived at 3. It's only about a 5 block walk, and parking is hard to come by on our main street, so I put Lin in the stroller and we walked despite the drizzle.

Alec had taken the girls to an Easter egg hunt a few weeks back at the Reform Church, and the party favors, most of them religious, had ended up in the bottom of the stroller. Notably, an Easter crown of eggs - about 8 eggs linked together paper doll-style each with a little saying about God, miracles, and Jesus. So seconds before we are about to enter one of the borough's conservative temples, Lauren has adorned herself with a paper crown that announces Jesus Loves Me!.

God has the best sense of humor though. Seriously. He really has to take his stand up routine on the road and tour with Seinfeld.

Just as we turned the corner, the paper crown blew off.

A girl, a couple years older than Lauren caught it in the air and handed it back to her. Lauren replied, "I think we should put this away now, Mom. I don't want to lose it."

"Oh ok. " I replied, tucking it back into the bottom of the stroller. I believe in miracles! beamed up from inside the black mesh basket.

We entered the synagogue, the crown forgotten. Since I had mentioned at the bus stop that Lauren would get a treat after this was over, that we'd reached the destination caused that thought to become itchy. "So, where's my treat?"

"After we're done, hon." I replied. Lindsay had become fussy, so I was trying to read the district numbers for each check in table while I rocked the stroller back and forth.

"What is it?"

"A lollipop."

"May I have it?"

And usually, my friends, I offer a lollipop as a treat because it in of itself is a quiet distraction. I collect the ones that the bank gives away so I usually have a stash of Wachovia blue and green. If it was the sort you buy at the store, it would've had the reassuring K to indicate that one might use is as bait in the synogogue, but after the banana bread incident, I don't take these chances. "Once we leave. They have a lot of rules about food in a synagogue."

Lauren looked enchanted - her favorite sort of rules are food rules. "Really, what kind of rules?" she asked loudly.

"No lollipops." I lied.

"Ohhh." she breathed. "Ok." She watched excitedly as I pushed buttons, and pushed the big red VOTE button when I finished.

As we walked to the door, she stopped the smartly dressed woman entering to warn her, "No lollipops in here, ma'am. They have food rules."

Oy.

At the same age

Lauren, July 2003

Lauren and Lindsay, April 2007

They have the same nose and mouth - mine, I think. But the face shapes are very different, and so are the eye shapes. Lauren's eyes are almond-shaped, and Lindsay's are round. Although this isn't a great picture to see it, Lauren's eyes have already changed to hazel, while Lindsay's are still remarkably blue. Lauren's hair was a little longer, and quite a bit darker.

And to think I knew you when

My dear friend was recently exposed for the trouble-maker he is. And he is a huge trouble-maker. He's also one of the funniest people I know, and mostly because he isn't trying to be funny. I never knew him as a young man, so I can't say he turned 50 and lost his filters. From our mutual acquaintances, I suspect it is safe to say that he is as God made him. Not only has he been a great friend, he has been a continual fan of my family's life and has lent support in more ways than I can enumerate.

He has known Lauren since she was a speck on an ultrasound film, back when we referred to her as The Munchkin. She spent the better part of her first year hanging out in his office. And because (or perhaps in spite of) they share the same birthday, he has always had a great affection for her and delights in stories about the person she's become.

We were on the phone catching up about vacations and household construction when Lauren sauntered into the room and asked, "Mom, may I please mop the floor?"

I could actually hear him holding his breath. Several seconds passed before he asked, "Did she just ask if she could mop?!"

Nonchalantly, I led her to the kitchen and handed her the rag mop and told her to do the kitchen first and work her way to the living room.

"May I use the duster after that?"

"Sure, I will leave the broom closet open. Just make sure that you only take out one tool at a time, okay?"

"Okay, Mom."
So she proceeded to do that, and as you can see from the pictures, talked all the while in typical Lauren fashion.
"She likes to mop."

"Oh my..." He was actually giggling at this point.

"I've always been good at managing people..."

"Yes...but...wow. Oh my."

"You're kicking yourself that you didn't think of it first."

"Wow."

"And if I say that Lindsay is here looking on wistfully..."

"You're so cool. And to think I knew you when..."

Once they start talking, they can talk back

"What's that on your face?"

"What's on my face?"

"What did you draw with on your face?"

"What did I..."

"Was it marker?"

Woeful expression. Averted eyes.

"Should I take that as a 'Yes'?"

***

"Bye bye, Baby," the cashier says. She waves.

Lindsay looks at her quizzically.

"She will say "Bye" and wave about fifteen minutes from now."

A quarter hour later:

"Buh bah," Lindsay says, jerking her whole left arm up and down awkwardly. "Buh bah."

Finding her Punk roots, or How Lindsay celebrated Easter...

Props to Karen at Reason Enough for the photo (and the fabulous Easter dinner).

And then Lauren told the giant Peppermint Pattie that he looked tasty...

Some of the sweetest moments

Ready for bed

Lindsay's first carousel ride

Learning to fly

Alec discussing philosophy (or perhaps gravity?) with Lauren

Some pictures

The girls, dressed to go to Tuesday's Seder

Lauren prepares to be a flower girl for the third time

Lauren and Alec at Cracker Barrel in Allentown, PA

Lindsay waits patiently for her grilled cheese

My not-so baby girl

is standing...

Lindsay and Lauren and their babies

Lindsay has a baby boy and Lauren has a baby girl. Lauren feeds her daughter a bottle.

Lindsay decides to show Lauren how it's done.

Lauren loses it. Lindsay quietly wonders why.

Real moms

...don't shy from photographing unflattering pictures of their own bodies if it means getting that cute shot...
I got tagged by Karen on this one. Real moms also count fruit eaten (even if smothered with chocolate sauce and whipped cream, or honey and cinnamon) a small victory...

Oh and tag, you're it, Lisa...

Girly giggles

Lindsay and Lauren, March 2007

They're actually not giggling, but laughing hysterically. Lindsay is sitting on top of me, so I am taking this picture lying on the couch.

Lindsay is mostly very thoughtful and serious, like here.And another day comes to a close Chez Stoll.

The girls

Watching The Wiggles together, March 2007

The chuppah square

We've been working on a quilt square for Alec's stepbrother's chuppah, the tent under which the ceremony takes place in a Jewish wedding. It's been about a 2 week process. Lauren and I painted the background (with some touch-up by Alec). Alec designed and cut out the felt figures. Lauren chose the material and selected for each figure. I stitched the figures and fabrics to the square, and embroidered the hair. The result is really amazing.

The Stolls, July 2007

The natives are [bad word]

Lauren (to someone's mom who just arrived): Will your son play with me?

Someone's Mom (in a thick accent): Yes.

Lauren: May I touch your baby?

Baby smiles and coos at Lauren.

Someone's Mom: No. The baby is sleeping.

Lauren: Uhhh. Ok.

Someone's Mom sidles up next to me. "You go to church?"

"Uh, no."

"You have a babysitter?"

Oh yeah, right, lady. You already lied to my kid in front of me. "Uh, yes. Thanks. You enjoy your day!"

If I lived here, I might be home by now, but I'd be really scared...

Somewhere in Staten Island

Please, someone tell them it's the middle of March.

A MoMA-ent

Epiphany Alone hanging out with Rodin's Monument to Balzac at the Museum of Modern Art.

When I got dressed today I thought this outfit looked a little too 80's with all the denim and the chartreuse t-shirt, but it wasn't too bad when I was wearing the sweater. Of course, it was 110 degrees inside the museum, so I tied the sweater around my waist. Niiiice look, right? And I have no idea why my stylist gave me my mother's haircut...

Nasty epiphany of the day

I still remember how to stop an infant from choking from the babysitting course I took when I was 12.

If you mix table food with 9 1/2-month old, sooner or later, she will try to stuff more in her mouth than she can actually eat. Lindsay chose sooner. She stopped breathing. She turned blue. I picked her up and gave 5 sharp blows between her shoulders, and the offending piece of sweet potato cartoonishly flew across the room.

What we did today

Lauren and I made a loaf of banana bread with some overripe bananas. I'm embarrassed to say I didn't think this up, I read it in a magazine. I felt so silly. Anyway, this is nut-free because we wanted Lindsay to be able to have some. It made the house smell wonderful, and it looks remarkably like bread. Lauren agrees it tastes pretty good also.



Lindsay decided yesterday that she was done with baby food. She wants table food. We made an emergency run to the grocery store to pick up some canned fruits and vegetables. She enjoyed some "institutional vegetables" (peas and cubed carrots) along with some pasta with tomato sauce for lunch...


...with peaches and pears for dessert. If she could talk beyond "uh oh" and "duhk" she would say, "Don't help me. I can do it myself".

Out of the housepet stage

"Here, Lindsay, you hang on to the duck."

"Duh."

"Yeah, that's a duck!"

"Duh."

Fifty cent words

"I am always a little apprehensive about getting my
hair cut."

Unlikely

Directly after I explained to my 4-year-old how unlikely it is we would have to call the police, of course, I had to call the police.

My next door neighbor asked me to collect his mail and newspapers while he and his wife traveled South to her eldest son's school. It's "March Madness" and he's a team captain. He was very excited about the trip. He said, in his drawl, "Well, I just thought we shouldn't have a stack of mail and newspapers advertising we were gone so that someone came and stole the stereo."

I noticed as I was washing the dinner dishes that there were several lights on in the house that weren't on when I'd served dinner. I was surprised to see a male figure walk across the darkened kitchen. I hesitated though. They have 4 kids between them. I had no idea if one or more were staying in the house, or if someone was over perhaps to feed the cat. I decided that the neighbor probably wouldn't have asked me to collect mail if someone were feeding the cat or if his kid(s) were there, and called the police.

There were 3 cruisers outside in 2 minutes. I saw the police walk around the perimeter of the property, and then it was quiet for a long time. Forty minutes passed, the cruisers still on the street. So I thought, well something must've been going on...

After I tucked Lindsay into bed, and in the middle of Lauren's story, an officer arrived at my door. He'd set two bottles on my porch. "Good evening, Ma'am. Did you call about the neighbor's house?"

"Yes, Officer." I replied. "I was concerned that I was sending in the police to bother my neighbor's cat sitter."

"Oh, no, Ma'am." he answered. "There were quite a lot of teenagers there with a couple of kegs of beer and bottles. I guess that their son had decided he'd have a party."

I nodded. "Oh."

"So we ended it a little early."

"I see. Well, thank you, Officer. You have a good night."

I went back upstairs and explained to Lauren why I'd called the police, because I didn't know if it was safe for me to go over there. I called the police and they checked it out, and they found that the neighbor's son was at the house when he wasn't supposed to be.

"Oh." said she.

"And Lauren?"

"Yeah?"

"Probably when you're a teenager, this is a bad neighborhood to try and have a keg party when your parents are away."

"Ok, Mom."

Riiight.

Aftermath of Child Assault Prevention week at school

"And then we will go play outside, I will keep a lookout for strangers. And then if I see one, I will holler, 'Stranger' and we will go hide. And then we can go inside the house and shut the door. And then if the stranger comes to the door we will NOT answer it, we will stay quietly inside and the stranger will think no one is home and go away. And then we should know that we must never be left alone inside the house."

Adoration

Lindsay and Lauren, February 2007

Happy Valentines

We are happy valentines Chez Stoll. All three girls got flowers:

Mom's flowers

Lauren's flowers

Lindsay's flowers

And a present for Alec:

Front walk Chez Stoll, through the dining room window.

No, I didn't shovel, honey. But you didn't grow the flowers either...and I still love them.

And I took this last one yesterday for Karen. I thought about how much I loved to see Lindsay wear Lauren's hand-me-downs, so I tried to take a picture of Lindsay wearing "Bugs on Parade", however, she said, "Mama. It's nap time."

Lindsay calls it quits.

Her fan club

Lauren is the kid in the class everybody likes. I can't say I truly understand what constitutes popular at age 4. This was what the teachers told us way back when she was a toddler in daycare - the other kids just like her - her peers, the older kids. Anyway, I'm not complaining...it's certainly better than the alternative.

And so, this wasn't the first time I have been approached by a fellow parent in a store, child tagging behind, with an awed whisper, "It's Lauren!" But this time, it was in the Target a couple towns away, in the art supply aisle. Classmate's dad appeared to be by himself. He looked at me vaguely, trying to place where he knew me. Looked at Lauren.

"Hey," I said.

"Our kids are in the same class..." he exclaimed.

"Yep."

"Mine is Nicole."

"This is Lauren." I replied. Lauren looked at me. "He's Nicole's dad."

"Oh..." she said. "Hi, Nicole's dad."

"Wow...This is Lauren?! Oh my goodness. Nicole is always talking about Lauren."

I chuckled. "Yes, they must be friends at school. Lauren talks about Nicole too."

"Wow. I have to go get her..." He returned a couple minutes later with Nicole, who had been admiring princess dresses a couple aisles away with her grandmother.

So we admired princess dresses with Nicole for a while, and then Lauren and I had one of our conversations that went like this:

"K. We're going to have to finish up our shopping so we can head home. I don't want to have to drive in the snow."

"I'll drive."

"Well, you know, Lauren, when you can actually drive the car, that will be a relevant offer, but right now, it's not. We're going in a couple of minutes."

"When I'm sixteen, I can drive..."

"True. But that isn't going to help me this afternoon."

Classmate's dad alternated between looking surprised and amused by this exchange.

Twelve small steps

"Hi, my name is Lauren..."

"Hi, Lauren."

"I never lie to other people..."

"That's great."

"I only lie to myself..."

"Oh. Not so great..."

My mommy the blogger

Another weird shot from Lauren's camera. I don't know that I'm actually blogging in this picture, but since there are about a half dozen pictures at the laptop, her perception is either I am often at the computer or it's just too hard to take a picture of me standing up.
And this one is titled: Daddy, Fashionista.

Lindsay

Lindsay at 8 1/2 months, February 2007

An action shot of Lindsay, sitting up on one knee, picks up and drops her teething ring. This is a common position, she uses it to turn around toward the bent leg, pushing off on the straight leg. It appears to be a study in holding her upper body straight as she bends and straightens her legs, part of her quest to stand unsupported in the center of the room. She favors her left hand. Also, socks have suddenly become unpopular.

Come home, your girls miss you

Bye, bye, Baby

Lindsay is growing in leaps and bounds. But more than that, she's evolved into quite an endearing little person. The itty bitty baby is gone, and I can already see the toddler emerging.

She's not into pulling herself up on stuff, but rather, she tries to stand in the middle of the room. She will crawl along, and slide her feet under her a la downward facing dog of yoga fame, land on one knee to hold her upper body straight. It is as though she is training herself in the art of standing. She is expert at crawling, sitting, turning her body mid-sit and changing direction.

Her vocalizations are starting to become deliberate sounds. Alec and I heard her first distinct word about a week ago, "Mama!" She repeated it until she got fed. This week, she's been working on "Uh oh!" She was surprised by Seamus jumping on the bed while she was sitting on it. When I said "Kitty", she responded with "Psssst" as though she was calling the kitty.

She continues to enjoy eating baby food, and likes everything she's tried except green beans, which she usually spits. She enjoys gnawing on a Zwieback cookie with her very sharp tooth. I noticed today there is a second tooth starting to erupt.

She hates getting dressed, and loves to have her tooth brushed. She opens her mouth and makes a "Nuh nuh nuh" sound. She loves bath time. She prefers to recline, feet in hands, a toe or two to nibble on and watch Lauren play with toys.

Weird religion

We've been reading a book nearly nightly about Passover. It's a great little book that explains the story of Exodus, as well as the symbols used during a Seder. We usually attend at least one, so I figured this year it would make it a little less boring for her if she knew what was going on and why.

I had a little trouble explaining WHY the door is opened for Elijah the Prophet. She insisted that the illustrator did a "Very bad job because you can't see him". I tried to explain that you don't actually see him. Pouring him a glass of wine and opening the door for him is symbolic. She didn't like that answer. I mean, if you're going to open the door, someone better show up.

We've also been talking about Saints Valentine and Patrick. Now, the story of Saint Valentine is a bit more concrete, but Saint Patrick and the Irish snakes? She demanded, "So where are the snakes now? Did he put them on a plane and send them somewhere else?"

I have no answers.

Oh puleease...

"Do you need help unzipping your parka?"

"Yes, please, Mom."

"Don't forget to take your snack and your folder out of your backpack."

"Mom?"

"Yeah?"

"I've been going to school for years. I know to take out my snack and folder out."

"Ok, honey."

"You don't have to remind me."

As the bowl flushes

Not only do I regretfully have to announce the demise of Candy III, but also the remaining 2 Cookies and the algae eaters, yet unnamed.

We're thinking that Alec's saltwater tank savvy just doesn't translate cross-platform to freshwater...and also, that maybe Candy IV will be one of those magnetic fish.

Changes

"May I please change my birthday to Valentine's Day?"

"What? No. You can't change your birthday, honey. It is the anniversary of the day you were born."

"But Valentine's Day is a special day."

"Your birthday is also a special day."

"Can I decide what to do on my birthday?"

"Sure."

"Thanks, Mom."

On some Mondays...

"On some Mondays, it's Martin Luther King's birthday. But, he's dead. So he doesn't have cake."

Lauren on the phone with a classmate.