At the dinner table tonight - I finished saying our prayer, and grabbed my fork, and was just about to take a bite...
Jo: "Mommy," (long pause) "where is God?"
Me: thinking to myself, oh crap. Blasted Twins home opener. Pat, where are you??!! "Well, He's kind of everywhere... but I guess you could say He's in Heaven."
Jo: "Welllll... why is He in Heaven? Did He get old? Like Buford?"
Me: "Hmm. Um - no... that's just kind of where He is."
Jo: "Oh. Can I see Him someday?"
Me: geez, Martha. How can I segue this into Dora or Super Why? "Yes. Someday we'll all see Him." holy crap. This is way too deep. Please change the subject. Please change the subject. Eve - DO something - why in the world are you quiet NOW??!
Jo: "Okay. Maybe I'll ask Daddy, too. Will he see God at the baseball game?" Yess!
Josie was sitting in the hallway one morning, trying to get the stubborn lid off her jar of "Sleepy Dust" that I left for her and Evie last summer while I was gone to Charlotte.
Jo: "Farts! FARTS! Evie - can you say 'farts'?"
We were gearing up to go to the park, or for a little walk, I forget which. Josie was extremely happy at the prospect to be outside, to say the least. She was the first to be ready, and was running around, proclaiming her happiness.
Jo: "Brewster! Brewster! I'm excited, Buddy... Are you excited??! Let's go! WAIT! My room is a MESS - I have to go clean up my room first!!" I'm going to enjoy that one while it lasts...
Eve walked around the house all day last Friday saying "S'cuse me. S'cuse me!" to everything she thought was in her way. The couch, the end table, Josie...
Josie was being silly at the dinner table the other night. She made a face, then told us:
"My brother does that."
Me: "Oh. Your brother?"
Jo: "Yeah. His name is Choy."
Pat: "Choy. Wow, Mommy - where exactly do you spend your days on Fridays, anyway?"
Me: simultaneously ignoring Patrick, but also giving him the evil eye, "So, Jo. What else can you tell us about Choy?"
Jo: "Welll... he's my brother. But, he's a girl. And he's from Choy-fau."
I was doing something in the kitchen, Josie and Eve were playing in the living room.
Jo: "Mommy! Look at me right now. State your problem!"
The girls had finished watching a movie, and were trying to figure out how to con me into letting them watch something else. I was standing firm in my decision that it was time for the television to be off for a while. Seeing that she was fighting a losing battle...
Jo: "Oh, Mommy, are you sad? Let's see, Mommy - I'll make it better..." grabs the remote, "Here. Let me find you your show. Now - where is Ellen??"
Take a Look
Friday, March 28, 2008
Here's just a quick look at some of what we've been up to in March, 2008... Enjoy!
Princess Problems
Tuesday, March 25, 2008
Humph.
I don’t know where to start. Last time I checked in was Friday morning… so I guess that’s somewhere. Friday I invited myself and the girls over to the Gronau residence for a play date. It was snowing buckets (wait – I think buckets are only supposed to be used when referring to rain – oh, well,) but I couldn’t bear the thought of sticking around home for the whole day, and didn’t feel like driving too far in the snow. Jo gets a little antsy and likes to know “where we are going today.” So I bundled the kids, brushed the van, and bustled the 4 blocks in the blizzard. Friday night was book club. An evening filled with snacks and drinks and friends and all the loveliness that follows when the three are combined. Oh – and the book. Of course.
Saturday morning the girls and I dyed Easter eggs. Josie loves a project. It’s her favorite. Along with everything else, lately. Dressing up is her favorite. Irish dancing is her favorite. That green stuffed bunny that she hasn’t touched in 2 years is her favorite. Some cheesy romance paperback novel off my bookshelf is her favorite – remember, from when she was a little girl. Anyway - so we colored a couple dozen hard-boiled eggs (minus the few that I ate during the couple days prior) and Josie got to sticker them up any way she liked. Eve didn’t last long – she wanted to chuck the eggs into the cups from across the table, and then drink the “juice.” And since I’m all anal and wouldn’t let her turn coloring eggs into the game of Beirut that she wanted (there are a handful of you who will know what I’m talking about there) – she went off in pursuit of more fun endeavors. This suited Jo just fine. When we ran out of eggs, she wanted me to “find other things to color.”
I think I mentioned that our washing machine started sounding like someone was pulling its toenails out and sucker punching it right in the bread basket. And it wouldn’t drain. So I pulled out a few items, wringed out what water I could before my frozen hands felt like they were going to fall off and dried a few clothes at a time. Pat took a look at it on Saturday, used the wet vac to get the water out, consulted the internet gods and then called his uncle for help. They tore it apart and found one of my granny trouser socks stuck in the pump, clogging up the works. And now it’s happy again. Thank the internet gods. After the cost of getting the van fixed and buying a new water heater… we’d prefer to wait a bit before shelling out more dough for a new washer.
And meanwhile, during all this fun, Eve skipped another nap, and her poor little right eye starting getting all red and watery and gooey. This happened to her over Christmas, too – when she gets a cold, it seems to settle in her eyes and they get all gunk junky. It was getting pretty bad – so Pat ended up taking her to urgent care, and got her on meds. While they were off doing that – I decided to take Josie to her first movie in a theater. After a few recommendations for Horton Hears a Who! I thought I’d give it a try. She was pretty intrigued by the whole theater experience, of course, the popcorn helped. But we didn’t make it through the whole movie before she was asking to go home. I thought the movie was a bit boring, personally, but then again – I didn’t get to see the whole thing. I think it was a combination of being tired, and missing her sister that didn’t bode well. She kept asking about Evie during the ride home, and wondering why she wasn’t there with us. I was a little disappointed – well, a lot disappointed, as I don’t really get to do much with Josie alone. But she is more of a “live action” movie kid – and next time we’ll stick with the dollar theater, just in case.
Sunday… oh – yeah, Easter! We were up and found Easter baskets, and fed and dressed and made it to St. Jerome’s for 8:30 a.m. mass. Then we went to Gulden’s for brunch with Pat’s family, and back to his parents for an egg hunt in their basement. Home for naps, then over to the Dwelly residence to catch a quick visit with Ryan before he went back to college. It was kind of a bummer that it was snowy and wet and mushy outside – but Easter won’t be this early again for a long, long time. Josie did make it outside to use some of the bounty of bubbles that she got as Easter presents. It was a hectic one, but a really fun day. And the girls looked extra cute in their frilly dresses and Easter hats. I’ll post some pics sometime.
Those Disney Princesses. And their problems.
· Grandma Dianne gave Josie this adorable little gold purse that used to be her mother’s. It’s now her most coveted possession. Her favorite, if you will. She wanted to take it to Betty’s today, and asked me if I would carry it to the car for her. She handed it over to me, with some trepidation regarding its safety. We started the freak show that is our procession out of the house and to the garage, and she kept looking over her shoulder at me. Each time, she’d throw out a warning: “Don’t drop it in the snow!” “Don’t let it get wet!” “Don’t put it in the tree!” Geesh. I carried HER around for months on end without dropping her in the snow or letting her get wet or putting her in trees. Where’s the trust?
· Eve has a shoe obsession. Not a bad obsession to have, mind you. She tries on everyone’s boots, shoes and sandals, and tests them out around the house. Sometimes, she’ll come out with only one on, then next time you see her, she’s found an entirely new pair to test drive. She found a pair of Lucy’s pink cowboy boots and managed to get one on. On her short little legs, they were more like a boot/chaps combo as they covered her entire leg. Super cute. She’ll try and try and try to do it herself, and usually manages. Especially helpful when we’re getting ready to gear up for outside – love having her put on her own boots!
· Eve is pouring out new words. I can’t remember them all – but I know we’ve heard “kitchen,” “napkin,” “lay down,” “awake,” “bad dog,” “be nice,” “we go,” “where’d it go,” “apple,” “my window, too…” That last one was in the car this morning. The girls watch for buses, and Josie always has to know whose window we see them out of. She was laying claim to all the buses – and Eve finally saw one – out “my window, too.”
I don’t know where to start. Last time I checked in was Friday morning… so I guess that’s somewhere. Friday I invited myself and the girls over to the Gronau residence for a play date. It was snowing buckets (wait – I think buckets are only supposed to be used when referring to rain – oh, well,) but I couldn’t bear the thought of sticking around home for the whole day, and didn’t feel like driving too far in the snow. Jo gets a little antsy and likes to know “where we are going today.” So I bundled the kids, brushed the van, and bustled the 4 blocks in the blizzard. Friday night was book club. An evening filled with snacks and drinks and friends and all the loveliness that follows when the three are combined. Oh – and the book. Of course.
Saturday morning the girls and I dyed Easter eggs. Josie loves a project. It’s her favorite. Along with everything else, lately. Dressing up is her favorite. Irish dancing is her favorite. That green stuffed bunny that she hasn’t touched in 2 years is her favorite. Some cheesy romance paperback novel off my bookshelf is her favorite – remember, from when she was a little girl. Anyway - so we colored a couple dozen hard-boiled eggs (minus the few that I ate during the couple days prior) and Josie got to sticker them up any way she liked. Eve didn’t last long – she wanted to chuck the eggs into the cups from across the table, and then drink the “juice.” And since I’m all anal and wouldn’t let her turn coloring eggs into the game of Beirut that she wanted (there are a handful of you who will know what I’m talking about there) – she went off in pursuit of more fun endeavors. This suited Jo just fine. When we ran out of eggs, she wanted me to “find other things to color.”
I think I mentioned that our washing machine started sounding like someone was pulling its toenails out and sucker punching it right in the bread basket. And it wouldn’t drain. So I pulled out a few items, wringed out what water I could before my frozen hands felt like they were going to fall off and dried a few clothes at a time. Pat took a look at it on Saturday, used the wet vac to get the water out, consulted the internet gods and then called his uncle for help. They tore it apart and found one of my granny trouser socks stuck in the pump, clogging up the works. And now it’s happy again. Thank the internet gods. After the cost of getting the van fixed and buying a new water heater… we’d prefer to wait a bit before shelling out more dough for a new washer.
And meanwhile, during all this fun, Eve skipped another nap, and her poor little right eye starting getting all red and watery and gooey. This happened to her over Christmas, too – when she gets a cold, it seems to settle in her eyes and they get all gunk junky. It was getting pretty bad – so Pat ended up taking her to urgent care, and got her on meds. While they were off doing that – I decided to take Josie to her first movie in a theater. After a few recommendations for Horton Hears a Who! I thought I’d give it a try. She was pretty intrigued by the whole theater experience, of course, the popcorn helped. But we didn’t make it through the whole movie before she was asking to go home. I thought the movie was a bit boring, personally, but then again – I didn’t get to see the whole thing. I think it was a combination of being tired, and missing her sister that didn’t bode well. She kept asking about Evie during the ride home, and wondering why she wasn’t there with us. I was a little disappointed – well, a lot disappointed, as I don’t really get to do much with Josie alone. But she is more of a “live action” movie kid – and next time we’ll stick with the dollar theater, just in case.
Sunday… oh – yeah, Easter! We were up and found Easter baskets, and fed and dressed and made it to St. Jerome’s for 8:30 a.m. mass. Then we went to Gulden’s for brunch with Pat’s family, and back to his parents for an egg hunt in their basement. Home for naps, then over to the Dwelly residence to catch a quick visit with Ryan before he went back to college. It was kind of a bummer that it was snowy and wet and mushy outside – but Easter won’t be this early again for a long, long time. Josie did make it outside to use some of the bounty of bubbles that she got as Easter presents. It was a hectic one, but a really fun day. And the girls looked extra cute in their frilly dresses and Easter hats. I’ll post some pics sometime.
Here are some other random things that I wanted to make sure to get down:
· Josie was “reading” her new Princess book that she got in her Easter basket. She was reading it to herself at the kitchen table, then told me that I needed to sit down so she could read it to me. It went a little something like this:
Those Disney Princesses. And their problems.
· Grandma Dianne gave Josie this adorable little gold purse that used to be her mother’s. It’s now her most coveted possession. Her favorite, if you will. She wanted to take it to Betty’s today, and asked me if I would carry it to the car for her. She handed it over to me, with some trepidation regarding its safety. We started the freak show that is our procession out of the house and to the garage, and she kept looking over her shoulder at me. Each time, she’d throw out a warning: “Don’t drop it in the snow!” “Don’t let it get wet!” “Don’t put it in the tree!” Geesh. I carried HER around for months on end without dropping her in the snow or letting her get wet or putting her in trees. Where’s the trust?
· Eve has a shoe obsession. Not a bad obsession to have, mind you. She tries on everyone’s boots, shoes and sandals, and tests them out around the house. Sometimes, she’ll come out with only one on, then next time you see her, she’s found an entirely new pair to test drive. She found a pair of Lucy’s pink cowboy boots and managed to get one on. On her short little legs, they were more like a boot/chaps combo as they covered her entire leg. Super cute. She’ll try and try and try to do it herself, and usually manages. Especially helpful when we’re getting ready to gear up for outside – love having her put on her own boots!
· Eve is pouring out new words. I can’t remember them all – but I know we’ve heard “kitchen,” “napkin,” “lay down,” “awake,” “bad dog,” “be nice,” “we go,” “where’d it go,” “apple,” “my window, too…” That last one was in the car this morning. The girls watch for buses, and Josie always has to know whose window we see them out of. She was laying claim to all the buses – and Eve finally saw one – out “my window, too.”
Reunited, and it feels so good.
Friday, March 21, 2008
Thanks to Super Dave, aka Paige and Addy's Daddy - the glory of hot water has been returned to the Daly household. He'll never know the breadth of my gratitude this morning as I showered in my very own home. Maybe I'll let him sniff me sometime. That's just how clean I am.
The spring snow is falling - and Josie can't stop asking if it's summer yet. The girls got a lovely Easter package from Amma Ue yesterday. Inside were these bunny bubble wands, which I promptly dubbed "outside toys." So now Josie is holding her bubble wand, staring out the window, waiting for the snow to be gone. Speaking of the lovely Easter package - just how much chocolate does it really take to kill a dog, anyway? Because Brewster ate every ounce you sent, Mom. I left the box on the counter when I left the house yesterday - and when I returned, he had torn the box open, and eaten all the candy. Guess he's just looking out for my weight loss efforts. I could tell it was a crapload of chocolate - and it didn't seem to phase him one bit.
So I do indeed have a sinus infection. A couple doses of meds in me and I already feel TONS better. The girls both have little hacks of their own. If nothing else, Eve's raspiness has toned down the shrillness of her yelling. So that's something.
Out of nowhere the other night, Eve started having actual conversations with us. We'd ask her questions, and, miracle of miracles, she's answer with the real answer, and not just "no." So that's fun.
As I type this, I am wearing a pair of Josie's sunglasses, because, well, I was ordered to by her highness, because "it's almost summer out, Mommy, and I don't want the sun to hurt yours eyes balls."
The girls just got done watching Super Why. I can't even tell you how much I love this show. My kids really dig it, will sit and watch the entire thing the whole way through, and Josie can now totally recognize all the letters of the alphabet. It's just a warm, fuzzy, all-around good show. It's on at 8:30 am and 6:00 pm. You should watch it sometime.
The natives are getting restless. Gotta go.
The spring snow is falling - and Josie can't stop asking if it's summer yet. The girls got a lovely Easter package from Amma Ue yesterday. Inside were these bunny bubble wands, which I promptly dubbed "outside toys." So now Josie is holding her bubble wand, staring out the window, waiting for the snow to be gone. Speaking of the lovely Easter package - just how much chocolate does it really take to kill a dog, anyway? Because Brewster ate every ounce you sent, Mom. I left the box on the counter when I left the house yesterday - and when I returned, he had torn the box open, and eaten all the candy. Guess he's just looking out for my weight loss efforts. I could tell it was a crapload of chocolate - and it didn't seem to phase him one bit.
So I do indeed have a sinus infection. A couple doses of meds in me and I already feel TONS better. The girls both have little hacks of their own. If nothing else, Eve's raspiness has toned down the shrillness of her yelling. So that's something.
Out of nowhere the other night, Eve started having actual conversations with us. We'd ask her questions, and, miracle of miracles, she's answer with the real answer, and not just "no." So that's fun.
As I type this, I am wearing a pair of Josie's sunglasses, because, well, I was ordered to by her highness, because "it's almost summer out, Mommy, and I don't want the sun to hurt yours eyes balls."
The girls just got done watching Super Why. I can't even tell you how much I love this show. My kids really dig it, will sit and watch the entire thing the whole way through, and Josie can now totally recognize all the letters of the alphabet. It's just a warm, fuzzy, all-around good show. It's on at 8:30 am and 6:00 pm. You should watch it sometime.
The natives are getting restless. Gotta go.
Don't. Have. To live like a refugee.
Thursday, March 20, 2008
Day 4.
It's cold in my heart. Cold in my sink. So very cold. In the bathroom, in the kitchen - the water is so cold. How I long for the warmth again. Will I ever feel the warmth again? It's a dark time in my life. A cold time. Someday, I dream that my dishes will be clean again. That my children will be clean again. A warm bath sounds so far away. I will never again take for granted the luxury of hot water. But now. I wait. I will wait for you, oh sweet water heater.
Yeah. Still no new water heater in the Daly home. That's all I'm going to say about that. Except that thank goodness for the graciousness of wonderful friends who will share their bounty of hot water with you so that you can bathe yourself. You know who you are.
And as I sit here typing this (I'm home today. I think I have a sinus infection. I see my doc later.) the washing machine is grinding and groaning and making truly horrific noises. Would anyone else like to line up at my front door and kick me in the shins? Feel free. Must be the season.
It's cold in my heart. Cold in my sink. So very cold. In the bathroom, in the kitchen - the water is so cold. How I long for the warmth again. Will I ever feel the warmth again? It's a dark time in my life. A cold time. Someday, I dream that my dishes will be clean again. That my children will be clean again. A warm bath sounds so far away. I will never again take for granted the luxury of hot water. But now. I wait. I will wait for you, oh sweet water heater.
Yeah. Still no new water heater in the Daly home. That's all I'm going to say about that. Except that thank goodness for the graciousness of wonderful friends who will share their bounty of hot water with you so that you can bathe yourself. You know who you are.
And as I sit here typing this (I'm home today. I think I have a sinus infection. I see my doc later.) the washing machine is grinding and groaning and making truly horrific noises. Would anyone else like to line up at my front door and kick me in the shins? Feel free. Must be the season.
I'm a ramblin' man. Or something.
Monday, March 17, 2008
I don’t know what my deal is. While I love to try to keep you entertained with somewhat witty accounts of the happenings in our lives and the chaos that consumes our family – lately, it just makes me a little… tired. So until I climb out of this slump – I will continue to log events and post a few pics. I’m sure the inspiration will return, so don’t fret, dear reader. I can’t even muster the energy to format this post into anything resembling coherent. So here is a bunch of rambling stuff from the last few days, in no particular order.
Our water heater decided to spring a leak last night. Tons of fun. The poor girls, and dog, were all geared up and excited to go out for a walk, and I was busy putting away goods from my grocery shopping trip and had run downstairs quick to throw a ham in the freezer. I almost wiped out, and my slippers were soaked as I found myself standing in half an inch of water in our basement. So we un-geared the girls and Pat headed down with the wet-vac to clean up the mess. Water heater shopping is not my idea of a good time.
We brought the girls downtown St. Paul on Saturday for the St. Patrick’s Day parade. It was a lot of green craziness. We met up with Pat’s dad, brother and nephew to watch the hour-long hoard of shiny, “happy” people parading and pretending to be Irish. This is now Eve’s newest addition to her vocab. “I-Wisshh!” Brian brought Josie a beaded necklace with a big “Irish Princess” sign attached – kind of like the fancy necklaces old school rappers wore with dollar signs and hub caps. She wore it all day. Later that afternoon, she told me I needed to call her Cinderella, the Irish Princess. I didn’t know Cinderelly was so ethnic. I don’t think either of the girls really knew what to think of all the people, and noise, and greenness of it all. Of course, neither did I. Times have changed. 7 years ago, we had a keg on ice in the bathtub of our apartment downtown. Now, we had to hustle to leave because it was naptime.
Our daycare provider was on vacation last week. So we divvied up the week with Pat’s parents – they took the girls Monday and Tuesday, Pat stayed home on Wednesday, and I took Thursday off. Pat may as well have worn a cape that said “Super Dad,” as he made their day by taking them to Como Zoo, and to get ice cream at Dairy Queen. I’m not sure who had a better day, the girls or their dad. On Thursday, I took the girls to run a couple of errands, then to visit the Central Library downtown. It was a lot of fun – they kept bringing out loads of toys for the girls to play with, including these adorable hand puppets and stage that Josie absolutely loved. But the downside is the parking situation – while I got a great spot right out front of the library at a meter… I missed the expiration by like 3 minutes, and got a parking ticket. I swear the cop must have been sitting on the hood of my van, wringing his hands in excited anticipation of that meter expiring. Bastard. I’d like to see him wrangle two crabby-squirmy-hungry-tired girls into their coats and check out movies and herd them out the door before the meter expired. Next time maybe we’ll take the bus. THAT would be an experience. Actually – I bet it would be the highlight of the girls’ week.
The church just down the road from us has an annual fish fry on Friday nights during lent. We met up with the Gronaus and ate some fish. Well, the adults ate some fish – I think the kids enjoyed the mac and cheese and pudding much more. And figuring out how they were going to escape the giant dining room and make it to the glory of the large, long hallway where they could run and run. I didn’t even realize that was the last Friday before Good Friday until Pat mentioned it when we got home. Easter being so early this year is really throwing me off. We made it to St. Jerome’s for 10:30 mass Sunday morning. Woo doggie, that Palm Sunday mass is a loonnnggg one. Eve pooped about half way through – and announced that she pooped, just in case anyone's olfactory senses weren’t working, so I took her out to change her, and we kind of hung out in the lobby for a while watching a mom with an unhappy newborn little boy, otherwise, there was going to be trouble with a capital T. It’s already hairy making through an hour service – and this one rang in at about an hour and a half. After I returned to the pew with Eve, Jo had to go potty, so I took her out. I guess while we were gone, Eve called out for Josie over and over again, found a picture of a camel in her animal book and made spitting sounds and then started banging her cup on the wooden pew. I’m sure there are more than a couple of people who find her very distracting to the service – but she’s pretty funny. If nothing else, she’s entertaining. There was a picture of Jesus on the cross hanging just behind us, and she kept pointing at it saying “dressed!” – as in, that guy needs to put some clothes on. Whenever the choir would finish a song, Eve would announce “all done,” then ask “bye bye?”
As I was changing Eve on the landing of the stairway leading down to the basement – because the church doesn’t have a baby changing station in the bathroom or significant counter space in the bathroom, which drives me INSANE – I was struck by how that particular landing holds a couple pretty significant memories for me. I can remember taking that stairway down with Pat to my RCIA (right of Catholic initiation for adults) classes the year before we got married. Then I distinctly remember standing and waiting with my brother on that landing on my wedding day while the procession into the church began. We were talking with Ben, our ring bearer, and Emilie, our flower girl about art classes at school. I was starting to sweat, and I remember wondering if I put on enough deodorant. And now – there I was sitting on my knees, changing a poopy diaper. I find it interesting that I can’t remember what household items I need from Target unless I write them down – but I can recall memories with vivid detail like that as if they happened yesterday.
I mentioned to someone just a bit ago that Josie hasn’t really thrown us for a loop with any deep, death-type talk or questions, yet. But I guess I spoke too soon. Not too long after that, we were sitting at the kitchen table, and Eve must have said “kitty.” We used to call our cat, Buford, who died a year ago, Kitty-Kitty, sometimes. Keep in mind – Josie was just over 2 when he died. Right after Eve said “kitty,” Josie paused for a few moments, and asked me where Kitty-Kitty went. I said, “Do you mean Buford?” She said she did – and I told her that he got old and died and went to Kitty Heaven. Then she asked if we’d be able to see him again. I told her we would, someday. Then she countered by asking if he would come back again. I told her no – he wouldn’t be coming back, once you go to heaven, that’s where you stay. She asked again where he went, mulled over my answers for a bit – then asked if we could go to “Kevin’s” and see him. *sigh* So now I have a 3-year-old who’s walking around thinking that when pets die, they go to our friends Tricia and Kevin’s house - and Kevin is some sort of keeper of dead pet souls. They’re going to have some explaining to do when we visit them again and Jo is walking around looking for Buford.
Our water heater decided to spring a leak last night. Tons of fun. The poor girls, and dog, were all geared up and excited to go out for a walk, and I was busy putting away goods from my grocery shopping trip and had run downstairs quick to throw a ham in the freezer. I almost wiped out, and my slippers were soaked as I found myself standing in half an inch of water in our basement. So we un-geared the girls and Pat headed down with the wet-vac to clean up the mess. Water heater shopping is not my idea of a good time.
We brought the girls downtown St. Paul on Saturday for the St. Patrick’s Day parade. It was a lot of green craziness. We met up with Pat’s dad, brother and nephew to watch the hour-long hoard of shiny, “happy” people parading and pretending to be Irish. This is now Eve’s newest addition to her vocab. “I-Wisshh!” Brian brought Josie a beaded necklace with a big “Irish Princess” sign attached – kind of like the fancy necklaces old school rappers wore with dollar signs and hub caps. She wore it all day. Later that afternoon, she told me I needed to call her Cinderella, the Irish Princess. I didn’t know Cinderelly was so ethnic. I don’t think either of the girls really knew what to think of all the people, and noise, and greenness of it all. Of course, neither did I. Times have changed. 7 years ago, we had a keg on ice in the bathtub of our apartment downtown. Now, we had to hustle to leave because it was naptime.
Our daycare provider was on vacation last week. So we divvied up the week with Pat’s parents – they took the girls Monday and Tuesday, Pat stayed home on Wednesday, and I took Thursday off. Pat may as well have worn a cape that said “Super Dad,” as he made their day by taking them to Como Zoo, and to get ice cream at Dairy Queen. I’m not sure who had a better day, the girls or their dad. On Thursday, I took the girls to run a couple of errands, then to visit the Central Library downtown. It was a lot of fun – they kept bringing out loads of toys for the girls to play with, including these adorable hand puppets and stage that Josie absolutely loved. But the downside is the parking situation – while I got a great spot right out front of the library at a meter… I missed the expiration by like 3 minutes, and got a parking ticket. I swear the cop must have been sitting on the hood of my van, wringing his hands in excited anticipation of that meter expiring. Bastard. I’d like to see him wrangle two crabby-squirmy-hungry-tired girls into their coats and check out movies and herd them out the door before the meter expired. Next time maybe we’ll take the bus. THAT would be an experience. Actually – I bet it would be the highlight of the girls’ week.
The church just down the road from us has an annual fish fry on Friday nights during lent. We met up with the Gronaus and ate some fish. Well, the adults ate some fish – I think the kids enjoyed the mac and cheese and pudding much more. And figuring out how they were going to escape the giant dining room and make it to the glory of the large, long hallway where they could run and run. I didn’t even realize that was the last Friday before Good Friday until Pat mentioned it when we got home. Easter being so early this year is really throwing me off. We made it to St. Jerome’s for 10:30 mass Sunday morning. Woo doggie, that Palm Sunday mass is a loonnnggg one. Eve pooped about half way through – and announced that she pooped, just in case anyone's olfactory senses weren’t working, so I took her out to change her, and we kind of hung out in the lobby for a while watching a mom with an unhappy newborn little boy, otherwise, there was going to be trouble with a capital T. It’s already hairy making through an hour service – and this one rang in at about an hour and a half. After I returned to the pew with Eve, Jo had to go potty, so I took her out. I guess while we were gone, Eve called out for Josie over and over again, found a picture of a camel in her animal book and made spitting sounds and then started banging her cup on the wooden pew. I’m sure there are more than a couple of people who find her very distracting to the service – but she’s pretty funny. If nothing else, she’s entertaining. There was a picture of Jesus on the cross hanging just behind us, and she kept pointing at it saying “dressed!” – as in, that guy needs to put some clothes on. Whenever the choir would finish a song, Eve would announce “all done,” then ask “bye bye?”
As I was changing Eve on the landing of the stairway leading down to the basement – because the church doesn’t have a baby changing station in the bathroom or significant counter space in the bathroom, which drives me INSANE – I was struck by how that particular landing holds a couple pretty significant memories for me. I can remember taking that stairway down with Pat to my RCIA (right of Catholic initiation for adults) classes the year before we got married. Then I distinctly remember standing and waiting with my brother on that landing on my wedding day while the procession into the church began. We were talking with Ben, our ring bearer, and Emilie, our flower girl about art classes at school. I was starting to sweat, and I remember wondering if I put on enough deodorant. And now – there I was sitting on my knees, changing a poopy diaper. I find it interesting that I can’t remember what household items I need from Target unless I write them down – but I can recall memories with vivid detail like that as if they happened yesterday.
I mentioned to someone just a bit ago that Josie hasn’t really thrown us for a loop with any deep, death-type talk or questions, yet. But I guess I spoke too soon. Not too long after that, we were sitting at the kitchen table, and Eve must have said “kitty.” We used to call our cat, Buford, who died a year ago, Kitty-Kitty, sometimes. Keep in mind – Josie was just over 2 when he died. Right after Eve said “kitty,” Josie paused for a few moments, and asked me where Kitty-Kitty went. I said, “Do you mean Buford?” She said she did – and I told her that he got old and died and went to Kitty Heaven. Then she asked if we’d be able to see him again. I told her we would, someday. Then she countered by asking if he would come back again. I told her no – he wouldn’t be coming back, once you go to heaven, that’s where you stay. She asked again where he went, mulled over my answers for a bit – then asked if we could go to “Kevin’s” and see him. *sigh* So now I have a 3-year-old who’s walking around thinking that when pets die, they go to our friends Tricia and Kevin’s house - and Kevin is some sort of keeper of dead pet souls. They’re going to have some explaining to do when we visit them again and Jo is walking around looking for Buford.
Chipping away... slowly...
Wednesday, March 12, 2008
Another 2 lbs. gone. Sounds like a broken record - but I'll take it! I don't think I posted last week about how I had a bit of a rough week and only lost 0.2 lbs. A loss is a loss... but that was a measly one. So I kicked things up a bit for this last week - took the dog for a wog (that's a walk/jog) around Lake Phalen, made sure to work out both days last weekend, and added another flight of stairs to my work climb. I also religiously drank enough water each day and watched my calories a little closer. This was our week 9 weigh in... so we're closing in on the end of the 12 week challenge! I am now 10.8 lbs. away from my goal... crazy.
Peanut Gallery
Saturday, March 08, 2008
Evie loves to brush her teeth. All you have to say is "brush" and she comes running from wherever she is in the house. Usually it's a foot race between her and her sister for who can get on the step stool first.
Eddie and Evie on Josie's bed. They were adorable wrestling around. I won't be taking this so lightly in a few years. I hovered - making sure she didn't hurt him. She's kind of a bruiser, for such a peanut.
Eve giving Will a kiss. This was immediately after Will shoved Eve (in an effort to get her out of the way so he could get to the stuffed animals) and Eve bounced a Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtle off his head in retaliation. I think they parted on good terms.
The bathroom is one of the only rooms in our house that gets delicious sunshine around midday. Maybe that's why the girls were hanging out in there for so long.
I was searching for some corn starch in our pantry yesterday afternoon, and ended up with a mountain of bags of flour, powdered sugar and sugar all around me. I did, finally, find the corn starch - by the way. The girls were at the table having afternoon snack. Jo looks over and sees me struggling and searching and accumulating quite a catastrophe around me on the floor.
Jo: "Whoa. Mommy. I have to tell you something. (pauses for a couple of beats.) That's a giant mess."Eve looks up from her snack and sees the mess. Without missing a beat, she chimes in with the Barney song: "Clean up! Clean up!"
Josie and I were snuggling on the couch the other night. She likes to have me lay on my side with my legs bent, then she makes a "nest" on the couch in the crook of my legs. She got herself situated and told me, "Mommy. Please call me Honey. I'm Honey, the Nest Girl."
Eve has been dragging her blankie all over the house for the past couple of days, yelling "Pull! Pull!"
Josie pulled a no-napper on me yesterday. Both girls went down as usual - Eve conked out, but I could hear Jo singing songs to herself for about 40 minutes. Finally - she asked me to come back in and sing her a couple more songs. I left - and Eve woke up. They stayed in their respective beds for another half hour or so, just chatting and singing. And I had just told Meg earlier that morning that Jo was still a napper, and I didn't imagine that she was going to ditch them any time soon. Guess I spoke too soon. But an hour and a half of quiet time in her room is better than nothing.
Eve is big into baby dolls. She carries them around with her, comforts them, pretends to feed them, and now they "bite" her. She'll put her finger by their mouth, then pulls it away quickly while saying, "oh - ow!" and presenting it to me for a make-it-better kiss.
Ah. Everyone's asleep. I think I'll join them. Perhaps if I hibernate a while, I'll wake up and it will be spring.
Better than tequila...
Tuesday, March 04, 2008
This definitely just brightened my day. Yadda yadda yadda. Yeah, I know he was kinda good, I guess. Still doesn't mean I had to like the guy. "Mentally tired." Buck up and join the club, mister.
And this always helps, too...
Objects in the mirror.
I’m sure, or pretty sure, that most working-outside-of-the-home parents have struggled with the same feeling that I found myself fighting this morning as I walked up the steps to my work building.
It was relief.
Then it was the guilt that followed, BECAUSE I felt relieved. Relieved to have dropped my children off to be cared for by someone else for the day. That so goes against the natural grain of the warm, fuzzy, motherly feelings that I have most days.
But not today.
I couldn’t take another minute of the screaming. I couldn’t take another minute of the whining. I couldn’t take another minute of not being able to finish ONE STINKIN’ TASK that I started because someone needed something from me. Right now. My super-mom cape is feeling pretty worn and tattered today. In fact, it kinda feels like it’s been run over by a couple of Mack trucks. And then pooped on. I don’t know if it’s the weather, or just a phase, or what. But my patience is not just thin lately, it’s pretty much gone. Hopped a plane to somewhere warmer. With room service.
There are days when being at work is like a magical little oasis. An oasis where I can go to the bathroom (by myself) and not have to answer a hundred questions about where the pee goes when I flush the toilet and is it here in the tank, or is it here underneath the toilet, and WHY CAN’T WE SEE IT ANYMORE??!! An oasis where I can have a snack all to myself and not have to try to hide it from anyone for fear of them wanting the same snack and having to reason and justify why they can’t have any more yogurt because they just had yogurt and we’re going to be eating lunch in just a little while, so just go play for a few more minutes, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY. An oasis where I can write in a notebook with my very own pencil and finish a thought and not have to make sure that everyone else has paper of their own to make their own lists and get them pencils, not black pens because I don’t like black pens, remember, and oh – great, now you want to make a list, too, so here is some paper – oh, well, you threw it on the floor and no, I’m not going to pick it up for you, again – FORGET IT. I’ll make my list later. After I drink this bottle of tequila. Never mind. I can’t even do that. Because that’s waaayyy too many calories.
My kids are not bad kids. They’re actually pretty darn good kids, if I do say so myself. They’re fun kids, funny kids, and I love to be around them. I have to be okay with the fact that sometimes, I need to not be around them. I *guess* that doesn’t make me a bad mother, does it? Because society, or something – we’ll just call it “society” for lack of better understanding, sure makes me feel that way sometimes.
I know I divulge more on this site than a lot of others do on their own sites. But life isn’t always pretty. Or perfect. Or happy. And maybe I need to find a different outlet for some of this pent-up stress and frustration. Or… maybe there’s someone else out there who feels exactly the same way today, and is reading this and realizes that they’re not the only one. I hope that’s the case – because it’s sure easy to feel like the only one sometimes. I know it helps me a lot to know that someone else has days like this, too, and maybe, just maybe, normal is a little closer than it appears in the mirror.
It was relief.
Then it was the guilt that followed, BECAUSE I felt relieved. Relieved to have dropped my children off to be cared for by someone else for the day. That so goes against the natural grain of the warm, fuzzy, motherly feelings that I have most days.
But not today.
I couldn’t take another minute of the screaming. I couldn’t take another minute of the whining. I couldn’t take another minute of not being able to finish ONE STINKIN’ TASK that I started because someone needed something from me. Right now. My super-mom cape is feeling pretty worn and tattered today. In fact, it kinda feels like it’s been run over by a couple of Mack trucks. And then pooped on. I don’t know if it’s the weather, or just a phase, or what. But my patience is not just thin lately, it’s pretty much gone. Hopped a plane to somewhere warmer. With room service.
There are days when being at work is like a magical little oasis. An oasis where I can go to the bathroom (by myself) and not have to answer a hundred questions about where the pee goes when I flush the toilet and is it here in the tank, or is it here underneath the toilet, and WHY CAN’T WE SEE IT ANYMORE??!! An oasis where I can have a snack all to myself and not have to try to hide it from anyone for fear of them wanting the same snack and having to reason and justify why they can’t have any more yogurt because they just had yogurt and we’re going to be eating lunch in just a little while, so just go play for a few more minutes, PLEASE FOR THE LOVE OF ALL THAT IS HOLY. An oasis where I can write in a notebook with my very own pencil and finish a thought and not have to make sure that everyone else has paper of their own to make their own lists and get them pencils, not black pens because I don’t like black pens, remember, and oh – great, now you want to make a list, too, so here is some paper – oh, well, you threw it on the floor and no, I’m not going to pick it up for you, again – FORGET IT. I’ll make my list later. After I drink this bottle of tequila. Never mind. I can’t even do that. Because that’s waaayyy too many calories.
My kids are not bad kids. They’re actually pretty darn good kids, if I do say so myself. They’re fun kids, funny kids, and I love to be around them. I have to be okay with the fact that sometimes, I need to not be around them. I *guess* that doesn’t make me a bad mother, does it? Because society, or something – we’ll just call it “society” for lack of better understanding, sure makes me feel that way sometimes.
I know I divulge more on this site than a lot of others do on their own sites. But life isn’t always pretty. Or perfect. Or happy. And maybe I need to find a different outlet for some of this pent-up stress and frustration. Or… maybe there’s someone else out there who feels exactly the same way today, and is reading this and realizes that they’re not the only one. I hope that’s the case – because it’s sure easy to feel like the only one sometimes. I know it helps me a lot to know that someone else has days like this, too, and maybe, just maybe, normal is a little closer than it appears in the mirror.
Fine way to make an exit
Monday, March 03, 2008
We spent much of the day on Saturday at the Xcel Energy Center downtown St. Paul to cheer on my cousin's son, Ben, in the championships of the 112 lb. weight, Class A state wrestling tournament. He's a senior this year, so no matter how the match ended, his high school wrestling career was going to be over. He has made it to state individually three times... and pulled off a victory this time. Pretty sweet. Josie summed it up best when she asked me, "is he the best of everyone?" Yes - he is. :) Then she was very concerned about when he was going to take a shower. Nothing gets by that kid.
Daddy Made Toots.
We're so proud. "Daddy made toots" was Evie's first full subject-verb-noun sentence uttered last night at the dinner table. And I don't even think that Daddy was the culprit- it was Eve. That time, at least.
Eve is changing by leaps and bounds. Almost as much as she's trying to leap. And bound. She has no fear. She climbs her crib, removes items from bookshelves so she can climb them - then gets stuck and yells "UH OH!" until we come in and rescue her. She tosses herself on the floor, then giggles and gets up to do it again. Her head is a mess of bruises all the time. She steals Josie's pajamas before she has a chance to put them on, giggling like a mad-woman the whole time, and runs through the house, hoping to be chased. She actually runs everywhere, now that I think about it. This adorable, tiny little body, just sprinting from place to place. And I'm holding my breath the entire time because at any moment, she's sure to trip or stumble or ram her head into the wall. She's struggling with the last of her molars - she's been a little extra grumpy and unfortunately, Jo sometimes takes the brunt of her ill temper. And we've had a few extra-fun diapers, too. The doctor was able to see that one of the stubborn molars was about half-way in during her 18-month visit - but I can't get in there to get a progress report without losing a finger. Hopefully once they're in, she'll sleep a little better and be all sweetness, again.
She hasn't come out of her daddy phase, yet. I can't look at her, or touch her, or her blankey during the nighttime rituals. It's all Daddy. If he's gone, and she doesn't have a choice, then I will do. But certainly not if "M'Daddy" is an option.
She's talking. A lot. "Look, Look!" When she finishes her cereal. She can identify most animals, and "sing" a few songs. She'll repeat just about anything you ask her to try to say. Or anything she overhears. Like when she was yelling "Farts!" for 20 minutes the other day after Pat bumped his knee or something getting in the car.
She gives kisses, but they have to be done her way. On the lips, not too messy - and no cheeks. If you turn your head so she has to kiss you on the cheek, she'll get mad, grab your face and turn it so she can kiss you on the lips.
No one can make her laugh like her sister. It's one of the most awesome things in the world right now to hear those two playing and laughing together. There is a distinct belly laugh that Josie manages to get out of Eve that no one else can.
I have to admit that Eve has challenged us in ways that I couldn't even imagine over the last 19 months. It hasn't been easy. I have to constantly remind myself that we wouldn't have been given something that we couldn't handle, and that she was sent to us for a reason. To learn to pull patience from places deep down inside, to ask for help, to throw expectations out the window and learn to be present in each day, and to remember that tomorrow is a new one. There are days when I'm not sure I'm going to survive, when I'm pretty sure my eardrums are going to explode and my brains are going to ooze out. But then she says "Look!" and does something miraculous like putting her spoon on top of her head and giving this smirk that only she is capable of - because balancing a spoon on top of your head is the most miraculous thing in the entire world. And then things don't seem so bad. And on those eardrum popping days, I thank God that I went to a particular house party in Winona in January of 1995. I don't know how I would ever do it without you, Chip.
Eve is changing by leaps and bounds. Almost as much as she's trying to leap. And bound. She has no fear. She climbs her crib, removes items from bookshelves so she can climb them - then gets stuck and yells "UH OH!" until we come in and rescue her. She tosses herself on the floor, then giggles and gets up to do it again. Her head is a mess of bruises all the time. She steals Josie's pajamas before she has a chance to put them on, giggling like a mad-woman the whole time, and runs through the house, hoping to be chased. She actually runs everywhere, now that I think about it. This adorable, tiny little body, just sprinting from place to place. And I'm holding my breath the entire time because at any moment, she's sure to trip or stumble or ram her head into the wall. She's struggling with the last of her molars - she's been a little extra grumpy and unfortunately, Jo sometimes takes the brunt of her ill temper. And we've had a few extra-fun diapers, too. The doctor was able to see that one of the stubborn molars was about half-way in during her 18-month visit - but I can't get in there to get a progress report without losing a finger. Hopefully once they're in, she'll sleep a little better and be all sweetness, again.
She hasn't come out of her daddy phase, yet. I can't look at her, or touch her, or her blankey during the nighttime rituals. It's all Daddy. If he's gone, and she doesn't have a choice, then I will do. But certainly not if "M'Daddy" is an option.
She's talking. A lot. "Look, Look!" When she finishes her cereal. She can identify most animals, and "sing" a few songs. She'll repeat just about anything you ask her to try to say. Or anything she overhears. Like when she was yelling "Farts!" for 20 minutes the other day after Pat bumped his knee or something getting in the car.
She gives kisses, but they have to be done her way. On the lips, not too messy - and no cheeks. If you turn your head so she has to kiss you on the cheek, she'll get mad, grab your face and turn it so she can kiss you on the lips.
No one can make her laugh like her sister. It's one of the most awesome things in the world right now to hear those two playing and laughing together. There is a distinct belly laugh that Josie manages to get out of Eve that no one else can.
I have to admit that Eve has challenged us in ways that I couldn't even imagine over the last 19 months. It hasn't been easy. I have to constantly remind myself that we wouldn't have been given something that we couldn't handle, and that she was sent to us for a reason. To learn to pull patience from places deep down inside, to ask for help, to throw expectations out the window and learn to be present in each day, and to remember that tomorrow is a new one. There are days when I'm not sure I'm going to survive, when I'm pretty sure my eardrums are going to explode and my brains are going to ooze out. But then she says "Look!" and does something miraculous like putting her spoon on top of her head and giving this smirk that only she is capable of - because balancing a spoon on top of your head is the most miraculous thing in the entire world. And then things don't seem so bad. And on those eardrum popping days, I thank God that I went to a particular house party in Winona in January of 1995. I don't know how I would ever do it without you, Chip.
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