15 Months and what do you get?

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

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

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."

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

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

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

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...

***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

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

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

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.