There's a partridge in my pear tree.

Wednesday, December 19, 2007
And I think I like it. Only 1 more day of work in 2007!

Conversation on the way to Betty's house this morning:
Jo: "Eve is my baby sister."
Me: "Well, yes, Jo... she is your baby sister."
Jo: "And I'm going to have a new baby sister."
Me: "Oh. Really?"
Jo: "Yes. At Christmas. A Christmas Eve."

I don't know with how many people she has shared this exciting news. But again, I'm setting the record straight right here and now. No new baby sister (or brother, for that matter) for Josie. And apparently we're going to have to find a different name for Christmas Eve.

Seeing that this may be the last chance I have to post in a while - I'll throw a coupla Merry Christmas greetings and Happy New Year good tidings at ya. Now duck.

Spittin' Images.

Monday, December 17, 2007


I knew it!! I always saw Barack and thought - WOW! We must have been separated at birth!!

Thanks for the fun idea, Meg. :)

The fog has lifted.

Or maybe the caffeine finally kicked in.

Okay - I'm out of my Monday morning funk. And now it's lunchtime! Not too shabby.

I'm sure as in most households with small children this time of year, we've been discussing the upcoming holiday. A lot. Everything from presents, to baby "Cheesus," to Santa and the "boots" hanging on our fireplace. Jo and I were snuggling on the couch after she got up from a nap. We were looking at our pretty tree, with the sparkly candy cane ornaments that I made many many moons ago, and which Josie helped me hang. As you can imagine, there is a large concentration of candy canes in one area on the lower portion of the tree. The conversation turned to Santa, and I was talking about how he's going to come to our house, down the chimney and leave a present for each of the girls on Christmas Eve.

I could see the wheels turning. She turned to me as she processed, and said, "So... Mommy, we're going to get another baby sister Eve this year?"

Whoa. So not where I expected this conversation to go. And no - in case you're wondering, there will NOT be another baby arriving any time soon. :)

It's been fascinating to see her comprehension and decision-making skills develop. She's growing so fast and understands so much and can communicate so well. Of course, have a lot of frustrating bouts of the "whys," but to see her really get something and ask appropriate questions has been amazing.

Patrick's parents came over on Saturday to just hang out for a bit, and ended up staying for dinner with us. This exciting event came the very next day after a much celebrated impromptu playdate with Lucy and Eddie, so Josie was in a very happy place. Her little mouth never stopped from the time Gramma and Grampa walked in the door until well after they left. At one point, she was "making boffee" for Gramma after dinner. Gramma asked her if Grampa could have some, too. She tilted her head and held up her hands and said, "Well, no - there's no cup for you."

She has also just recently started to actually sit and watch movies. She has always watched snippets of tv shows, and bits of movies, but would never sit and really watch for very long before she was off to something better. Eve, on the other hand, is a movie and tv freak - especially anything with Elmo in it. Not necessarily a good thing, but it sure does come in handy once in a while. You know - like when I'm trying to clean something, or maybe poop without an audience - that kind of stuff. Anyway - my point in all of this is that now we're really noticing how limited our kid movie selection is. Gotta add that to the garage sale list for next spring. Jo's favorite right now is "Milo and Otis." I think she watched the entire thing about 3 times this weekend. That's 3 times too many for me. The pug dog and orange cat with British accents are a bit much after a while. Pat's a lot more patient with that sort of thing than I am. Well, I guess he's probably a lot more patient with a lot of things than I am, but that's a whole 'nother topic.

So there. That was a much more satisfying ramble. More later!

Insert theme music from "Jeopardy" here.

Ok.

So I've been trying to think of something clever to write. Some cute thing Evie did over the weekend, something funny Josie said... anything.

I'm drawing a blank. Guess it's just not meant to be right now.

Maybe it's all the mucous in my brain. I'm feeling a bit slow.

We had a... nice... weekend. Shopping is pretty much done, tree is decorated, gifts are stacked in the basement, patiently awaiting wrapping paper.

Told ya. Nada. I'll check in later when I can think properly. Happy Monday! Only 3 more work days in 2007! :)

Heads between their Legs

Wednesday, December 12, 2007
A member of the Minnesota Wild made some reference to their crappy performances lately, and the fact that when they start losing, the team members tuck their heads between their legs... etc... and I'm pretty sure he meant to say tucks their tails between their legs - but I'm very grateful to him today, because that really creates one kick-ass mental picture.

Josie is a flasher. Sure, you say, just imagine the riches of beads you'll have someday after she visits New Orleans. So we've got that going for us. But seriously - we can't turn around lately without her bare cheeks looking at us, and Jo saying, "Mommy. Look at my butt."

Then Eve giggles and walks up to her and with this evil little voice says "tickle, tickle" and does exactly that to Jo's bare buns.

We have a Christmas tree. It has no decorations, but I figure we're doing good by at least having the tree in the house. I had a hard time getting a real tree this year. Our nice cat, Buford- rest his sweet little soul - used to love with every ounce of his furry little being having an honest to goodness piece of the actual outdoors in our living room. From the moment we dragged the tree into the house, until the moment we dragged it out again, you could find Buford happily curled up on the tree skirt, purring like there was no tomorrow. Not to mention that he had a bit of an obsession with fresh water, and would carefully watch our every move as we filled up a container of water and sloshed it through the house on the way to the tree stand. Then he'd happily lap away, as if we'd finally understood that this was the way things were supposed to be. One year when we lived in an apartment in downtown St. Paul and had an illegal real tree for Christmas, we were bagging up the violation and figuring out how we were going to cram it down the garbage chute without getting busted when I noticed a large bulge in the bag as Pat dragged it across the living room towards the door. Sure enough, there was Buford, in the bag with the tree, in a weak little effort to save his needly friend.

Our holiday shopping is underway. The annual cookie bake is done. Santa hasn't been visited, yet, but perhaps that will be added to this weekend's ever-growing agenda.

Funny how all it takes to make me happy is a Mint Mocha, and for someone else (who shall remain nameless, but whose name starts with P and ends with T and married me - hey. That rhymes.) happiness is watching a car's odometer turn over to 100,000 miles. That miraculous event happened in our super-cool '95 Ford Taurus on the way to work this morning. Good thing there weren't any peds in our way, because there was NO WAY he was missing it. And now I'm going to have to hear about it for the next 4 months. Seriously. Because he missed it in like 3 other vehicles he's owned, and I haven't stopped hearing about that, either. (I love you, anyway, honey.) You'd think we saw a celebrity on the streets of St. Paul. Or even better, a Wild player with his head between his legs.

Odds and Ends

Wednesday, December 05, 2007
Oh. So I think I forgot to mention that I got a promotion at work. Yea me. I get to stay in a place I like, with people I like... permanently, and still part-time, to boot. No more Milton for me.

Then there's nothing like accepting a "new" job, and turning around to your "new" supervisor and telling her all the time off that you plan on taking in December. :) I have never ever ever in my long-legged life had any substantial time left to take off at the end of the year. I'm beside myself with excitement - I have off every Thursday (and Friday, of course,) the entire week of Christmas and New Year's Eve day, if I so desire. Color me happy, there's a sofa in here for two!! Would you look at that... if I do take those days off, that means I only work 6 more days in December. hee hee hee hee hee...

Coupla Josie-isms I want to get down before I forget:

The other night we were going outside to play in the snow. It's a process. Sometime during the preparation we decided that they should actually put their snowpants on in case they "went off the beaten path." Jo picked up on that one and kept saying that she was ready to "go off the beat path." She wouldn't drop it, and was getting a little frantic when we weren't ready yet. So I told her that we were just going out in the yard to play, and that "the beaten path" was merely a figure of speech. So then she said that she wanted to go out and play in the "figure beach." I just can't win.

Everything in Jo's life can be negotiated right now. Give her a cookie, and she wants "just one more." Give her a piggy-back ride, and she wants to do it "just one more time." Give her a little bit of yogurt and she wants "lots." And when she's asking for "just one more..." of whatever, she says it real slow-like, with her chubby little index finger up in front of her face.

She recently started to flip-flop words around... like the ball pit at the indoor playground is now the "pit ball." Her Elmo backpack is her "packback." You get the picture.

She's got a memory, and she's not afraid to use it. Most of her convos start with the phrase " 'Member when..." then she regales us with stories of the time that Eve ripped off her band-aid in the bathtub, Baxter tried to bite her or we rode in the "Gunos" van (that's the Gronaus, to the rest of us.) on the way to the playground.

Baby Parts

Tuesday, December 04, 2007
The following phrases would have been heard by a fly on the wall in our house last night, or maybe more appropriately, by a mouse in the basement:

"Brewster loves me. Does Brewster have a back?"

"Daddy has boy parts. Mommy has girl parts. I have girl parts. Evie has baby parts!"

"Ooop? Ooop?" Evie runs from wherever she is in the house when she hears the toilet flush. She points and assumes that any activity in that room is poop-related.

"Dance! Dance! Dance!" It's a command more than an exclamation. Evie also runs from wherever she is in the house when she hears any sort of music on tv or the radio.

"Eve just put her french fry on the toilet seat."

"Mommmmmmy - I awake a little bit."
"Daddddddddddy - my fingernail is long."
"Mommmmmmy - there's too many books."
"Daddddddddddy - my arm hurts right here."
Josie used to be our rock, our reliable bedtime girl. She now realizes that life goes on after she goes to bed. There have been some rough, late nights with her the past couple of weeks as we try to convince her that it really is time to go to sleep. These are just a sampling of what we hear from her room after we've tucked her in.

Moo Moo Here Moo Moo There

Monday, December 03, 2007
I've been known to overexaggerate from time to time. No, really - I'm serious. But this time, I have witnesses. On the way to daycare this morning, Eve was singing "Old MacDonald." Sure - she's not ready for American Idol (although she was more in tune than Sanjaya,) but she was distinctly singing "E-I-E-I-O," and "moo moo here, moo moo there." My kids are geniuses. That goes without saying, of course, but it just feels so darn good, I had to see it in print.

All this singing occurred right before she took her boots off on the ridiculously long 6-minute car ride to daycare. Seriously. Nothing drives me battier than having to re-dress them in winter gear after I've JUST DRESSED THEM IN THEIR WINTER GEAR. But the boots are the bane of Eve's existence. Right after the mittens. And the hat. We put her boots on her for the first time last night before going out to shovel the walk, and you'd think that we cast her precious little feet in cement and asked her to run the Boston Marathon. This morning after the Evil Boots tripped her, she rolled herself to her back on the kitchen floor and laid there, fully dressed in outerwear, arms and legs splayed, as if to say, "this is it. I give up."

It's going to be a long winter.

Although Jo is getting more and more imaginative, so that's been really fun to watch - and should help during those days that it's subzero and we can't go out and play. She pretends she's a "worker man" who fixes things around the house, and a doctor, a dentist, a mommy, a daddy, a baby, a kitty, a princess (pronounced pri-pess) and a queen. Oh - and the other night, she was Santa. We were playing in the living room while Pat was using the snowblower in the alley, and I had the Radio City Christmas Spectacular, aka, Lots of Women Singing and Dancing and Looking Exactly Like One Another and Having Legs That Go Up To Their Noses, on in the background, for ambiance, or something. Josie took notice during one of the rousing holiday numbers and excitedly pointed out Santa. Then she turned to me and said, matter-of-factly, "Santa has boy parts."

Now I'm a little nervous to take them to see Santa. Who knows what she's going to ask him.

Thank Goodness for Gedney

Tuesday, November 27, 2007
Thanksgiving 2007 - over and done. And Josie is thankful for "Special Treats." Her words, exactly, as we went around the table and told what we are thankful for. Treats as in, the bribes she gets for eating a good supper. Like pickles. And suckers.

Sunday night the girls were all decked out in their footie jammies, delaying bedtime by being super-cute and getting along. Evie picked up a basket I have in the living room, slung it over her arm and toddled off, waving bye-bye. We got quite a kick out of this, and Jo, upon seeing our delight in someone else's cuteness, decided that she should be part of the action, too. So she picked up the other basket I have in the living room, slung it over her arm and told me that she and Evie needed to go to the hardware store and shop. So they came and went, in and out of the living room together with their baskets, returning from "shopping" trips, then needing to go to the store, again. Evie was so happy to be playing with her big sister. Her little nose crinkled up when she smiled. Josie gave me a hug-unna-tiss every time they were "leaving" for the store.

And those few moments in time sum up exactly what I'm thankful for this year.

Comparisons

Monday, November 19, 2007


Both girls at about 16 months (Eve first, then Jo, in case you couldn't tell.) Hard to believe that Josie was a couple of months away from being a big sister at that point.

Big Game Hunter

My husband, thank all the good in goodness, is not a hunter. Not that I'm all anti-hunting or anything, I'll happily gnaw on some venison right alongside the next guy, but I just don't want any part of knowing anything about how that venison got on the table. Ignorance is bliss.

Anyway - I am not left stranded, a hunting-widow, each fall. And this may partially explain why. So back to the story. Here is my account of events in our house last night...

"CAROL!! WAKE UP! COME DOWNSTAIRS!!"

I look up to see Patrick standing by the bed, holding our cat.

"What??! Why???"

"Baxter got The Mouse***! Now it's in a vase! Downstairs!! Come down there with me!"

***We had an unwanted visitor in our house for the past couple of weeks. We were in the basement watching a movie a while ago, and I heard the distinct scurrying sounds of little mouse feet in the ceiling. Now, I grew up in an old house. I know what a mouse sounds like.

I expressed my concerns to my husband, only to be poo-pooed. So I dropped it. My philosophy is this: I've been pregnant. And been on bedrest. And given birth. Twice. Therefore, I'm way ahead of Pat in the "You Owe Me" department. So matters such as cleaning the litterbox, cleaning up dog poop, getting the spiders, and disposing of rodents - are not my job. Once again, ignorance is bliss. There are many things in life that I just want to happen. I don't want to know how, or when, or where... I just want them done.

And I can say these things. Because this is my blog. Now back to the story.

So then we heard the scurrying sounds again a few nights ago. And he looked behind the dogfood. And saw mouse poop. And then he decided to believe me.

He's been playing the mighty hunter for the past couple of days. By setting mouse traps with peanut butter. Only to be mocked by having the peanut butter licked off while not setting off the traps. But who am I to judge? He was doing something about it, and I wasn't, and whatever it took to get that mouse out of my house was fine by me.

Needless to say, at 11:00-something-p.m. last night, I was a little out of it. And as soon as I heard "mouse," I wanted no part of it.

"What do you mean downstairs? On the main floor?"

"NO. In the basement. I don't know what to do!!"

"Tough. I am not getting out of bed. I'm sure you and Baxter will figure it out."

Some time later, he came to bed. And wanted to regale me with tales of the fantastic mouse hunt. I begged for ignorance. And sleep.

Apparently, the entire process involved the vase, then a shoebox, then outdoors and then the St. Paul city sewer system. But I don't want to know.

I just hope the Mouse doesn't remember the way back.

And that there was only one.

I was all, like, "can you say Anal?"

As Eve stomped her foot and whined and pointed and said "Uh-oh" 50 times because the flip top on the syrup was left open.

So I closed it.

Then she turned her attention to same problem with the creamer sitting by the coffee pot being all offensive with it's top open mocking her.

So I closed it.

As I wiped the water droplets off the faucet and sink and turned the hand soap so that the label faced forward, I wondered, "Where does she get this stuff from??"

Seriously??!

Thursday, November 15, 2007
Check out this article:

Then promptly go bash your head against a wall. All this de-Christmas-ing of Christmas makes me ill.

I just made you say underwear

Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Jo and I were sitting at the kitchen table this morning when Evie walked in with one of my bracelets. Upon seeing this coveted item, Jo immediately proclaimed that she needed to have HER bracelet.

Me: "First of all, that's MY bracelet. And secondly, Evie is looking at it right now. You may have it when she's done. So don't get your undies in a bundle.***"

***Does anyone else actually say this, or is it yet another one of those oddball phrases that I've dragged with me into adulthood from my parents? Like how my Dad always used to say when I hauled myself out of bed at noon on a weekend in high school 'Well, there's another country heard from.' Or when I whined about how much I wanted something or wished I had something, 'Well, you can crap in one hand and wish in the other and see which you have more of.' What the hell does that mean anyway?? I may not know, but I guarantee you I'm gonna use it on my own kids.

Jo: She sat in silence for a few moments, thinking, then turned to me. In a teasing voice, while grabbing at her underwear, says, "Mommy... I'm bundling my undies...."

Sweethearts

Monday, November 12, 2007
So Pat stood in line for an hour last night to get into the funeral home for the wake of a guy he went to high school with and played hockey with. 31 years old. Married. Two small kids. An electrician. Apparently, a work-related accident that could have had a very different result if he would have taken the time to put on all of the safety gear that he was supposed to. These kids will barely remember their daddy. Talk about a wake up call. Every single action we take, or fail to take now, as parents, affects so many people.

That's one thing about all this death crap. (I know. I'm just a frickin' grim reaper, lately, aren't I?) The constant reminder that we have to "get our affairs in order." It's been on our ever-expanding to-do list since Josie was born. We're relatively intelligent human beings and we know full well that we need to do it. It's just the actual DOING IT part that gets us every time.

Grandma Ashton's funeral isn't until tomorrow. She died last Wednesday, and The Family (I extend them the courtesy of capitals because there are A Lot of Them. 11 kids. 26 grandkids. 33 great-grandkids.) wanted to have everything on Saturday. But she's being buried at Fort Snelling, and they don't do burial services on Saturdays. And today is Veteran's Day observed. So that leaves us with tomorrow. It's going to be a relief when it's all over. It's horrible to be preparing yourself for so long for what you know is going to be a grueling experience. Grandpa Ashton, desperately in love with this woman for 66 years, picked out 2 songs that he wants played at the funeral home before we leave for the church. "You Are My Sunshine," and "Let Me Call You Sweetheart." AND, during the funeral, one of their daughters is going to read a love letter that Grandpa wrote to Grandma years ago.

Note to self: stock up on Kleenex tonight. And where is my waterproof mascara?

Speaking of mascara. Josie likes to play with my makeup. Not that I have a lot. Which is partially why I can't afford to let her play with it. But the other morning she was in the bathroom with me, and I made the mistake of turning my attention to my own reflection in the mirror for like all of 30 seconds, and she managed to get the brush off my mascara and rub it all over her forehead.

Speaking of foreheads. Eve is sporting yet another lovely bruise on hers. This time she flung herself between my legs, directly on her head, on the transition piece between our kitchen and the living room. If you'll remember this is exactly the same move she pulled when she had to go to the ER earlier this fall - except she did it at daycare instead of at home. At least she didn't cut herself this time. I swear. Child protective services is going to come a-knockin' any day now.
Thursday, November 08, 2007

Grandma Ashton passed away last night, at her home. She was cracking jokes up to the end, and everyone was able to say their goodbyes. To say that she will be missed doesn't even cut it.

What will you do when faced with a business of ferrets?

Tuesday, November 06, 2007





































This is what you get when I don't download pictures from our camera in three months.

Josie-isms

Monday, November 05, 2007
Jo: "Mommy - what are those??"

Me: "Well, Jo - those are breasts."

Jo: "HEY. (looking down shirt.) I don't have those!"

Me: "No - no, not yet. When you're an older girl, you will get those."

Jo: "Yep! Not too long now..."

**************************************

I looked in Josie's room to see a mess of flashcards on her table. Pat, Jo and Eve were all playing in the room. I made the assumption that Josie had made the mess.

Me: "It's almost time to go. I wonder who is going to clean up the flashcards?"

Jo: "Well, NOT ME. (climbs on riding toy - she calls it her 'bus.') I have to go to work!"

Somewhere between yesterday and tomorrow

I've had too many reminders in the last couple of days of the beginning and the end. The stark differences between preparing and celebrating new life, and coming to terms with the ending of others.

Deep, I know. I'll keep this short.

It's just fresh in my mind, and also plays into the update of our past couple of days.

I went to a baby shower for my friend, Dawn, whom I've known since, geez, 5th grade, when she moved to Chatfield, on Saturday. It's awesome to be witness to the preparation and excitement of a new baby. The shower was in Spring Valley, and I was early, and the path I took carried me right by a little "town" called Pleasant Grove. To say it's small is an understatement. But Pleasant Grove is very near where I grew up, and in Pleasant Grove is a cemetery.

I've always had this weird fascination with cemeteries. They contain history, quiet and overwhelming peace. Maybe at this particular phase of my life, that's especially appealing to me due to the uncertainties of raising kids and worrying about their futures, the hectic pace of our lives and the unending chaos that evolves from having a family. Stepping into a cemetery brings with it certainty, finality, an absolute answer. This is the end. It's Plain and Simple. Something I don't have a lot of in my life right now.

And this particular cemetery has sentimental value to me as it is the resting place of numerous members of my family, including my Dad. A brother. A cousin. My Grandpas. I know it's silly, but it's always been important to me to "visit" the cemetery. To touch the gravestones. I know loved ones aren't really "there," but it's a place all its own to remember. To pay respects. I haven't been there in a while, and there have been changes since the last time I visited. Stones in place for my cousin and for the baby girl of another cousin that I hadn't seen before. It's a strange thing to see your family name, so clear and stark, engraved on a headstone.

Okay. Enough of that.

We celebrated family birthdays for Patrick's dad, sister and nephew yesterday. His nephew, Trent, will be 4 next week. It's fun to see how much excitement something as simple as a Garfield ice cream cake can bring to the life of a preschooler. There were so many gifts, it was like a mini-Christmas. With birthday cake.

Except hanging overhead was the sad news that Pat's Grandma Ashton is not well. She has made the Decision to stop kidney dialysis. And has numerous complications including a horrible bedsore, and pneumonia in one of her lungs. The family has been told to prepare for the end. What an awful thing to try to reconcile in your mind.

What a rollercoaster. New babies. Birthdays. Saying goodbye. Autumn. Guess it's all kind of apropos of the season.

Shocking

Thursday, November 01, 2007
I'm going to divulge something shocking.

I don't like Halloween.

I know. I'm waiting for the agents to come and cart me back to whatever country it is that I came from. It's completely un-American.

I've never really gotten into it - even as a kid.

I don't know if it's because we lived in the country, and trick-or-treating involved trekking around the neighborhood with my mom or aunt behind the wheel (uh - why is it that we never went to TOWN to go trick-or-treating??,) crammed in the car with my cousins, and we had to endure the adults "visiting" with each stop for like an hour, so we only got about 3 pieces of candy, and it was usually raining or cold or something miserable, and our driveway went up the middle of a cornfield and there's always so much scary movie hoopla around this time of the year (seen Children of the Corn lately?) and have you ever walked in the dark through a cornfield by yourself?

Well. That's what I associate with Halloween.

And I'm only slightly exaggerating.

Granted, I've come to terms with the holiday in my adult-years. Pumpkins are fun - I'll give you that. (That's for you, Peg.)

Except when they start to rot in your college apartment because your roommate (PEG) wouldn't part with them yet and they start to smell like fish sticks and you blame your neighbors for cooking fish sticks at all hours of the day and night for weeks on end, only to move one of the pumpkins one day and discover a new cure for diseases growing right in your very own living room.

So, wait. I've just talked myself right back into disliking Halloween again.

Anyway. Little kids dressed up on Halloween are cute. I'm resigning myself to the fact that I'm going to have to endure the holiday with some enthusiasm (however feigned it may be) for the next few years. And trick-or-treating with the Gronaus last night was a blast. I enjoyed myself way more than I anticipated and Jo had a great time with Lucy looking for houses with the lights on, running down sidewalks and of course, the candy. Oh - the candy. Also another redeeming part of the day.

And the day after. Now who had those peanut butter cups again... gotta go. :)

15 Months and what do you get?

Tuesday, October 30, 2007
Eve turned 15-months old a couple of weeks ago. I forgot to post her stats:

Weight - 19 lbs, 13 oz. 10th percentile.
Height - 29 1/2 in. 25th percentile.
Head - 95th percentile.

A ginormous head, and itty-bitty body. :) The doc suspects that part of her teensy-ness is due to her lactose intolerance and being on soy milk instead of whole milk. We're supposed to increase the fats in her diet... but it's tough when all she wants to eat is hot dogs. Developmentally, she's ahead of the game on everything, so no worries there. I'm convinced her over-sized noggin is due to all the scar tissue build-up from her falling and bumping her head all of the time. Okay - not really, but her poor cranium does take more than it's fair share of knocks.

Eve is crazy fun. And a challenge - but she's so stinkin' cute, it's easy to forget the challenges. She lights up a room with her big smile. And she can shatter all the glass in that same room with her scream. And she'll do both within a minute of each other - so you never quite know what you're in store for. She's quick to laugh, and just as quick to cry. I choose to believe that her strong will means that she'll always speak her mind and stand up for herself. I have to believe that, or I just might go insane.

She's added a ton of words to her vocab - she'll try to repeat just about any word you say to her - or simple phrases from songs. She points to everything and wants you to say what it is. We read about 3 or 4 books with her before bed, and she's very particular about the order in which you read them. I stack them up on the footstool, pick one, and she pushes it aside and points to the one she wants instead. She's been sleeping pretty well - she fusses at night a few times, but rarely do we have to go in. The last couple of mornings, we've had to wake her - which is a huge change for us. I've never really been able to watch her sleep before. She's a snuggler. But when she's done, she's done and you'd better set her down fast so she can run away and play.

She runs everywhere. She loves her sister and follows her all over the house. She carries around a baby doll, because Josie does. She wants to color, because Josie does. But, man - can they fight. And yet - each of them wants to know where the other is at all times. They like to brush their teeth together - Eve will drop whatever she's doing and run to the bathroom and climb up on the step-stool at the sink and wait for you to get her toothbrush ready. She follows simple commands - she'll put something away if you ask her to, or go find Daddy, or tickle the kitty.

We played in the leaves last night in the front yard. Josie loved it. She called the leaf pile her home. Eve was scared of more than one leaf in one place at a time. She cried and cried when we put her in the leaf pile. Night and day, those two.

Oh - and I also forgot to mention that we took the girls to Como Zoo Boo on Sunday. Awesome weather for the kids to be out in their costumes. I wish we'd have the same weather tomorrow... sounds like they'll have to bundle up. I have to say, my little bears are awfully cute. I'll post some pix soon. That was a really fun event - I think we'll definitely go back again in years to come. The girls weren't sure what to think of the whole thing at first - but then they got into it after a while. Josie got pretty good at holding her bag open for treats. Eve got good at finding trash on the ground and handing it to me.

Not one to mince words

Monday, October 29, 2007
I was on my Last Nerve at some point during the weekend, and after pulling my hair and rolling my eyes and throwing my hands up, I uttered the good ole rhetorical, "What am I going to DO with you girls??!!"

To which Josephine replied,"You could take us to the park."

I been to the edge, and I stood and looked down

Thursday, October 25, 2007


Van Halen. Last night.


So tired. Today.


Worth. Every. Penny.


Who knew I'd be such a concert freak. Which is probably why Pat and I are perfect for each other. If you're not a concert freak, you'll never understand. There's that moment in every concert, well - every good concert - where you look up at the crowd around you and for that one moment in time, the singer at the mike or the guy playing the guitar is a god, and the venue is heaven.


But that's probably just the contact high talking.


No matter - Eddie is still a god. And Diamond Dave is back. The first three times with Sammy were good. But last night with David was great.


Wow. Take that out of context and listen to what a floozy I sound like. Earmuffs, Mom, earmuffs.

"I was wondering why they put Queen Elizabeth on American money."

Tuesday, October 23, 2007
The quote above was heard in a certain Honda CRV in a certain toll-booth on a certain interstate on between here and Chicago. It was uttered by a certain 16-year-old girl. In order to protect her identity, she shall remain nameless. I'll call her "Schmalerie." The statement came after a particularly sour toll-booth operator gave us a particularly sour look after inadvertently attempting to pass him a Canadian dollar coin. He shot us his look, and all four occupants of aforementioned Honda shot him one right back, as we were all indignant that he would even suggest the notion that our 16-year-old in tow had incorrectly doled out foreign money. Until he held it up and handed it back to us. Oops. So we dutifully counted out 4 quarters in replacement, tucked our tails between our legs and rolled up the window and waited for the arm to raise and allow us to continue our adventure.

It feels like it's been ages. But I'm back now.


"Wicked" was phenomenal.

The Ford Center for Performing Arts / Oriental Theater is indescribable. A bit on the chilly side, but still awesome. :)
Saturday at home was about as perfect as you could get. We spent almost the entire day outdoors - raking, mowing and playing, and therefore, had a couple of very happy children.
Winona was... well, Winona. As it always will be. Filled with memories, college students (who just keep getting younger and younger - while interestingly enough, we just don't seem to age!) and the best darn appetizers and burgers you can imagine. We drove home on "the Wisconsin side" of the river, which I have never done before. I felt like I was looking at the world through a new pair of glasses. What a silly thing to go through life always doing things the same way. So that's my challenge for you today - mix it up a bit. Change a hard-wired routine, even just one time. It's amazing what it will do for your outlook on life.
And now, here we are. Back to it. Which is what I shall now do.

No News = Good News

Wednesday, October 17, 2007
Don't expect to hear from this country until, oh, next Tuesday or so.

I'm off to Chicago tomorrow to see "Wicked" (holy crap, I can't wait) with my mom, sister and niece, Val. We'll return on Friday, but then Patrick and I are headed down to Winona on Sunday for a mini-getaway to celebrate our 7th wedding anniversary.

7 years. Seriously. Do you realize that coming up here in January, Patrick and I will have known each other for 13 YEARS?!

Perpetuating the Stereotype

Tuesday, October 16, 2007
So I made arrangements to leave work early yesterday because Comcast was supposed to come to our house to do... something... regarding switching our phone service to... something... because... something about getting rid of the service we currently have and yadda yadda yadda. Whatever.

Comcast is not Qwest (who is the root of all evil in this world; spirit of service - my ass, but that's ancient history, and obviously, I've let it go) and I've been very happy with the service we've had with Comcast for the past however many years, so even though they're eliminating the service plan we've had, we decided to stay with them and take the upgraded service they're offering at a special price for the next year.

Yep. We'll be there between 3:00 and 5:00. Yep. Monday, October 15th. Yep. We called you and left you a frickin' CONFIRMATION message on SUNDAY at 4:30 in the afternoon CONFIRMING your appointment for MONDAY between 3:00 and 5:00. Yep.

And now it's 4:15 and I'm home. Fulfilling my end of the agreement. Doing my part. Doing the bull dance. Feeling the flow. Working it, working it. And I'm looking at the service agreement that says Monday. October. 15th. 3:00 pm - 5:00 pm. Waiting. Waiting on the world to change.

So I call Pat at work. Yep. Nothing yet. So he calls the customer service number and is told that OH! Look at that! It looks like your appointment is on Saturday, October 20th! So he calls me back and says, OH! Look at that! They said our appointment is on Saturday, October 20th!

Even though they left us a frickin' CONFIRMATION message on SUNDAY at 4:30 in the afternoon CONFIRMING our appointment for MONDAY between 3:00 and 5:00. Yep.

THEN. MY husband. Has the AUDACITY to say, and I quote, "I think you should just call. I'm too nice."

Well, isn't that just the icing on the cake?

So now it's 4:30 and I've called two numbers and no one can tell me what the hell happened between 4:30 SUNDAY afternoon and Monday when our frickin' appointment was SCHEDULED for.

AND, NO. John. I will not sit and wait for you to show up at my house on Saturday, October 20th. Because maybe I will want to HAVE A LIFE, and not sit and wait for you to NOT SHOW UP.

G-Dammit.

Proud to be an American

Monday, October 15, 2007
Lesson of the day

Too much of this...



and these...



leads to this...


Happy Monday.

OH - additions to Evie's vocab list over the weekend...

cup
good girl
tickle tickle (she's been saying this one for a while - I just forgot to write it down.)

OH (part 2) - I love those moments when Pat and I have the opportunity to witness something comical and share a raised-eyebrow look before we both bust up in laughter.

This morning's example was Jo standing on her step stool at the bathroom sink, brushing her teeth. She can't quite manage the faucet on the sink by herself, so will usually impatiently hold her toothbrush under the faucet while she waits for one of us to turn it on for her. Whomever is helping her at the moment is typically otherwise preoccupied, either readying themselves, or holding Eve. Jo has a habit of whining when she wants something, and we're working on having her "use her words."

Well, a while ago, Pat told her not to whine when she wants the faucet turned on, but to tell him, "rinse, please" instead. So in her interpretation of that request, she now holds her brush under the faucet and says, "RIIIINNNNSE!" in a surprisingly loud, drill sergeant voice.

At least she's using her words. I guess. Now onto manners... :)

And the Evie says...

Thursday, October 11, 2007

***Thanks to Rebecca R. for the pic.

Eve has a lot to say. Including, but not limited to:

UH OH
Hi-ya!
go?
Brewster
Baxter
squirrel
kitty
dog
Mama
Dada
Josie
thank you
there you go
this
that
car
all done

Now - anyone who wasn't present in the labor and delivery room when she entered this world may not be able to make out all of what she's saying - but those are the words that she attempts to say. With the exception of UH OH. Because she says that one A LOT, and it's very clear. And useful in various situations. Like when Josie pulls the comforter off her bed - Eve stands there pointing to it saying, "UH OH!" until Jo picks it up. And when Daddy just haphazardly leaves Josie's jammies laying in a pile on the floor - Eve stands there pointing to them saying, "UH OH!" until he picks them up. Or when she's entering the bathroom with the intent to unroll the entire roll of toilet paper onto the floor, she says, "UH OH!" the entire time she's walking toward the paper, pointing at the paper and unrolling the paper.

Kick in the Shins

Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Every once in a while, good ole' Mother Nature sez to me, "Carol, you're still young. Well, kinda. And you've pooped out some awfully cute babies. And I know you've still got some eggs in your basket - so how 'bout you give it another go?"

And every once in a while, I sez to Ma Nature, "Ma Nature, you're right! Maybe we should give it a whirl. Babies are cute, and cuddly, and usually smell so good."

See - that's what a sneaky old hag that Mother Nature is. She makes us forget all the other stuff and dangles adorable newborn baby feet in our faces.

But then, thank the stars and heavens above, I have my Evie. She's looking out for us. She knows when I'm feeling weak and gives me a little reminder on why two is such a lovely number. How? you might ask? By having screaming fits at 12:20 am, then not going back to sleep until 1:45 am. I know I'm taking a risk by even thinking that we're done, and I could be eating my words sometime in the future. Who knows - 2 years from now, I could very well be sitting here with yet another redhead to help ensure that our species doesn't become extinct in 100 years.

But on this early morning after this late night with this screaming toddler, I sez, "Forget you, Ma Nature, we've still got more than we can handle - so for right now, you know where you can shove those adorable newborn baby feet."

I have one word for you: snip-snip.

In the Days of Clams and Chowders

Monday, October 08, 2007
It's lunchtime. I probably should balance my checkbook. Or search for things for hubby and me to do on our upcoming wedding anniversary. Maybe even something that doesn't require a coupon.

Or possibly - avert your eyes if you have a sensitive stomach - work through lunch.

But here I am - writing to you, instead.

So a while ago I received one of those annoying forwarded emails (sorry, Mamasan) that demands you to forward on to 10 friends or die a horrible and untimely death, and which required only that the recipient describe the sender in one word. This seemed not-so-horrible, and the day and mood struck me, and I actually did forward this one on, instead of hitting ye ole' delete button. I expected exactly zero responses, and received seven. Bonus! For those who didn't respond, I completely and totally understand, and only view you slightly less of a friend than I did before. :) Normally, I wouldn't, either, and that's precisely why we all get along so well.

I actually compiled a list of the responses (remember, these are the one-word responses that my friends chose when asked to describe me,) and will share them with you:

Supportive
Articulate
Woo-Woo (If you don't know, please don't ask.)
Pleasurable
Fun
Writer
Perspicacious (I know. I had to look it up, too.)

I wrote the responses down and have them posted here at my desk. I've found it quite helpful when I'm having one of Those Days (you know - the ones when I use words such as "overweight," "poor," or "boring" to describe myself) to take a look at the list and give myself a little boost. I know that a good self-image is supposed to come from within... Dr. Phil... blah, blah, blah... but it really does help to know that some people that I hold in pretty high esteem chose those words to describe me. So, thanks. That was very munificent of you.

Kings and Vagabonds

Don't get me wrong - I love Sir Elton. BUT - his rendition of "Can You Feel the Love Tonight" gets STUCK. IN. MY. HEAD. For days. Not all of it, either, which would be a little more tolerable, but mostly just the phrase, "kings and vagabonds," but you have to say like this: "kingsh and vagabondsh," in a very low, very Sean Connery tone. If I'm being perfectly honest (and I don't mean to be rude) - it's utterly horrible. In case you couldn't tell - "The Lion King" is on the most frequently played list at our place lately.



I'm flippin' tired today. Stupid rain doesn't help.



Neither does a jam-packed weekend. We:

celebrated Mom's birthday on Friday at my sis's house in Chatfield, took the girlies to Underwater Adventures at MOA on Saturday, visited Aamodt's Apple Orchard on Sunday morning, then went to a post-marathon party to honor Jean's completion of the Twin Cities Marathon yesterday.
OH - and how could I forget??! I lived the "suite"-life (sorry.) in our company suite Thursday night for the home opener of the Minnesota Wild season. And they won. And I went out for a beer (or two.) with a friend from work afterwards. And that late night was probably the kicker as it started off the busy weekend.



Good times. I haven't visited my friends at Caribou in ages... hmm... gotta go. :)

Invisible

Monday, October 01, 2007
This was forwarded to me today by a pretty cool mom. I thought it was worth sharing. I'm not usually one to be overtly "churchy" or anything - but I like the underlying message in this one. And hey - I know that most of us are not alone in the work of raising our children - I didn't write it :)

It all began to make sense, the blank stares, the lack of response, the way one of the kids will walk into the room while I'm on the phone and ask to be taken to the store. Inside I'm thinking, "Can't you see I'm on the phone?" Obviously not; no one can see if I'm on the phone, or cooking, or sweeping the floor, or even standing on my head in the corner, because no one can see me at all.

I'm invisible.

Some days I am only a pair of hands, nothing more:
Can you fix this? Can you tie this? Can you open this? Some days I'm not a pair of hands; I'm not even a human being. I'm a clock to ask, "What time is it?" I'm a satellite guide to answer, "What number is the Disney Channel?" I'm a car to order, "Right around 5:30, please."

I was certain that these were the hands that once held books and the eyes that studied history and the mind that graduated summa cum laude - but now they had disappeared into the peanut butter, never to be seen again. She's going, she's going, she's gone!

One night, a group of us were having dinner, celebrating the return of a friend from England. Janice had just gotten back from a fabulous trip, and she was going on and on about the hotel she stayed in. I was sitting there, looking around at the others all put together so well. It was hard not to compare and feel sorry for myself as I looked down at my out-of-style dress; it was the only thing I could find that was clean. My unwashed hair was pulled up in a hair clip and I was afraid I could actually smell peanut butter in it. I was feeling pretty pathetic, when Janice turned to me with a beautifully wrapped package, and said, "I brought you this." It was a book on the great cathedrals of Europe. I wasn't exactly sure why she'd given it to me until I read her inscription:
"To Charlotte, with admiration for the greatness of what you are building when no one sees."

In the days ahead I would read - no, devour - the book. And I would discover what would become for me, four life-changing truths, after which I could pattern my work:

No one can say who built the great cathedrals - we have no record of their names.

These builders gave their whole lives for a work they would never see finished.

They made great sacrifices and expected no credit.

The passion of their building was fueled by their faith that the eyes of God saw everything.

A legendary story in the book told of a rich man who came to visit the cathedral while it was being built, and he saw a workman carving a tiny bird on the inside of a beam. He was puzzled and asked the man, "Why are you spending so much time carving that bird into a beam that will be covered by the roof? No one will ever see it." And the workman replied, "Because God sees."

I closed the book, feeling the missing piece fall into place. It was almost as if I heard God whispering to me, "I see you, Charlotte. I see the sacrifices you make every day, even when no one around you does. No act of kindness you've done, no sequin you've sewn on, no cupcake
you've baked, is too small for me to notice and smile over. You are building a great cathedral, but you can't see right now what it will become."

At times, my invisibility feels like an affliction.

But it is not a disease that is erasing my life. It is the cure for the disease of my own self-centeredness. It is the antidote to my strong, stubborn pride. I keep the right perspective when I see myself as a great builder. As one of the people who show up at a job that they will never see finished, to work on something that their name will never be on. The writer of the book went so far as to say that no cathedrals could ever be built in our lifetime because there are so few people willing to sacrifice to that degree.

When I really think about it, I don't want my son to tell the friend he's bringing home from college for Thanksgiving, "My mom gets up at 4 in the morning and bakes homemade pies, and then she hand bastes a turkey for three hours and presses all the linens for the table." That would mean I'd built a shrine or a monument to myself. I just want him to want to come home. And then, if there is anything more to say to his friend, to add, "You're gonna love it there."

As mothers, we are building great cathedrals. We cannot be seen if we're doing it right. And one day, it is very possible that the world will marvel, not only at what we have built, but at the beauty that has been added to the world by the sacrifices of invisible women.

The Curse

Doncha' hate it when you're trying to cram your newly-purchased feminine products underneath the bathroom sink (because god forbid that you clean out all the crap under there) and suddenly you bump into a pipe or something and it breaks and then you're in the middle of Niagara Falls, in your very own bathroom?

Yeah. Me, too.

Then you're drenched, and the floor is quickly turning into a kiddie-pool, and your children are starting to cry because you're screaming at your husband to... do something. Which he quickly and effectively does, thank God, because you realize that you have absolutely no frickin' idea where the water shut-off valve is in your own home. **Note to readers - learn where the water shut-off valve is in your own homes.

And now I know why they call it "the curse."

Otherwise - it was an uneventful weekend.

Josie thinks that because it's dark out in the mornings now when we're up and at 'em, we should still be sleeping instead of getting ready to go to Betty's house. I wholeheartedly agree.

Eve thinks that 1/2 hour naps are more than sufficient. I wholeheartedly disagree. She just doesn't understand that naps make the world go 'round. Someday, when she has a dreaded 8:00 a.m. class in college, she'll understand the virtues of the nap.

Miscellanies

Wednesday, September 26, 2007
I wrote awhile back about how there were days I feel like a super-mom. Last night, we were a super-family.

It was just one of those nights where everything is spot on, perfect. Of course, there are still moments of whining, defiance and quick tears... and then the girls have their fits, too :) Daycare pick-up was joyful, Eve was a one-girl comedy show, Jo was in a great mood, we warmed up a bunch of leftovers for supper (which would normally put me in a VERY crabby mood... but for some reason, I didn't mind last night,) were done eating and had the kitchen cleaned up before 6:00, got everyone ready, loaded in the wagon and headed to the park. We rivaled the frickin' von Trapp family, sans homemade curtain-clothing.

Since there were frantic middle-school football games going on by "our" park, and we wanted to play some fetch with the dog, we headed up to the local elementary school. Patrick has played with the dog and girls there before, but I never had. It was a nice change of scenery. I don't know what it was, something in the air, alignment of the stars, Jupiter was in retrograde... I don't know. It was just... good. Even though there was a stream of traffic on 3rd St, and people out walking their dogs, and an event going on at the church across the street, I felt like we had the world to ourselves. In that moment, I had everything I could ever ask for.

Maybe we'll have to do leftovers more often.
______________________________________

Updates:

My back and neck are doing much better. I've been going to the natural care clinic a couple times a week. I'll start going once a week now, and can hopefully stop going soon, and be in "rehab." Whatever that means. Do I have to give up the booze?

Speaking of which - Pat and I had an interesting convo last night. He gets confused by "on the wagon" and "off the wagon." He always mixes them up - so when talking about someone who is currently sober, wants to say that they're "off the wagon." Apparently - "the wagon" isn't sobriety in his mind... but one giant party, instead. Woo-hoo! Let's get on the wagon! Maybe it has something to do with the fact that his fraternity always had a float in the homecoming parade in college, and everyone would be drinking and partying at 9:00 in the morning... on the wagon. Hmmm...

Eve's noggin is fine. She's got a nice little gash over her right eye on her forehead, but it looks like it's healing. And it certainly hasn't slowed her down one bit. Now she has taken to giving me mini-heart attacks by trying to climb over the gate at the top of the basement stairs. Might as well reserve a bed in the ER now.

Ben is undergoing treatments. He has a long road ahead. Keep him and my brother and Amy in your thoughts, as it is a bumpy road.

Pat's Grandma is taking things one day at a time. She is still fighting the staph infection and trying to find a balance between all that ails her.

Another Jo-ism... the other night she had a tear in her thumbnail. So I got the clippers and took care of it for her. It had torn a little short, and must have been bothering her. She said something about it hurting, and I told her that I was sorry it hurt, but it would grow out soon and stop hurting. She thought about this for a while, and then asked me "when her thumb would grow up.

Amen.

Monday, September 24, 2007
This wins my coveted "Cool Post of the Day Award."

What's that you say? I don't have an award? Oh. Crap.

Check it out anyway.

http://www.dooce.com/archives/daily/09_20_2007.html

By the moon and the stars in the sky...

I swear.

No - not the lyrics to a John Michael Montgomery song... I actually mean that sometimes, I swear. I really try not to... but situations just bring it on. You know, like driving. And letting the dog out to go potty and having him bolt through the giant hole in our fence. (NOTE - said hole in fence is now fixed. Yahoo!) So when situations like this arise, sometimes the only sure thing is to let out a good ole G-dammit.

So I'm in the kitchen on Saturday and Pat is working outside and the dog has just been let out and I hear Josie ask where Brewster went and I say something to the effect of "outside to go potty" or "in the yard with Daddy," and she goes to the sliding door to look and I hear "G-dammit!"

Oops. So I pause.

And I hear it again. So I decide that I should probably address the situation. Or should I? But then I hear her say it again. Yup. I should.

So I step to Eve's bedroom, and Jo is leaning against the rocking chair, looking somewhat sheepish, and I ask her, calmly, politely, what she just said. And she tells me. And the funny thing is, she says it with this tone and look on her face like she knows that it's a bad word and shouldn't be repeated, without me even having to say so.

At this moment I'm feeling much more parental - at least in an authoritative, I-need-to-teach-you-right-from-wrong, way than I really ever have before, although also somewhat like I'm drowning, because geez, Martha, I don't know what the heck I'm doing.

So I simply say, "Jo, that's not a nice word and we shouldn't say it. Mommy and Daddy shouldn't say it, either."

And, bless her little soul, she simply says back to me, "okay, Mommy. I won't." Could I be any more lucky??!! We'll see if it sticks.

So like I says, the fence is fixed. And the laundry is done, at least for an hour or so. And we had a pretty low-key weekend. I have this image burned in my brain of the girls in the Barbie Jeep in our yard last night, Josie with her foot firmly fixed on the gas, Eve in the passenger seat, holding onto the windshield and the biggest smile you've ever seen in your life plastered across her face, and Pat racing along beside them grabbing the steering wheel to make sure they don't inflict bodily harm onto their little selves.

Then Monday morning comes. And I'm chatting with co-workers, and my spy-phone rings. Okay - so I'm not really a spy, I just play one on tv. But I do have a display phone at work, so if I ever don't answer when you call me, it's probably on purpose. So I look, and see that it's DB. G-dammit. DB only calls if someone is bleeding. And even then, maybe only if they're bleeding profusely.

So I throw up a little bit in my mouth because I know this isn't going to be happy news, then pick up the phone. Eve bumped her head (big surprise) and has a gash above her eye. DB got the bleeding to stop, and put a butterfly bandage on it, and Eve is fine. So I delegate stitches-duty to Pat and off he goes. And that's pretty much all I know for right now. He got the runaround at our clinic and I think he's at the ER with her right now. ***UPDATE. Just got angry call from angry husband. Still waiting to be seen. Daughter getting angry. ****UPDATE. Finally seen at ER. Glued cut closed. Seriously? We pay people lots of money. To glue my child. I'm in the wrong profession.

Like sands through the hourglass...

My Friend, Sugar

Monday, September 17, 2007
Reader be warned. This is going to get rambly.

Sometimes I can't find the words.

And it drives me absolutely insane.

You may say that judging by the length of this post - it looks like I found words-o-plenty. Which I did, but what I mean is that sometimes I feel like I can't find the right words.

Usually when I'm feeling all discombobulated, making a list helps. If we're leaving for a weekend trip - I have a list of everything we need to pack. Having a birthday party - a list of everything that needs to be done and bought. Approaching changing seasons - a list of all the clothes I need to buy for the girls. But this time - making a list just won't cut it.

Let me explain.

Jody at Nitty.Gritty frequently blogs about finding the joy in your life, taking note of happy moments as they occur and enjoying the little things. I greatly admire her and her outlook on life, so I'm always thinking a lot about what she says, and trying to take joy in the small moments in our life and the lives of our little girls, while they're still little.

Maybe I've just encountered so many of them lately that I can't wrap my mind around all of it. So many times over the weekend I was whacked upside the head with a whole lot of... lucky. Josie and Evie are blowing me away every single day with their... well, just their collective being. They are so happy. And funny. And smart. And beautiful. Of course, I've always known this - but I am really focusing on appreciating it. Now that I'm appreciating it... it's the expressing it that I'm having problems with.

Who knows. Maybe how well I'm able to express it just depends on what time of the month it is. If you know what I mean. And if you don't - don't sweat it. I'm not going to explain. Sorry - tmi.

Wow. A bit better, I am feeling. Cathartic, this blogging is.

So. How 'bout a weekend wrap-up and a few highlights to really drive home my point. Wait - did I have one? Not so much? Oh, well. Guess time will tell.

If you haven't noticed, my Friday-updates play like a broken record. Which I absolutely love, because we get to spend them with people we absolutely love, the Gronaus. This time around, we played at the Dayton's Bluff Rec Center open-gym time for toddlers / pre-schoolers. Apparently, there are a number of these open gyms around our area, we're just finally getting in on them. And they are fabulous. A whole gymnasium open for little ones to run and jump and play and make a mess in for 2 hours. Genius.

Friday afternoon we packed up the girls and took them to Grandma Di and Grandpa Mike's house. For the night. I know. Can you believe it? A whole night to ourselves to enjoy the wedding reception for our friends, Dave and Dana, who got married in Wyoming in August. Um, a good time was had. Perhaps a little too good, but I digress. But what a treat not to have to rise and shine at the crack of 6:30 with the girls and their crazy demands for attention and food and whatnot.

Saturday we picked up the girls around 10:30 am, then went to a housewarming party for another friend, Katy, up in Hugo later that afternoon. Our stay was cut a bit short as Eve got a heckuva tummy ache and started to scream. Nothing gets a party started like a screaming toddler, so we un-gracefully made our exit. And she continued to scream the entire way home. The kind of scream that says she's in pain and kills every cell in your heart because you don't really know what's wrong, and there's nothing you can do about it. I don't know if something she ate rubbed her the wrong way, or if she had too much fruit, or what - but her poor little belly was hard as a rock, and we were finally able to get a couple of good burps out of her, and she seemed to be better. And proceeded to sleep well - which was a blessing, considering that I was braced for a rough night.

Sunday we went to St. Jerome's Fall Festival. Holy cow - I can't even begin to believe that a whole year has passed since the last one... I can remember last year's with crazy clarity. I've usually got a pretty darn good memory for details - even with "mommy-brain," but the amount of things I remember from last year is kinda weird. Like where we parked, and the people sitting in front of us, what the girls were wearing, and walking through the school holding Josie's hand and baby-Evie in her carrier on my front... it's weird.

And here we were, doing it all over again a year later. The weather couldn't have been more perfect, Evie fell asleep on Pat half-way through the outdoor polka mass, and we just plain had a good time (here, I'm tempted to say despite the polka mass... but I won't :):):).) Josie got to ride a pony, Sugar, which I'm pretty sure is the same pony she rode last year. We had some lunch, played some games, and Jo went in the "bouncy" 3 times (and got scared at the top of the slide the last time, so Pat had to climb in and go get her to alleviate the back-up of impatient kids impatiently waiting their turns.) Eve is still a little too little to enjoy most of the activities, but she loves being outside and was happy wheeling around in the stroller, with the occasional stop to let her roam around to eat rocks and shove pine cones up her nose and threaten the Jesus statue in front of the cake-walk. Who could ask for anything more!? It was way past nap-time, so we told Jo it was time to leave. Her poor little tired self didn't agree - and she cried the whole way to the van. "It's not time to go hoooooommmme!"

Oh - cute Josie story. Last night she was reading books with Daddy before bed. Big surprise. They came out of the bedroom to make the last potty stop of the night - and something caught my attention in the doorway out of the corner of my eye, so I look, and there's Josie, standing in the doorway, with her booty sticking out, shaking her butt at me. When I looked, she smirked and bolted into the bathroom. Of course, she thought she was quite funny, so repeated the performance on the way back to her room. Didn't say a word, just shook her butt and continued on her way. That kid cracks me up.

Cute Evie story - due to the um, crabby, disposition of our cat, Baxter, our girls never have "meowed" a sweet little kitten mew when you ask them what sound a kitty makes. It's more of a growling, agitated, angry meow-sound. So Eve loves that crazy cat, regardless of his crusty nature. If he dares to walk in the same room as her, she screams excitedly, and runs to belly-flop on top of him and love him up. Which, as you can guess, he does not take too kindly to. He'll "meow" at her - and now she has started to throw one right back at him. Which only perturbs him even more. And I think slightly baffles him - as he thinks he's being tough and scary, and most kids would probably agree and high-tail it for safety. Poor Eve doesn't have anyone to compare him to, so she thinks it's perfectly normal behavior.

And. Thanks to everyone for your kindness and good thoughts for Ben and Grandma Ashton. It sounds like things are going well for Ben, and they didn't find any more cancer in his body. I wish, so wish, that I had equally good news for Grandma Ashton. I don't know all of the details, but it sounds like she has a couple of tough decisions to make regarding continuing the antibiotics or continuing dialysis. Hopefully they can get the infection under control and things will turn around.

And I'm done. For now.

The Power of Positive Thinking...

Tuesday, September 11, 2007
I'm writing today to ask for good thoughts, well-wishes, prayers... whatever sort of positive vibes you're into... for a couple of family members.

My brother's wife, Amy, has an 18-year-old son, Ben. Ben was diagnosed with Rhabdomyosarcoma this summer. They found it in a salivary gland. He's looking at some tough treatments coming up, and I know they all could use your well-wishes.

Patrick's Grandma Ashton is currently hospitalized at United. She's had a tough time this summer - had heart problems and started kidney dialysis, and now more recently, a staph infection landed her back in the hospital. Currently, she's still fighting the infection and blood clots in her legs, the stent for dialysis keeps plugging, and she's in a lot of pain. This is one amazing woman who has given birth to 11 children... and manages to keep track of all of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. Someone with such a huge heart deserves huge prayers. Not only is she struggling right now, but her husband, Patrick's Grandpa Ashton, is in a care center. Their whole family could really use a break from anymore bad news.

Half-Cracked

Monday, September 10, 2007
Chiro update: I didn't *quite* get the relief I was seeking. After ooh-ing and aah-ing over how tight my upper-back and neck muscles were, she was able to adjust my neck nicely, but my spine wouldn't cooperate. I'm scheduled out for 4 more appointments during the next couple of weeks. I spent most of the weekend mighty sore, but by Sunday was feeling quite a bit better.

Otherwise, not much for news. Sometimes I feel like all I write about is the stressful, "bad" stuff that happens to us. Really, that "stuff" is only about 2% of our daily lives. The rest is quite mundane. But fun.

We took the girls to Como Town and the Zoo yesterday morning. The weather was perfect, it wasn't crowded, we got a great parking spot, and we had a coupon (of course! I am married to Captain Coupon, after all...) for buy ten ride tickets, get ten free - which is a crazy amount of tickets for a two and a-half-year old considering that the rides that interest her are one or two tickets - AND not to mention that we just absolutely LOVE that place. As far as I'm concerned, it beats the Minnesota Zoo a hundred times over. Anyway - we have lots of leftover tickets for Como Town rides if anyone is interested in going with us again by the end of the season. Super-cute side note: Josie takes her baby with us everywhere now. Including the zoo. She would sit in front of each exhibit and make sure her baby could see the animals. If you go and the animals seem a little disturbed, it's probably residual stress leftover from our visit and Eve shrieking with excitement at the top of her lungs when she'd spot the animals. Some of the monkeys seemed equally as interested in her as she was in them. Or they high-tailed it for safety.

Toddlers are funny. I went to get groceries yesterday afternoon after naps while Pat took the girls and dog over to his parents' house for a quick visit. We all arrived back home at about the same time, and commenced turning the house upside down in an attempt to put away all $150 worth of groceries and get supper started. Josie and Eve were "helping" me put away groceries. Jo actually is a pretty good helper, while Eve just likes to take things out of the bags and set them wily-nily all over the floor. So while simultaneously trying to grab jars of spaghetti sauce from Jo before they got dropped on the floor and keep Eve from opening and eating the container of mystery corn meal in our pantry - a collection of empty paper bags started to gather near the stove. We finally got everything put away and washed and prepared, and I turned to fold up the aforementioned empty bags. Only to find all of the letters and refrigerator magnets in one. And my shoes in another. And the remotes, and remote basket and baby monitors scattered in others. I turned to look for the culprit, and there is Jo, sitting sweetly in her chair at the table, smirking at me.

We bravely attempted a family dinner outing on Saturday night. After taking the girls to a park in West St. Paul, we went to Chula Vista on Robert Street. That's right - you guessed it, with a coupon. It went well. Josie is a piece of cake, it's Eve that is the questionable factor in the equation right now. Not because she's Eve, but because she's 13 months old. And doesn't like to sit still. But we came prepared with an arsenal of toys and books, and made it through the meal without any major embarrassing incidents. We were seated next to a wishing well, which Josie told me she'd like to go in. While Pat was wrangling Eve, who at this point was free from her highchair and was stubbornly attempting to go into the kitchen, I convinced Jo that the wishing well was only for coins to go in, and then she delightedly cleaned me out of pennies.

We got home after dinner, only to discover that Brewster had eaten all the cherry tay-moes (that's tomatoes, in case you didn't know) we had picked and put in a bowl on the counter. Jerk-ass dog. I was really looking forward to enjoying our bounty - considering that I've only consumed about 4 since the crop started. Somehow - when Pat and Jo go outside to gather them... not many make it into the house. Needless to say, this tragedy was the subject of most of our conversation for the remainder of the night.

Let's see, what else... um, Josie can count up to six now. And is very interested in writing her name. And Eve's name, and mommy, and daddy... with help, of course. It's so fun to see her desire to learn and soak up everything. And she amazes us every day with her manners. And when she gets up in the morning or when we pick her up after work, she tells us how much she misses us, and asks us if we missed her. We're bursting with pride, if you couldn't tell. She's such a doll.

And I've failed to mention, partly because I'm afraid of "jinxing" it - but Eve is sleeping like an absolute dream now. She has taken a total 180-degree turn, and is a breeze to put to bed. She still gets a nighttime bottle, we read about 3 books while she sits on my lap in the chair in her room, we sing a lullaby and she's practically diving head-first into her crib on her own. She buries her face in her blankie, turns to grab her other blankie, smiles and... that's it. I exit her room and she babbles contentedly for a bit before drifting off. To most of you this probably seems pretty routine - but for us, it's a dream-come-true. Which is why we're going to stinkin' enjoy every second of it while we can!

I'm sure part of the reason why she's sleeping so well now is because she is so active - what with walking, and running, and climbing and falling all over the place. The joy she takes in all of her new tricks can't even begin to match her parents'...

Big kudos to Patrick for cleaning out and organizing the garage on Saturday. It was bad. Real bad. I think he likes to let it get that bad just because I'm SO excited then when he does clean it. Well, I'm on to your shenanigans, mister.

Oh - and we just spent an insane amount of money on Van Halen tickets. I don't really know why I mention this. Perhaps to justify our equally insane over-usage of coupons. :)

Goin' to the chiro... and I'm gonna get adju-uu-uu-sted...

Thursday, September 06, 2007
(sung to the tune of "Goin' to the Chapel")

It's Christmas. Or a really good sale at Macy's. Or maybe free health coolers from Caribou. That's just how excited I am for my upcoming appointment with my new chiropractor today.

Funny how quickly we forget major events in our lives, like when we're in a fender-bender (8 years ago) and have to visit a chiro for a few months after for adjustments, massage and muscle stim treatments.

Yeah. I totally forgot about that until something tweaky happened in my back and neck last weekend as we were getting ready to leave for my grandma's house. It hasn't gone away like it should have when I ignored it, and has invited a whole host of other annoying guests to its' party like a constant, dull headache and numbness down my right arm. Oh, and the super-fun party trick of not being able to turn my head without a sharp, shooting pain through my back.

Oooohhhh. I can taste it now... that one little crack right in between my shoulder blades. I can't wait!!

Might have to get a health cooler to celebrate :)

Sweet As Sweet Can Be

Wednesday, September 05, 2007
Sometimes I need to think before I say something stupid. It's a trait that runs in my family... right, Mamasan...? :):):)

Anyhoo... apparently, I spoke too soon yesterday. The doc said that we should keep up the drops for 24 hours after the eyes have been clear. Which we did. But. We arrived at daycare to pick Beaner and Doodle up last night - and Doodle (that's Eve, just in case you didn't know) has gunk in her eye, again. Still not sure why DB (that's Daycare Betty, just in case you didn't know) didn't call us... but we've started the drop regimen all over again, on both of them, in hopes that this will Finally Go Away. No one else is showing any symptoms, yet. But I'm not going to count my cows before they calve. Or something.

So I tell Beaner (that's Josie, just in case you didn't know) to come get her drops, and she dutifully listens and comes to lay her head on my lap. That's the smoothest part. Then it's a struggle to get her to lie still, to not squinchy her eyes shut so hard that there is no hope in the world any of the drops will seep in and to keep her arms and hands out of my way. But we finally succeed without too much flailing around, and she gets up like it was a walk in the park and says in the sweetest little voice, "Thank you, Mommy."

Number of the day: 7. School bus count on trek to daycare this morning: 7. Ah ha ha! 7 school buses.