Happy birthday, Dad!

Dad turns 57 today. If you have moment, go over and wish him a happy...

I wrote this post a long while back. It was my post 300, and I'm on post 870 or something. I think it encapsulates both our serious and silliness. I hope my dad is around for a long time, purely selfishly, because he has great perspective and doesn't take himself too seriously which is a lesson at 34 that I haven't quite learned. Also? We had our first summer vacation in August with Ben and Maria, and it was just awesome.

Here are 100 things that I learned from my dad:

1. To keep my eye on the ball.
2. Honesty is the best policy.
3. Except when it isn't.
4. To distinguish right from wrong.
5. That there's a lot of gray area in life.
6. Sometimes good people do bad things, and that doesn't necessarily make them bad.
7. Sometimes bad things happen anyway.
8. To ask for it "Medium Rare".
9. To order it "very dry on the rocks with an olive".
10. That olives out of a vodka martini are very tasty.11. That two wrongs don't make a right.
12. Don't put it in your nose.
13. Don't put it up your brother's nose.
14. And certainly don't eat things that came out of your nose.
15. Or (JESUS CHRIST!) your brother's nose either.
16. How to play PIG.
17. How to play HORSE.
18. That HORSE is just a long version of PIG.
19. That I was never going to play professional basketball.
20. How to back in to a parking space for my driver's test.

21. How to look up words in the dictionary.
22. How to properly hold a fork.
23. To chew with my mouth closed.
24. Not to wiggle in my chair with my fork in hand.
25. Not to run with scissors.
26. To enjoy escargot.
27. How not to mortify Gramma while dining out at "her club".
28. To be a ham.
29. How to eat a lobster.
30. That my napkin belongs in my lap.
31. How to do the crawl stroke.
32. How to play Monkey in the Middle.
33. That the game was more fun when you're NOT the monkey.
34. To be able to name any Beatles song ever recorded just by listening to the opening 5 chords.
35. Not to do something simply because I can.
36. Different people like different things.
37. Ninety-five percent of the people you encounter are assholes.
38. That we're part of the other 5 percent (most of the time).
39. Sometimes the best laughs you have are at your own expense.
40. Particularly when you've forgotten your own birthday.

41. All the words to Don McLean's American Pie.
42. My multiplication tables.
43. How to ride a bicycle.
44. Not to ask someone to do something I was not willing to do myself.
45. To always end a conversation with "I love you".
46. That respect is something you earn.
47. That it's possible to have faith and to be a good person without belonging to or attending church.
48. That there are 3 sides to every story: mine, his, and The Truth.
49. That it's possible to forgive someone without forgetting her transgression.
50. That a firm, strong handshake is important.
51. The difference between a Phillip's head and flathead screwdriver.
52. To love Casablanca.
53. Not to say "I can't", or "I'll try", instead to say "I will".
54. That anything worth doing is worth doing well.
55. That truth is stranger than fiction.
56. That even a truly mundane experience can later make a funny story.
57. That it's a good idea to have a back up plan.
58. How to ice skate.
59. Not to be the first person out onto the ice.
60. That making people laugh is a good ice breaker.
61. To love music.
62. To listen to different types of music, whether or not you think you like the genre. You're usually surprised.
63. To be comfortable on stage.
64. How to make hospital corners.
65. How to operate the washing machine and dryer.
66. To learn from mistakes, but not to dwell on them.
67. To accept responsibility for my actions.
68. To graciously accept praise.
69. That a good sense of humor can carry you through many unpleasant situations.
70. That it's best not to play favorites.
71. A drink won't fix it, but it can't hurt either.
72. Not to date famous rockstars in their 60s.
73. Even if they have a lot of money.
74. That persistence sometimes pays off.
75. That sometimes it's better NOT to try to fix it yourself.
76. That "texting" someone is just dumb.
77. To appreciate Alan Alda's sense of humor.
78. That in every generation, there was a "right" way to do something that we now look back on wondering what the hell people were thinking.
79. To love your mom even if she is a crazy nutball sometimes.
80. How to keep a scorecard at a baseball game.81. To order it with hot fudge, whipped cream, salted nuts, and a cherry.
82. To be patient.
83. That being patient isn't always the correct response.
84. How to memorize a script.
85. That the spinning rides at the amusement park were a lot of fun, and more so before eating.
86. To like pistachios.
87. To appreciate the relationships I have with my siblings.
88. To listen without judging.
89. You can't lose if you don't play.
90. Never get into a fight with an ugly person.
91. Never argue with crazy people.
92. Always wear clean underwear in case you get hit by a bus.
93. Sometimes it's really funny to state the obvious.
94. Parsimony.
95. That if it seems too good to be true, it probably is.
96. To wait for a better offer.
97. That tough love has its place, and so does telling someone what they need/want to hear.
98. That making my bed and keeping my room clean were a good start.
99. That if you can't knock 'em dead, at least leave 'em laughing.
100. To live well, to love completely, and to never regret anything.

Happy Birthday, Dad! I hope you have a great day.

Happy Halloween!

Lauren and Lindsay, October 2008

Too much already figured out

We started giving Lauren an allowance several weeks ago. She has a chore list, and earns 25 cents per completed chore, with the potential of earning just over $10 per week. A far cry from the dollar I earned at age 6.

Of the $10, a dollar goes to the charity of her choice. This week, it is going to UNiCEF. Last week, she put it in her offering envelope for church. She has also put money into the school food drive for our district's needy families for their Thanksgiving dinner.

Half goes into her Orange Savings account, which is earning a paltry 3% interest these days.

The other half, she can spend as she chooses, this week she bought a bag of candy corn (kandy korn?) and a Littlest Pet Shop toy.

This conversation ensued about her spending money...

"Mom, can I really spend my money on whatever I want?"

"Sure. You can buy a box of Fruit Loops (not a cereal we usually get) or a candy bar if you want. Or save it up a few weeks and buy a DS game...whatever you want..."

"Really?"

"Yep. The only two things you can't buy with it are cigarettes and beer."

"Oh."

"Because cigarettes are very bad for you..."

"Yes, I know that..."

"And the State of New Jersey says you are too young to drink beer."

"Yes. But you said I get to spend my savings money when I am in college."

"Yep. You can use it to help you buy a car, or maybe pay for stuff you need at school..."

"Well, then I will use it to buy beer."

Yes, I guess you will.

Juliana

On Tuesdays, we sort at the thrift shop. Though it is a lot of work, it is tremendously rewarding to leave two hours after we arrived as we stand back to observe neatly organized toys and racks full of clothes. It seems to be my job, besides to oversee the children's section, to encourage. I cheer on, and always applaud at the end of our time - Look how much we accomplished! - because otherwise, it's work never done.

Juliana also volunteers at the thrift shop. I don't know how old she is. My guess is probably in her 70s. Her job, besides to stock the women's racks, is to keep things light. She often will put a crazy outfit over her clothes and model it on her petite frame. "What do you think, girls?" she'll say, tossing a scarf over her shoulder with a flourish. "Is it me?"

"Gorgeous, Juliana."

"I'm so glad. And now, it is time for my cigarette break..."

At church, she always comes over to my family during the passing of the peace, she squeezes my hand in her cool palm. "Are you coming on Tuesday?"

"I hope so," I always reply.

"Good!"

There is something about Juliana: her slight frame, her coiffed hair, or her girlish silliness that reminds me of another, much younger Juliana. Who it warms my heart to think of as an old woman still making people laugh with her spontaneous sense of humor.

Yes We Carve

See others at YesWeCarve.com...

Shoes

We have a metal basket in our front hall for shoes. It works out well - it's very unusual Chez Stoll to have to hunt down shoes.

Lindsay took off her sneakers when we got home from dropping off Lauren at school this morning. "Put your sneakers in the shoe basket," I reminded her.

"Yes. I know. And I put my socks in the sock basket."

The sock basket? "Ok." I replied.

When I went back into the living room, I passed the shoe bin and noticed her sneakers neatly placed on top. She'd also neatly placed her socks on the top of the dirty laundry. The sock basket.

Dressed up for pumpkin picking

Girls at bedtime

Lauren playing soccer

Her feet don't even touch the ground when she runs, see? I think she is running sprints between the sidelines here...

More Lindsay

"No hitting, Lindsay."

"Sorry, Mommy."

"If you can't stop hitting, you're going to get a time out. Do you want a time out?"

"No, thanks."

According to Lindsay

"Did you want a snack?"

"Yes, I'm hungry. Please get a bee-ah."

"You want a banana?"

"Yes. I need a bee-ah, please."

"Ok. Do you want to eat it like a monkey?"

"No. I want to eat it like a tiger."

I blinked. Like a tiger? Whole, skin and all? I didn't suggest this aloud. "How does a tiger eat a banana?"

"Cut up on a plate."

"Oh...okay."

With the webcam

Turning this over in my mind

When I was 19, I worked for a professor babysitting his two kids. His son was 6, and his daughter was 8. Every day, I took the T out to the suburbs, picked them up from school, walked them home, gave them a snack and helped them with their homework.

I smoked back then, something that didn't come up until some time later because they hadn't asked. It didn't smoke in front of their kids. I think it came up because I'd left something in their car, and they returned to the train station where I was having a cigarette while waiting on the T back into the city. They were unhappy about it...and I recall after I left the job after a year, that the posting for the next sitter said "nonsmokers only".

When I met the sitter who watches my girls, since one of her jobs was to feed them dinner, I let her know that we don't do food punishments or rewards in our house. If the kids don't want to eat something, they aren't made to. If there is dessert, they get it regardless of how much dinner they ate. I explained the reasons why, and she said it wasn't something she'd thought about before.

As she was leaving on Tuesday evening, she mentioned in passing that she was on her way to the gym. "Wow, it's late" I replied. "I like working out in the morning.'

"Yeah, I worked out this morning."

"Huh."

"I'm trying to fit into this dress I bought for a wedding. I have to lose 15 pounds in 3 weeks, so I am going to the gym twice a day."

I think my jaw dropped. I realized I hadn't seen until that moment under her "college wear" - loose-fitting jeans and hoodie, that she had lost quite a bit of weight since last I saw her. I guess even if I had noticed, it's been a few months.

I replied quickly that I'd just dropped off a couple of dresses I'd worn before I was pregnant to formal affairs at the church thrift shop, and I was sure if she went in with $5 she could buy one of them which would cheaply and easily be altered to fit her in 3 weeks time. She smiled politely but it was clear that she was still heading for the gym.

There's a normalcy of this behavior. Plenty of women who I know lose huge amounts of weight to look good in a dress or wedding pictures or whatever. This sort of behavior is praised. I tried not to sound like the professor's wife, but I was entirely at a loss for words.

Lauren playing soccer

Randomness

Lauren: "Deer die easily."

Me: "They do?"

Lauren: "Yeah. They are too soft on the outside and their insides are too fragile."

***

Lindsay, playing pirate: "Hi, Mateys!"

***

This morning, Lauren sat reading a book to herself about Ernie and Bert.

"What are you reading?"

"It's a book about Sesame Street, y'know the tv show?"

"Is it good?"

"It's kind of predictable."

At my computer

I thought this picture ended up kind of cute. Happy Friday!

Some quick points and pictures

Don't get too excited. My camera is broken, so these are some bad ones from my phone.

We're doing soccer and children's choir at church, so all our activities are compressed into the first 3 days of the week. Last night we didn't get home until 7:20 from soccer, and then had to make and eat dinner, bathe, and get the kids to bed. After struggling to make dinner after soccer practice on Monday, I did all my dinner prep early. It meant we got the kids to bed at 8:30 instead of 9:15, so that was good.

On Fridays, we go to the farmer's market in town, and drive out to Suydam Farm to feed the chickens and buy eggs. They also have sheep. We pet them. When Lindsay and I got there on Friday morning, we discovered they had about a dozen piglets.

Lindsay called them "scaredy pigs" because one of them would startle and then they all would run into the barn. Lindsay thought this was very funny.

On Tuesdays, Lauren has soccer clinic. She wanted me to take a picture of her posing. You can actually see her new 'do in that picture. No more ponytail. Unfortunately, every other girl she knows has this same chin-length haircut (though most of them don't wear it with bangs), and I still don't recognize her all the time with short hair.


Lindsay gets really into the practice. Here she is dribbling the ball. She's the red blur in the background - she was wearing an Elmo shirt. She was sort of playing with the blonde in pink the the foreground who didn't understand, as Lindsay does, that soccer is a game you play with your feet.


Yeah, that's the youngest Anderson girl, but I don't remember her name.

A bit of an update

I had thought about pulling Lauren out of school today and trying to attend a memorial in the city, but the idea of going into the city with my two kids was a little scary for me. I thought I might make my morning walk longer, but I found that walking this morning, catching my clock at 8:43 AM, that I remember those details just too vividly...walking down 8th Avenue to work, noticing people were stopped and pointing up. Looking up, finally. Ducking into the coffee shop, smelling their dark roast. They were listening to 1010WINS, and they were just announcing the second plane hit as I paid for my morning cup. I went outside into the little alcove where I would sip my coffee and smoke a cigarette, looking at a grotesque hole in the North Tower, with flames leaping out and smoke billowing. The atmosphere on the streets was becoming panicked, and I retreated to the silence of my office - I was the first one in always. My phone was ringing as I sat down, it was my mother, and then Alec. The phones were gone pretty much directly after that with all of the circuits either jammed or gone.

Today, I walked to church to sit on this bench under a weeping willow, but with the construction on our church grounds, the bench is not there right now. I sat on another bench with Lindsay, watching squirrels gathering acorns, birds bathing in nearby mud puddles. Lindsay gathered sticks from the ground (in her bare feet) and tried to put them back on a nearby bush.

I tried to focus on how much life we've lived in those 7 years, as I looked at the big muddy construction site due to be housing for a family transitioning out of a homeless shelter, the beginnings of our church's community garden planted so that we could provide our town's food pantry with fresh vegetables, and what will eventually be a prayer garden. It's not much now, but it is brewing hope. A promise of what will be.

September 11 didn't shatter my hope. My hope was already shattered then. It stomped on broken bits. Things couldn't be the same after that. Many of my coworkers left New York City shortly after that, never to return. I ended up closer. Six months after that, I took a job on Chambers Street, two blocks away from where those buildings once stood.

For today, I will try to carry on, maybe not business as usual as life around me seems, but with some semblance of profound gratitude and hope.

Lauren's birthday

It's hard to believe that 6 years ago, I held you...my itty bitty little munchkin...for the first time. This picture was taken about 30 hours after you were born, because, as I described yesterday, I was too sick in the 24 hour period after having given birth to be taken down to the NICU to see my baby. My first few days of motherhood were filled with these sort of disappointments - it was not the "birth plan" I had chosen - to be admitted a full day before having you, on what seemed to be every sort of monitoring machine in the unit while they tried to keep my blood pressure stable. The long period of not getting to see you while Daddy gushed about feeding you from a tiny bottle holding a mere ounce of formula. Being told that you would be kept at the NICU for some indetermined amount of time after I left...which ended up being only 24 hours...there was something that felt like failure in that first day, being home with no baby. Daddy would call the NICU to find out when you'd had your last bottle, when you'd gone to sleep to try and stave off the tears.

You were so tiny. 16 inches tall, 4 pounds 3 ounces at birth and just 4 pounds when we brought you home. In those first 8 weeks, we had 8 weigh-ins (one with a visiting nurse at our home), and feedings every 2 hours by the clock, even in the dead of night. Daddy and I split feedings so that we could get a mere 4 hours of continuous sleep.

And those out there in the Internets probably remember that even though your newborn wasn't 4-pounds that at times it felt you were only keeping her alive by the sheer force of your will. You'd get up even when it wasn't one of those every 2 hour feedings to stare into the bassinet at your bedside to watch her tiny chest rise and fall.

Self portrait, August 2008

You're just too cool for me these days. Our conversations are punctuated by eye rolls, foot stamps, and door slams, but you're still my little munchkin.

I love you, peanut. Happy birthday!

It may not be happening, but it did happen

I've been doing more than my share of whining lately. It's not very appealing or productive.

It occurred to me that my current state of upset is bigger than adjusting to the day without Lauren, my current level of activity including Irving, the PTO, art history class, church, whether or not Lauren can bring a snack for her class for her birthday, even flea abatement. My reactions are so far over the top from what's reasonable. I wrote today "I'm struggling a lot", and it is true but with what? I'm behaving as though the sky is falling.

And it dawned on me.

Seven years ago this Thursday, the sky fell.

And when I had that thought, I started sobbing uncontrollably. I write that with some guilt because although I was in NYC that day, I was 12 blocks away. Lives were much more effected than mine. I don't know anyone who never came home. But I can say when I think of that day, I feel the thick smoke caught in my throat. I hear the constant sirens roaring down Seventh Avenue. I remember how lost we were staring at signs in the twice closed Grand Central Station not able to comprehend.

There was heightened alert, as though you were constantly vigilant to hear what couldn't be heard and see what couldn't be seen. There were weeks when you had to plan your commute around the subway you were on being evacuated for suspicious packages and Anthrax scares. The fires burned at Ground Zero for months. The posters of the missing and then presumed dead their smiling faces from happy times of their lives holding children, dressed on their wedding day...spouses, children, parents were mourning them.

I just don't have the words to make you understand the ache inside me when confronted with all this. I have maintained media silence every 9/11, including the one I spent a year later in a New York City hospital a year later waiting for someone to tell me how my tiny 4 pound baby was doing because I was confined to my bed and she was in the NICU. The charge nurse who cheerily came in to introduce herself at the 7 AM shift change found me sobbing because I'd convinced myself I was never going to see little Lauren, and with all the drugs I was on they had just not told me yet she hadn't survived.

I'm not doing a good job of just pretending that it's just any day where we soldier on and walk on treadmills and go to school. I don't know what to do about that right now, but it seems I have 48 hours to figure that out.

First day of school

Lauren sporting her new "back to school" 'do, the butterfly dress with a built in sparkly necklace(!), and her 1st grade present - a ladybug bracelet from Auntie Jules.

More later...

Adoption notice

In response to...

Those poor animals, sounds as though you can't handle them. Why not put them up for adoption?They shouldn't be left outside while you take a nice vacation.

Two geriatric flea-infested black cats:

Nearly 14 year old male cat who will urinate and defecate on everything except the litter box. Particularly likes to poo on the seat of the dining room chairs. Lately, he makes a hornking noise when you look at him, as though he might cough up a hairball at any moment.

Twelve year old female cat has an anxiety disorder, or maybe an esophageal defect, or a combination of these two that results in random vomiting around the house. This usually occurs about 3 times per day, but up to 8. She prefers to vomit behind radiators and under furniture so that you find it months later, hardened like cement.

Overwhelmed

I wanted to share with you the very relaxing and wonderful vacation we had last week, but the past 40 hours or so since my return have been tremendously stressful. Despite the money we've spent having the house fumigated and bombed, the flea infestation was at a fever pitch when we returned on Saturday. Although we'd left Seamus outside, he snuck back in to soil several pieces of furniture. Alec had tried to shut Shannon out of our bedroom to keep her off of our mattresses, but it resulted in her getting locked in Lindsay's room. I can't blame her for using Lindsay's changing pad as her litter box. If you've watched nature shows featuring piranha, the fleas were similar when we returned. I immediately took the girls outside and sprayed them head-to-toe in bug spray.

We had had the foresight to schedule another bug treatment on Saturday afternoon, so Alec waited with Lindsay for the Orkin man, while Lauren and I went out to take care of some critical errands - buying presents for her friends' birthday party, replacing the pair of glasses Lin broke while we were on vacation. We finished in time to pick up Lindsay and Alec as the Orkin man told us that if we were to let the cats back in the house, Frontline or not, we'd be doing this until December or January.

We'd made the decision given Seamus' new no-litter policy, that he would be living in the yard from now on. We debated what to do with Shannon while we were out. I can give you a hundred rationalizations about why it's best for us to do that, but ultimately, Shannon herself made the decision. While we were out, she somehow escaped her pet carrier.

We spent yesterday throwing stuff away and vacuuming. I had saved quite a lot of Lindsay's smaller clothes in the drawers under her bed, where Shannon slept while trapped in her room. We bought a new vacuum, an upright canister vac with a HEPA filter and Alec vacuumed nearly every surface of the house. I've done approximately 8 loads of laundry, despite having returned from vacation with 3 suitcases of clean clothes. Today, there are still 3 loads in progress, and despite seemingly constant cleaning, our kitchen is too filthy to cook in, but the laundry and kitchen have to wait for other commitments today.

I'll tell you about vacation when I'm feeling a little less overwhelmed. Given school starts in 10 days and Lauren's birthday party is Saturday, that might not be soon...

My mind is still at the beach

Karen captured this moment. Bethi and I are walking out to look at the rocks. The storms from the night before hung over the eastern sky, strong enough to upset the canoe and lodge it underneath the neighbor's stairs to the beach.

What

I want to write about the weekend, leaving it in the warm, diffuse light of the Canadian sun shining through the windows of a cabin on the shore of Lake Erie. The warmth of wood walls painted in cheerful apples with Christian names of family who sleep in these bunks and tent in the yard. Who comb the beach looking for smooth stones with a hole that goes the way through.

I came without expectations...without anticipations.

The Steven King novella titled with a Ben E. King song came out the summer I turned 13. There's a line at the end about how you never have friends like you do when you're 12, and I remember the group I was in with and how we laughed easily and often. Your words spilled freely, some nice and some not, but they were accepted as they were and not subject to the later angsty teenage paranoia and interpretation.

To be in a group of women, a group of friends some of whom friends longer than half their lives, longer than they can remember a time before they were friends is like being able to step back into that moment of time when you were too self-conscious to let a friend see you exactly as you are and not as you'd like to be or as you like for people to see you.

And maybe it is this group of friends that the love is just so big and so deep that you're instantly enveloped in it.

And maybe it is being in a cottage so full of five generations of family.

Maybe it is the easy laughter, the in-jokes, the release of being undefined by husbands and children. Maybe it was the August snow and full arched rainbow in the middle of the drive home and yesterdays storms.

I feel renewed. And yet, already counting down the days until WTHS 2009...

Calling it like it is

Lauren: "You can't ride two riding toys at once, Lindsay. You only have one butt."

***

Lindsay: "No pizza bagel. No wan that! Ew. Bagel has cream cheese. No pizza."

***

Epiphany: "How about I put on your new sneakers?"
Lindsay: "How about not?"

***

Swear word goes here

My cats have fleas.

My toddler has borderline iron.

Today wasn't fun.

I just spent a small fortune in flea repellent, shampoo, spray, combs, and extermination.

Dr Google says iron deficiency is bad.

Craptastic.

Among life's great mysteries

Lindsay had a doctor's appointment about a week and a half ago. I don't know if it's a Jersey thing or a living in a very old house thing, but we were given a script to go to the lab and repeat her blood work from last year - CBC and lead.

When we sat down to do paperwork, the technician looked in horror at Lindsay's skinny arms. "It's for the baby? Oh no."

"She'll be fine." I replied brightly. "She didn't even notice last year."

She looked doubtful, but didn't reply.

As we sat in the scary looking blood drawing chair, Lindsay held her arm out and let the tech tie on the tourniquet. The tech's hands were shaking.

"They are just going to take a little blood out of your arm, Linds." I said calmly, as I held across her chest, pinning her right arm beside her. "And Mommy's giving you a special hug to help you keep still."

A second tech was there with the butterfly, sliding around the first who held Lin's arm taut. Lindsay watched, completely fascinated, as the needle pierced her skin. The second tech spoke quietly about the three tubes to the first, dropping each in her pocket as they filled. The first tech's hand was still now, looking at Lindsay's interested expression.

"I've never seen anything like that," she exclaimed.

"She doesn't mind needles." I replied.

The second tech stuck a purple sticker on Lindsay's shirt that read "I did very whale" with a cartoon whale on it.

"Tanks." Lindsay said.

A few days late, a few dollars short

We were in Atlanta last weekend - landed Friday afternoon and took off Sunday afternoon. We decided, in the tradition we started in San Diego, to end our first night with a trip to the local ballpark. It was a 7:30 PM first pitch with fireworks afterwards...

Turner is a nice park, and our seats were pretty good considering this was last-minute. We were behind home plate on the first mezzanine. It was a nice evening - about 80 degrees still when the sun set.

The girls were hella-tired. I'd forgotten Lindsay's blanket in the hotel room, which meant she couldn't nap in her stroller (she might not have anyway, but we would've had a better shot with blanket). I took Dad's approach of snack every 2 innings, and I have no idea if he was using it as a diversion technique, but it is an awesome one. Hot dogs in the 2nd inning, cotton candy in the 4th, and ice cream after the seventh-inning-stretch got us all the way to the fireworks...

...which were a lot more spectacular than I managed to capture. It really was an awesome 20 minute display and neither of my kids minded the big booms. What I didn't know about Atlanta was that the traffic is terrible. We spent an hour driving back to our hotel, which was only 4 miles away. We did the Walk-of-Shame you may have read about on Worst Mama.

We got up and had breakfast with Alec before he had to go to his conference, which was what he was there to do. We were there to spend time with our friends. I took the massive SUV we rented (alright, it was a Toyota Rav 4, which is a bit bigger than my Mazda 5) and drove out to Decatur to meet Jeremiah, Sarah, and Kate at the gazebo.

Sarah and Lindsay eyed each other. If they were dogs, this is where the sniffing would've started. Sarah said, "Hi, Baby" through her pacifier at Lindsay. Lindsay responded with a little wave. Kate and Lauren were instantly thick as thieves. They discussed relationships: "Where's your dad?" "He's at work." "What's his name?" "Alec." "My dad's name is Jeremiah." As well as their mutual admiration for Disney princesses. "So your favorite princess is Aurora? Mine is Snow White."

We went back to their house and met Lisa, with her brand new hair. The children played. We caught up. There were pork sandwiches with fried lemon (OMG! so good). Lisa and I tucked Sarah and Lindsay for naps and walked with the big girls to the Oakhurst Community Garden. Lisa blogged about the garden here, if you haven't seen it already - I didn't take pictures there for some reason. When the little girls woke up, we all went to the McKoy Park Pool.

Jeremiah playing with Lindsay. I think she's feeding him a toy. She thought he was hilarious, and just couldn't get his name right, so she just kept calling him "SarahDad". She called Lisa "Weesa".

Sarah and Lindsay

Lauren has some serious skills now she's taken some swimming lessons. She shows Lisa how long she can hold her breath underwater in this picture. Considering she wouldn't go IN the water at the beginning of the summer, this is a huge accomplishment.

Sarah plays in the fountain.

Lisa whipped up some smoothies for the girls for dinner, and Jeremiah got to work on some beef tenderloin.

"My kids need to go to sleep, "Lisa said. "Maybe we can put them all to bed and enjoy our dinner?"

And so, we did. Dinner was some serious meat candy. We enjoyed some wine and dark chocolate with rock salt for dessert. Lisa and Jeremiah helped get sleeping girls in the car and I headed back to the hotel.

On Sunday, we went to see the aquarium, and Alec finally was done with his conference. We met there around 9 AM, sharing sleepy expressions - Sarah had kept Lisa and Jeremiah up most of the night, and we just didn't sleep very well on the lumpy mattress at the hotel. The best thing was this giant tank:

My pictures from the aquarium were the worst of all. That's Kate and Lindsay looking into the giant tank. We saw the performingest octopus ever - usually you get to see a tentacle or two, but this guy was hanging out and actually swam across the tank. After the aquarium, we headed back to Lisa and Jeremiah's for lunch, and then had to make our way to the airport.

Atlanta - awesome. I chat with Lisa most days, so it was really cool to see her in person, and even better that our kids got along.

A quickie from moi

If I hear any more ABBA today, I think my ears are going to start bleeding. I. HATE. ABBA.

Off to Atlanta!

See you on Monday!

Things that made me laugh today

Why is it when I order pb&j sandwiches they come with enough of each to ooze out the sides and not cut in half? Who do sandwich makers think are eating these sandwiches? Today's version was on a pita which Lindsay kept calling "my pancake". Yum.

I sort children's clothes at our church's thrift shop on Tuesdays. It always seems like a daunting amount of work, and then it is so satisfying 2 hours later when the racks are all nicely organized. Today, I perked up when I heard Kathy say, "Oh what a nice size 1x jacket from Ashley Stewart!" "May I see it?" "Oh my gosh, you're not a 1x!" "Yes, I am. Ohhh. It is nice. I'm taking that today!" It was new, though without tags...and Lois charged me a dollar! I also bought a pair of never worn Dora boots in black "suede" for Lindsay for 50 cents.

Photographic evidence for Karen's thumb sucking and handedness experiment

Lauren has a Princess diary she's been writing in this summer. I figured it was a good way for her to practice writing without it seeming like an assignment. Of course, since Lindsay has to do everything Lauren does, she is "writing" in a book also.

Karen, Lindsay's handedness would appear not to support your theory. She always colors with her right hand, and yet she only sucks her left thumb. Alec is left handed, and I am right handed. Lauren is right handed.

Bittersweet

I had never felt so alone - and, yet, so connected to God - in the face of so much uncertainty.

Paige wrote about the anniversary of finding out Zane was on the way a few days ago. It's a great post about discovering your path to parenthood.

It was three years ago today I found myself in the emergency room with a ruptured left fallopian tube. Although my parents and my husband were there when I came out of surgery, I was with Nanny during the intake, tests, meeting the surgeon and all the things leading up to it. I was in the moment of all of my worst fears, and yet I was calm. At one point, she said, "Everyone is moving very slowly here." And I said, "I know. It means I am not dying. If I weren't OK, everyone would be moving very fast..."

As I was being wheeled into the operating room, I looked up to see the anesthesiologist. The surgeon was joking with the nursing staff about just needing a few tools, listing them, and then he said, "I'm pretty easy" which was met with some giggles. "Is it good to have an easy surgeon?" I asked studying his face.

"He's the best." replied the anesthesiologist.

Right before I was put under, I touched the sleeve of the surgeon.

He was saying something silly, but I don't recall what it was.

I said, "I know you're trying to put me at ease by joking, but I really need you to say, 'Everything is going to be okay, Heather'."

His eyebrows broadened as he smiled under his mask. "Everything is going to be okay, Heather."

And it was okay. It wasn't good. But I walked away from that with a different appreciation about what I wanted from life, and although that's on the short lists of worst days of my life, it was...okay.

The girls

Lindsay and Lauren, July 2008

No, I have no idea why Lindsay is making a Gene Simmons face. I am pretty sure she doesn't know who he is. To further complete your morning:

"Hey, Lindsay, I have something to show you."

"I coming. I coming." Lindsay climbs down the stairs. "Wassamatta?"

"Nothing, I wanted to show you something."

"Oh! Hewwo, Lawwen."

"Hi, Linds."

Coolness

My discovery of the week is many great beverage reuses for a peanut jar. I have been making cold-brewed iced coffee in it, but who knew you could also make a super-concentrated cold-brewed iced tea? It means I can use pretty much any tea to make iced tea, not just the ones in the flat teabags.

Last night, after I finished my dinner of grilled salmon, squash with pesto, and couscous, I piled my plate high with the locally grown organic red leaf lettuce. I had some Annie's Sesame Dressing on it. Mmm mmm. Lauren eyed my plate.

"Do you want some?"

"Maybe just to try?"

I put two leaves and a good amount of dressing on her plate for dipping."

"Hey, that's pretty good."

Yeah it is!

Fourth of July Weekend

It always amazes me how a 4-day weekend always turns into a fun yet exhausting marathon of barbecues and fireworks. Thursday was spent on a quest to replace Alec's linen sports coat, which somehow ended up in the washing machine. Since all of the department stores have had their summer clothes on sale for a month now, it was a challenge. We found a suitable replacement at the 4th store, considered ourselves lucky, and headed to the pool.

Friday was an overcast day here. We made some salads to go along with dinner, and I made a fruit crisp (this one was peach and blueberry, and very good) but mostly Alec played X-Box and Lauren supervised. Since one of our dinner guests is 3, our party broke up before 9, and we decided since we were heading up to Dad's the next day where we'd probably see fireworks that we'd forgo the local ones and get the kids to bed at a somewhat reasonable hour.

Saturday, we had a great time at Dad's, although I expected it would just be the four of us, Dad, Ben and Maria, my grandparents were both there along with Aunt Diane and her girlfriend Bevvy. Except for a minor poisoning incident, we all had a great time and even managed to see the fireworks in Hartford.

Yesterday, we visited some friends in Westport on our way home. The drive wasn't too terrible once we abandoned I-95 for the Merritt Parkway, except for the stretch of the Hutch in Harrison that's always bad.

I have quite a lot of laundry to do, though our house isn't too bad since we mostly were just home on Friday. Lauren has declared it a "jammies all day day", so it would seem I'm not the only one feeling a bit tired after the weekend.

All you thirty-something blonde mommies are interchangable

Scene: Church hallway after children's choir practice. JANE finishes getting a drink at the water fountain and is startled to see EPIPHANY standing with her two daughters.

JANE: Oh, hi!

EPIPHANY: Hi, Jane. How are you?

JANE: I'm fine. It's Shannon, right?

EPIPHANY: No, it's Epiphany. I can see why you thought that, though. We're about the same height, with short blonde hair and glasses and have little kids. Shannon has three children.

JANE: Oh, right, she has two boys and the baby?

EPIPHANY: Yes, Charlie and...I don't remember the middle one's name.

JANE: I think the baby's name is Brianna.

EPIPHANY: That's nice.

JANE: What are your daughter's names again?

EPIPHANY: Lauren and Lindsay. Lauren is 5 1/2 and Lindsay is 2.

JANE: Nice. Do you go by Jessie or Jessica?

EPIPHANY: Neither. My name is Epiphany.

JANE: Oh...I'm so sorry.

EPIPHANY: Jessie is also blonde, sometimes wears glasses, and has a 3-year-old son.

JANE: Um, I have to go now.

Snippets from my life

Lindsay peed on the bathroom floor upon exiting the bathtub. She stopped, midstream, and looked surprised at herself.

"Lindsay, do you want to make a pee pee in the potty?" I asked, hopefully.

"No," she replied tersely, squatting on the towel wrapped around her. "I'm finished now."

***

"I saw a diary today that had princesses on it. They even had princess pencils. We could get that for you and you could practice writing write down your thoughts."

"I don't have any thoughts. When I close my eyes all I see are blue squares mostly. Occasionally rectangles. They are blue also."

Having her cake (and eating it too)

Happy birthday, Lindsay

Lindsay Alexandra Stoll, 5/21/2006

This is Lindsay's birth story, which you may opt not to read. I wrote it in an email to a friend a few days after Lindsay was born.

At 8 PM Saturday evening, I went into the hospital having contractions every 2-5 minutes, but since there was not an unbearable amount of pain, I fully expected to be evaluated and sent home. Since I was 36 weeks, 6 days, I was sent to the Preterm Evaluation Treatment Unit where they monitored my contractions and blood pressure for 3 hours. At 11 PM, the resident OB said I had progressed from 60 to 90% effacement and 3 to 4 cm, and was waiting for instruction from my doctor. He arrived a few minutes later, and said that my blood pressure had climbed to 150 over 85, and my platelet count was low (edited to add: I had preeclampsia with my pregnancy with Lauren and was put on magnesium sulfate because my OB was concerned my blood pressure had climbed so high I would have a seizure.) He said "I think you're ready to be done with this, and really, I'd rather move things along too". I nodded emphatically.

We were then moved to an L&D room. Doc came in around 12:30 AM and said that he was going to break my bag of waters to move things along, and if that didn't help, we'd start pitocen. I let my nurse know I was DEFINITELY going to want an epidural, and if we started the pitocen, I wanted the epi first. About an hour later, between various animal noises (mostly mooing) of pain, I asked for the epidural, was found to be at 5 cm, and pit was started a few minutes after the anesthesiologist administered the epi. I instantly felt better.

Around 5:45, Doc checked me and said I was 9 1/2 cm dialated and I should let him know when I was ready to push. I don't know if this was because I knew I was still at station -1 when last checked, but I really felt the baby dropping rapidly at this point. When I called everyone back in at 6:50, my doc said I was fully dialated, at +3, and that this was going to go really fast once I started pushing. Lindsay was born at 7:11, kicking and screaming, was weighed in at 6 lbs 9 oz and measured 19 inches.

My note continues about my struggles with breastfeeding, and how awed I was that Lindsay would sleep 4 hours at a stretch at only a few days old. When people with toddlers talk about sleep, I am always apologetic because for the most part, Lindsay goes to bed at 8 PM and we don't hear from her until 6:30 or 7 AM. She still takes almost a 3 hour nap every afternoon. I explain that there's nothing I've done special to foster this, she sleeps because she likes to sleep.

A little tear

"Your Birthday Girl pin that Auntie Jules gave you is out on your bureau."

"Yeah. I thought my sister might want to wear it on Wednesday, and I didn't want to forget so I put it out early."

Ohhh. "That was good thinking."

"I figured since she was going to be 2, she could probably take care of it for me."

You saw it here first

Yippee ki yay

Both girls wore pink cowboy boots today, so the title seems apt.

I went shopping for Lauren yesterday since she suddenly outgrew all her size 4 shirts last week. Have I mentioned lately how I heart The Children's Place Outlet? I spent $118 and bought 6 t-shirts, 2 tank tops, 2 pairs of shorts, 2 skirts, a bucket hat, 6 pairs of socks and 2 jammies for Lindsay. I wouldn't have done that well at Target and the clothes wouldn't have held up for hand-me-downs. And everything is mix-and-match in bright orange, pink, and deep purple.

I am trying to get motivated to go to yoga this morning, after not having been to the gym since before we went on vacation. I am really suffering with allergies today, and I can't take anything for them because the side effects are worse than the untreated symptoms for me. Yoga after a few weeks' break is always difficult, but I really need to get gym time back into my routine and find a balance with that and outdoor exercise because on days like today I think, "Oh, I just want to walk outside". I'm also anticipating a huge Lindsay fit at the sitter because she's no longer accustomed to it. Fun stuff.

With no end in sight

"Come on. Wan cracker peas."

"Oh, you want a cracker? Let's go to the kitchen!"

"Yes! Come on, Mama!" She stops in front of the microwave. "Wan banana peas."

"You want a banana? Oh ok." I hand her the peeled banana.

"San queue. An cracker too."

"Bananas and crackers?" I remove a whole graham cracker and break it into two bits. "Here you go, monkey."

"Yes, yes, yes." She sings, bending her knees and bouncing.

While I was excited to see that the district is planning paid whole day Pre-K next year, Alec let me know this morning that it says, "This may be the last year we offer free half-day pre-K." I started grumbling because I'd have to work in order to afford that, and the program is 2 1/2 hours a day, making it impossible to work. Somehow knowing there was available albeit for pay full day Pre-K and then all day kindergarten after that put the end in sight for me 2 1/2 years from now.

I love being home with the kids, and I find it hard and tedious. There are plenty of days I wish I could escape to a desk and grown-up conversation that doesn't involve milestones and sleep methods. I am trying to be enthusiastic about the upcoming summer, but really I don't know how I will cope without my 2-hour breaks in the afternoon where I can actually get laundry done uninterrupted.

Maybe my attitude is just about its Monday and my house, as it is on Mondays, is completely trashed and there are 4 loads of laundry and unmade beds, and all I want to do is go back to sleep.

Some photos

Today as the not-so-little girl walked in front of me with her long legs in pink cowboy boots (props to Karen) I realized with a twinge of sadness that our days of holding hands walking on the sidewalk were over, as her cool palm and long slender fingers slid out of my own. There are still things that remind me of that adorable 3-year-old obsessed with all things pink: the coat, the princess backpack, and the aforementioned boots, but at 5 1/2, her vernacular is rid of toddler words and mixed tenses. In a few short weeks, she will be done with Kindergarten and off to the wilds of numbered grades.
Lindsay sports her new backpack and sun hat. It occurred to me that if I bought her a yellow hat, she might actually wear it unlike her sister's handed down pink hat which periodically gets thrown out of the stroller. Her monkey backpack is a restraint system. Yes, a toddler leash. Lindsay is far more interested in walking at nearly 2 than Lauren, and too young to understand that running at the street is unsafe. I didn't think I'd leash my kid, but then, by the time Lauren walked she was old enough to reason. She was super cooperative today at Target and sat still while I checked out with the promise of a shortbread cookie from Starbucks. She even walked up the stairs nicely to have a story before nap time. "You can choose the story." "Okay, Mommy."

My best early Mother's Day present from Lauren's All About Me workbook:

When I grow up...

I am going to be a mom.

A sentence about my family...

I love my mom!

All things yellow

Alec: I think Lindsay has a favorite color.

Heather: She is a little obsessed with all things yellow.

Alec: I noticed. I think we know what we have to get for her birthday.

Heather: [...]

Alec: Something yellow?

Ridiculous conversations

"What if Mother's Day were like Christmas and if you were bad you got a bag of coal?"

"It would be like, score - heating for a month! - and damn, better luck next year."

"Dear son, Thank you for your Mother's Day present, and sorry I suck. Love, your mom."

"I wonder if Hallmark makes that card."

Learning new things every day

Lindsay recently learned her colors. She is about 80% naming what you indicate, sometimes I think she tells you what color she would like it to be. She also has learned to ask for 2 of something. "Do you want a cracker?" "No. I want 2 crackers."

Because 2 crackers is better. Or we need one for each hand. I don't know. It seems her answer to everything is "No" even when it's yes because of some other attached instruction.

"Pick fower."

"The pink one?"

"No, lellow fower."

"This yellow one?"

"No. Two lellow fower. Lion an that one."

It took a while to determine "That one" was a buttercup. Not 2 dandelions. At playgroup, we had about a half dozen tantrums and exercised the word "Mine" a lot. "My fiiiitruck. Mine!" It had been a while since I'd been - and I was sort of pleased to hear they are planning to change the day of the week for fall, so that Lindsay and I won't have to skip yoga to go like we did this morning.

Oh my word

"Chickens are oviparous," Lauren explained to her sister.

"They are what?" I asked.

"Oviparous."

"What does that mean?"

"It means hatched from an egg."

My mouth forms a round "Oh" rather like an egg. I Google to confirm. Yep. My daughter is officially smarter than me. Or is that I?

I have baked more these past few days than I can remember. Pizza? Oh my word so good with some olive oil, fresh garlic, and minced clams. Brownies? Why did we get convinced that it was hard to make them? It took 2 minutes to throw together a perfect medium between fudgy and cake-like. Our freezer holds 2 loaves of frozen bread, a gallon ziplock full of french toast for quick breakfast, and tonight's addition - curried lentils with cauliflower and sweet potato. I made another double batch of gelato. The only failed experiment was the oatmeal bars stuck to the Pyrex. Tonight I made fruit and nut bars with strawberry jam and almonds. I have three dinners in my fridge, so I will actually have a night off from cooking tomorrow.

If Lindsay uses the word oviparous even in her typical three-word sentences, I probably will run screaming into the night.

Leapin Lauren

Balancing things out today.

Lauren's casual reading has improved a lot in the past few weeks. She reads practically everything these days. When we were leaving the shore, an old lady in the neighborhood gave both girls prayer cards. Lauren has been reading hers every time she gets into the car and brought it to children's choir to show the pastors. She loves choir, and is easily the loudest singer even though she's one of the youngest there. She remembers the lyrics quickly, and spends time during the week singing her favorite songs. She particularly likes singing about Jesus.

Lauren is completely rigid about certain things. She had wanted to buy lunch this week because they were having hot dogs. At the last moment, she changed her mind and got a deli sandwich instead because she realized the aid was going to put ketchup on top of her hot dog, and she prefers it on the roll.

Big little girl

Upon returning from vacation, I had to put away all of Lindsay's 18 months clothes because her t-shirts were too tight and her leggings were becoming capri pants. I bought a few things at one of the children's clothing outlets nearby the shore, alarmed that we were going into a new season with a mere half dozen items of clothing. I moved the 24 months/2 toddler clothes from the basement, and was delighted to see that Lauren's hand-me-downs were more than adequate for two or three kids. Lindsay is enjoying her "new" clothes.

Two weeks ago we began teaching Lindsay her colors. Before we left for vacation, the only color she consistently named was pink. It sort of figures, since most of her clothes are pink. Today, she was sorting Lauren's color-coded word building blocks by color. She named all the colors when asked. At the library, we played with a wooden Noah's arc toy, and she named and made sounds for all the animals. She was also pretending to pour the contents of a cup into a pan when playing with the library's play kitchen. She stirred the imaginary contents in the pan with a spatula.

We've regressed a bit in terms of meals, and she's back to grazing and then refusing to sit for and eat a formal meal. Lindsay threw a tantrum today that lasted 20 minutes over not getting to sit in my lap to eat lunch.

She refused to wear shoes today, and since we were just running errands around town while she sat in the stroller this morning, and at church for children's choir, she went without. She complained that she wanted to play with the kids on our pastors' daughters' swing set, and I told her she could, but she needed to let me put on her sneakers.

"No wan seekers."

"Ok. Then you can't play on the swing."

"Wan swing."

She didn't have a tantrum, but she argued with me the entire fifteen minutes that we were there.

Monday after vacation

We got home yesterday from down the shore. What a beautiful week! We had a great time staying with our friends. We rode bikes on the boardwalk, flew kites and made sandcastles on the beach. We enjoyed some great barbecue, a couple really nice restaurants, and even made lobster and steamers one night. It was exactly the sort of beach holiday that would be framed warmly in my mind as a kid, and Lauren had an absolute ball. Well, Lindsay did also, but she won't remember.

Mondays are always tough. But today with a touch of a cold I brought back from the beach, rainy weather, and way too much to do around the house I am feeling less-than-motivated. I keep jotting tasks down on a post-it. It seems I will have to tear myself away from the computer to get them done...

Lauren's eye view

These were taken with Lauren's camera. Incidentally, if you take out a camera and point it at Lindsay, she now says cheese.



No one likes to be woken up to someone taking their picture...

Sometimes

Lindsay has been running a fever since last night's bedtime, so I missed Lauren's spring concert today, and had to cancel her planned play date - and refuse her friends who invited her over. I made a hot dog with rice and beans, hoping this might begin the distraction from all the fun things she wasn't able to do today because sister was sick.

We kicked off Lauren's early dismissal before spring break with a little home mani-pedi. I went upstairs and brought down the shades of pink, some of the top-shelf hotel cream, and a towel.

"Can I pick a different pink for my toes and fingers?"

"Sure. I like them to match, but you can have yours however you like."

She selected petal pink for her toes and fuschia for her fingers.

She waited as patiently as she could manage for the ten minutes or so it takes the "sets in 60 seconds" colors to dry, and wound up with very tidy-looking nails, sans the little flower designs they do in the salon, but pretty none the less.

We spent the rest of the afternoon painting, coloring, cutting, and pasting. We made a morning routine reminder list with pictures. We painted a little wooden birdhouse wind chime purple and pink.

"The assembly was boring, Mom," she said softly, "it was OK that you missed that one."

"I'm sorry I missed you singing." I replied. "We'll go next time."

"Ok," she replied, busily drawing a castle for her princess.

Baptism

I'm getting baptized tomorrow. Here's the play-by-play:

For Heather, who was not baptized as a child, today is a day for you to receive the sign of God’s unconditional “yes, I love you,” and to celebrate that while the sign is coming at this moment of your life, God really baptized you with God’s loving Spirit long ago. God has been with you since the beginning.

Heather, I ask you to please come to the font.

Heather, it was for you that Jesus Christ came into the world. For you he died and for you he conquered death; yes for you, Heather. We love because God first loved us.

Heather, I baptize you in the name of the Father, and of the Son, and of the Holy Spirit. Amen.

This is my testimony:

I don’t know how long I had said, “I need to get closer to God but I don’t know how.” I worried that when my daughters were old enough to ask questions about faith, I wouldn’t how to answer them.

The day Lauren came home from school and said, “I want to go to church.” I said, “Sure, we’ll go on Sunday.”

I thought I was bringing her here. I see now that Lauren brought me here because I needed to be here. God is great!

At 22 months

Lauren, June 2004

Lindsay, March 2008

Answers to your most pressing questions

The salad that went along with Easter dinner was leafy organic hydroponic greens with shaved parmiggiano, red bell pepper, pine nuts, and vinaigrette.

The frog rain boots actually belong to Lauren. Lindsay wore them for the Official Easter Photo. The Easter dresses were purchased and worn for Tim's wedding, which was June 2. As you might surmise from the photographs, they were both a bit too large then. Lauren's sweater was purchased to wear over the dress for my step-brother-in-law's wedding (though it was late July, she did not wear it then) and Lindsay's is a hand-me-down.

They are particularly hard to balance in when on the wrong feet.

The "cigar" was a wooden screw from Lauren's toolbox.

Happy Easter

Too tired to caption this

I'll let you ponder the sunglasses on her head, shot glass, and "cigar". A round of Lindsay Lohan meets the paparazzi, anyone?

Reflecting at different places in my life

Toddler Lauren plays with a phone:

(shouts) What?! Oh, you've KILLING me! I can't BELIEVE it!

...she finishes the call by slamming the phone down hard.

Toddler Lindsay plays with a phone:

(sweetly) Hel-lo? Yes, ok! Buh-bye!

Messing with Mama

I've been trying to teach Lindsay the stuff that we teach the under 2 set: how to sing the alphabet, count to 10, and animal sounds. Her letter singing improves each week and comes closer to sounding like individual letters. She actually can count to 13 or 14, depending on her mood, if you disregard 4, because she always skips it. But whenever you ask her what sound a given animal makes, she will say "Moo".

Today in the car, I noticed that she was playing a game. It took me a couple of rounds to realize it was "What does ____ say?" She said: "What does bird say? Tweet tweet! What does monkey say? Hoo hoo hee hee! What does lion say? Rarrrgh!"

"Wow, Lindsay! That's great!" I exclaimed, genuinely surprised. "What does the kitty say?"

She caught my eye in the rear view mirror and replied flatly, "Moo."

This kid is messing with me.

Sadly, there are things even Sybil can't fix

Lauren fell on the playground yesterday. She had worn black tights to school under her skirt, and when she skinned her knee, she ripped a hole in the knee. The school nurse had bandaged her knee. Sticking through the rather large hole was her pale knee covered by an almost comically large institutional bandage.

At bath time, as she was getting undressed, I said, "You can go ahead and throw the ripped tights in the garbage."

She pulled a pouty face. "They can't be sewn?"

I replied, "No, it just won't work out. I'm sorry. We'll have to buy you a new pair of black tights."

"But Mama, maybe you can't sew them...but surely my auntie can. She can sew anything!"

"Your auntie?" I struggled with whether she was referring to my sister or my sister-in-law. They both have artistic flair, but sewing? Doubtful.

"My auntie who sewed* Lindsay's bear."

"Ohhh...Auntie Sybil."

"Yes! Sybil can fix anything! Can we save them until we see her again?"

"I think not, but it was a good idea, Lo."


*[SIC] Bear is knit.