Buying A Crib

Once upon a time, Andrew and I had a baby. The baby was so early that Andrew and I had purchased exactly nothing. Not a single item. When you have a baby that is born 14 weeks early, you also tend not to give a whole lot of thought to purchasing things while they are in the hospital fighting for their lives.

Nope.

So, when we finally got around to buying a crib, it was maybe a few weeks before Annabella would be coming home. We had been gathering tidbits from other parents, magazines, websites, nurses, and doctors about what we needed. Then the deciding factor: The neonatologist, Dr. Sunshine told us that we better get our act together because before long, our girl would be home.

When you go to buy a crib, be sure to give yourself 6 - 8 weeks lead time for delivery of the crib. When you don't have that kind of lead time, you find a specialty baby store with cribs in stock. These stores can be very hard to find, but they are out there.

Why, oh why, am I writing about a crib? Because the crib that we finally selected is now completing its circle of life, as Annabella's bed frame.

Yes, once our beautiful girl was done with the crib, and toddler bed, we moved her brother into the crib. Now that he is done with the toddler bed, Annabella gets a beautiful big girl bed, as she puts it.

In all seriousness, buying the convertible crib was the best furniture decision we've ever made. I highly recommend it.

Great Day

Almost by sheer force of will, it was a fantastic day today. Annabella was back at school. Redding had a great time at the Y. I got to go to yoga. We even made some yummy minty cookies to decorate. All good stuff.

Realizing that I haven't put up any new pictures lately, I had to come up with a post today, just to get this one up.

I freakin' love my kids.

Out of the Mouths of Moms

The last week has presented certain challenges. There's the trauma of having a child hospitalized. There's the lack of sleep for worrying and cries of, "Mom!" in the night. There's the constant nagging to get fluids into your child.

All that. But none of those begins to touch on the challenges faced by Redding. First, his sister gets loads of attention. She's got mom and dad following her around with bowls, towels, cool cloths for her head... Loads of medicine and tons of sippees of juice, ice water, Gatorade, Pedialyte, anything she will drink. Redding wants a bowl for in his bed. He wants "puffers" like Annabella's. He wants a sippee, which thankfully he can have. He wants whatever she is getting.

So Friday morning, I called the grandparents to enlist assistance in watching Red while I took Annabella to the pediatrician. Poppa was at our house a few hours later and Bel and I were off. Red wanted to see the doctor. I figure, why take a healthy child into the waiting room full of miserable illness?

The doctor briefly examined my normally perky girl. Based on her coloring, lethargy, tender abdomen and the fact that she hadn't kept much down in 2 days, she sent us to the hospital for IV fluids to treat severe dehydration.

So, we stopped home to pick up some necessities. Poppa was out shoveling the driveway and Red was out with him, playing on a sled. I was already weepy over putting Bel into the hospital. I was overwhelmed with gratitude to find Red happy as a clam and my driveway being cleared. Then I had to humbly ask what he had planned for the rest of the afternoon, as I had to go put my girl... And the tears flowed.

Redding winds up spending the rest of the day with Poppa and Gragra at our house, then going to their house for dinner and a sleepover. He gets all the attention of two very doting grandparents. But there's a problem. He doesn't understand why Sissy gets to go to the doctor, to the hospital, gets medicine, etc. Poor guy. Plus he's missing Annabella, Mom and Dad. Poor, poor sweet boy.

Saturday evening Annabella got to come home, but wasn't very interactive with Red. Still she's getting lots of attention and fussing over. Medicine, puffers, all that jazz.

Sunday night at dinner we were discussing how he'd been saying things all weekend like, "I hurt myself, I need to go to the hospital." And, forced, fake cough, cough "I'm sick, I need a puffer."

Annabella hops up from the dinner table with a panicked look on her face, shouting, "I have to go potty, NOW!" She races to the bathroom.

Redding is hot on her heels, "Oh! I have to go potty now, too!" Which is funny because he's not potty trained. He feels using the potty once a day before nap is plenty.

Someone commented that he just wants to have and do everything just like his big sister.

I replied, "Yeah, won't he be surprised when he gets his first period."

Soccer Mom

I just signed Annabella up for a short 3 week soccer clinic. If it goes well, she will join a local U8 soccer team and play a season from the end of April through the end of June. There are two evenings a week, one for practice, one for a game.

You may be witnessing the birth of a soccer mom. Now, will I have to trade in my (RECALLED!?!?!!!) Matrix for a minivan?

Out of the Mouths of Babes

So, we're sitting there, having some lunch today. The whole gang of us.

Annabella slammed most of her lunch, then asked for another hot dog. Once she got it, the whole tone of lunch changed.

She grasped it firmly by one end. She then extended her arm out over the table. "Guess what this means?"

To which I clasped my hand over my mouth, not wanting to hazard a guess.

"It means yes. And this," she exclaimed, turning it downward, "means no."

Generally Andrew and I murmured something to the affirmative, but avoided each other's eyes. Once I did make eye contact with Andrew, I couldn't help but stifle a giggle.

Giggling in the 6 year old vernacular means "please do that again and again, ad nauseum." That had to be avoided at all costs.

Once I looked back at Annabella I found myself saying, without even having to think first, "Please stop rubbing that on your face."

To which, she quickly held it out toward me and pronounced, "It doesn't even hurt!"

Annabella Talk

Me: Annabella, how was your day today?

Bel: Great. Sheldon [If you need someone to do your taxes, Sheldon's your guy.] gave me a starburst.
Me: At lunch?

Bel: No, I did eat all my red peppers at lunch though.

Me: You got red bell peppers in your school PB&J lunch?

Bel: Yes. And the starburst was red, too.

Me: OK, so you ate that after you had lunch?

Bel: No, he gave it to me on the playground and no one even noticed. Isn't that great?

(My daughter is sneaking candy on the playground, better yet she's doing sneaky things on the playground, with a BOY. Alarm, alarm, danger Will Robinson.)

Me: That's really interesting.

Bel: And I game my neighbor Dion [also a boy] a quarter.

Me: Why did you do that, did he ask?

Bel: No, I just though he'd like that.

(Awesome, so she's being sneaky with one boy and slipping another one money for no reason. FANTASTIC!)

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Annabella brought home a book from the school library about Giant Pandas. We got done reading it tonight and she says, "Mom, how could people kill pandas?" I shook my head sadly and said, "I don't know, babe." To which she replied, "Maybe with an ax?"

Cookie Time!

I have some serious helpers. They love to help me decorate.

The health department has determined that the cookies decorated by my children should stay within our home. You're welcome.

Happy Thanksgiving 2009!

Frankenstein

Over dinner this evening, with her new craft project (a Frankenstein windsock) hanging from the light fixture, Annabella asked me to tell her the story of Frankenstein.

Through much stumbling and gleaning of information, it seems that her teacher had told them a little of the story. Because every time I thought I was done, she'd tell me to keep going.

She didn't care that it was a scary story. She was adamant that she must hear it and that she could handle it.

"Frankenstein is a made up story, written a long, long time ago by a woman named Mary Shelley."

"Frankenstein is dead now."

"Frankenstein never lived, so could not be dead now. He does not exist."

"OK."

"In the book a doctor goes crazy and decides to try and build the perfect person."

"What does he build it out of?"

Trying desperately to avoid this subject, I redirect. "I don't know sweetie, if you were going to build the perfect person, what would you use?"

"Hmmm... I don't know. (She dithers for a while and finally grows tired of this subject.) Then what happens?"

"The doctor realizes that Frankenstein is not perfect and he is not happy about it. He stops taking care of him."

"How was he not perfect?"

Pointing to the windsock, I said, "Well, look at him. For one thing, he's green. Most people are not green. Also, he has bolts holding his head on. That's kind of weird. So he wanders away and finds a real friend. Someone who likes him just the way he is."

"But when does he get beat up?"

"What do you mean?"

"My teacher said people beat him up, that's why he has stitches..."

I think I like this teacher. I know, it's odd. But I guess I'd much rather have a teacher tell my child Frankenstein got beaten up, that's why he has stitches. Rather than have her tell them that he's made up of sewn together corpse pieces. "Oh, right, before he finds his friend, after he leaves the doctor, he wanders into a village. The people there are frightened of him, because he looks so different, and they are mean to him and chase him out of town."

"After they beat him up."

"Yes, after they beat him up."

"Then he makes a real friend, right?"

"Yes, then he makes a real friend."

"Then what else happens?"

"You know, I'm not entirely sure how the story ends."

She accepted that answer and moved on to, "How much more dinner do I have to eat to get a piece of the candy from the Halloween party at school?"

But, yes, kids. In my world Frankenstein is about a poor misunderstood creature who finally finds a true friend. A story that tells you that being a real friend means liking someone just the way they are. Not about a freak of nature, created by a monster, who has so little humanity to explore that he winds up destroying his only true friend and then his creator.

And they all lived happily ever after.

Pumpkin Patch Day! Yippee!

It was a beautiful day to be out looking for the perfect pumpkins. We waited and waited for one that was not snowy, rainy, grey, or too cold. We got just what we wanted.

(Yes, that is Annabella lurking in the back of the photo of Redding.)

More photos Here .

Happy Halloween!

The Message Received

Just got back from parent-teacher conferences for Annabella. First grade seems to be going well.

She had some trouble learning tally marks though, and when her teacher talked to her about it she said, "My mother says I'm not like everyone else, so I don't have to do things exactly like everyone else."

Uh, no, that is not exactly what I said. But you just gotta love that fighting spirit. Unless you are her 1st grade teacher.

Just Like Me

Annabella has always been a very physically active child. Strangers everywhere across this nation have remarked that if they could "bottle just half that energy" they could be rich or better yet, enjoy the kind of positive outlook Annabella has.

Having been present for every one of her physical therapy sessions, having literally worked with her on building strength in her legs on countless playgrounds, and having gotten over a little of my own fear of horses to take her to hippotherapy, I am acutely aware of when she falls down.

Over the years I have begun to think that she falls only a little more often than most children. I wonder sometimes if it is because of the way her muscles developed due to her prematurity, if perhaps she just inherited a bit of clumsiness from her mom, or even if she just falls a bit more often because she is in perpetual motion. More movements overall lead to a greater number of falls, if not an overall greater proportion.

Most of the time I am able to look at any guilt I have over her prematurity and shake my head and push it away. The cause of preeclampsia and HELLP Syndrome are unknown, so 90% of the time I let myself off the hook. The lack of coordination? That is all me. I have long had such a strong tendency to run into things that someone once said to me, "It's as if your brain has no idea where your body is."

I think I was hurt at the time, but it is quite accurate. I trip walking up stairs that I walk daily. I miss obvious visual cues that tell others to step over things. That is just me.

Annabella? Most of the time she likes to do her own thing. I try not to tell her she is just like me. Just as I don't want to put the limit or excuse of her prematurity on her, I also don't want to lead her to believe that my life is all that there is in the world for her.

Then, while I'm deep in a spiral of this circuitous thinking, over analyzing and fretting, Annabella walks into the kitchen. Utterly unaware of what I am doing, I continue as I say, "Hey sweetie, what's up?"

Her eyes are popping and she's stopped dead in her tracks, "MOMMY! How do you do that? Can I try?"

I am standing at the counter, cutting carrots with the sharpest paring knife in the house. Against my thumb. Over and over the paring knife goes through the carrot, stopping before it hits my thumb and the carrot slice falls into the bowl.

Looking down I realize what I'm doing and I start to explain that it is dangerous. I get out a cuttingboard so that I can show her the right way, but she's not interested in the right way. And now I'm getting annoyed because the stupid carrot pieces are rolling all over the place. The moment is lost, she's already moved on to something else. I start to think that maybe next time I'll ask her to cut them for me, using a cuttingboard of course.

The real point is that I need to be living in, present in, and focused on right now. The things I am doing at any given moment. Then maybe I won't fall down so much.

Down To My Very Foundation

Like it or not, as a parent you are your child's first Philosophy professor. Whether you talk about ideas and life and big pictures or not, you communicate to them about how life is, how things work, how to be in the world.

Then they go off to school and get all kinds of other messages. Not a bad thing, all in all. But certainly something that opens your eyes to the messages you send.

Annabella opened up this conversation when she was done eating dinner, waiting for dessert, the day Andrew left on his trip. "Mom, what happens when we die?"

Yep.

So I started in with how different people believe different things. The concept of heaven, reincarnation, themes of rejoining our ancestors...

Then, in a complete surprise to me, after listening patiently to all this, she says, "No, Mom, what REALLY happens?"

To which I could only reply, "Nobody knows, honey. That's why so many different cultures around the world have spent so much time thinking about it. Everyone would like to know, but nobody really does."

"Believing something that you can't prove or know for sure, that's called faith."

I know I had a similar conversation with my mom. She being raised Catholic had no trouble giving me a firm answer. No maybe's. Maybe my mother is where my belief in a higher power came from. Probably. But my own dismay at organized religion of any stripe is entirely my own.

So, I'm a free-form deist married to an avowed athiest. Teaching a mini-course, ad hoc, on comparative religion.

"But what do YOU think happens Mom?"

"Well, as I said, I don't know for sure. I like the idea of reincarnation a lot. First, because it encourages us to have greater respect for all living things. Second, because life is so full of amazing things and people, we couldn't possibly understand or experience it all in just one lifetime."

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Annabella:
I love you, Redding! When we first got you, you were a teeny, tiny little baby!

Redding:
I know, Sissy. I know.

(An oldy, but a goody. Let your toddlers carefully hold your babies, with lots of helping hands and pillows around, so you can get a priceless shot like this.)

First Day of School - First Grade

Calm, cool, and collected. Annabella dazzled me this morning with her grown up ways.

She didn't complain when I woke her up. She didn't dawdle in the shower. She didn't wake up her brother. She picked her breakfast quickly and ate it even quicker. She finished her milk without complaint. Annabella was a delight this morning and seemed really excited to start school.

(Whoa! Flashback to last year, first day of Kindergarten.)

Outside for the traditional shots at the mailbox...

Was she nervous about starting a new school? No, but she did mention that she would miss Gilead at school today. Was she bugged that she wasn't taking the bus? Nope. Did she mind that she had to walk all the way from the road to the school? Not one bit. In fact, she insisted on going it alone.

My baby girl is growing up so fast.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Annabella: "Gold is the most American color."

Happy Birthday Annabella!

I can't believe my sweet baby girl turns 6 years old today. She continues to amaze me every day. Her growth and development over the last 6 years is almost enough to eclipse the rough start she had. Every year it gets harder and harder to imagine that there was a time when we couldn't get any kind of input or guarantee from a doctor about what kind of life, abilities, or issues she would face as she got older and somehow miraculously continued to grow from her original 1.5 lbs.

Yesterday we enjoyed having some friends and family over. It was a very relaxed kids birthday party. No clowns, no jumpers, no ponies. Just a little over a dozen guests (including adults), a bunch of regular balloons blown up, a ribbon pinata, a home made cake, and some fairly healthy snacks on a little buffet.

Annabella LOVES her gifts. She got a V-Smile, lots of craft stuff, a Dora slip and slide she can't wait to try, a cool new game, and puppies for her pockets. Andrew and I got her a sweet Schwinn bike with training wheels that she likewise can't wait to try. Soon, very soon.

Happy Birthday Sweet Girl!

Bock Bock

As you are probably aware, Annabella hates chicken. She flies into hysterics when she is faced with the prospect of eating chicken.

Over the last few years I've worn her down to the point where she'll eat an occasional "nugget" and even a chicken nugget at school, because her friends all like them. She might even take a bite of stir fry and eat a tiny piece of chicken that happens to sneak in.

Yesterday at the grocery store ground chicken was on sale, for much less than the cost of ground turkey. Needless to say, I loaded up and plotted tacos, chili, meatballs, burgers, the works.

For dinner last night I made tacos. Annabella ate 2, which is rare. Even more rare? She raved, on and on, about how yummy the taco meat was. How juicy and delicious.

I wanted with all my heart to tell her that it was ground chicken. But I could not. You know why? Because the meals listed above, made from ground meat, are among the few eaten in peace with everyone at the table happy. Not even gloating can get me to throw that away.

Olfactory Memories

Just after nap today, Annabella came down stairs looking all bleary eyed and fuzzy. She actually slept at nap time, which is rare these days.

I asked her if she wanted a snuggle and she came over and puckered up. "No, not a kiss or even a hug, I asked if you would like a snuggle."

So she pulled herself in real close and I buried my face in her neck and I was dumb struck. "Andrew, smell her neck, right here."

She loved this attention and quickly ran over to her dad. He took a big, deep whiff of her thin little neck. Head tilted to the side, her bobbed hair dangling akimbo. Andrew looked nostalgic a moment, then he announced, "She smells like the hospital."

Not exactly, but right where I was going. You see, our girl has been boycotting the bathtub in favor of enjoying her space and her things, video games and other such things. Not that I've ever been one to bathe her every day anyway. But I digress...

Her little unwashed neck and hair smell just, JUST, well, exactly the way she used to smell when she was too new to be washed very often.

And given the volume of people I've been talking to lately about her birth, her time in the hospital, or even just how very fortunate we all are to be where we are in our lives right now...

Well, it was really amazingly sweet. As that is the closest I'll ever get to having a new baby of mine again.

Is it me?

If I ever wonder aloud how I got such a Pollyanna child, remind me that I almost started crying while coaching my daughter how to be tough this morning.

In fact, I did start crying when asking one of the teenage counselors to watch out for the bullying. But not until I was walking away.

Avoiding blaming the victim at all costs, but encouraging my girl to stand up for herself is hard, OK? I kept making suggestions and all she would say was, "Mom, I don't want to hurt his feelings."

The fact that he's hurting hers? That doesn't seem to matter so much. Except that she mentioned possibly not going back to camp today. Grrr!!!

Finally, I got her to agree to say, with force, "If you can't be nice, you can't be my friend."

Let's hope that helps.

Now, really, who's surprised I'm entrusting my $1.25 million former micro-preemie to teenage YMCA counselors anyway? I know I am! Not that there's anything wrong with them, just that I am a freak.

Kindergarten Graduate

There was singing and pageantry. Though much of it was lost on the kids, there was nary a dry adult eye in the place.

Like her big cousins, graduating from high school, Annabella decorated her cap.

She read us books while we waited, belted out the songs her class sang, and stood proud when she got her diploma. Movies to follow.

Her art display definitely made her feel the most proud.

All in all, an amazing year of growth for our girl. Though she learned to be a little more still, and to pay attention lest she miss out on something, her open and friendly demeanor was completely undaunted. She reads, she adds, she subtracts, and she keeps everyone on their toes. My girl makes me proud.

Dreaming

In our latest round of "What School Should Bel Attend?" I was struck with one thought. Part of me would love to put her in front of Sponge Bob for hours a day. Let her eat nothing but junk, never read a non-fiction book, buy her every 'of the moment' outfit and accessory, fill her ears with Hannah Montana, and never ever talk about the real world.

The goal of which being? Part of me longs for her to have a life of the carefree masses. The ones who think our politicians vote representing the constituents who elected them. The ones who don't think lobbyists make a mockery of the concept of 'greater good'. The ones who think our planet is not in trouble. The ones who don't recycle, save water or energy, and feel nothing as they toss yards of plastic wrap in landfills every day. The ones who think we have a strong justice system. The ones who think, or rather the ones who don't think. Not often and not for themselves.

Then again, I don't think even aggressive attempts to turn my girl into a flibbertigibbet would make a difference in the end. She's pretty smart and tuned-in for a 5 year old. She finds her own humor and lightness in the world, drawing it out literally from the people around her.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Last night while Annabella was settling in to go to sleep we had a little talk that we have sometimes. I like to call it, "What did people do before they had..."

Last night Annabella asked me some interesting ones, but what was really fun were the answers she gave me when I asked her.

What did people use before they had cell phones?

Candle stick phones. And she pantomimed the old fashioned phones on the wall where you talk into the mouthpiece on the box and hold the round piece to your ear.

What did people use before they had tissues?

Their sleeves.

She's got that right. I think when I was her age, I used nothing but my sleeves...

It Figures, Right?

I hand Annabella some bubble wrap, which she's been begging for, so she can pop it. How many seconds does it take for my girl to put it over her head? Less than 30. How long did it take Redding to follow suit? About 10 seconds after she handed it to him, because I told her to get it off her head. Clearly, my children can not be trusted to make their own good choices.

A Pledge

I pledge allegiance to the flag of the United States of America...

And to the republic,
Of da widget stands

One nation

Under guard

And invisible

With liberty and Justins for all.

Pardon the mess. Yes, I let the kids destroy the family room with toys and taking all the cushions off the couches. I'm crazy like that, especially when I'm sick.

Here Come the Bugs...

They kids have been super healthy since late December. I kid you not. OK, maybe since January. Annabella had only missed one day of school all year!

Last night when we got home, Bel was complaining of a headache again, as she had been for much of the weekend. Only now she had a fever to go with it. Not to be outdone, Reddings clear drippy nose which we thought may be due to allergies, has gotten much stuffier and now he's got a fever too.

Plus, with the warmer weather, we've already experienced, in our own home: ants, ladybugs, (more) spiders, and 2, yes 2, centipedes. AWESOME Next thing you know the mosquitoes and ticks will be poppin'! Woo hooooooooo!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Andrew was helping Annabella get her shoes on to go to the Y for yoga class with me this morning.

Annabella brought Andrew a shoe and mumbled something.

He said, "These are called knots."

Annabella said, "I call them loopy tits."

Half Way

It is half way through Spring break and I just figured out that if I leave the children to their own devises and just, say, vacuum...

They will actually play with the toys they have. Together. Happily.

Instead of following me around asking me to put on a movie.

Yahoo!!!

Apparently there is something to be said for occasionally ignoring your children a little.

New 'Do

I've been asking Annabella for about 3 years if she'd like to get her hair cut. Not so much. Andrew suggested that maybe she'd like to get a Princess Haircut last week and BAM

Naturally, she wanted to talk about it before she went. She's seen Andrew come home from the barber many times. He definitely gets his hair cut more often than I do. So Bel had lots of questions about the barber who would cut her hair.

I made a comment that since we would go to a kids salon, it would more likely be a stylist than a barber that would cut her hair. Somehow in her mind they combined. Annabella? Yeah, she gets her hair cut by a bar-brist. Ask her, she'll tell you.

We found a very reasonably priced, locally owned salon that caters to families. As you can see they have a lot of tchotchkes for the kids, Hannah Montanna free demo DVDs, ring pops, hair adornments, kids books, chairs that look like carousel horses, oh and the movie "Wall-E" playing. That's why her eyes were not focused on me taking her picture in the above final shot.

But here she is! Her first clean-cut, professional hairdo. She could not be happier and she definitely looks a little less like a feral child these days. Everyone wins.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Annabella spotted the US flag on our way home from the Y today. Which reminded me that she had told me that they say the "Pledge of Allegiance" every Monday at school.

There is no time in every other day kindergarten it seems.

Recess is once a day. The pledge is once a week. Times do change, don't they?

Anyhow, I started reciting it from memory for the first time in years, and Annabella stopped me and corrected me.

"It's one nation, under guard and invisible, mom!"

Clearly she learned this during the Bush administration?

From the Other Room

"Call 911, I need help now... watering can, stuck to my head!!!"

Our girl. She's got such the flair for the drama.

Conferences

Last night we went to have a conference with Annabella's teacher. She is a very likable person. Annabella likes her a lot. I like her. I think Andrew likes her just fine.

We have a pleasant time when meeting with her. But I'm always left wondering a little just what child shows up at school. Surely not my child.

When the teacher says, "We'd like the kids to be able to count backward from 20 by the end of the year." I smile and nod. Hopefully I don't make the, "Are you kidding me?" face, because I've heard her do that, at least once when she was 3. Then I get home and ask her, and she does it, without help, correctly.

She was tested on her number knowledge, she missed 14. She said forty instead of 14. She's expected to know up through 30 by the end of the year. Yeah, she can read and write numbers up through 100. Probably higher, we've never tried that with her. Oh yeah, she can add, too.

She pointed out that Annabella had trouble remembering to point to the first letter in the word she doesn't know. Apparently that is the required step before they sound out the word. She noted though that Annabella could easily sound out a 3 or 4 letter word, because she knows her letter sounds so well. But she loses points because she doesn't point.

Actually, she can sound out 7 or 8 letter words and frequently does when she reads with me. Am I concerned about this arbitrary requirement? Not so much. Does that make me a bad mom?

Well here's the thing. Am I bad if I reinforce disrespect for arbitrary requirements? Clearly my child doesn't need to point to read or sound out difficult words. So...

Yeah, I guess I'll remind her, now that I know the rule. But really? I don't care.

Elefun

The kids have this new game. Where they take the nets from Elefun and run around and around with them on their heads. Very funny.

Surely this can't even be safe. Yet, somehow they are so overcome with glee, I can't seem to bring myself to stop them.

Is It Any Wonder?

Would anyone be surprised to hear that Annabella ate a chocolate chip cookie that was bigger than her entire head?

It will surprise no one to hear that after eating a fairly decent dinner last night, Annabella asked for dessert. We were at her Grandma and Poppa's house, the land of dessert.

It may surprise a few to hear that in addition to her dinner and the chocolate chip cookie bigger than her head, she had a cup of vanilla ice cream with sprinkles. Not 2 hours later she was ready for another sweet treat in the car on the way home. Her 'secret' treat she gets from Grandma every Sunday night.

The wonder is that Annabella is still not quite back up to the 45 lbs. she weighed at her 5 year old check up. School just takes it right out of her.

Out of the Mouths of Babes, Friday TwoFer

Driving home from the Y, Dire Straits "So Far Away" came on the radio.

"Who is he so far away from, Mommy?" Annabella wonders out loud.

"I'm not sure, babe, who do you think?"

"Must be someone he loves. Like how we're so far away from Auntie Tammie, Uncle Joe, Kayla and Bailey. They're really far away. I remember them from vacation."

Guess what? Tearing up in a car and close-fitting sunglasses that have been sitting out in 14 degree weather? Yeah, they tend to fog up, and that my friends will reduce your visibility every time.

Love to all our family in California, even if you are currently in New Orleans.

Cuteness

Annabella running around the house, having a pretend phone conversation. "What? Really? You don't say! Go on... No! Are you sure?"

Suddenly she tells her caller that she has to go. Her phone then rings and she chases her brother in no less than three circuits through the kitchen, dining room, living room, entry, kitchen, etc. telling him that the phone is for him.

Such shocking news, I don't think I'd want to take that call, either!

Dear Children,

While I dearly love you and am personally amazed by your continued development and achievements every day, I need to impart some wisdom.

Saying what you want, over and over, does not get you closer to getting what you want. If Mama is busy or otherwise in the middle of something and has said, "Just a minute..." or "I hear you, you need to wait." or even, "I'm sorry, I don't know what you're talking about."

Yeah, that doesn't mean that you need to say it exactly the same way over again, only louder and more agitated.

Until this morning, I thought you got this trait from your father. It's true, I do love Andrew, but he sometimes has trouble restating so that we can understand him.

But no. This morning, trying to get you two monkeys ready to go to the gym, with appropriate gear, a modicum of cleanliness, and all wrapped up in -14 appropriate coat/hat/mittens/boots... I had an epiphany.

I do it. I tell you to do something over and over getting louder and more agitated each time. I think it has something to do with not having any kind of bargaining chip when it comes to Redding. You can't make a deal, you can't threaten, you can't even really cajole. This kid will do what he wants when he is good and ready.

Mama is going to learn some new strategies, and then I'm going to teach you. Then we can all live together in peace and harmony. Or at least a little less repetitive escalating agitation.

Love,
Mama

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Among the cutest things I ever heard, Annabella and Redding running around playing when she home from school yesterday.

"I love you, buddy, I love YOU!" She says as she chases him around the living room.

"Who's a cutie? You're a cutie boy!" As they do another lap. All the while Red giggles.

"You're my best brother!" Another lap, giggling and panting ensues.

"I sure missed you at school today." Again they go around. He missed her, too, asked for her all day.
"Sissy? Sissy? Sissy?"

"I don't know what I'd do without you!" Then my heart melted. I think she must have picked that one up from her grandparents. Melt, melt melt.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

A two-fer treat, since there was no movie on Friday.

Last night Andrew was playing Guitar Hero, the original, which he got for his birthday from the kids. Annabella was dancing and enjoying the music. She did a really high kick as part of her dance and I said, "Wow! That was a really amazing kick!"

She came over, got right up in my face and whispered, "I know Kung-Fu."

I could hardly contain my giggle fit.

Now, the other present the kids got Andrew was a book of "fiendish" Sudoku. Andrew unwraps it, says, "Wow! This is great!" and then shows it to Annabella. He then asks, "Do you know what this is?"

Without skipping a beat, and with a note of the painfully obvious in her voice, my girl says, "It's a book."

Yep. That's my girl.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

So, we're driving in the car today. We went to Target to pick up a few stray items.

Annabella said she wanted hotdogs for lunch. I said, "That sounds good, everyone loves hotdogs."

She said, "Except parents."

I was surprised to hear that. It's true, Andrew and I don't eat as many hotdogs as the kids. So I shot back,"We like them just fine, we just don't want them as often as you and your brother do."

She said, "Unless they are chili-dogs."

Called out. Like that. I was so surprised, "I said you're pretty observant, you know that?"

"Mom, what's observant?"

"Well, that means that you notice things, you see or hear things, and they mean something to you, so you remember them. Like how you noticed and remembered that Dad and I like chili-dogs."

"I remember lots of things."

"You sure do."

"I remember when we first went to Aptos."

"Really? You know, you were just a tiny baby when we first took you to Aptos, to Auntie Tammie and Uncle Joe's house, and the beach there."

"I miss it."

"I know you do, sweetie. I miss it, too. Sometimes I miss it real bad." Yes, that is what I really said. Now, wait for it...

"Me, too, Mom. Sometimes I miss it very badly."

And that's how she rolls. My 5 year old has better grammar than I do.

Dis Gus Ting

Annabella is picking up words like crazy. Today she asked me what disgusting means. I said, "Well, when something is really, really, really yucky, it's disgusting."

Her dad threw in, "Yeah, like playing with your poop is disgusting."

I added, "Iew, that is disgusting. You would never do something like that, would you, Bel?"

She smiled a sheepish grin and may have even blushed a little, as she said, "Well, only sometimes."

Now that is disgusting. Good thing she's an excellent hand washer.

Sick or Healthy

My kids are all smiles...

Red is just glad that Stonyfield Farms came out with soy yogurt.

Annabella is happy about her new hat and books from Auntie Tammie.

Together they are just giddy all the time, practically.

I am one lucky woman.

Junie B. Are You Kidding Me?

The last several mornings before school, Annabella has complained over breakfast that her stomach hurt.

Kindergarten has been an adjustment, to say the least. For us, as much as for her.

Now, she's complained about a couple boys in her class who bug her. Mostly what I can get out of her stories is that these boys get up in her face and she's just not happy about that. Whether they are doing it to intimidate her or just be close to her, I'm not sure. I don't think she's too sure either.

They've had lots of talks the last few weeks about feelings. How to handle anger, how to handle conflict. Things like that. Which is good. It's a little wild for your kid to suddenly burst into tears after you say something, only to follow it up with, "You crumpled my heart, you used unkind words."

Now, before you get all gooey eyes about how I'm abusing my daughter, you should know that based on her understanding of the concept from school, anything I say to her that she doesn't want to hear is using unkind words. Things like, "Please go wash your hands before lunch." Or wicked nastiness like, "Stop taking things away from your brother."

So, with all this interesting emotional stuff going on at school, we were a little concerned that she keeps getting herself all worked up in the morning.

After an interesting round about conversation with her Dad, Annabella finally told us what it is that is going on at school that is "making her stomach squeezy."

Her teacher has been reading the class a chapter book. Junie B. Jones and the Stupid, Smelly Bus.

The things that go on in the book are so new, so different for her, that she can hardly take it. Just the title alone, the use of the word stupid, makes her stomach feel squeezy. Even the word smelly is kind of a problem.

I'm not kidding. We have done a lot over the years to shield Annabella from the harshness of the world. So much so that she's having a bit of discomfort adjusting to being around kids who are not so sheltered.

She has come to grips with the fact that the other kids in her class don't always talk nice, like we talk at home. But the shock of hearing those words come out of her (perfect, amazing, wonderful) teacher's mouth is almost too much to take.

Out of the Mouths of Halloween Babes

Mom, where's your costume?

You're looking at it. [Purple shirt, black jeans]

No! A costume is something that's... Creepy or beautiful. You don't have that.

Things I never Thought I'd say over and over

Your brother is a person, not a toy.

He is a sentient being, and he does not have to hold your hand if he doesn't want to.

He's not a toy, he gets to make his own choices about how he spends his time.

Hunting Pumpkins 2008

It was a beautiful crisp fall day. The kids were exceptionally well behaved. The pumpkins were plentiful and Grandma was buying. With smiles like that to warm your day what could possibly be amiss?

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Annabella has just discovered the wonderful work of Nick Junior online. But somehow we were having trouble getting the Dora Pumpkin Carving game to work. Andrew decided to go elsewhere online to find a pumpkin carving game for her. He did, oh boy, did he. He didn't check it out first, but just set her free with it.

Annabella followed the instructions, picking her pattern, then took the flash knife to start carving. Once the knife made contact with the pumpkin it turned all ghoulish, and the eyeballs popped out, and blood splattered, and a very scary scream...

"Wow, that really blew my mind out."

You can say that again. Note to self, preview new online games before giving the girl free reign.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

At dinner this evening I said to Andrew, "Did you hear that they're making another 'Pirates of the Caribbean' movie?"

Annabella's ears perked up, "What? They're making a pirate movie with Care Bears?" She could not be more thrilled.

Just When I Thought It Was Safe

I may have mentioned this a time or 10,000,000, but I never imagined I'd be able to stay home with my children. If I had any children. It never seemed like something that would happen.

Circumstances really dictated that one of us being home with the kids would be optimal for us. First because we couldn't go anywhere, next because when we finally got out Annabella picked up every germ known to man. Or so we thought. Then Redding came along and although the doctors did suggest we sequester him for a year or so also, we decided to just play it by ear.

As it turns out, any germ, virus, bacteria, or common childhood disease that Annabella didn't pick up, Redding did. We went through Fifth Disease and Hand Foot Mouth Disease last Summer and Fall like they were going out of style. We've hit all the childhood illness hit parade except chicken pox, but with Annabella in school I'm sure it will be maybe another month at most before we have the pox and probably a lice scare.

But with time and exposure, even the earliest of preemies eventually builds a resistance to the common cold, right? Sure! With a fairly healthy Spring and a very healthy Summer under their belts, the kids stormed into the Fall cold and flu season with great vigor. Only to be knocked down by what is probably the flu. Or it started as the flu. It went to Red's ears and Bel's lungs like lightning. We canceled plans, kept Bel out of school, hunkered down, pushed fluids, took lots of tylenol, and did lots of inhaler treatments for Bel.

Here I'd been thinking it would be so easy to get freelance or part time work, put Redding into some kind of child care on the days Annabella is in school. All of a sudden I'd be inspired and meeting people, I'd be getting out of the house on my own on a regular basis. We'd have some extra income to do more projects around the house. You know, the usual completely idealized version of life that only exists in the fully deluded mind.

When all of a sudden -- BAM! Oh right. Yes, one of the reasons we didn't put the kids in childcare before? Because they'd hardly be there. Sick kids don't go to school and they don't go to daycare. And it's not really that my kids are necessarily more vulnerable, I don't think. It's that whatever they inevitably pick up hits them and hits them hard. It hangs on and turns into a secondary infection with amazing regularity.

Or, this could be just an extremely elaborate scheme to justify my serious addiction to Pinky Dinky Do, Super Why, hotdogs, apple juice, and goldfish crackers.

Pinehaven Farm Field Trip

This was a very fun day. A cute little farm with lots of friendly animals (and staff!). The kids each got to pick out their own pumpkin to take home, too. Even the tractor pulled wagon ride out to the pumpkin patch was fun.

My girl loves animals. Her particular favorite was the cow, because it tickled her fingers when she fed it.

Just 30 miles north of the Twin Cities, I highly recommend this place if you're looking for a fun fall activity for the family. You can check them out online, here.

Dress warm, bring a picnic if you like, and be sure to visit the playground.
Even the tractor pulled wagon ride out to the pumpkin patch was fun.

That's Entertainment

It's been a weird, busy week. No time to blog apparently.

Yesterday at her swim lesson, Annabella swam the length of the pool with a float belt on, all by herself. Making me cry at swim lessons. A year ago this kid was afraid of the water. Which just goes to show you, if you kid doesn't like swim lessons, change locations. Evil swim teachers should be drowned.

I had my first experience as a kindergarten volunteer parent. I went with the kids to a farm. With actual animals. Dozens of them, people. And I somehow managed to gracefully and without calling much attention to myself, well, I managed to not touch or feed any of the animals. I took lots of pictures for the yearbook. That's how I did it. And no one even blinked. Except the lady who worked there who really could not believe I did not want a cup of alfalfa to feed the animals. Donkeys, goats, chickens, horses, llamas, a deer, peacocks, cows, and more goats. Loads of goats.

Redding has been adding new words to his vocabulary like a wild man. Mostly around meal time. Olive, broccoli, popsicle. They don't always sound right, sometimes close enough, but it makes for much less yelling from Tyrant-a-saurus Red.

We're trying to plan a trip to a pumpkin patch to round out our pumpkin family. We'll decorate the house this weekend for Halloween. Maybe even carve the pumpkins since it is so chilly.

Next Friday Annabella is having a real Halloween party at school. (You just gotta love where we live for the fact that you can celebrate Halloween at school and the kids can eat all the peanut butter their little hearts desire.) And they'll be doing the traditional costume parade, which I will go photograph.

I can't wait.

Photos and movies coming later today. It's Friday, people. I gotta put up a movie.

This is only a test

On Monday there were drills run at Annabella's school. We received a recorded call from the principal over the weekend. I didn't hear it until Monday morning. Now you know how those things work in my house.

When Annabella got home from school, she told me they had done safety drills. I asked her how those worked. She enthusiastically told me about her teacher shutting the blinds, locking the door and all the kids lining up by their coat hooks.

"OK," I said, "then what happened?"

"The teacher told us to be very quiet. We had to be really quiet and still, so that if a dog or a puppy got into the school, it wouldn't be able to find us."

It's brilliant, right? You get the right effect without terrifying the children. I mean, do you really want to have to explain to your child that some day a psycho with a gun might get into their school? That the psycho might be another student?

The whole thing is just spirit crushing. I have about zero interest in home schooling. I think that children need to learn to socialize and get along in the world. Annabella has been more than adequately sheltered by me.

But this one idea. This one thought. Of the need for lock down drills. That might be enough to change my mind... And put both my children on permanent home lock down.

Perfect. A giant over complicated solution to a tragic problem.

Braggin' On My Girl

We had our first parent teacher conference of the year last night. It was very interesting.

The classroom is a nice place. Full of lots of engaging and educational things. The teacher is great, grounded, enthusiastic, very young, informed, and generally a lovely human being.

As for how Annabella is doing? Well, aside from still needing a bit of work on the fine motor skills, she essentially doesn't need the first half of kindergarten.

The teacher's goals for Annabella are: Learn letter sounds (which she didn't evaluate her for, because she knows them, forward, backward, inside out), reading strategies (this should prove useful, though I strongly suspect she is already reading), and eating more snack (and lunch).

Right. The curriculum is not exactly challenging at the moment for her, which has been good in that it has given her an opportunity to greatly improve her focus and attention, without having to worry about missing something. She is doing a much better job listening to instructions and staying on task, because she doesn't want to miss any fun. Maybe she won't even notice when the actual learning part kicks in and she'll still want to focus so she doesn't miss the fun. Here's hoping.

The fall skills checklist:
- Cutting and gluing - she's great at this now, thanks preschool.

- Coloring - Annabella now colors the whole pictures, different colors in the appropriate spot, this is something that just kicked in and took her interest right before school started.

- Printing name, using upper and lower case, in D'Nealian - It's sloppy, but it's the right letters, and her name is long, poor girl.

- Naming colors and shapes - since she was 2.

- Knowing left and right - now there's a tricky one. With her genetics on my side, she may never know this one for sure.

- Naming the days of the week - yep.

- Telling about your day at school - it may take her a while to get rolling, but once she does, look out!

- Sorting objects by color, shape, type - for more than 2 years now.

- Positional words: on, above, below, between, top, bottom, next to, inside, outside, over, under, beside, behind, and in front of - again, for years now.

Looking forward, they'll be sending home science books full of things that help your child explore the world around them in a science based way. Skimming the first book last night, I was struck by how many she's already done with us, in preschool, and with her friends and extended family.

CRAZY.

Now I'm asking myself if, once we get her excited to work on her penmanship and she begins reading in school, if maybe I should go ahead and get her going on first grade curriculum. That way she's sure to be challenged.

Who knows. All I know is, my girl is wicked smart.

And wicked tall. 93rd percentile for uncorrected age. Crazy.

Bad Swim Teacher

I've posted here a little about Annabella's last swim teacher and what a terrible woman she is. Well, last night was the clincher.

The kids and I were in the car, on our way to help Andrew pick up his car from the shop (it's almost 9 years old, I guess it is allowed to need its first repair). Annabella were talking about what we'd be doing today. To a coffee shop to hang out with some other moms and kids. And in the afternoon, she has her new swim lessons.

Annabella says, "I hope I don't die."

I was flabbergasted, "What in the world would make you say that?"

"My old swim teacher said that."

She never mentioned it at the time. No wonder she projected her fear of the swim lessons into a fear of bathrooms. I said, "Remember what we talked about? How nothing that lady did or said was nice or OK? Well that goes for this situation as well. Focus on your new swim teacher, she's great."

And she is. One more unfortunate example that even if you're as freaky overprotective as I am, you can't really stop your child from having bad experiences. I guess in the big picture that is how she'll grow. Sometimes through having good experiences, sometimes through having bad.

I really hate the bad.

Clothes Time

Annabella has been asserting her personhood for a long time. More recently that has come in the realm of picking out her own clothes.

This has presented some challenges. Mostly I pick out a couple outfit options for school and let her pick which one she wants to wear. On the weekends and days off, if it is seasonally appropriate, we let her do her own thing. Mostly.

There is just one little problem. Girls are mean. She is getting to the age when other children's clothes become the subject of snotty little girl ridicule. I hate that.

We're at a crossroads where I can try and teach her to think beyond what the masses think. Or I can help her fit in.

Looks like it may be time to have a talk and let her make the choice.

Happy Friday!

I have nothing funny or witty to say today.

Just go on over to Flickr and marvel with me at how grown my children are. I swear they did all that growing in the last 2 weeks.

I'd also like to say a special thank you to all the family and friends who stop by and read. Thank you for supporting what I do. If you like what you read, and think friends of yours might also, go ahead and share. I don't mind. Also, never hesitate to leave me comments.

Have a great weekend, everyone!

When my own words bite me

Annabella says, "Mom, can I have a little glass of juice?"
I reply, "Yes, there's a little left from your lunch, I put it in the fridge."

Annabella, "Thanks." She goes, gets it, drinks it down and then says, "Can I have some more?"

I reply, "You can have some water, how about that?"

To which she says, "Apparently, I'm done." And with that she puts her cup on the counter and flounces out of the kitchen.

Tongue Twisters

I believe Annabella has encountered tongue twisters in class. I've always loved tongue twisters, but I definitely learned the most tongue twisters on the bus, on the way to speech tournaments. Yes, where I would read poetry aloud, competitively. [Insert your snarky dork comment here.]

Anyhow. If you ask her about them, she doesn't know what you're talking about. What? What are those? But the other night, after I got Red out of the tub, and she was in there playing by herself for a while, she started chanting. Her innocence so overwhelming, I didn't have the heart to stop her.

Over and over.

Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers. Pick a pack of peckers.

Ahh, the capriciousness of youth.

Things That Test Your Parenting Fortitude (Now With Photos!)

1) The first time your baby cries so hard and for so long that you think they are broken, and nothing, no nothing, you do will calm them.

2) The first time your baby throws a full-body arch at you and you nearly drop them, or you do drop them.

3) The first time they throw up in the bathtub.

4) The first time they poop in the bathtub.

5) The first time they look you right in the eye and tell you, "NO!"

6) The first time they get outside by themselves.

7) The first time your monkey child manages to reach a dirty diaper you are certain they can't reach, as you leave the room to answer the phone. You quickly take care of the call and find the house oddly quiet. Suddenly, you hear a noise. Your child is calling for you on the other side of the gate. They seem odd as you approach. The smell. Good god. Is that... Poop? All over my child's hands and clothes? Oh, no, don't put that hand in your mouth!!!! What is wrong with you? Here, no, here, quickly, you strip the child, wash their hands, check the face and mouth. You secure the child in their crib, once you are certain they are clean. Then you go find the source. The dirty diaper, spread across the floor, where clearly little hands have been unearthing a new treasure. With. No. Is that? Oh, yes. It is. A spoon.

That Silly Guy

"Hey Annabella, what do you think of this movie?"
"It's good."

"And what do you think of Willy Wonka?"

"That silly guy? He talks like a boy, but also like a girl."

We love Johnny Depp.

Sphere of Influence

I knew it was coming. The day when we would have zero control over the influences in our daughter's life. School. Has. Happened.

Last week, Annabella had two days of school. On Saturday, her dad was helping her clean her room. There's this crazy coast guard helicopter toy that she's had for years now, and it would not stop making noise. She yelled, "I want that to SHUT UP!"

The first time either of us have heard that expression out of her mouth.

Andrew says, "What did you just say?"

"I can't tell you, " Annabella knows she has said something wrong, but isn't sure how to get out of it, "it's a secret."

OK. Sure. Shut up. It's bound to come up. LIfe goes on.

Today, after I picked up Annabella at her bus stop she started telling me how great her day was. When we got back to the house she got a quizzical look on her face and said, "Someone at school said my parents are trying to kill me."

Me, "WHAT? When was this? What did they say?"

"Well, Mama, when it was time for us to tell what we're having for lunch (hot lunch orders in the morning, yes they have a choice) someone said to me, "I think your parents are trying to kill you."

"Who said that?"

"I can't tell you, it's a secret."

Everything is a secret.

"Annabella, do you know what they meant? Do you know what they were trying to say?"

"No."

OK, so we got distracted then, as we often do, with things that need to happen. So she told her dad the story at dinner and it went more like this.

"Michelle told me that my parents would kill me." Followed by much questioning and talking about what she maybe meant.

So, whether one of her classmates thought we were packing her poison for lunch or thought she wasn't eating enough and would be in trouble later, we don't know.

All we know is, in Kindergarten it is apparently time to SHUT UP or your PARENTS WILL KILL YOU.

She Has Always Relied

on the kindness of strangers.

Farm boy, fetch me my backpack and lunchbox.

Getting Details

There are a multitude of books and theories on how to get your children to talk to you. After going through preschool with Annabella last year, I know why. You get snippets of information, at best. Sometimes you have to really dig to get to the good stuff.

Annabella is done with school around 3:30 p.m. Seeing as we are less than 2 miles from school, I decided to hit the bus stop around 3:45 p.m. Redding was asleep, so I scooped him up and headed out. We passed the time in a strange sort of snuggling and fighting. I had no phone and he had no shoes. We walked around, looked at trees, grass, ants. I made him stop running out into the street. I carried him while he fussed, I'd put him down to walk around a bit, he'd start to get all crazy like and make a dash for the street. Lather, rinse, repeat.

About 30 minutes later, Annabella's bus pulled up. The 3 bigger kids at her stop hopped off, the bus driver shut the door. I waved to her, she opened up. "Who are you looking for?" I told her.

She paged her over the PA system. A minute or so later, she ambled down the aisle to the stairs. A boy, maybe in 3rd or 4th grade followed her with her backpack and lunchbox. Oops!

She hopped down, all smiles and announced, "We had TWO fire drills today!"

If you were with us last year, you know that Annabella is not a big fan of the loud noises that accompany drills of any kind. That is all she had to talk about most of the way back to the house.

Once inside, she opened her backpack and shared all her drawings and colorings, and a little bit of information about a book that they read in class today.

The narrative ended there. Begin the Q&A:

How did you like school today?

Yes, it was good.

Did you have fun?

I had fun at recess.

Did you make any friends?

Yes, a friend on the bus named Gracie. (This touched my heart because we used to joke about her being friends with another mico-preemie in the NICU named Gracie.)

Is she in your class?

No, she's on my bus.

Oh. OK. Did you learn anything at school today?

I played Play-Doh.

Great! What else?

I don't know.

How did you do at lunch?

I found an adult to open my lunchbox.

Did you try to do it yourself first?

I don't know.

Did you get enough to eat?

Yes.

[I open it up. The cookie is gone, maybe two bites of melon, one carrot and a drop of dressing, she possibly at 5 pepperoni slices, but didn't touch the cheese, maybe she had 2 crackers. All her juice is gone.]

Annabella, you hardly touched your lunch.

I got milk at lunch!

How?

I entered my code!

Good. I guess I better put money in your account.

It was chocolate milk.

I see. So you had chocolate milk, apple juice, a chocolate chip cookie, 2 crackers and a piece of melon for lunch?

Yes.

And that was enough?

Yes.

OK.

What else did you do at school today?

I learned to clap a rhythm. [clapping]

Great! What is that about?

It's to help us remember to be quiet.

Did you have trouble remembering to be quiet?

Yes.

A lot?

Yes.

Oh and I learned to make bubble cheeks!

What is that?

It's like this [she puffs out her cheeks like she's holding her breath] so we remember to be quiet in the hallway.

Your teacher is very smart isn't she?

Yes, I like her a lot.

Good.

First Day of School

It looks like she made it. At least as far as the bus.

She put her shoes on...

She posed with the Mailbox, a family tradition...

She posed with her brother, looking cool and collected...

She stepped right up, though her expression had changed a bit toward nervous...

Off she went...

She picked a seat, and yes, that is her little hand waving goodbye. Goodbye to being a little girl.

Quirks and Uh Oh Moments

I have a bad habit of teasing Annabella when she's not listening. If I ask her a question about what she'd like to eat for lunch and she doesn't answer, I'll rephrase it into, "Will you have squirrel cheese and crackers?" If she's not listening to the book I'm reading to her, I'll change all the characters to squirrels. It's pretty funny. At least for me.

So, we were having a conversation like that this weekend. I asked if she'd like a squirrel sandwich for lunch. She quickly yelled (as she is wont to do when I pull her leg like that), "We don't eat squirrels!"

I said, "You're right. WE don't. But we could. Really. I'm sure some people do."

To which she calmly and coolly replied, "But, Mama, we don't eat ANIMALS."

Now, the connection of steak to cow, bacon to pig, sure I get the confusion there. But the girl has been bemoaning eating CHICKEN for her entire talking life. And she happily eats turkey hot dogs, turkey lunchmeat, turkey meatballs, and turkey pepperoni. There's no mystery here. Old McDonald had a farm and frequently on his farm he has chickens and turkeys.

Perhaps she meant, "We eat birds, not animals." But I doubt it. I shot an incredulous look at Andrew and he said, "Don't get into this conversation now, we'll have an adamant vegetarian on our hands."

I know he's right. She's never been a big fan of meat. But even through her complaining about chicken, she'll eat it if she doesn't know what it is. Turn it into a nugget shaped like a dinosaur? She'll eat the hell out of it.

It takes me back to the day I connected meat to animals. I was not yet 6 years old. My mom was driving my little sister and I to the "grocery store" full of cheap meat and dented cans attached to, well, a slaughterhouse. The whole place smelling of blood. I never liked it, but there were no choices for children then, were there. There certainly weren't in my family. We were poor. We shopped where mom could afford to feed us all.

I don't remember the specific conversation, but I do remember the shock and disgust that I had been eating animals. The place smelled bad, because it smelled of the blood of dead animals. Dead animals that I would be eating. By dinner time that night, I was over it. I was hungry and that is what was for dinner.

I'm sure the conversation is coming. It is looming on the horizon. The dread is mounting.

It's really too bad I can't just turn on Dennis Leary's "No Cure for Cancer" for her. He is so poetic when he says, "Meat tastes like murder and murder tastes pretty god damn good."

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Yesterday afternoon we went to Annabella's new school. Exactly as planned.

We got to see her new classroom, meet her new teacher, and some of the students that will be in her class.

In addition, when we were done there we went on walk-about and saw the cafeteria, the playground, toured the halls, and met the principal. We met him on the way out of the Kindergarten wing. He is a very personable guy. Annabella liked him right away. After our tour we walked past him, where she informed him, "I saw the cafeteria and had a chocolate chip cookie!"

As we made our way back down the Kindergarten wing, Andrew asked her who we met. She wracked her brain, finally coming out with, "The P... The President!"

Close enough.

Back to School

This afternoon we're taking Annabella to her elementary school to see her classroom and meet her teacher. In a week and a day, I'll put her on a bus, all by herself, to go to kindergarten.

I understand there will be a small reception set up by the PTA type organization where I can go and cry and commiserate. But honestly driving over to the school to cry on a strangers shoulder after putting my girl on a bus. A BUS. Well, it seems rather silly.

If I'm going to do that, I might as well drive her. And if I drive her once, I might as well drive her every day for the rest of her life. Or something. Some principle, or something.

If you're getting the idea that I'm a little put off by buses, school buses to be exact, you are correct. Hopefully the two lovely girls from across the street will be riding the bus, too. And hopefully they will have the same kind of protective attitude toward Annabella that they have had since the tornado.

Yes, I want my kindergartner to have bus bodyguards. Is that wrong?

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Last night after dinner, Andrew and I let Annabella finish her chocolate donut.

She made quite the extravagant mess, chocolate crumbs everywhere.

I started helping her get herself cleaned up when she was done. She yelled, "I'm not a baby!"

To which I replied, "I know, but you've got quite a mess here and I don't want it all over the house" as I started to help her off with her chocolate covered clothes.

She yelled, "Stop! I'm going to be naked!"

Andrew said, "You can keep your underpants on, run upstairs and get your pajamas on."

I said, "Unless you've got chocolate on your underpants, too." Pulling her leg.

To which she deadpanned, "That's poop."

After a little more cleaning and a little inspecting, I finally relaxed enough to realize she made a joke. Chocolate isn't chocolate anymore when it hits your underpants. Then it is poop.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Me: What are you going to dream about tonight?

Annabella: All kinds of places. Like Paris and Yew Nork.

Updates

Apparently I need to make a new resolution: To stop making resolutions I don't keep.

Or something.

August is my birthday month. I turned 36 this year. And then my fingers stop typing. It's a stumper for me. Two times 18. I'm in my late re-teens! Whoooohooo! In all seriousness, I have no consciousness of being that old. Like once I entered adulthood, my age self-concept entered suspended animation. Like somehow I could wake up 14 years from now (seriously, not that long considered I've already lived twice that long) and go, "Uh, no, sorry there's no way I'm 50 years old."

I wanted to have a fit when I turned 30, but as it turns out it was less than 2 months after I got married and Andrew surprised me with 30 roses at a small party for me at my sister Karen's house. Trauma averted.

This year I'm not even traumatized, just surprised, maybe?

Enough about me.

Annabella is 5. That is a show stopper. She's starting Kindergarten in less than 2 weeks. That is a heart stopper. Why so bunged up emotionally? Well, once upon a time, I sat in a small enclosed garden at Lucille Packard Children's Hospital, in a wheelchair. Next to me was my sister Tammie. It was our first visit together after Annabella was born and I was a crying, wretched wreck. One of the thoughts circling my brain endlessly was, "what if I never get to see her off for her first day of school?"

What if. A million miracles later: here she goes!

And she's 5, people! Five. So there's a lot of learning going on every day, about how to behave and such. Just learning how to be, in the world. There's a lot of head butting, because we are both stubborn. There's a lot of frustration, because we both want to get our own way.

In the day to day of "why can't you just eat a meal without being reminded 87 times to eat?" it is hard to keep perspective on what a delight and wonder it is that we are right here, right now, doing these things we do.

She's so amazingly normal (if still maintaining the same level of stubbornness and self possession that has kept her with us through, well, many hurdles, shall we say) that it is hard to even entertain who she is now and where she started out.

Once again, when she's 15 there will be no, "But mom, I can't learn Trigonometry, I had brain bleeds! I was a micro-preemie! I was born three and a half months too early! It's really all your fault!"

I'm not buying it. But I still do, honestly, try to appreciate it. From time to time.

Redding? Oh, danger boy? He's fantastic. Yeah, he's already passed up the milestones for 18 month olds now (he's just 16 months, but was 7 weeks early). Just now I watched him walk up the stairs. Walk. Not climb or crawl. Walk. And no, he can't reach the hand rail. Preemie, what? Adjusted age? Never even entered the picture. Crazy. I'm pretty sure he said "Nicholas" twice today, too.

Be sure to check out the pictures, too, for some amusement. For his actual age, he is in the 40th percentile for height, the 30th percentile for weight, and, oh yeah, the 90th percentile for head circumference. It's a wonder he can stand upright, right?

I'll be uploading a bunch of pictures to Flickr, and posting some here in the coming days.

Summer is drawing to a close, and I will not be sorry to say goodbye to the too hot, too humid Minnesota Summer. Fall is the most beautiful time of year here, anyway.

Hope you've made it successfully through the mire of updates here. Don't be a stranger. Drop me a line or leave me a comment from time to time, would ya? I don't like writing in a vacuum.

Levitation is Cool

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Andrew and I were goofing around in the kitchen at Tammie and Joe's house. Joking about the many silly dances we have planned for the wedding reception.

One of our longtime favorites is a little number we call "the walker dance". In this dance, you place your hands out in front of you as though you were holding onto a walker, and you rock your hips front to back.

That is the gist of the walker dance. It is not intended to offend anyone, as we both hope to live long enough to require the assistance of a walker.

So, we're doing our dance in the kitchen and Annabella walks in and says, "You guys are losing your skulls."

Yes. Yes we were. But apparently we're doing a really great job of providing proper context for random expressions of speech. That is priceless.

Charmed

Annabella was charmed by Dana's koi pond yesterday. I think it made the shower for her.

Taking this photo made the shower for me.

Silly Girl

That is my silly girl.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

A - Mama, you snore.

Me - Sorry sweetie.

A - You kept me up.

Me - I'm so sorry.

A - Mama, you sounded like a buzzer, buzzing in my head all night. You kept me up all night long!

(Benedryl makes for sleep so deep, that my own snoring doesn't wake me. Uh Oh!)

Special Effects

A friend of mine was complimenting me on my blog last night (thank you so much!). She was remarking on the unique quality of certain photos posted here.

Mostly we about how they look like some kind of special effect was used to achieve that background. In reality, it is just the big old stainless steel refrigerator in our kitchen in Minnesota. I'm not a photoshop whiz, I barely know enough to be dangerous.

Here is another Annabella special effect. In this photo it looks like I somehow manipulated the light or found her a spotlight to sit in to put her shoes on. Nope. Just my girl, putting her shoes on. Just me taking a regular old picture on my camera. Yet somehow, she winds up in the spotlight.

Truly, if I take enough pictures, sooner or later at least one of them will be interesting.

Painting Ceramics

Yesterday afternoon, Tammie suggested that I take Annabella out to do some fun stuff after I put Redding down for his afternoon nap. It was an amazing rare treat to spend some one on one time with Annabella. She asked if we could go to the old mall we used to go to. I said, "We could do that, we could go shop around Capitola and watch the surfers, or we can go paint some pottery."

There was no hesitation. Painting? With you? Oh yeah!

We went to the small locally owned place in Aptos, but it was closed for Summer vacation. So sadly we set off to go to the mall. I remembered then that there is a Petroglyph in Santa Cruz, so we drove up there and miraculously found a free parking spot in the ramp, on a warm Friday in July. Miracles.

Annabella loved picking her own paints, shaking them up, putting them on her palette. She loved picking her own piece, a lidded jewelry box shaped like a butterfly. She loved meeting other kids, charming the staff, playing with the train table (brilliant), and hiding in the movie cave.

We had lots of good talks. She got to be very grown up and independent. Walking across the room to get us fresh water for our brushes. Cleaning her own greenware. Deciding what part to paint which color. She even helped me pick out some colors for the teddy bear bank I painted, and helped me paint it. Oh, and did I mention that she found a raised area with a couch that she decided would make a good stage? She put on songs, dances, and skits, all by herself.

This last picture, I think is from her rendition of "Death of a Salesman."

Just kidding. She was just showing her range. A good time was had by all.

Things That Shouldn't Surprise Me

Me? I like food. From back in the days I forced my siblings to watch Great Chefs of San Francisco, to the years I worked for an executive chef. Forget about that time in between, that slight aberration. If we eat anything in our house, it is a very broad variety of both healthy and junk foods.

Now, it did surprise me when Annabella, not yet 2 years old informed us that she LOVED jambalaya. She liked that it was spicy. That was a little weird.

Was I likewise surprised when she stopped pulling apart sushi rolls to get the carrots out, and started just eating the seaweed (nori)? Not so much.

So, why in the world would it surprise me when my son decides just this morning that he can not get enough of dry sourdough toast? All I can say is, just wait dude, until you're no longer lactose intolerant and can have it with butter.

Mmm... Buttered San Francisco style sourdough toast, baked less than 10 miles from here. That's a good way to start a morning, from time to time.

Children's Discovery Museum

The Children's Discovery Museum was fantastic. The water area was vast and hugely entertaining. Annabella could have easily spent the entire day there.

Good thing I discovered the tot water area, which Redding was just big enough to enjoy.

OK, it was actually right there in front of me. Redding could not have been happier with it. So independent, that one. Even in a stroller there were truly interactive things for them to do.

There were interesting things everywhere you looked. It was great. There was even a preschooler/toddler/infant area which both the kids enjoyed.

Not to be missed, the giant bubble area. Annabella really got into it.

Red's favorite part was the little room with the carousel and music and lights. Like baby LSD, for sure.

All this? For two adults and two children? $24.00. Amazing. Hours and days of entertainment.

Fine Motor

This year in preschool, Annabella got to work a lot on her fine motor skills.

If I needed any proof that the hard work has paid off, I got it this weekend.

She used a hose to spray water on a bee hive approximately 50 feet from the deck she was standing on.

Perhaps I should blame the Wii instead. In any case the bees were good and riled up, but no one got hurt.

Shoo-She

Yesterday was another beautiful day on the California coast. It was Tammie's last day off on her long weekend and we decided to take the kids out for lunch and to Happy Hollow.

For lunch, we unanimously decided to go for sushi, to Mobo in Santa Cruz, where Tam and I used to meet for lunch once in a while when she worked downtown.

Annabella went for carrot rolls and cucumber rolls.

She was thrilled with her practice chopsticks, loved sharing Auntie's miso soup, and just plain old giddy.

What do you feed a 14 month old at a sushi restaurant? A better question would be what don't you?

Redding enjoyed all the tofu cubes from my miso soup, even a green onion. He juiced the lemon wedges from our waters, he gobbled up hand fulls of rice, he ate up zucchini and summer squash stripped of its tempura. He even managed to eat some of his baby food.

I think Redding's favorite part was when Auntie gave him her straw and he could pretend to be using chopsticks. It made him endlessly happy.

Our table was perfectly placed, at the back of the restaurant, where Annabella had access to the terrace, with a fountain. There was no one out there when we arrived and did what any giddy 4 year old would do. She put on a dance performance.

It was priceless.

Then we took off for Happy Hollow. When we got over the hill, we discovered it was 100 degrees outside (it had been in the upper 60's in Santa Cruz), so Tammie suggested the Children's Discovery Museum. A truly wondrous place I will blog about later or tomorrow. It deserves its own post.

July 4, 2008

The parade in Aptos was a good time, as usual. You can tell by the size of her smile that Annabella was thrilled to be there.

Redding and his lactose-free-soulpatch were not quite as pleased. Though he enjoyed being rolled around in his stroller, if we dared to stop rolling him he had a cow. I made the mistake of letting him out and he would not be made to stay with us. He was on his way.

Ironically, the parade included a toddler on a leash and later a dog in a stroller. Life today is so confusing.

Movies to come.

Annabella on TV

Twin Cities Live; KSTP; Tuesday, July 8, 2008 at 3 p.m.

Annabella was in preschool this year, at the local high school. Two seniors put together a project to get little ones excited about being active and eating healthy, and presented it to the preschool class. Annabella and her classmates will be seen in video footage and stills from the class. Pretty cool, huh?

Anonymous Beach Urchins

Here's a shot of the kids at the beach yesterday. A good time was had by all.

Full Body Glee

Tunnel Girl

We went to the park yesterday and I got a movie of Bel in the tunnel. After all the pictures I took of her in there, I can't believe this is the only movie. Crazy.

Wishing

Annabella has been having a blast in the yard with Auntie Tammie. There are flowers, fruit trees, bugs of all kinds, a steep hill, grape vines, ivy, huge old timbers, and adventures galore.

Leaving on a Jet Plane

We, the Von Jenkinschtein family singers, are off on a yodeling tour of the Alps this afternoon.

We will return to the land of 10,000 lakes, 5 environmentalists, and endless Summer itching and sweating sometime this Summer. Closer to Fall, the best season to live here.

I will do my best to keep the blog updated with plenty of pictures of fun, fog, beachy goodness, the shortest 4th of July parade in the world, much wedding festivities, and growing beautiful children.

Wish us safe and sane family travels.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

OK, when we're done with breakfast, it will be time to go get dressed. Then we should pack your overnight bag. I want you to get your school backpack and put in: a change of clothes, pajamas, toothbrush and toothpaste, bunny and blanket, and whatever else you'll need.

Don't forget Bunny!

I said bunny and blanket. Bunny, bunny, bunny, he's your best sleeping buddy, huh?

Yeah, he sleeps the tightest.

Movie Time Friday (early)

This is an oldie, but I had to share the sweetness. A little over a year ago, Redding was almost 1 month old, Annabella was 3 1/2 and she was very excited to get to hold her brother and sing him a song.

P.S. That squirming and unhappiness of Reddings? It turned out to be lactose intolerance. Poor guy slept poorly until he was 9 months old, because nobody figured it out. Squirmy, unhappy infant? Eliminate lactose from mom or your formula. It can be really easy to have a happier baby.

Adventures at the end of 4

Last night at precisely 10:45 p.m. Annabella fell out of her bed. She barely wok up. I went and helped tuck her back in. She was just conscious enough to ask me to snuggle her before she was out again.

When we were leaving the gym the other day, there was a car next to us decorated for high school graduation. Annabella had all kinds of questions about it. Then she proclaimed: When I get big, I will have a car that is purple. It will have sparkles and princess stickers, too.

OK.

Due perhaps to her life of spoiling... Annabella has become unhappy with the schedule we keep. How we spend our time. What we eat and when.

Everything has to be 'special'. Lunch? Not lunch! I want a treat. And people, pepperoni pizza doesn't qualify as a treat, even though she only sees it like once a month.

Every day there has to be special activities planned. Places to go, just for her entertainment and benefit.

The other day, when I went to get her from the Y child care, she told me to go work out longer, because she hadn't had a chance to do anything good yet. I was picking her up to take her swimming. If that isn't good, I don't know what is.

She's always been a child who has known her own mind. We have felt her entire life that she is still here due to her personal strength. We were determined not to break her spirit.

Now, we may be rethinking. How do you teach a child to make her own time special? Is 4 years old too young to take her to a food shelf and teach her about the people who go hungry? I think perhaps not.

This is life, child. Making every day special doesn't mean a new toy and loads of sweets every day.

What Could Be Sweeter?

Heard from the other room, as I prepare the fresh fruit and veggies for the week:

Come on, walk to sissy.

(insert adamant baby babbling here)

Good job! Good job, big guy!

Her Own Language

She has got her own things going on.

Trumped!

There once was a time, I coined the nickname for my loving husband of "Two Dessert Jenkins".

On Sunday night, that title was blown out of the water at the hands of the grandparents.

Sunday morning when we were talking about what we would be doing that day, Annabella asked what she would be having for dessert at her grandparents house.

Once we arrived at said house, she confirmed with her grandparents that there would in fact be dessert. There is a long standing tradition of her Gragra letting her have two desserts, so she knew she would be taken care of.

Once she finished some of her dinner, Gragra presented her with "first dessert". A light little number, composed of a prepackaged cup of orange jello, topped with cool-whip.

Once this was scarfed down, Annabella was presented with a prepackaged bowl of cotton candy flavored Dippin' Dots. This she was not so pleased with. But she managed to force herself to eat about half.

Now, at this point it gets fuzzy for me, because I left the table with Redding. But I believe at this point she was given a bowl of vanilla ice cream. About 4 scoops, with chocolate sauce. This she was bested by. Her tummy was full.

Then, on the way home, she managed to eat an entire little roll of Smarties candies smuggled to her by her Gragra.

That makes my girl Four Dessert Jenkins. Andrew, the gauntlet has been thrown.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Mama, I have no glasses on my face.

Yes, that is correct.

Maybe when I a dolt.

You mean, when you are an adult?

Right. When I'm a dolt.

Maybe they are the same thing.

I Love Summer

We've been having a good old time since Annabella got out of school. I forgot how great it can be to experience that freedom. Not that I imagine that going to preschool for 4 hours a week was terribly stressful for Annabella. But she seems to be enjoying her new freedom.

Red doesn't much notice the difference. But he sure does love having his big sister around.

Language Skills

These kids, they just keep growing up. Every day it is a challenge to get a quick mental snapshot of where they are in their development, so I can sock it away and cherish it.

Sometimes I even get the camera out and take some photos. But I digress.

On Saturday, Redding used his first word, other than Mama, Dada, and Annabella. He looked up from his dinner and making the appropriate hand sign with just one hand said, loud and clear, "Done!"

OK. No mistaking it. He was done. Wahoo! Since then, I think I've heard him say, "Eat." Yes, the kid does like food.

Annabella on the other hand has been regressing to some interesting talking. Baby talk, because she somehow feels Red gets more attention, so if she can just be a baby again... You know, the usual. But she's also gone back to that strange, Martian sounding yodel thing she does, "Gi-goal-gi-goll-gi-gal."

Must get these things on film.

Being a Mother

One of the thoughts I've had about being a mother, over the last year, is that I deserve some kind of metal for deciding to have another child. Having Redding was kind of a gift. It was the gift of a sibling for Annabella, hopefully he will be someone she can face the challenges of the world with. Someone to rely upon in the best and worst of times.

A gift to me, in that I am getting to experience what having a full-term child is like. Yes, Redding was born at 33 weeks, but you'd never know it. It is an amazing and precious gift to have a baby that is healthy, that you can read books about without terrifying yourself, that meets common milestones, that is snuggly and affectionate.

Really, though, I owe a great debt of gratitude to the love, support, well-wishes, and even prayers of my family and friends. Without their moral, and outright physical support, there is not way we would have made it to 33 weeks. Hell, without their support, I don't know that we would have made the decision to go forward.

I am grateful to each and every person who loved and supported us through the last 3 years that got us here.

Where is here? Redding has shed his infant persona and is just an amazing little boy. Annabella is no longer a little girl, but a curious, confident big sister. Everyone is healthy, bar the usual coughs and colds, things like that.

For me to survive preeclampsia and HELLP Syndrome twice, well I am shocked by my own strength. HELLP can be fatal, in most cases the thing that kills is permanent liver damage or failure. In both cases, the symptom that signaled it was time to deliver was excruciating liver pain. The day Annabella was delivered, it had started as a nagging pain, which I tried to ignore. I didn't know any better. I was already hospitalized and felt like I was safe. Foolish me. With Redding, it woke be up the night before he was born. I feared it was the same pain, but was unsure because I wasn't out of my mind this time. I got up at like 4 a.m., had some breakfast, called my doctor. She told me to get to the hospital as quickly as possible. I said, "Can I wait until Andrew and Annabella wake up?" Yes, I did. She said that would be fine, as they would have to wait the surgery until they were certain I had digested my english muffin.

OK. Crazy. I also how fortunate I have been to have been under the care of some amazing doctors and nurses. (And one bad nurse who my doctor let have it. Post-partum is when the rest of the HELLP symptoms hit me, and I was on dueling IV's of pitocin and magnesium sulfate. I was retaining every ounce of fluid they let me have, meaning my kidneys weren't functioning. My head was pounding, I was weak. Not to mention that my abdomen was killing me, what with the fresh incision and all. And I could not stop throwing up. Laughing hurts with a fresh incision. Imagine throwing up. So, I push the nurses call button for maybe the third time and crying I tell the nurse, "Please help me, please give me something that will make me stop throwing up." She calls the doctor to tell her what whiner I am. The doctor reads her the riot act saying, "This woman is a trouper, she's been in pain for months now, and this is the first I've ever heard of her complaining. If she needs something, get it for her.")

I digress. That seems like a million years ago. Like it happened to someone else. Other people. Other tiny babies.

It's strange. For me, there's the idea of the baby, that lives in your head while you're pregnant. Once you give birth, that baby disappears or is reformed to coincide with the actual baby before you. For us, there is the tiny, fragile baby in the NICU. That baby disappears slowly, as they become ready to go home. There's the bigger (still tiny), less fragile baby you get to take home. The whole evolution of a person is so amazing to witness. I feel so amazingly fortunate to be able to witness and nurture them along.

One of my personal traditions is to thank Annabella and now Redding on Mother's Day. I thank them for making me a mom. They don't quite get it, yet. But it just seems like the right thing to do.

"Before you came along, I wasn't a mom. Now I am. You helped me to find the most amazing adventure of my life so far. Thank you."

Happy Friday Video

In April and May of 2006, Annabella was a dancing queen. She had all the moves. OK, she had some of the movies, which is a lot considering she was only about 2 1/2.

It's the voguing and the quick turns that get me. That and the boundless enthusiasm which to this day has not ended.

School Birthday

Today Annabella got to celebrate her birthday at school. It's kind of sweet of the teachers, really, if you think about it. They divvy up the last few days of preschool, and assign them to the kids with Summer birthdays.

She got to make a special birthday crown (with a little help) and pass out treats. She could not be happier, since she's been antsy for her birthday ever since we started planning Red's first birthday party.

Here she is, miss birthday girl.

Movie Time Friday

Annabella and Her Crown

She had told me that her crown made her "beautiful-er". But, much like the Warner Brother's frog, she had no idea what I was talking about once I got her on camera.

April 10 Snow

Red is not please with the snow. Near the end he uses the expression you can often hear him say when he is not pleased. I'm not sure what he is actually saying, but what it sounds like to me is, "Eat it!"

With these two playing off each other, we could almost call this one Frick and Frack.

Ouch

Never in my life did I think I would repeat the phrase, "Get off your brother." so many, many times. Between pushing him out of the way with her foot, "accidentally" laying on him, taking toys away from him, taunting him with things he can't have, complaining to me that his baby food looks gross, and generally being jealous of any time or attention we give her brother, Annabella is actually glad to have a sibling.

How can I be so sure?

It is the way she quietly holds his hand when he falls asleep in the car. It makes my heart hurt, from sweetness.

Missing Dada

No flair for the dramatic here...

"And, I really want my Daddy to come back..." she manages to say, with a quivering lip.

Swim Saga

Back in Aptos, my girl had been running for the ocean, begging to go in the water, and frolicking in it every chance she got. She'll run through sprinklers, party in wading pools, and generally have a blast in the bathtub every chance she gets.

Then this Summer, we went to a hotel to hang out with some people. It was noisy, and smelled like chlorine. And no, a small overcrowded indoor hotel pool is NOT the Pacific Ocean. Annabella did not want to get in. Not even a little. Not with me, or anyone else. Nope. No thanks.

We got in, I thought she'd see us having fun and want to join us. Not so much. She walked around the pool and introduced herself to children and adults, anyone whose attention she could get. Suddenly, sploosh, she was in the water.

It took a few seconds to cross the maybe 10 feet of pool space to pull her up. She hardly sputtered. I got her out and wrapped her in a towel. It seemed quite a few minutes passed before she even realized what happened.

No, she didn't want to get back in. No. Thanks.

So, a few months ago I enrolled her in a swim class. It was a class where we would go into the pool together. She was thrilled, until we got to the locker room.

It was weird. A whole new concept, what with lockers, showers, a long row of loud wall-mounted dryers. People were changing. She did not want to shower (she is a bath girl). She had to go potty before she got in the pool and the potty was an automatic flush toilet and it was loud. Really loud.

Between the locker room being cold, the scary loud toilet, the cold shower, and then having to stand in the hallway and wait for the instructor, Annabella was shaking like a leaf by the time we hit the pool. The pool was thankfully warm.

Have you ever gone swimming with an orangutan with lock-jaw? That is what that first swim class was like. The girl could not hold onto me tight enough, securely enough, and her little body was so tense if I had poked her she would have gone, "boing!"

The only time she actually relaxed for a minute was when we played motorboat at the end of class. For the brief 4 minutes of the game, she uncoiled, just a little. By the time we were getting out of the pool, she was tightly wound again.

NO shower. NO drying. No potty. Just shivering her damp way back into her clothes. Her coat, her hat, her mittens, her hood trying desperately to protect this exhausted damp person from the subzero temperatures outside.

Was she ever exhausted. 45 minutes of shivering, tension, pushing boundaries, and sheer 4 year old terror is exhausting. Me? I was tired just watching her go through it. We talked a little on the way home and I suggested that she might enjoy class a little more if she tried to relax a little.

Over the next 4 weeks she did relax, little by little. In the end she bravely faced the "medium flush" potty, which wasn't so scary. She gamely blew bubbles in the water. She went through her paces, letting me help her swim on her back. She made big circles with her arms. She passed per proficiency test for that class and we moved on.

In the next session, she was in the pool without me. There was just one other person in her class. A little boy named Hayden. The teacher was an older lady named Sally. It should have been great.

Unfortunately, Sally doesn't exactly have a way with kids. The two kids were good sports. They got in the pool with Sally and started their lesson. Without any preliminaries or warm-up, nice to meet you, how do you do, let's build some trust... Sally tried to get both of them to put their entire faces in the water.

When they proved to be a little wary, only putting a little of their faces in the water, she tricked them. She pushed or pulled them farther under the water.

This did not go over so well with our girl. Oh, no. She? Yeah, she knows what the hell you're doing and she does not appreciate it. Poor Hayden just seemed confused.

Now, you're asking yourself, "What the hell would possess a Red Cross certified children's swim instructor to do such a thing?" I asked myself that for the entire 4 weeks of the lessons.

I figured maybe it got some kids over the initial fears of going underwater. OK. She's the professional. No one drowned. But yeah, I didn't like it too well myself.

At the start of the next lesson, I figured there would be some preliminaries, some warming up before she started that bullshit again. Oh no. She pretty much went straight back to coaxing, then tricking the kids into going underwater. By the end of that lesson, neither one of the kids would leave the steps with her. And as a parting gift she informed me, "You need to work with her on this at home. It's too long between lessons, you need to help her become more comfortable being underwater."

I think horns may have grown out of my head because I really, really wanted to give her a piece of my mind. About what kind of work she needs. And how atrocious it is for an adult to result to tricking children and losing any trust they might have had...

During the 3rd lesson, Hayden wasn't there. I witnessed 45 minutes of Annabella telling Sally, "No." "I don't want to." "No!" "I won't."

I've never witnessed my people-pleasing girl behave that way. I was stunned. I have known for some time that she is feisty. Hell, she wouldn't even be here if she wasn't feisty. She's always known her own mind. But she likes people, she likes to make people happy. She loves teachers.

I did not raise a finger to intervene. The tone of the lesson did not change.

On the way home from class, I asked, "So, how do you like swim lessons?"

"I liked swim lessons."

"Do you like your teacher, Sally?"

"Sure."

"Do you trust her?"

"Ugh, not so much."

Yep. That's my 4 year old. MY 4 year old.

So, we talked a little about how Sally does some things that I don't really like, but that ultimately she won't hurt you. It didn't really make a big impact.

Andrew spent a lot of time helping her to get used to putting her face in the water in her tub. He made it fun, he made it a game. He made the water safe again.

Annabella made it through her last lesson with Sally and Hayden. She did what she needed to do to pass the class, nothing more. She told Sally, "No." more than once. But she muscled through and passed.

Yep. She passed, but can't move on to a higher class until she's 5. How annoying is that?

I think when she does start back to swim lessons, it will be at a different location. I'd like to say that she got over the whole Sally thing, but she hasn't. When it's time to rinse her hair in the tub, sometimes she says in a panic, "Don't push me under!"

I never have. I never would.

Kick a mean old broad's ass, for putting that kind of fear into my kid? Yep. I just might.

The one reassuring thing to come out of this is, I know my girl will push back if an adult is doing something she doesn't agree with. Although, I intend to see that it doesn't happen again.

Sleepy Head Artist

I can not get over how much Annabella's drawing skills have grown over the last 6 months. She couldn't be bothered to draw people before preschool. Now she draws them with ease, including all kinds of people parts.

This particular shot is a drawing of her at her birthday party. She included eyebrows, hair, a decoration on her shirt, it is quite detailed. She filled in all the white space with balloons (pink) and presents (purple, though she wasn't too thrilled about drawing squares, obviously). Needless to say she's got birthday fever ever since we began getting ready for Red's first birthday.

With any luck she'll get two parties this year. One in California where we'll celebrate Grandma Pam's birthday, Annbella's and mine, too. Just a little family thing, with all the people she's been missing lately. Then one in Minnesota where we'll have a virtual instant replay of Red's party.

She's growing up in so many ways and it is just amazing to see. I am grateful to see that she remains the same outgoing, loving, extremely enthusiastic girl she has always been. In other words, we haven't broken her yet. Yahoo.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Last night, as we were finishing up dinner, Andrew hopped up to grab something from the kitchen. He came back singing a bit of the song in "Big" -- I said it, I meant it, I stole your Mama's credit.

Annabella says, "Did you steal Mama's heart?"

Andrew, taken aback said, "Did I steal her heart? I tried..."

To which she replied, all authority and seriousness, "You! Give it back!"

An Oldy, But a Goody

For reference, I've been looking at old pictures of Annabella. This is her, crashed out in her room during a rough day of playing. She's almost 14 months old in this picture.

I can't believe she was still drinking from small bottles. I can't believe we just let her have them and go off and drink them where she wanted. I can't believe she was playing so hard that she just fell asleep right there, bam!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I love you as twirly as an acrobat.

Out of the mouths of babes

I'm hungry, hungry, hungry. That means "I need food" in tummy language.

How about a cheese stick? (string cheese)

No, I need something that goes in a bowl.

Update on the Children

Here they are. Happy together on Easter.

It feels like ages since I've written anything about them, especially Redding. Where to begin?

Red is about to turn 1. One year old. I can not believe it. He is really getting to be a big boy. He's been crawling for what feels like forever. He can motor himself from one end of the family room to the other in mere seconds. He can climb stairs like a champ. He's pulling himself up on everything and even occasionally just letting go and standing there.

It's almost like he holds his breath and waits to fall. If you hold his hands and encourage him, he'll take some "big steps". Why big steps? Because otherwise he'll do a little mincing crab-like sidestep like he does when he's cruising.

At the mall the other day he saw a little guy about his size. He lit up with glee and 'yelled' a big hello to the guy, who crawled over to be social. Next thing I knew the other little guy stood up and walked right on by. Red was stunned. Not socially, but like, "Wow, how'd you do that? Come back! Teach me!"

He loves to sing. It's kind of a long, monotone of "Ahhhh-aaahhhhhhaaaahhhhhhaaaaaahhhhhhhhh." Nothing fancy, but he loves when you join in.

He has a little unique expression of joy. He'll bobble his head back and forth and smile. It's like a head hello, or 'hey, how do you like me now?' Either way it charms the pants of family and strangers alike.

Speaking of strangers, I get comments from people in stores and around town all the time. "What a good baby! What a handsome boy! He's so happy! Is he always so happy?"

Yes. Except when he's not. Same as always.

He is a great sport about taking his prevacid, but I'm hoping to get him off that after his 1 year check-up. He's eating his baby mush food like a champ. Everything except blueberries, which don't agree with him. He's even eating some wheat stuff now, which no longer seems to make him throw up.

He's drinking water and sometimes a little juice from a sippee! He's a champ. He even likes when we help him drink from a cup, but I wonder if maybe giggling and drinking are not a good plan for a little man.

He's eating puffs, little chunks of soft fruits and veggies. He's not such a fan of cheerios, sadly. Maybe it will be an acquired taste for him. Or maybe he'll be a Kix boy.

He says "mama" and "dada" and he seems to be phasing out 'giggy' for sissy in favor of 'bay-yah" for Bella. I'm certain Andrew would attest to my auditory hallucinations at this point, but I tell you it is true.

As for Annabella, she is almost done with Preschool. She has certainly enjoyed going to see "all her friends" twice a week. It may be hard to contain her between the end of Preschool and the beginning of our trip to California. We'll see.

She is in the middle of her second round of swimming class. This time she goes without me in the pool. She's a bit nervous, even though she can easily stand in the shallow end. Even so, she occasionally loses her footing, probably because she's thinking of something else, and has slipped completely under the water. She is extremely dramatic with the sputtering and face wiping, even when she's just dipped part of her face in during a drill with the teacher and the one other student in the class.

Sounds like a great ratio, doesn't it? Even so, I think often times that two children are a bit much for this particular swim teacher. They other student is more game than Annabella, so the teacher has him do stuff first. Annabella tried to do it on her own while the other little guy does the drill with the teacher, and by the time the teacher gets to her, she's flustered, ill-prepared, or sputtering all over the place.

Despite these issues, Annabella is enjoying swim class. Pools are fun, but she can't wait to play in the ocean. Amen.

During the last year she's refined her knowledge of the alphabet, adding lower case letters to the mix. She's gotten much more skilled at writing her name, her whole name, and drawing people.

Her imagination is taking over. She can be eating dinner or in the middle of picking up some toys and all of a sudden all the little things around her take on personalities and she's creating scenarios and conversations.

She is an energetic, enthusiastic wonder of a girl. She loves her brother. She still amazes me every day.

That's about all I have to say about my two little stars today. More soon.

Exposed

Ever since Annabella discovered the joys of Dora the Explorer, we have talked a lot about Spanish. Annabella has enjoyed learning different words in Spanish from Dora and frequently asks me how to say certain things. I happily oblige.

Now I have been betrayed by Handy Manny. He also teaches Spanish words and phrases. But recently there was a hearing impaired person on the show. They showed Manny how to say some things in American Sign Language. Annabella really dug the sign for friendship.

She was really into the show and when it was over, I said it was lunch time. She said, "How do you say lunch in Sign Language?"

I said, "I don't know, but we can look it up."

She stood there staring me down, incredulous. Always when she asked me how to say things in Spanish, I knew. This? This I didn't know? How could that be? HOW CAN IT BE??!??!!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Mama, what are you going to be when you grow up?

Gosh, babe, I don't know. How long do you think it will be until I'm grown up?

I mean, how long do you think it will take for me to be grown up? Like a week, a month, a year, what?

I think about ten years.

Well, then I think that I would like to be a writer when I grow up in ten years.

What's a writer?

Someone who writes stories for other people to read.

Mama, those are high school students.

Does that mean I can't be a writer?

Maybe. It's a secret.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I can't wait until my brother grows up to be a big girl.

Honey, your brother is a boy.

But when he grows up, he'll be a big girl, like me.

He'll be a big boy, not a big girl. I'm afraid he'll always be a boy.

Well, when I grow up, I'm going to be a boy.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Annabella was drinking some hot chocolate a few minutes ago. She went outside in the snow for a little bit, while her dad was out shoveling the driveway.

(Where exactly is Spring, by the way?)

I said, "That will probably be the last snow this year."

Bel said, "Really?" All wide-eyed.

"Well, until Fall. You know, it will snow again at the end of the year."

"The Fall, when I go to kindergarten?"

"That's right. You're going to kindergarten for sure, dude."

She leans her head in, touching her forehead to mine, so it looks like she's got one eye, "You mean Annabella, right, mom?"

Cute Kid Pics

Red turned 11 months yesterday. He is standing every chance he gets. He has developed a sideways crab-like walk which he'll do if you hold his hands, I think because of all the cruising along the furniture he does. He is feisty and wants to go, go, go. He loves to climb stairs. He loves to play with his sister. He is growing so much, you can almost see it daily. He knows "Mama", "Dada", and "Giggy" which is Sissy (ultimately easier than Annabella, I'm sure).

We will surely be in trouble before he turns one. I'm certain he'll be walking. And I just do not know what to do with a little walker with the brain of an 11 month old.

Annabella is 100% jazzed to finish preschool and start kindergarten in the Fall. She wants desperately to take the bus. We'll see if I can handle that. I'll try not to limit her with my own fears, just be reasonable and keep her safe. She's getting better at writing her name and figuring out that choosing to go by Annabella when she got to preschool was maybe not the most advantageous choice she could have made. She is very sweet and nurturing with her brother, when she's not yelling at him, telling on him, or pushing him away from her things, or taking his things away from him. Oh, it is hard to be a big sister.

They are both just growing up faster than I can handle. Isn't that amazing?

Surprise! It's Kindergarten!

This afternoon I took Annabella to a kindergarten orientation. It was just fine. The school seems nice, the staff seem nice, the materials and presentation were nice.

The surprise was when, 10 minutes into the presentation, the principal announced that one of the kindergarten teachers was going to take all the kids to the kindergarten classroom while we finished up. OK, no that was not a surprise. I certainly hoped they didn't expect the kids to sit there quietly for 60 minutes while they read us the materials they printed up and handed out.

The surprise was when Annabella jumped up and ran off, without so much as a glance backward, just as she always does when she has a new adventure... I welled up with tears.

That surprised me.

I can just see it now. I can't drive her to her first day of school, I won't be able to see to drive home. I'll have to walk her to the bus stop and hope that Red can lead me home, blubbering away.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Oh give me a home.
Where the buffalo roam.

Where the deer and the cantaloupe play...

Out of the Mouths of Babes

"Look! It's Fiona!" This, clear as a bell. This garbled, "She's a yogan, just like Shrek!"

"She's a what?"

"A Yo-Gan, Mom, just like Shrek!"

Apparently ogres are very bendy.

Then we moved on to to songs.

Baa, baa, black sheep, have you any wool? Yes sir, yes sir, three bags full.

One for the master, one for the dame, and one for the little boy who lives down the drain.

"Where does he live?"

"Where does who live?"

"Where does the little boy live?"

"Down the drain, Mom, down the drain!"

I shudder to think what her nightmares must be like.

New Pictures!

Here is a picture of Redding. I haven't said much about him crawling. There's not much to say. He conquered that skill and is pulling himself up on every available human and object. He will no doubt be walking before he turns 1. I think in this particular picture he is actually embarrassed to be caught coming out of his sister's Princess Fort. I can't say that I blame him.

Here's one of Annabella who is developing a great love of cooking. Or rather, she insists we bake something together at least once a month. Sometimes more often. I comply, but only in the hopes of teaching her fractions and patience, and maybe a little science. Or just to teach her the love of the best chocolate chip cookies, ever.

There's a few more up at Flickr.

More to come as I am apparently feeling better. I don't actually think I feel better, but considering I have homemade chicken enchiladas in the oven, several loads of clean laundry, vacuumed floors, and fairly happy children, I must be feeling better.

Daffy

I was always intrigued as a child, with Bugs Bunny's ability to switch sides in the middle of an argument, and win.

Some of my less brilliant parenting moments have actually made me wish I could use this trick on my children.

After picking up Annabella from school, I got the kids squared away in the family room for a while, so I could put the groceries away. Once that was done, Red had a meltdown, so I fixed him a bottle and took him off to his bed. I told Annabella, "I'm going to go put your brother down. When I come back it will be time for you to have a story and a nap."

When I came down, she said, "No! Mom, I'm going to watch this." This being Blues Clues.

"I said you could watch one show, that was Diego. Now it is time to go potty and have a rest in your bed."

As she walked into the bathroom, arguing the whole way, she suddenly took a new approach. "No, Mom, I want to go to sleep, right now!"

"That's fine. Just go potty first." I guess I'll have to wait until it is my turn to try this tactic. I can't really say whether it worked very well for Annabella this afternoon. It did cut down substantially on the amount of arguing before nap.

Lifestyles of the Sick and Whiney

Somehow Annabella, Redding and I all got sick this weekend. Today Red and Bel are doing a bit better. Less fever, less complaining.

Unfortunately, it is kicking my butt today. My head is in a fog, I am totally congested and coughing up a storm.

I've been meaning to get new pictures and a movie or two done, but it just isn't happening. I'm also in the middle of a data input project. Let's just say there won't be any numbers going in today. If I try, I'm afraid they won't be the right ones.

If you need me, I'll be on the couch.

Talking Points

Did you clean up your puzzle?

I'm too busy.

OK. Should I go put it in the garbage then?

No! Mom. You. Are. Naughty. Like a gorilla.

The Hard Way

Today, the end of nap time was brought to you by the letter 'A'.

Or rather, "Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaahhhhhhhhhhhh!!!!!!!!!"

So I sprinted up the stairs to Annabella's room. I found her entangled with her desk chair, which was on its side. Now, the desk chair is solid. It weighs a good 30 pounds. I kid you not. And it has a rung across the back, about 4 inches below the seat. OK, maybe 5. But that's it.

Annabella was hung up about the middle. Her lower half was inside the chair, her upper half was hanging out the back.

When I got her calmed down a bit, I asked how she got there. She said, "I was counting my cards." Then she got all upset again, and started turning herself. So she was squeezing her waist to about 5 inches across. Ouch!

I got her to stop turning, turn back, calm down a little, and asked whether she got this way by putting her legs through or her head.

Now, one would think this would be obvious, but certain dimensions of her head remain narrow, and I was in a bit of a panic myself, OK?

She finally managed to tell me that it was legs first. I informed her that she needed to relax and I'd help her push her buns back through to the other side and then it would be easy.

It took a bit of pushing, and I had to interrupt the process to go get Redding, who was howling from all the noise waking him up, and I even had a second to see that there was no obvious method for removing the rung and making the whole thing easier.

She got out and I hugged her and she sat on my lap until her heart stopped pounding.

Then I asked, "Are you ever going to do that again?"

"No, Mama, no way."

"So the chair fell over when you did that, or did you start with the chair on its side?"

"No, Mama, the chair fell over -- TWICE!" (I'm assuming it fell over backward, then came to rest on its side.)

Some things you have to learn the hard way, like, will my whole body fit through there?

When and if I am ever up for mother of the year or in front of CPS defending my choices, I would like to point out that -- No, I didn't go get the camera or the video camera. I put the needs of my child first. Although it did cross my mind.

Gimme Chickens

Annabella has some interesting eating habits. To begin with, she hates eating over the table. For the most part, if she can get away with using her fingers, she will. True, we don't stand on formality in our house, but we do try to instill some kind of understanding of table manners.

For a while there, we thought Annabella was going to be a self-designated vegetarian. She had no trouble with veggie burgers, tofu, or any other kind of meat substitute we gave her. She loved soy products, soy chips in particular, but would happily eat edamame or roasted soy bean 'nuts'. She would eat nuts and beans any time, any day.

As it turns out, though, she didn't have a serious aversion to meat, per se. She had an aversion to chicken breasts, which made up the majority of the meat we ate at that time. Turns out, it might just be a texture thing. Something about a hunk of meat, steak and salmon included, just doesn't work for her. But if you mash it up? Make turkey meatballs, turkey loaf, ground meat tacos, that kind of thing? Well, that's just fine by her!

We later learned, via her grandparents, that she would eat hotdogs. They don't have to be turkey dogs. She'll eat a corndog if you take the 'skin' off.

But chicken is still her least favorite thing in the world to eat. No matter how it is prepared. If she knows she's eating chicken, she gags. Because I'm a mean mom, I've fed her tacos with 'chili verde' in them and she loves them. Yep, I make my chili verde with chicken, not pork. So we discovered it is not the actual chicken that makes her gag, it is the idea of chicken. Or so it would seem.

Why all this hullabaloo about meat?

Well, this weekend at Costco, Annabella begged me to buy a rotisserie chicken. Begged. I told her, "Dad doesn't like to eat chicken cooked that way." In truth, her dad doesn't like to eat any chicken off the bone. But she wouldn't hear of it. She told me she'd talk to him. That I should pick one up anyway.

I didn't do it though. I didn't buy one. I had this vision of preparing dinner and being stuck with one person trying to tactfully disassociate himself from a chicken carcass. One person totally excited about the dinner but ultimately gagging once she got it into her mouth.

The begging, however, still has not stopped.

More Trouble

I forgot to mention this yesterday.

When I arrived to pick Annabella up, I chatted with one of the other moms. She had stayed to observe. They have a special room where you can watch and hear what is going on, unseen by the children.

She said that Annabella had been playing and Gabriel came up to her, put his hand out and said, "Hi friend." Annabella put her hand on his and said, "Hi friend." They held hands for a minute, then Gabriel kissed her cheek.

Gabriel was then pointedly redirected by one of the teachers and Annabella went about her business, playing.

I think it's pretty sweet. But then again, I'm glad the teachers have their eyes on what is going on.

What is an Emergency for a 4 Year Old?

So many times lately Andrew and I have looked at each other and expressed, "We are in for so much trouble." Referring to Annabella and her carefree wonderfulness.

On Valentine's Day, she told me that Gabriel is her special friend. She likes him in particular because he is naughty. Her words. We are in trouble.

A mom of another boy in the class told me that her son had made a huge fuss about giving his Valentine to Annabella. I asked her later if she was friends with him, she told me, "Not so much." We are in trouble.

Annabella came down from nap today exclaiming, "Mom! Mom! I need your help quick! There's been an emergency!"

"What kind of emergency Bel?"

"A coloring emergency, I need your help, come quick!"

Then I got close enough to see.

So I helped get her outfitted with a good washcloth, some warm water and some baby soap. Washable markers rule.

Good news? She used washable markers and only colored herself and a coloring mat. The bad news? She's starting to do more and more of this covert stuff she knows she shouldn't be doing.

The other day I took a shower while Redding was napping. When I came back downstairs, she had covered the entire handle of the oven in foam stickers. Not exactly a disaster. Just one of those things.

And for all the fuss we make over what Annabella is getting into, we know already that Red is going to be a much bigger handfull. He's way more mobile at a much younger age. His curiosity and lack of impulse control will mean many more interesting mishaps in our future.

I can't wait to see what else these two get into.

Little Valentines

Happy Valentine's Day to everyone!

The children were not exactly up for a photo shoot this morning. Here's what most of the pictures looked like...

So like a bad paparazzi scene. Red is the bashful, misbehaving celebrity. Bel is the angry, harassed publicist.

Chicks Dig Mohawks

Well, this chick does. I got Andrew this sticker when I flew to Minnesota for Mindi's baby shower. Yes, once upon a time Andrew rocked the mohawk, just for me, before he shaved his head. He held onto the sticker for a while. Then one day, we needed something new to distract Annabella while we changed her diaper. Viola! A shiny red sticker.

Perhaps it was this early introduction that makes the song "Tattooed Love Boy" so appealing to Annabella. Perhaps it is exposure to some of her uncles and cousins. At any rate, Annabella recently found the sticker while cleaning her room and decided that it deserved a special spot on her sticker wall.

Her sticker wall is a special place to put stickers she has on her clothes before nap or bed time. It's like the sticker hall of fame. I see some time in her future when she'll be tasked with scrubbing the remains of Thomas and Belle from her bathroom wall, but for now it is fine and it saves a lot of tears.

So there I was giving Red a bath and that sticker over his shoulder made me wonder if his hair grew in a natural faux-hawk, like Annabella's did back then. Sure enough! And he likes it, he really likes it!

I personally can't think of anything better than a happy baby in a bath, with a mohawk.

Oh, except running away from my beautiful family for a weekend of girly good times in the Napa Wine Valley. Now, if you'll excuse me, I need to go kiss the subzero wind chill goodbye. Maybe there will be pictures on Monday. That depends on what the girls say and what kind of trouble we get into.

The Best Children, EVER

Even when she's dressed like a little girl, she manages to look much older sometimes.

Just now she told me she'd rather not watch TV. I'm in shock. All my hard work is paying off, again.

And why are the nude bath photos of Redding so much more modest than the naked baby pictures of Annabella? Maybe I learned my lesson. Maybe my son arranges his own washcloths. I'm not saying.

Things I Learned at Parenting Class

If you live here, in the frozen north, and you are my age, you must have at least 5 children. The oldest are in high school.

(If you have 5 children, why do you need a parenting class? If you haven't learned how to parent yet, you are unlikely to pick it up now. Or what makes THIS child worth learning something for?)

There are some really strange parents and children here. Overheard on the way out of the child care room, a mom bending over her 4 year old son leafing through a pocket bible, "Maybe one of these students will read to you from your God and Jesus book."

(He's 4. Isn't Bible a lot easier to day? Why do you say God and Jesus book with such disdain, if you're willing to let your child foist his religion on unsuspecting high school students? Did you see the looks they shot you, by the way?)

Some people come to parenting classes not to learn something, but to tell other parents how to do their job.

(It's totally awesome. I didn't stick around to see if any actual fist fights broke out. Hopefully the really bossy lady wouldn't be involved so she could tell them to 'use their words'.)

These people will leave their children with anyone.

(Not just the high school students shoved into a room the size of a broom closet, which was hastily prepared for the event. But one mom actually asked if I would watch her two kids while she went and got her car and brought it around to the front of the school. I did, because I was afraid of who she'd ask if I said no. Needless to say, I was pleased when she returned, as I think Andrew would be mad if I brought home two more children than I left with.)

If the air outside is -14 degrees and the wind is blowing hard, it's probably a -35 degree windchill. If you have to walk more than a dozen yards from your car to any heated building, both of your children will be crying by the time you get there.

(And while I'm aware that bare skin will begin to freeze in under 5 minutes in a -35 degree windchill, I'm not sure how tears affect that process. Will the moisture speed it up or will the salt content of the tears lower the freezing point of the skin?)

And the most important thing I learned at parenting class this morning: I have the most awesome kids in a 50 mile radius, at least. They are happy, easy-going, and eventually have conformed to a schedule making them even easier to get along with.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Yesterday Annabella and I were having a nice little tea party. Redding was trying very hard to be Godzilla or Mothra and get in there and destry, Destroy, DESTROY! But without much luck, he gave up and found other toys to occupy himself.

I said to Annabella, "You make lovey tea, can I have some more please, sweetie?"

To which she replied, "You can call me "Your Majesty."

Bringing Out the Girly

Last Friday night, Annabella was invited for a sleepover at her Gragra and Papa's house. She could not have been happier. That's 2, yes 2, adults, focusing 100% of their attention on her. Wahoo!

I dropped her off around 11 a.m. and took Red over to visit with Mindi and her sister Julia. Later Andrew and Red and I went back to Gragra and Papa's house for dinner.

Over dinner, Annabella announced that she would be doing the following things later: Putting on pajamas, reading fashion magazines, and giving each other makeovers a.k.a. putting on makeup.

At first I was a little surprised. Then I remembered the pajama party episode of Max and Ruby on the DVD we have. That is exactly what Ruby does at her pajama party with her friends.

Andrew and I were having a good giggle over this, imagining Gragra and Papa with their hair in curlers, lots of eye shadow, etc. Just like the cartoon.

They pulled it off, though, making one very happy little girl. How? Annabella's first manicure.

Do I have a girly girl or what?

Friday Video

Happy Friday everyone! Here's a little movie I made of Annabella and Andrew having a guitar lesson.

It isn't exactly action packed, but it is kind of sweet. That's Red giggling in the background.

Enjoy.

Hey Auntie Tammie!

Thanks for the super-cool leg warmers! Thank you, too Uncle Joe, Kayla, and Bailey! We love you guys!

Miss Independence

For me, it is strange that my 4 year old little girl is thinking about being on her own.

I blame myself. She has recently informed me that she wants to have a cat and a dog. The cat will be named Oatmeal, it will be pink and purple. The dog will be named Pesky and it will be red.

When she asks repeatedly if we can go to the pet store, things like that, I tell her that when she is all grown up and has her own house, she can have all the pets she wants.

Me? I'm not a pet person. I'm allergic to cats. I don't like dogs. I really don't like rodents of any kind. Perhaps it is selfish. So be it, I don't see it changing any time soon.

Well, now, I thought Annabella was happy as a clam here in Minnesota. She said to me the other day, "In Aptos, we lived close to the beach. Here, we live close to my school." I asked, "And which is better?" She said, "My school."

OK.

So, I was surprised yesterday over breakfast when Annabella announced that she was moving to Aptos. To live. I asked how she would get there, she said, "Don't worry, I can drive myself."

"Sweet girl, you can't drive. You have to be about 16 years old to get a drivers license to drive a car."

"Well, then you can drive me."

"But honey, that would take like a week, and what would we do with your brother? He doesn't really like super long car rides."

That was a stumper.

It made me feel pretty sad. But I'm trying not to take it too seriously. Come on, I think we all day dream about moving back to the beach. Especially when the high temperature on saturday was -2. Not 2, -2. Ugh. That is ugly.

New Pictures

I've started maybe a dozen posts in the last few days, completed none.

Suffice it to say, I'm a day late and a dollar short.

Here's a picture. You can't see that Annabella has an ear infection and a lung infection. You can't see that Redding is crawling his little legs off and eating like a horse. A horse with no teeth, but still a horse.

More news and updates this weekend.

Happy Friday everyone!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

The first makes me wonder if maybe she hasn't heard too much Gwen Stefani. Annabella asked me the other day if she could play her new game: Hella Fun. A.K.A. Elefun .

The second leads me to a solid fact: The kid has been listening to way too many adult songs on Guitar Hero. Annabella, "Daddy, will you talk dirty to me?"

She loves the song in spite of, or maybe because of, the fact that Andrew told her it was about pigs and how dirty they are.

I see therapy in her future. Serious long term therapy.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Last night I made breakfast for dinner. It's one of the fun little things I like to do. Usually Annabella does a mediocre job, but last night she was doing a great job.

Between bites, my princess obsessed daughter announced, "This is the worse dance ever!" She then whistled and called for her princesses to join her. Did I mention she was wearing her pink princess dress-up dress?

She's a little obsessed with having a ball. If you find yourself at my house next week, please do not be surprised if you find the living room set up for a formal ball, once we get the Christmas tree out.

Just a Virus

What a wreck we are. It is shocking.

I was feeling pretty sorry for us all. Annabella, Redding and I have been fighting off a cold since about a week before Christmas. Then I took Annabella in to see the doctor today and the waiting room was cram packed with people. It seemed almost every one of them had the same runny nose, tired disposition, and occasional cough we've been having.

My cough is finally getting better. I'm sure Andrew will be pleased to have less (mind you I didn't say no) snoring in the near future. But Annabella seems to be getting worse. She was up a couple times the last two nights coughing and coughing. So much so that I broke out her inhaler. When I do that, I know I need to get her looked at. The good news is no ear infections and no wheezing. I never imagined I'd be a tad disappointed to have a doctor tell me she just has the virus that's going around. Why on earth would I be disappointed? Because for her whole life, 98% of the time it is something more and she's put on antibiotics and maybe an inhaler regimen and maybe even some steroids, and she's feeling better in 24 hours.

Now? Now we've entered the realm where we just need to be patient. Push liquids and rest, and let her body fight off the virus. It is simultaneously gratifying to have her be just like everyone else, and frustrating that we can't just fix her up real quick like.

Redding, tough guy that he is, has stuck with just the runny nose. I'm hoping he'll continue that way. I'm not feeling real super, but as I said my cough seems better, so I'm happy.

Andrew is home from work with a bad headache. He's upstairs sleeping right now. Hopefully in his weakened state he won't succumb to the prevailing virus.

What She Says

And how she says it.

A wicked combo of too much Wii boxing and a new princess dress-up dress led to this:

Frosted Trees at Sunset

The night before last, when I was up taking care of Red, I thought I heard the sound of much snow melting off the roof. What I actually was hearing was rain. The rain was followed by snow. Think of it as a white wash for all the trees in the area. Think of it as terrible news for drivers. However you think of it, it surely is beautiful. It is particularly beautiful when the sun finally manages to peek out at sunset and turn some of it a lovely salmon color.

Annabellla finally got to spend more time outside in the snow with her dad. Whatever she's doing out there, sledding, shoveling, or playing, she usually winds up sitting and contemplating the snow.

She decided to name her sled. Gene, the racing machine. Where she gets these things, I can not tell you. All I know is that she is desperately cute out there tromping through the snow, or using her little shovel to try and help dad clear the driveway.

Asserting her Personhood

Ever since I stopped working, I really pretty much stopped learning how to do new stuff on the computer. Unless it relates to my blog. In that case, I do learn things from time to time, but it takes me far longer than it should take a cognizant human being. I wish to present my first online home movie. Taken today at lunch.

Now, Annabella looks pretty normal, for a kid who hasn't had her hair brushed yet today. (For what it's worth, Annabella, Redding and I all have colds, poor Andrew, that's why we're not brushed.)

What you don't see in that movie, you get in this picture.

Once I got Redding down for his morning nap, I went to take a shower. It was at this time Annabella finally decided it was time to get dressed. Yes, I let her tell me when it was time, we do that sometimes. So, I told her to go pick out her own clothes and get dressed. She picked out: A purple sweater which is now way too small for her, and a pair of striped snowflake print tights. I asked if she was going to pick out a skirt or pants or even shorts to go with the outfit, she said no. She outright refused, in fact I was lucky I was able to convince her to take of the tights and add in some underpants.

It is a good thing we aren't going anywhere today. It could be a real battle. But unlike Adam Sandler in Big Daddy, I will not be feeding her packets of ketchup for dinner nor will I let her change her name to Frankenstein.

How Can I Argue?

I've asserted before that I believe that 3 is the year of the lawyer. Yes? At least it is the year that Annabella discovered and honed her arguing skills, like a keen knife.

Well, she is now 4. Over lunch this afternoon she informed me that it was a good day to go to the mall. I told her that it wasn't a good day because her brother was fussy and I was not quite myself.

Why do I go into such detail? Because I am a sucker for answering the question "why?". I will continue the conversation ad nauseum, on most days. Also, because this is the best conversational styling my 4 year old daughter engages in. The alternative is saying or yelling the same thing over and over. Why, is therefore, by default, more interesting.

OK, sometimes she makes up stories, which are the best of all. But not conversation, because if you jump in on her story, she gets mad.

So, once we had firmly established with a series of 7 or 8 no's that we were not going to the mall Annabella tried a new tactic. She outlined for me the 5 step process necessary for her to go see Santa.

Mama, there are five steps. Step one, we go find Santa's castle. (In Capitola, Santa lives in a sand castle.) Step two, we walk by and go to the candy store. (Yes, it is right by the candy store.) Step three, we say hello and get a coloring book and crayons. (Yep, last year we had one failed visit where we got close enough to get the book and crayons, but not close enough to actually get a picture with the jolly old elf.) Step four, we go and talk to Santa.

And what is step five?

What?

You said there were five steps.

Five?

Yes, you said five.

What?

That's when my daughter tries to pretend I'm crazy, and I should really just be so charmed by the plan she has told me about, that I should stop asking about this mysterious step five.

I personally can't believe she remembers the huge ordeal of steps we went through last year to get a picture with Santa. Hopefully when we go tomorrow (if we do get out to go tomorrow) it won't be such an ordeal. Though it will be sad that it won't be the same Santa, who actually remembers her from year to year. And Santa won't live in a sand castle.

This girl has got her Auntie Tammie's sense of occasion. She was all about making things just so for her dad on his birthday. For Christmas she has been a powerful force.

We need a tree! Where is our tree?

We have to put our stockings up! Up! The stockings must be hung up!

Can we bake some cookies?

It's Christmas! It's Christmas! It's Christmas Eve? No? Not yet? What?

My Country

Last night while I was making dinner, Annabella came into the kitchen all excited.

"Mama, mama! Check out the countries I made on my etchasketch!"

"Nice, babe, can you tell me about them?"

"There are three. This one is Coon Rapids, that's where we live. This one is Colorado, I want to visit there. This one is Chuck E. Cheese, I've never been to that country. It's fun there, they have games. We should go there sometimes."

"Maybe some time we will."

I don't think I've seen any commercials for the place. Maybe someone at preschool was talking about it. That is most likely since she had school yesterday.

A long time ago, before I moved to California last time, I had an epiphany in a grocer store parking lot. After having this heart pounding sense of triumph from pushing a fully loaded cart through huge drifts of snow in an unplowed lot, I thought to myself, "There has got to be an easier way."

Snow can make the most mundane of activities a challenge. And I don't think it's just me. The shocked and slightly worn out look of all the other parents dropping their kids of at preschool yesterday confirms it. It snowed most of yesterday. The roads were a mess. But there we all were, bundled and exhilarated, proud.

Crazy.

Stats

Shocking. Just plain old shocking for two preemies to be so big.

Annabella was in the 85th percentile for her age a month or so ago, at her school readiness check. At the doctor yesterday, she was in the 95h percentile for height. She's maintaining the 50th percentile for weight, which is acceptable, too.

Redding, on the other hand, is 100% dominating the growth chart for uncorrected age. Where Annabella was over a year old before we stopped adding in that extra 3 months she needed to be established on the growth chart, Red is totally uncorrected already. On the regular growth chart for boys who are 7 months old, he is in the 75th percentile for head circumference and weight, and the 50th percentile for height.

Way to grow kids!

Everything else checked out just great at the doctor yesterday. After much online research I found a doctor just added to the Columbia Park Medical Group in Andover. Dr. Stella Evans was recently added to the staff and she specializes in post-NICU preemies. Not that the kids have a great deal of special needs, it's just nice to have a pediatrician with a solid understanding of lingering issues of prematurity. Like Red may be slightly anemic and probably has a little reflux. Like Bella needing to have chest colds treated quickly and aggressively. Things like that.

Dr. Stella, as she asked Annabella to call her, has a great deal of patience and a wonderful way with children. After having such positive experiences with Dr. Scobel and Dr. Baskerville, it is hard to imagine finding another doctor who is just as great, but I think we did.

Pictures

Like 'em? Check out my flickr photos. Dawn's Flickr Photos.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Andrew came home from work last night, wearing a suit.

Bella ran to greet him at the door.

She said, "Nice meeting costume Dada."

Exactly.

What's in a Name?

It wasn't long into my pregnancy with Annabella that we knew we were having a girl. Up until that point we had been talking about all kinds of names. Most of the names we were able to agree on were boy names. Morgan Xavier. Ian Vincent. Good names.

When I was about 4 months along, we went to a terrible Thai restaurant in Fremont, for dinner one night. At that dinner we decided to take the gloves off and put all the weirdest names we could come up with on the table. I quickly ran out of names and started throwing out the names of 80's musicians.

Andrew? He's got a million wild and crazy names. Just ask him.

Then, thinking of the lead singer of Bow Wow Wow, of "I Want Candy" fame, I said, "What about Annabella?" Andrew wrote a great tribute post on his original blog, a tribute to her namesake. A girl with a free spirit, an attitude, a mohawk. We had no idea at the time that our little girl would need all the strength of spirit and attitude she could muster. It just worked out right.

Months later, driving to Stanford to visit her in the NICU, we'd request "Punk Rock Girl" by They Might Be Giants for our tough little fighter. It made me smile then, when I needed to most. It makes me almost cry and laugh at the same time now, just thinking about it.

Now, with Red, we went through a whole slew of girl names. I was really looking forward to Bella having a little sister named Lucy. But before very long, we knew we were having a boy. Redding was kind enough to pee on ultrasound for us. Live action. Very entertaining. But no more thoughts of Lucy.

We went round and round, or over the Santa Cruz Mountains to visit family and friends, many times, discussing names the whole way. Even Bella loved getting in on the act, vetoing bad names.

We loved Jack. Jack was the best possible name, until we realized that we were hearing it everywhere. Every small boy we met or heard anything about was named Jack. But we decided a common name wouldn't be so bad. We got so far as to decide that Jack should have Andrew's middle name. Jack Russell. Now that was a perfect name. Except, well, that it is the name of a dog breed. Damn.

Before the dog-boy name, there was Indiana. We were all fired up. Andrew thought Crazy would be a good middle name for Indiana. Indiana Crazy Jenkins. Crazy is my middle name. But then everyone we talked to said that Indiana is now a girls name. Someone tell Indiana Jones. Quick.

Next thing you know, Bob, John, and Frank will be girls names, too.

Then Andrew and Bella went to Minnesota, so I could rest, for like two months and there was a minimum of name talk. For me, there was a minimum of talk overall.

Andrew and Bella got home to California just in time to pick me up from being watched overnight at the hospital. That afternoon, Andrew said, "I know you vetoed last names as first names a while ago, but what about Redding?" And a light came on. It was crystal clear to me, just as Annabella had once been the only choice for Andrew, once he heard me say it. We made it in just under the wire. We picked the name on a Sunday and Red was born on Tuesday.

There were a lot of circumstances that made Redding the name to choose. First, Red was one of Andrew's grandfather's nicknames. It is my favorite color and Annabella's favorite color. It is the name of our favorite character in Shawshank Redemption. The music of Otis Redding holds a very special place in our hearts. Oh, and it's about the greatest sounding name we could ever possibly come up with.

Yep. That's how these two kids got the best possible names. At least we think so.

Reality TV?

Tonight, when I was enjoying a first ever, first-run episode of CSI (the original, in Las Vegas), I heard something. Something unreal.

Not that I know much about police investigations, or even the FBI. I don't.

"Most 4 year olds will do what you say..."

Really? Are you serious? I don't concur. Let me present exhibit A.

That's not red eye from the flash. It's the evil peeking out.

Out of the Mouths of Babes

I'm a pee-pee toilet train.

Give me an H!

With glee, she ran from house to house, covering our court and the one next to ours.

Happy Halloween!

It is the age

On Tuesday, I got to spend the afternoon in Bella's preschool class. I was quite impressed. They really have a nice program. One of the funnier moments was when Bella announced during circle time that she'd just pooped in the bathroom. You know you're in a room full of 4 year olds and their teachers when this happens and no one even blinks.

This afternoon, I was going to the bathroom. I can't believe I just wrote that, to put up on the blog. Yes, world, I use the restroom.

Anyway, Bella comes busting in and says, "Mama, I have to go potty." So I tell her, "OK, honey, can you go upstairs? (Because we have that option now, yeah!)" She says, "No, Mama, I can't hold it that long."

So I go about getting out of her way. And she leans over around me and says, "Nice poop, buddy."

Oh yes, I thought I left every shred of my privacy and dignity in the maternity ward at Lucille Packard Children's Hospital. Yet, somehow, there's always more to be stripped (or thrown!) away.

And then I found this great picture on Lannia's Flickr account.

Kinda sets a mood, doesn't it? This picture was not taken today, in my house. It was taken at a hotel in Eden Prairie, when Lannia was in town for the Renaissance Festival.

Portraits of Annabella

Andrew went to town. Enjoy.

I'd like to thank my husband for taking some of the most interesting pictures of Bella, ever. And I'd like to thank my stainless steel refrigerator for being a superb psychedelic background. And I'd like to thank my in-laws for ripping out a cabinet and taking off trim to try and make it fit. And I'd like to thank my husband again, for shaving down a cabinet and getting the refrigerator up to ramming speed in order to cram it securely in its spot.

Thanks everyone, for making these photos possible and for making my first and favorite appliance usable in my new house.

Potty Talk

If you are eating or easily grossed out, you can go ahead and stop reading now.

Last night, when I was getting Bella ready for bed, I was really tired. I was sitting on the side of the tub across from her, waiting for her to finish stalling. I mean, going potty.

She hops down. Literally. For although she is quite tall, her legs dangle off the ground and she refuses to use a step anymore. She hops down, steps over to me, grabs my face in both hands, brings her face in close. Closer, closer, too close! So she's literally almost eyeball to eyeball with me.

And when I make eye contact with her in this manner and she knows she has my full attention she says to me, "I got peepee dripping down my leg."

Crazy girl.

So the kids actually went to sleep fairly early this evening and Andrew and I were chatting. Yes, we were both awake, together, in the same room and no one was crying off in the distance.

Andrew has been, well, trying to impose some structure on our little dreamers potty time. He doesn't stand over her or anything, but it's not unusual for him to disperse a drive-by "wipe really good", "pull your pants up", "clean off the toilet seat", "now wash your hands up", "use soap", and that sort of thing as our lovely girl dawdles her way through a potty break of an evening or weekend.

I said to him tonight, "You know, if you keep micromanaging her going to the bathroom, she's never going to be able to do a god damn thing by herself."

He smirks, gives me a wise look and says, "Oh, I think we should give her maybe another month or so of reminders, just to get it down."

"What? Why?"

The other night when I was getting her ready for bed, she wiped, then realized there was pee on her leg. She went to wipe that up, but forgot that she'd already tossed the toilet paper she was using into the toilet. So then she's got pee on her hand. Then, for some unknown reason, she put her hand in her mouth. After which, she informed me that it tastes yucky.

I would think so. Iew.

Halloween is Coming!

This beautiful pumpkin patch is just a few miles up the road from us. We had a bit of sunshine today for the first time in what feels like a month and it was a gorgeous day to be outside.

When I was in college in St. Paul, my friend Anne said that the sky is always bluer in October. I don't know if that's true, but it has always stuck with me. The contrast of the blue with the orange is certainly spectacular.

Accentuate the Positive

Here is a nice close up of Bella on her first day of preschool. She could not have been more excited.

Yesterday we had an appointment with the local school district, to have Bella evaluated for kindergarten and/or special services. You would think that because we've had so many different evaluations for her in the past, that this would be a breeze, right? But I was quite nervous.

I wasn't nervous that Bella wouldn't do well, exactly. I was more nervous that the evaluators would make assumptions about her, based on her being born so early. More nervous that tests would be administered poorly. More concerned that Bella would be in one of her I'm-sick-cranky-and-uncooperative moods.

As it turns out, the evaluations were very much like the ones she's had in the past, both by her developmental therapist, Ms. Vickie, and at Stanford. She was asked to do things with blocks, draw things, etc. The results were then immediately discussed with me.

Bella is doing well. She's not yet doing some of the 4 year old things, but then she's only been 4 for 2 months now. So, she'll probably learn to draw people, hold a pencil better, and hop on one foot in the next year. Preschool will probably help.

The person who checked out her health history, vision, and hearing was very kind and very patient. Bella's vision is about 20/36, which is normal for her age. With our genes, just about the time her eyes mature to 20/20 vision, they'll start becoming near sighted. Sorry kiddo. Her hearing is normal, despite the many ear infections she's had over the last 3 years. Yeah!

As it turns out, everyone who has been remarking on her being tall for her age is quite correct. Bella is in the 85th -ile for height. That means that for girls, age 4 years and 2 months, only 15 of them are taller than her. Surprisingly she's also moved up to the 50th %-ile for weight, she just looks so skinny because she's so tall.

All-in-all, Bella did a great job. She was very bubbly, polite and cooperative, in addition to proving herself to be bright and healthy. She made me proud.

Redding is also developing nicely. He's sitting more, with less help. He has rolled from his tummy to his back a few times now. He's a big talker, and I'll have some movies up in the next week or so to prove it. He's happily eating oatmeal baby cereal. He's not a fan of the rice cereal and the first peas we tried made him fuss all night. So we'll stick with oatmeal alone for another week.

While his ear infection has cleared up with the amoxicillin he was taking, he did continue to get sicker overall, developing a nasty cough. Now, given my experience, hearing a 6 month old coughing is heartbreaking. But the doctor assured me that with the new antibiotic, zythromax, that should clear up pretty quickly.

He's got quite a personality and he's not afraid to show it. Even sick, he's pretty darn sweet and entertaining.

Out of the Mouths of Babes VIII

"Princesses punch real hard. Like that."

Strange combination of a princess dress-up dress she's suddenly not afraid of anymore and too much Wii.

Loud Noises!

Most everyone knows how Bella hates loud noises. It started way back in the NICU. She would startle when loud things happened. She would flip out when someone closed a 3-ring binder loudly. Even once home, loud velcro used to make her shake.

Fire engines are cool. Fire engine sirens? Not so cool. Up until I told her that the sound means that someone needs help and the firemen are going to help them. Then they were OK.

Recently, Bella experienced a Fire Drill at school. She was a wreck and spoke of nothing else for days. And days. And days. So much so that her preschool teachers e-mailed me to ask that we talk to her about it at home, to help her feel more comfortable.

Right. As if we'd talked of anything else since.

Yes, my child was the child in preschool in the corner rocking, saying, "Never hurt Charlie Babbitt."

OK, Rainman she's not. Not really. She's more subtle. "I have a question..." "You remember the day the loud buzzer went off?" Every time she had my attention, her dad's attention, or the attention of one of her teachers. Possibly she spoke of it to the other kids, I'm not sure.

Well, we were just beginning to see the light at the end of the tunnel on that one. She was beginning to speak of other things, like the seasons, the icky sticky bubble gum song, etc.

Bella has missed both days of school this week, because she has a wicked cough. She's on antibiotics, but she was coughing herself crazy, I she's on her inhalers, too. Poor girl.

She's been on the same inhaler of albuterol for these almost 2 years of occasional use. Last night she had some of that and some flovent right before bed, but by 11 p.m. they were no longer helping and she coughed herself sick. Twice.

I was just about to flee to the emergency room when I decided to try the new albuterol and some steam, to see if that would help.

Within a minute of the new albuterol she wasn't coughing at all, where she had been barely able to get a breath without coughing before. So, we relaxed in the steamy bathroom for a while and enjoyed how warm and nice it was.

After a while, I told Bella to hop in bed and that I'd be right there with the cool mist vaporizer. She did. While I was running around getting the vaporizer set up, and putting Bella’s white blanket in the laundry chute, the smoke detector outside the bathroom went off.

In fact, I was directly under it, less than 3 feet away when it started and I nearly lost it. I was so tired and it was so loud and surreal. There I was in the hall flailing a pukey baby blanket to clear the steam, shutting the bathroom door, cursing myself for my stupidity, when it finally stopped.

I went about getting the water for the vaporizer, unaware that my daughter was cowering under her blankets, shaking like a leaf.

Andrew talked her down. I felt like the worst parent of all time. I know loud noises scare her, I had been scared, but it hadn't occurred to me to go to her once the alarm was done.

I was so shaken; I didn't sleep. I couldn't fall asleep.

Bella and I would have a few more visits last night. More coughing jags, leading to more albuterol. She even asked me to sleep with her for a while, and I did. Well, I didn't sleep, but I did stay with her while she slept. I held her. I held her hand. I held her down when she woke flying off the bed and shaking like a leaf, as if being electrocuted. I told her I was there and everything was OK.

Around 4:30 a.m. she decided she was fine. She wasn't coughing or scared anymore, and I got to return to my bed.

Every parent has been through this kind of thing. Right now I'm thinking of Jodi, when Ethan was having febrile seizures. It is so painful to see your children sick or scared or both. Last night I found myself cursing Bella's prematurity. Cursing myself for my own stupid mistake with the smoke detector.

At 4 years old, 99% of the time I can just think of my girl as a healthy, smart, strong, beautiful girl. Then that sneaky 1% of the time, I am forcefully reminded of the long, hard road she's had to get to 4. Of ventilators, a pulmonary hemorrhage, pulmonary interstitial emphysema, collapsing her lungs on purpose, a drainage tube running from her tiny lungs to the outside of her little body, and the vague and ominous diagnosis of chronic lung disease.

I am reminded what a miracle she truly is and that I need to renew my efforts for the March of Dimes. Being a parent with a sick child is hard enough, without all the extra baggage.

Sure is a Lot of Weather

Minnesota experiences quite a swing in weather.

We've had more electrical storms since we arrived, than Bella has ever seen in her entire life in California.

Last night a wicked electrical storm blew in around 3 a.m. The lightning was amazing, the thunder was terrible. The kind that sounds like your house is falling down.

I was up, couldn't sleep listening to the storm. I've never been a good storm sleeper. Bella woke up and called to me. I went in to see her and we talked about how thunder is nothing to be scared of. I repeated what is becoming like a mantra for Bella "Loud noises don't hurt you." And this time she replied, "But Mama, the thunder makes my ears EXPLODE!"

If that is the case, then I guess loud noises, thunder in particular, can hurt you.

Catching Up

I feel like I could write 8 different blog entries to catch up with what has been going on here since I lost regular access to a networked computer.

I believe I mentioned that Bella wants to be called Annabella at school. When we were at Borders the other night to find "The Mouse and the Motorcycle" she introduced herself to two little girls as Annabella. I asked her yesterday, "So, do you want Dad and I to call you Annabella?" She said, "Yes." I thought we'd have until she was at least 10 for something like that, but this kid has always known her own mind.

Preschool has been going well. Annabella is showing a lot of interest in painting and mixing colors, and is learning to recognize her long name. It's much harder than Bella, because there are so many letters and there are two other girls in her class with names that start with A. But yesterday she actually spent about 10 minutes working on tracing her name. I think it may get a lot easier for her to recognize her name if she'll do that a couple times a week.

Annabella's preschool class has two teachers and 13 other children. She loves her teachers and loves playing with the other kids, though she hasn't learned most of their names yet. She certainly knows her teachers names and already has a favorite. Mrs. N is the younger of the two and has taken it upon herself to help fix Annabella's ponytails every day. That apparently scores huge points with Annabella or it is just a sign that she is already fond of my girl.

There is a dress up area at school and every day now I hear stories of playing Princess with Cami. Last week they decided to hold a ball at their royal castle. Something tells me Cami is more a classic Disney girl than Annabella, who is mostly a Pixar fanatic. Or maybe its just Andrew who is a Pixar fanatic. I know Disney owns Pixar, but I like to make the distinction. It's not like any of the main characters have a mother in movies from either.

Redding is turning into an interactive little guy. The other day at Target he actually played a full game of peek-a-boo with me. Pulling a burp cloth up over his own face when I'd say "Where's Red?" Then pulling it down and laughing when I'd say, "There he is!" I thought it was sweet, but was surprised to see we had an entourage of fans following us around the store, to watch my cutie play a game.

It's so different having a 5 month old that isn't mostly a 2 month old, if you know what I mean. It's so refreshing to be able to read a book on infant development and see that he's doing great and to look ahead to what is to come in the next few months. With Annabella, sure I could have read the books, but she reached milestones on her own schedule entirely and I needed to not stress out about it. So I didn't even look. I was just always pleasantly surprised when she did something new.

Redding is also a big talker. He was going on and on the other day, without opening his mouth. It was wild. Not a one-time thing, just talking and talking, "mmmba hmmmmbe ommmmmbe". I kept telling him he had to open his mouth to let the words out; I couldn't understand him that way. But he kept on, quite undeterred.

Now his thing is to try pushing both his clasped hands into his mouth as he tries to form different sounds. Not very easy to understand either, but certainly just as entertaining.

He's about outgrown his 3-6 month clothes and I'm scrambling to find what 6 - 9 month stuff we own. I thought I had some, but I could be crazy.

Speaking of thought I had... Could be crazy... It is quite remarkable what I can't seem to find. I've unpacked every box of stuff for the kitchen (with a lot of help from Andrew) and still cannot locate my toaster or my Brita pitcher. I've actually been making toast under the broiler, because I love it so. It's actually quite quick with the stove we have. But I'm thinking if I don't find ours soon, I get a new red one.

I haven't found some of Bella's special blankets yet. I haven't found most of Red's bigger clothes. I can't seem to find the few warmer coats I had. Yes, I have like 8 zip up sweatshirt jackets. But will they suffice when it's 30 degrees outside? Not so much.

On the other hand, I've found a few dozen scarves and tablecloths I didn't know I had. They seem to have multiplied like rabbits. It's crazy.

Things I knew I wouldn't find: our vacuum (a house-warming present from Andrew's parents when we moved in together back in July 1997) and our lawn mower. We ran out of room. Ask Andrew. Since it means that I have a new Dyson Slim , I say, "whatever." The Dyson is fantastic and super easy to use, which makes having more than 3x the square footage to keep vacuumed a lot easier to take.

Since we've been back we've had pizza from GreenMill and Davanni's. Oh how I missed them. Most excellent pizza. Not quite the California Cuisine of Pizza 1's "My Better Half", but really solid tasty pizza. Good crust, great sauce, excellent toppings.

Speaking of Minnesota institutions, I've been grocery shopping at Cub Foods. True it is a warehouse store and I'd rather be shopping at Byerly's, Whole Foods, or even the new Trader Joe's in Maple Grove, but there are 3 Cub Foods within 5 miles of our house. I noticed the other day that although it is annoying that they don't bag your groceries for you, they have a huge advantage over California grocery stores in that they have room to sell almost anything you could want. The ethnic food section has not just ingredients for Mexican and Chinese food. They have a huge selection of kosher, German, Norwegian, Mexican, Chinese, Thai, Japanese, Indian, and African foods. Plus, in the baking section, they have a rack about 6 feet wide and 8 feet tall containing every cookie chip you could ever want. Not just chocolate and butterscotch, they've got cherry and cinnamon flavors, too. So, while I cold spend an hour at Safeway looking at the food, I could spend days at Cub. And I have. While Annabella is at school for 2 hours 2 times a week, Redding and I go and walk around the different Cubs in the area. Yes, there is one that is better than the other two.

I'll post more soon, and photos will be sorted out soon, so I can post more of those.

We're settling in here. I think we all (OK, except maybe Red) miss California a little and the people there a lot.

Out of the Mouths of Babes VII

Tonight we went out shopping for shoes after dinner. The height of Friday night excitement.

On the way, we were discussing our fair city, and Bella busted into song, "I love my city, love my city..." Which quickly degraded into, "Don't touch my shoes, only big girls can touch them, don't touch them, don't touch them, don't touch them..."

Mind you, she is singing this whole thing, with some various noises thrown in as interludes. It was hilariously charming.

Sorry for my absence. Andrew is migrating me to a new computer. A super fancy powerbook G4. It is only the second computer I've ever owned and I sure hope it holds up as well as the ibook has these last two years.

Out of the Mouths of Babes VI

A recurring theme here at Another Sunrise.

Heard last night, as we drove home from dinner with Andrew's parents...

Red was fussing a little. Bella sings, "It's OK, it's Ooooookay. I love you. I love you. Soooooooo much."

P.S. Chipotle is no taqueria, but they make pretty tasty burritos. And as for Cold Stone? It's OK, but I would seriously take a Blizzard from Dairy Queen over Cold Stone, any day.

Out of the Mouths of Babes V

And the hits just keep on coming...

Last night we had spaghetti, spicy italian turkey sausages, and steamed zucchini for dinner. Redding managed to eat a bit of his rice cereal. I was over the moon about it, gushing, "Who's my big cereal eater?"

Bella said, "Red is!"

"And who's my big zucchini eater?"

"I am!" Bella cheered. After a bit of chewing she added, "And who's your big sausage eater? Dad!"

You heard it here first, folks.

Out of the Mouths of Babes IV

Bella has always been fascinated with the changing of her brother. Clothes, diapers, whatever, she's got to be in on the action. She hasn't had any questions. She's seen it all.

A while back, Bella asked me about her nipples. Yesterday I was changing her brother's clothes and she says, "Hey little dude, nice nipples you got there."

Exactly.

Scenes from a Preschool

Today when I was dropping Bella off at school, a little boy in her class walked up to her and got right up in her face. He then announced, "Someday, I'm going to marry you." He then paused, checked her reaction, which was confusion, and restated, "Yes, someday, I'm going to marry you." She then turned away from him and started talking to a baby in a car seat carrier.

Bella did not look to me for any input or clarification, so I let it go. The boy's grandmother looked at me sheepishly. I smiled and she said, "I'm sorry..."

I replied, "Don't worry about it. At this age they are either lovers or fighters. It's actually pretty sweet."

From there the rest of the drop-off went smoothly. Her first real day of preschool. How cool. So, I took Redding back to the car, to take off and do our thing. I got him settled into his seat and climbed in to start the car. The radio was on and "Here Comes the Sun" was playing. Now I didn't have a sad thought in my head about Bella going to school at all. But at some very interesting moments in my life that song has come on. On the radio, in restaurants, in elevators. I heard it and I teared up. My life really is changing; my little girl is growing up. I can't believe it.

Then when I picked her up, she was still happy as can be. Very excited about some drawings she had done that were in her backpack to take home. She had written her cousin Kayla letters. She was giddy to get them mailed.

I asked her if she played with any of the kids in her class today and she said yes. She then went on to say that, "Some of the kids were bad."

"What do you mean they were bad? What happened?"

"Well, I was playing with them, then they turned into ninjas, then they turned back into kids."

What a full day; her first marriage proposal (Kurt may be disappointed) and ninjas. That is preschool.

From Zero to Grown Up

In about 60 seconds.

Today is Bella's orientation to preschool. A kindergarten readiness class that she will attend 2 days a week for the whole school year.

I had to fill out some forms. One asks, "Are there any concerns you have about your child entering this program?" Then there are exactly 3 blank lines. I could write a dissertation. Will she be good? Will she cooperate? Will she have a cow? Will she learn the worst possible manners? Will she start talking back (more)? Will she suddenly need cool clothes? Will she rebel? Will she have accidents? Will she ever want to come home? Will she be cool? Will she be popular? Will she be ridiculed? Will she become depressed?

That barely skims the surface of my level of worry and neurosis upon her entering school. None of which really has anything to do with her.

Part of me wants to tell them about how she was a preemie, etc. But I reconsidered and because she is just so much like other kids, in my opinoin, I don't want to set the teachers expectations low, or get them primed to find some sort of problem.

Then I wanted to write, "Not that I'm going to tell you about."

I settled for a simple, "No."

What, me worry?

Out of the Mouths of Babes III

"Look mama! Two bird peckers!"

"What?"

"TWO BIRD PECKERS!"

"Where?"

"Out at the bird feeder."

Using all my strength I managed not to ask her how she knew they were both male, and I said, "I think those are actually finches, babe."

"I know Mama, I just like to call them bird peckers."

The Things Kids Say

What makes Redding giggle? Crazy, as sung by Patsy Cline and written by Willie Nelson. What makes him scream in utter aggitation? I Wanna Be Sedated by the Ramones. Whose kid is this?

What has Bella been saying? "I think my brother needs his teaser now." That's teether.

Updates and Nostalgia

Red had his 4 month appointment at the doctor today. We have good news all around. He is 15.1 lbs. He is 23.5 inches tall. His head is 16.5 inches around. For weight and head circumference he is in the 25 - 50th %ile for uncorrected age. Wahoo! For height, he's just skimming onto the chart at 7th %ile, which isn't super, but since it is the first time he was chartable, we'll take it.

Along with that, he is exhibiting all but one of the developmental skills every 4 month old should have. That is, he isn't rolling. He just doesn't spend a lot of time on his tummy and that is 100% my fault. Guess I need to make him work a bit harder.

Today, Bella helped me run errands. She was a huge help. She is getting to be quite a great helper. In addition to that, she washed her own hair in the tub tonight. Wet it, scrubbed it up and got a little help on the rinse. What a big girl.

Days like today, when everything seems to be going right, I feel so good to be right here where we are. The sun shining, the ocean blue, the kids thriving, the pediatrician who is so superb there aren't even words. Even my teeny tiny little beach cottage seems charming, what with over 1/3 of our belongings in a moving pod outside. A little big of empty space, a little room to breathe.

Our time here at the beach is growing short. I hate long good-bye's.

Before one of my many moves between Minnesota and California, I was completely unhappy and stressed beyond belief. Wracked with doubts about whether or not I was making the right decision. A good friend of mine said, "Well, you can always come back."

True enough.

Growing Children

Sometimes I have these great ideas for blogging. Then, when I actually sit down to do it, my mind is completely blank. Welcome to motherhood. Not that I like to blame my children for my mental malfunctions. It isn't their fault. It's more that I am utterly lacking in focus, because I'm obsessing over agriculture in america, SUVs, the ozone layer, lawn chemicals, superfund sites, teflon, VOCs, and the list goes on and on. I used to worry about these things a little. Now, it actually is difficult sometimes to make a decision, considering the different issues which must be weighed.

Then I am struck like a thunderbolt that I seem to be the only one thinking about these things.

Bella is not concerned. She is jubilant as always.

Redding is not a worrier, as of yet. He is a little concerned about some of the choices I make, however. For instance, the choice to put him on his sister's aquadoodle and trace him.

Everyday I try to do the best I can for them. I try to not get any more crazy. I try not to wreck them any more than they already have been. I try to not destroy the planet any more than I already have...

You get the picture.

Happy 4th Birthday Bella!

I can't believe my sweet baby girl is 4 years old today!

Sometimes it is hard to be the big sister. It seems like the baby has all the cool toys. That's OK, he doesn't mind sharing. She's got full control over the gym, his blankets, his boppy, the whole nine yards.

Even though you do talk a bit of baby talk, more now than when you were 2, because of the recent addition of your little brother, you are getting to be a great big helper. Here you are putting the cupcake cups in the muffin tins. You also helped measure and stir in all the ingredients. Last night you pulled all the rosemary off the stems, and placed them in the baking pan. Then, once I had the potatoes halved, you put them in on top. They were delicious.

Speaking of delicious, the cupcakes turned out pretty tasty as well.

Having your brother around means less attention for you, but you're coping very well. You are very sweet and nurturing with him. True, when he fusses you run and tell me then go hide. But it is still caring.

Because he is growing so fast, I spend a lot of time thinking about how different your arrivals have been. How small you were, how fragile. It is easy to forget as you grow so tall, so very strong, and mature, that we are so very lucky to have you here with us today. I thank my lucky stars that you are such a fighter. OK, maybe not every time you fight me on something, but I do try to focus on being grateful while teaching you some manners.

You are such an energetic bright light in the world. You walk into a room of strangers and see only new friends. People in stores comment on how friendly and full of energy you are. You are also nice to other children, a good sharer, and gentle with babies.

Your smile brightens my days. You make me so proud. I love you. Happy Birthday, big girl.

Weeds

This is the look that says, "What? Me howl like a howler monkey sporadically all night long? No way! Must be some other child."

This is the look that says, "Uh, Poppa, can you fix this for me, please? I have no idea how this happened. What do you mean it's bad? Come on!"

The children are fabulous. Growing like weeds. Bella will be 4 years old in a matter of days. Redding must weigh 18 pounds already. OK, maybe not 18, but at least 16. More photos on Flickr.

Life moves pretty fast. If you don't stop and look around once in a while, you could miss it.
-Ferris Bueller

Guess How Much I Love You

This is one of the first books we got for Bella. She loved it as a baby then went through a long toddler phase where she didn't have the patience.

We're visiting her grandparents in Minnesota and they have a pop-up style copy of the book which she has taken a liking to. She's old enough now where she understands the story and can ad-lib her own phrases.

I started with, "I love you down the street and around the corner."
She hit me with, "I love you all the way home."

I told her tonight, "I love you as deep as a lake."

She answered, "I love you where the fishies swim."

I was touched and said, "I love you where the fishies swim, too."

She said, "Oh yeah? I love you where the mermaids swim."

I said, "I love you silly as a squirrel."

And she answered with, "I love you rabbity carrots."

There's just no adequate reply to that.

Can She Read?

Not quite, but maybe a little?

I grew up watching Looney Tunes. I Love Bugs Bunny. Did they twist my mind or warp me in any way? When I watch them now, I see sexism, violence, racism, narrow thinking. I also see a lot of humor, but it is really the violence that kills me.

Though I am extremely overprotective of Bella, I have let her watch a DVD of Looney Tunes we have. We watch them together, because there are things in there she would otherwise not be exposed to. Like the Marx Brothers.

When the name of one cartoon flashed on the screen today, it said Rhapsody Rabbit. Bella yelled out, "Rabbit!" There was no rabbit on the screen at that time, but bugs Bunny had been in the previous frame. Hmmm...

I asked, "Did you see the word Rabbit?"

She said, "Yes."

I asked, "Or did you see a picture of a rabbit?"

She said, "Yes."

Hmmm... Does she know the difference? Did she read the word? We just read the Bunny Book last night, it has the word rabbit in it a lot. But did she read it?

I don't know. Whether she did or not, she really enjoyed the playful way Bugs Bunny played classical and jazz tunes on the piano while fighting a mouse. She laughed aloud in a way she rarely does with TV, in a way she does mostly with people. The novelty of a person.

It's really too bad that before Bugs starts playing his tune, someone in the audience is coughing a lot. Bugs' solution is to take out a gun and shoot them.

This is not thoughtful conflict resolution. I wonder if Bugs and his pals would lose a lot in the translation to a PC world.

Weighing In

I need to update my categories, because calling Redding "Little One" is a little ridiculous at this point. I know he's looked chunky to me for a while. And when he went for his last check up 2 weeks ago, he weighed in at 9 lbs. and that surprised me. We've actually been feeding him smaller amounts of food, more often since that appointment to help with the reflux type symptoms.

Well, I had to take the poor little guy in for a check up because he's got his first cold. The scale said 10.15. I said does that mean he weighs 10 pounds 15 ounces? Yes it does. One ounce short of 11 pounds. Good grief. The doctor said, "He's quite a good eater, isn't he?" The doctor is also amazed that this is all being accomplished on just breast milk. Maybe I should cut back on the ice cream?

Speaking of ice cream, Bella is regularly eating ice cream as desert after lunch and dinner. Yet she is still holding steady at the 34 lbs. she returned from her grandparent's house with. Hmmm...

She also weighed in on the beauty of her shirt today. We're having a heatwave here in Aptos. So, I actually put a sleeveless shirt on her for the first time this year. Bella informed me a while later, "Mama, I love my tanker top."

Chubbs and Tankers.

Signs of Things to Come

These two are doing a great job playing together lately. People think I'm crazy when I tell them that at 2 months, Redding clearly enjoys spending time with his sister. How can you doubt it when you see this? It's not as if the kid knows how to smile for the camera yet.

Bella certainly knows how to smile for the camera, though. And she's so into playing with her brother that when he fusses and I come to take care of him, she tries to shoo me away.

For now, two peas in a pod.

All About the Shoes

Yesterday Bella and I had our first serious girls afternoon of shopping. Sure, we've gone out shopping lots of times. But we were on a mission yesterday to find new shoes for Bella.

The first thing she wanted to do this morning, was to bring both pairs, plus their boxes, into the living room and enjoy them.

We drove an hour to the Stride Rite outlet at the Great Mall in Milpitas, with Bella napping on the way. I fought the good fight against falling asleep at the wheel. I sure don't drive a lot these days, and driving with the a/c cranked up, no windows open, and the music on low to keep my girl asleep made me very drowsy.

The funny thing is I'm not a big name-brand shopper. I remember my sister-in-law Sue talking about the baby shoe cult that is Stride Rite. How they put the fear of harming your child's feet into you, and all that jazz.

When Bella first started walking, first started needing real shoes, I went with Stride Rite shoes because they came in the right width for her feet, WW or XW. Her feet were literally almost as wide as they were long.

Now that she's grown so much, completed physical therapy a year ago, can walk flat on her feet when she chooses to do so... I find myself back on the Stride Rite wagon. Even though her feet are no longer extra wide. What's up?

In the last month or so, I've seen cheap sandals take big bites out of her two big toes. Leaving behind not just blisters, but actual holes. I've also seen her take a header in the grocery store, nearly breaking her arm and taking out a large adult. Because the sneakers she was wearing had almost zero traction on the bottom. They weren't worn, they were just made like deck shoes.

So, I bit the bullet, took the drive and got her two pairs of summer shoes. They fit her perfectly, with a little room to grow, just the right width, cushion where it should be, no raw edges to take bites out of soft feet, and the right amount of traction on the soles. Just enough to keep her from falling down, without creating an impediment.

Am I part of the Stride Rite cult? I don't think so. I'm sure if I had unlimited time and unlimited stores near me, I could find a few regular pairs of shoes that are just as good and probably cost less. Part of me justifies it by the fact that I'm not down at Aptos Apparel, paying $50 - $70 a pair for the super fancy European shoes. I'm at an outlet, paying about $20 a pair, getting exactly what I want, in a really timely fashion.

Yes, I did let Bella pick out the Mary Jane sneakers. They're similar to the ones she has been wearing, which are a more conservative white with hot pink accents. She actually was no interested in any of the pairs of shoes in the entire store until she spotted these. "They have butterflies! And flowers! Mama, they're so BEAUTIFUL!" How can you say no to that? Judging from that and this morning's excitement, I think she clearly chose the right pair.

Things She Says

Me: "What is your brother's name?"
Bella: "Redding Rocket Team"

Bella to Redding: "Hey little dude. What's the matter, pumpkin?"

Bella about Redding: "When I get married, there's going to be a train. I think I'll marry Red."

Bella, echoing mom, but maybe not quite hearing it right: "Oh fussy! Dude, kill. Dude, you must kill."
Me: "That's chill, babe. He must chill. Not kill, that's something else entirely."

A Picture is Worth at Least 5 Posts

Much as I'd like to think that I am super mom and I can do it all, I'm not and I can't. Much as I'd like to think that by not working and staying home, I'll have all the time I need every day to nurture my children in the perfect ways and make my house a bastion of domestic bliss, I don't and it's not.

I do the best I can, don't get me wrong. I do care about the development of my children; their physical, emotional, social well-being. It's just those moments when there's been a whole lot of whining, too little listening, fussing for days on end. What I mean is the sort of general mayhem that precludes lots of trips out of the house. Lots of cleaning, lots of laundry, lots of general maintenance on the yard and cars, and just general adult responsibilities. Some times I feel so bogged down by simply making sure both my kids have enough of the right things to eat, that everything else kind of falls by the wayside.

"What do you mean I’m not supposed to spit up half of what I just ate? You expect me to eat from THAT? Where's my bottle?!? What do you mean you have to put me down for 15 minutes to pump?"

"What do you mean I can't have ice cream for breakfast? Where's my snack? I don't like that!"

That sort of nonsense.

But we're just chugging slowly along. Obviously, the kids are being fed.

colic, concussion, and escape

If you are a regular reader, you are no doubt asking yourself what is going on here in our world. I'd love to fill you in. Before that, however, I must relay a bit of wisdom I heard from several friends with more than one child: The work doesn't double, it grows exponentially. It is so true.

Since the departure of all things grandparent...

We've been delving into the full on parenting experience and indulging in a little escapism.

Redding has been pushing us to our limits with some serious fussing. All mysteriously related to passing gas. I keep telling him that it is not a tragedy. He does not concur. Here's hoping those intestines mature soon. He's a handful, almost all the time.

Bella has been channeling a bit of Chevy Chase and trying her hand at the physical comedy shtick. Throwing herself onto the floor, etc. She was probably doing something like that the other day when she went to run past the glider in the living room, which my mom was sitting in, and hit her head. Or so she said, that she hit her head. Neither my mom or I saw her, but she was inconsolable and needed to be held for more than an hour. That kind of snuggle time has been unheard of for more than a year.

Just when I was beginning to wonder if she was seriously hurt or has a serious flair for the dramatic, she started throwing up. I called the pediatrician; they said to bring her in at 6 (an hour and a half later). Then Bella threw up 4 more times.

The pediatricians were unable to find a bump on her head and Bella's story about where she had hit it changed. The back of her head, the top of her head, her forehead. She's still 3, so I guess that makes sense.

One doctor wanted us to go to the ER for a CAT scan. Now I'm all for doing anything medically necessary to ensure the well being of our children. But I could not stop the thought from running through my head; great, just what we need, more hospital bills.

Bad mom. Bad.

Another, more experienced pediatrician came in to see Bella, because the other was on the fence. Interestingly, he asked if Bella had spit up a lot as a kid or had reflux. I said she had.

Based on that, and the fact that she had not lost consciousness, and the fact that there was no bump on her head, and the fact that she was coherent (if sad, inactive, and very tired) he felt a CAT scan was not needed and I should watch her closely.

PHEW! What a relief. Or the start of a relief. Bella did throw up 2 more times after we got home, but her personality started returning to normal, her energy level came up, it was good.

Now, Andrew was out of town, and it was just the kids and I, and Redding doesn't sleep through the night yet. So I suggested to Bella we all sleep in the living room together, as I was supposed to keep an eye on her. She said OK, but once I got her bed set up on the love seat, she informed me she didn't want to sleep in the living room. So I suggested my bed. She was not happy about it, but said OK.

I'm not one to let the kids sleep in our bed. But the thought of a California king sized bed versus a twin, with the two of us in it, and I went for the king. We slept until Redding needed a feeding; I fed him and came back to bed. She was fine. Redding fussed some time later and I went to get him and fell asleep with him on the couch. At 4 a.m. a very awake and irritated Bella woke me up, standing in front of me with her hands on her hips shouting, "You said you'd be right back!"

Obviously, she was almost as good as new by then.

She was also done sleeping in my bed, so I tucked her into hers, alone, to sleep those last three hours before she got up at her usual 7 a.m.

All this drama calls for some relaxation. So what about that? Andrew went to a golf tournament in Nevada. His foursome took 3rd. Good job guys!

And I went to see a band. A band I have wanted to see play live since I was about 14. That's 20 years. Two decades. They broke up and reformed as different bands. I wanted the original. It seems my waiting paid off.

Yes, The English Beat played a show Saturday night at the Catalyst in Santa Cruz. The show was superb. The lead singer's voice was as amazing as ever. They aren't pushing new material, so they played all their greatest hits, plus some General Public. The saxophone was totally sweet, as always. The show rocked, in such a small intimate setting.

There's the news. That's why I have been MIA. How long can I play the 'newborn' card? I'm thinking June 17, when Redding hits 2 months, my rights will be revoked.

Bell to Red

"Brother, it makes your teeth excited." As she shows him all the lights and songs available on his bouncy seat entertainment bar.

Bella to her Papa

"Come on! Come with me. We gotta go to my bedroom, because it's really cool."

He is the chosen one to read the bedtime books tonight.

You gotta love it. She's so crystal clear on what she wants.

Caught in the Act

I surprised Bella today. Caught her in the act of having lunch with several of her friends.

She didn't know I had the camera. She was just turning around to ask me if I'd get her some more kiwi, as she'd already eaten the one I cut up for her. At this moment in time, this is her ideal lunch. Turkey pepperoni, cheddar cheese cubes (not slices, thank you very much), red pepper, wheat thins, and kiwi.

Family

Here it is, one day after originally schedueld, photos of the big meeting. Today, Bella got to spend time with her brother, without a window between them, for the first time. As you can see, she was quite taken with Redding. He was quite taken with her, as well. He lit up every time he heard her voice. It was really something.

We completed our family.

Happy As A Clam

I ask you: Do little girls get any cuter than this?

Beautiful Girl of Mine

This is the smile I love so much. More pictures on my flickr.

33 Weeks - Update

I can't believe it. Each week gets longer and longer.

At all of the recent non-stress tests, our litty guy has performed beautifully. He kicks up a storm for me throughout each day, reminding me that he's here and he's growing.

The greatest news of the day is that Andrew and Bella are coming home on Saturday. I could not be more excited. I just want to bring them home and snuggle with them both. Hunker together until we all feel like everything is going to be OK.

As for me, I'm not feeling so well as I had been. My blood pressure is rising. Some readings are as high as 150/100, and at 160/110 they will put me in the hospital. There's also been a bit of protein in my urine and I'm puffing up like a marshmellow. My hands, face, and ankles are not my own.

Still, it seems the progress of preeclampsia is slow, and I am thinking I should be able to squeeze in a week with my family before it's time to deliver.

Who knows? Maybe I'll pull off the full 36 weeks? At least that way I'll be able to make it to my shower next weekend.

Ha ha, har de har har har.

Happy Easter!

Bella and the Bunny

Last year Bella and I spent a lot of time at the mall, walking around the Easter Bunny's house. We talked about the Easter Bunny and watched him take pictures with other kids. She grew to really like the bunny. This year, her dad took her to see the bunny in Minnesota. Check it out here .

A little bigger than last year.

This is the beauty

that haunts my dreams.

Although in my dreams, she usually doesn't have a chocolate goatee. Last night, she was running down the beach and I was chasing her, we were laughing like maniacs. I could hardly keep up, she was so fast.

Out of the Mouths of Babes II

Take 1

Yesterday, after the reception at St. Francis Cabrini, we stopped at a convenience store to pick up the crabby pregnant chick (a.k.a. me) a gatorade, before heading over to the Crooks house.

Andrew ran in and Bella and I waited for him. When he got back in the driver's seat Bella asked him, "Are you ready to rock and roll?"

Take 2

This afternoon, Bella and I decided that the 4 overripe bananas in the basket needed to be made into banana bread. So we set about mashing and measuring and mixing. When I got to the mixing part, I asked Bella a couple times, "Is it all mixed now?" And she'd tell me, "Not yet!"

When I asked her the final time, she told me, "That's messed up."

Take 3

At nap time today, Bella kind of tried to tell me a knock knock joke. We don't tell a lot of jokes around the house, so I was surprised. I tucked her in and she said, "Knock, knock." I said, "Who's there?" She said, "No one." I gave her a kiss and told her to have a good rest.

Then tonight while she's eating her dinner, she turns to her dad and says, "Knock, knock." I had not told him of the earlier joke, so he was equally surprised. This joke ended much the same way. But Andrew said, "So you like knock, knock jokes, huh? Wel, knock, knock."

"Who's there?" Bella says.

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock, knock."

"Who's there?"

"Banana."

"Banana who?"

"Knock, knock"

"Who's there?"

"Banana..."

"Dada, it's supposed to be orange now."

DOH! Schooled by a 3 year old. Orange you glad I told you the banana joke?

Beautiful

Today Bella and I went to have a play date. We went to see Kurt, a fellow 26 weeker, whose spot in the NICU we stole when Bella was born. A truly wonderful family, every last one of them.

We drove home in the afternoon, with the sun shining, the sun roof open, over the hill. The wind and the light through the trees, put Bella to sleep. I glanced at her (keeping a good eye on the road) and she was just so beautiful and peaceful in her sleep.

It reminded me of one particular afternoon in my own childhood. My mom had been out of town visiting her dad in Washington, and my own dad had taken all of us to the beach on his own. Not the usual full day production number including multiple coolers, barbeques, several meals, etc. Just packing up some sandwiches and crowding into the convertible and going.

I remember being sleepy and happy, ducking my head down a little to stay out of the wind. Maybe a little closer to the central speaker in the 70-something Chrysler New Yorker. Huddled close to my sisters, dappled in fleeting sunshine through the trees, on the way home from a great day at the beach.

I hope both my kids will know that kind of bliss.

An Anniversary of Sorts

Tomorrow is a big day. An anniverary of sorts. Tomorrow I will be 26 weeks and 6 days pregnant. It doesn't sound like a milestone, or not any kind of a traditional one, does it?

That's the gestational age Bella was when she was born.

I like to think I'm not freaking out about that too much. Like to think that I'm all in control of my faculties. But the fighting with Andrew, the crying jags, and the general overeating of the last two weeks say otherwise.

I gained 15 lbs. the first 24 weeks of my pregnancy. I gained 5 pounds in the last two weeks. Oopsie.

Now, I've had some very good news at appointments lately. My blood pressure is OK. The baby is growing, maybe even a little ahead of schedule. My blood work has come back normal. Things are looking up.

I did, however, flunk my 1 hour glucose test. By a narrow margin, I had too much sugar in my blood at 1 hour. Now I get to do the 3 hour test. Whoopie!

What would it mean if I had gestational diabetes?

1) It could contribute to having a larger baby.

BRING IT ON.

2) It could mean having a c-section.

ALREADY DOING THAT.

The only down side is that loading up a fetus with sugar, can lead to hypoglycemic infants, which is not super. So, if I do turn out to have gestational diabetes, I will behave myself.

Once the anniversary has passed, I think I'll be able to chill out a bit. Meanwhile, here are some pictures from the walk I took to the beach with Bella on Friday. (Yes, I can do it, just not every day.)

For more pictures, go to Flickr.

Wii

In case you haven't heard, we have a Wii.

Today it proved priceless.

After having dinner together, the three of us retired to the living room to play together, at Bella's request. We played bowling together.

When Bella hit only 9 out of 10 pins, she announced adamantly, "I was robbed."

Less Than 1 Hour to Homemade Goodness

We made a very small batch of Super Easy Sugar Cookies this morning. I mean, so easy. Dump the stuff in the bowl, mix it, and bake it. No sifting, no rolling; awesome. And Yummy!

1 1/2 cups all-purpose flour (we used whole wheat)
1/2 teaspoon baking soda

1/4 teaspoon baking powder

1/2 cup butter, softened

3/4 cups white sugar (we used organic, which is kind of brownish)

1 egg

1 teaspoon vanilla extract

1/2 teaspoon almond extract

1 pinch kosher salt

DIRECTIONS
Preheat oven to 375 degrees F (190 degrees C). In a small bowl, stir together flour, baking soda, and baking powder. Set aside.

In a large bowl, cream together the butter and sugar until smooth. Beat in egg and vanilla and almond. Throw in the dry ingredients and mix thoroughly. Scoop with smallest cookie scoop and sprinkle and pat with decroative sprinkles.

Bake approximately 7 minutes in the preheated oven, or until just slightly golden on edges. Let stand on cookie sheet two minutes before removing to cool on wire racks.

I know, they aren't good for us, but they aren't loaded with fake yucky stuff, either. Except for all the food color in the special Valentine's sprinkles. The joy on Bella's face at getting to help measure, mix, decorate, and eat them? Priceless.

Oh, and getting mom back on the couch in just 45 minutes? Also priceless. Half batches of cookies rule.

Shameless Self-Promotion

Shutterfly.com has a Valentine's Day contest going on, called My Funny Valentine.

I entered one of the pictures of Bella's first Valentine's Day, and one of our first improvised home photo shoots.

Go Here to vote for our girl. And get a good giggle, too. She's always had quite a big personality for one who started out so small.

Treats

Bella's been a little under the weather, but feeling a little better so she's ready to go, go go! Unfortunately, I seem to be the one coming down with a cold now, so I've got little energy. She was my big helper after lunch today, taking me to the post office and the drug store. We even managed a quick trip to the grocery store for juice and such. While there, she spotted and requested a doughnut with chocolate and sprinkles.

She's down to 29 lbs. again, due to her lack of appetite. We're definitely not facing the epidemic of childhood obesity in our house at this moment.

So I said yes, but she had to take a good nap to get it. I think you can see, she did a good job.

Old Man Winter

It seems that our great fortune in having a pretty darn healthy winter has ended.

Last week Andrew experienced the good old fashioned flu smack-down. Chills, fever, stuffy nose, cough and exhaustion. Poor guy.

This weekend, while I was in San Francisco, Bella took her runny nose and traded it in for... Bronchitis! And a little fluid in her ears, but they're not infected. Yet.

One night of coughing and a low grade fever and you take your child to the doctor? Yes. If you're me, and you have that funny feeling.

I was chatting with Bella while waiting for the doctor, I asked, "Will the doctor look up your nose?"

"No, that's weird. She'll look in my ears!"

"Right. And she'll listen to your stomach?"

"No, she'll listen to my lungs!"

"Oh right, and she'll feel your tummy to check your liver and your spleen?"

"That's weird, mom."

So, the doctor comes in then. After doing the usual stuff (and, oddly, looking up her nose), she asked Bella to lay down on the table and felt around her tummy, and pronounced that her liver and spleen were slightly distended.

Then she asks me if I've had any medical training, apparently she heard some of our conversation in the hall.

No. Just one of those weird coincidences. I just happened to be running off at the mouth and the words live and spleen came out. I had no idea. And you just don't want to tell your child's pediatrician that these things happen to you all the time. You just don't.

It seems her lungs were working super hard, what with the bronchitis, that they were pushing on the other organs. Crazy.

But, amazingly with one dose of steroids and a day of albuterol inhaler treatments, and she's like a brand new kid.

"Where are we going today mom? Where? Can we go? I want to go somewhere. I want to GO!"

Have I Mentioned...

She loves the hat that Auntie Tammie got her for Christmas.

And that it is flipping cold here these days? I've had to scrape ice off the car every morning we've gone out. It's crazy.

Spring is coming, right?

For The Doggies

Today we started talking a lot about Valentine's Day. What it is, what we celebrate, stuf like that. Bella made her first Valentine of 2007. When I asked her who she wanted to send it to, she wasn't sure. So I said, "Well you have a lot of people you love, like..." And I gave her the whole list. The whole list, people, of people.

This Valentine goes out to her special doggies that she loves. Venus and Sparrow.

Questions and Answers

I'm not always the quickest with the answers to the tough questions Bella asks. I'd give her all the honest medical type answers if I thought she'd understand... probably. Maybe. Sometimes I give in to my own whims, though.

Question heard at bath time, as she takes off her shirt. "Mama, what are these?"

"Those are called nipples."

"What are they for?"

"At your age, they're for decoration."

"Decoration?"

"Yes, don't they look nice, there on your chest?"

"Yes, they do. I like my decorations."

Turn a Phrase

Andrew calls guys 'chief' all the time. He took Bella with him on his mission to find and buy a Wii, and asked a customer service guy a question, calling him chief. When he was all done helping them, Andrew said, "Thank you." And Bella said, "Thanks Chief!"

On the way to the next store, they walked by a hotdog vendor, who asked if they wanted a hotdog. Andrew said, "No, thank you." Bella said, "Thanks, Dog!"

That girl cracks me up.

Andrew feels compelled to tell her that her baby brother is growing inside me. She adamantly refuses to believe. She doesn't know where he is, all she knows is -- he's not here right now and he's definitely not inside mom.

Sunset Distraction

You would not believe the sunset Bella and I saw. The pictures don't do it justice.

The bay was all misty and the horizon was aglow in that weird kind of what-planet-am-I-on global orientation of the Monterey Bay.

The boomerang cloud arrangement.

And the beauty of my companion. Such a good sport about making it a quick walk and getting home before the sun set.

Piggies for Her Piggies

For Poppa --

Here's a picture of Bella. Hope we didn't make you wait too long.

She loves her new slippers.

She's just naturally that cute. I'm a lucky mom.

First Call to Poison Control

Yesterday after nap, I got to make my first call to the Poison Control Center.

During naptime, Bella had been monkey-ing around in her room instead of sleeping. It's Christmas, so I guess it is understandable, but we had our hopes.

One of the things she has really enjoyed lately is putting on lotion after her bath. She's getting pretty good at it.

Well, she's been getting another kind of lotion, for a yeast like rash on her girl parts. She got her hands on that lotion, I apparently left it on top of her dresser, which she can reach now. She opened it up and rubbed it all over her face, her neck, her hands, and her shirt. This lotion is called Nystatin, and it is a prescription from when she was just a tiny baby. We had a lot back then, this one was unopened.

When I got her up, I recognized the smell and saw the tube, so I ushered her into the bathroom to wash her up. When I bent down to make sure I got it all off her face, I got a whiff of her breath.

"Did you eat the lotion?"
"No."

"How did it taste?"

"Yucky, Mama, really yucky."

"Uh huh. Go sit on the couch, Mama has to make a phone call." So nice to have that phone number posted prominently on the refrigerator.

Fortunately, she would have to have ingested a whole lot of it to do her any harm. Because it was a fairly small tube, and so much of it was obviously all over her, she couldn't have swallowed much.

Merry Christmas Poison Control. Thank you for existing. Thank you for working on Christmas. Thank you for answering your phone so fast. Thank you for being so helpful. Thank you for being so calm and kind.

Bella-isms

Yesterday in the car on the way to Don and Irene's, Andrew and I were talking about names for the new baby. Nothing was decided.

Bella chimes in from the back seat, "Stop talking about this conversation, that's for doggies."

You see, she's been getting out of her warm cozy bed and sleeping ont he floor. One of the things I did to try to discourage her is tell her that only doggies sleep on the floor. Now whenever she doesn't like something, she tells us it is for doggies.

Just a few more days...

Yesterday, a clerk at Target asked Bella if she was ready for Christmas.

Her answer, "Not yet!"

The lady then asked, "Do you know how many more days until Christmas?"

Her answer, "About a week, I think."

5 days, a week. I'll give it to her.

Aging

I'm three.

Yes you are.

I'm going to be four on my next birthday.

That's right. What comes after four?

Thirty-five, I think.

Ho Ho Ho

I can not believe it is December 21 already. The days since December started have really flown by. And I've hardly done a single productive thing all month. Oh well.

OK, I did get Bella to pose with Santa, though she wasn't too sure about the whole thing once she got up on his lap. Can you blame the kid? She just doesn't usually sit on strangers laps. Even if they are strangers of legendary proportions.

OK, yes, most of the cookies were baked before December even got here. I've only managed to squeeze in a few more in the last few days. So far I've made sugar cookies, jam thumb prints, peanut blossoms, chocolate chip oatmeal, chocolate walnut fudge, welsh cookies, nut roll, and pecan sandies. On Monday, Bella and I made a new one, toffee bars. But you won't see any of my weirder cookies, such as apple, pumpkin, or lemon.

Just today, I managed to bake Andrew's favorites, oatmeal raisin. Other family favorites I've heard over the years have not made it into the lineup this year. Jackie, I love you but there's no chocolate refrigerator cookies this year. Irene, I love you but there's no anise cookies this year (I don't think I did your recipe justice, anyway). Joe, man, there's no oatmeal scotchies, but love and oatmeal raisin. Eric, I never have managed to make white chocolate macadamia, I'm sorry and yes I do love you.

If the stars align properly, I may be able to get the standard chocolate chip cookies and the ginger snaps (molasses crinkles) done this weekend.

I blame the pregnancy. I just don't have the baking stamina I once did. Last night I turned on the oven to preheat and start making the oatmeal cookies and the smell of it made me sick as a dog. I feel great, but I do still need to watch it.

Happy Holidays. Ho Ho Ho.

Hello! I'm home!

Yep, my girl is home. Be prepared for more fun and entertaining stories to follow.

So far, she's still adjusting to the little things. She has to take off her own shoes and put them in her room. She has to put her dirty clothes in the basket. She has to climb up in her chair. She has to use a napkin to wipe her face and hands. She has to climb up into her car seat. She has to use good manners, particularly when asking for things. Yelling is only allowed if she's super excited about something or injured. Mom has so many rules.

She doesn't exactly look scarred by them, does she?

Adjustments

We're well on our way to getting back to normal around the house.

Bella, my fearless uber-friendly child has reverted a bit. She's pretending to be shy and retiring. She stoutly refused to attend the play group in the park today, even though the sun was shining brightly. Instead, she was willing to go to the playground at the mall. Once there, she was fine, but ran back to me at least every 3 minutes, just to check in. This is not typical behavior. Usually when we're there, she can't be bothered with me unless she needs a drink or a snack or first aid.

Getting back on the potty wagon has proved a bit challenging also. My ultra regular kid who pooped on the potty from the get-go without my even suggesting it, is fighting it with all her might.

Squirming and behaving in a combative way, yelling "No!" even when no one is talking to her. "I need to go potty. No! I don't!"

For my solution, I'm certain I won't be nominated for mommy of the year. Now, when she starts the fight-the-urge-to-poop dance, I bring her potty to the living room, put it right down in front of the TV. I tell her, "You want a movie? Pull your pants down and sit on the potty." Never do I mention pooping.

Before the previews even appear, she's done. Miraculously. She's not constipated. Oh no. She's stubborn.

And in front of the TV is the one place I can quickly and easily get her brain to stop fighting her body.

Shockingly easy, and it's happened at the same time for the last two days. I think we may just schedule this one into our every day. Until the day she decides she wants some privacy. But by that time, I will probably have pulled and archived this whole site. Talk about invasion of privacy!

Miss my girl?

Yes, I do, too.

Here's some fun anecdotes, which have clearly been missing from my site this week. Go see what Andrew's been up to.

All I Want For Christmas

The other day, when I asked her what she would like Santa to bring her for Christmas, Bella said, "Decorations for our house."

This is kind of a stunning answer from a 3 year old, who just read a whole bunch of books about Christmas.

Over the last week or so, we've been out to Target, Kmart, and Costco, for various items and general holiday browsing. So, after she went completely nuts over the animatronic polar bear singing Christmas Carols at Costco, I thought I would be in for a vastly different answer. Although, technically, the bear would qualify as decorations for the house...

Her answer tonight stopped Andrew in his tracks in the kitchen. Tonight she got specific. She said, "I want a Christmas tree, a bell, and a diamond."

Andrew stopped washing the dishes and told me to put this day on the calendar. I assured him that she must mean the shape diamond, which she is very familiar with. Because the gem diamond, she has absolutely no reference point for. Mommy's ring is just mommy's ring. She's not interested.

Oh, but she is very interesting.

Run for the Border

Bella's feeling a little better today. I even dragged her out for an adventure. We went all the way to Scotts Valley to the Kmart there. We needed some stuff for the house and I wanted to see what they had for Christmas type stuff.

By the way, they have some ridiculously cute Martha Stewart dish towels. But then I love cute dish towels.

I neglected to pack a snack for us, and we wound up being gone from the house for a few hours. On the way home, we drove by a Taco Bell with a drive thru. Now, we don't have a whole lot of fast food over here on the coast and even fewer drive thrus. So, starving and faced with a rare opportunity, I drove thru.

Well, I picked up some lunch for Andrew and I. When we got home and settled, Bella wanted what we were having. So I hooked her up with a crunchy taco. Andrew had to help her pick it up and eat it, but she ate about half. So shocking. The child who doesn't like meat, doesn't like fast food, doesn't like so many things... Likes TB tacos.

And yeah, I'm nominating myself for parent of the year, too. I'm a real All-American, Kmart and Taco Bell, baby!

Anyway. She's feeling a bit better, but still snuffy and whiney. She was laying on the couch after lunch, watching sesame street, and she burst into tears, "I wanna eat my taco!" It was so out of the blue, I almost giggled. To top it off, she's got this froggy, Demi Moore kind of voice going on today.

She wanted to finish her taco. But it's gone. I threw it away when I cleaned up lunch. And it's a tragedy. A Demi Moore tragedy.

The Ick

Not a lot of updates these days, I'm afraid.

I'm cruising along, some days feel better than others. Right now? Almost time to make dinner and the thought makes me want to hurl. Leftovers for the loved ones and cereal or toast for me.

Sunday, Bella was fine. Monday, she woke up with a stuffy nose and informed me, "I'm broken."

Yesterday, she added a cough but no fever to the mix. I added a trip to the pediatrician.

What? A mild cold, only two days old? Call it mother's intuition.

Sure, she's got a regular viral cold. Run of the mill, should last 7 - 10 days. Her lungs are good, thank goodness.

But the double ear infection, called for a 10 day run of antibiotics.

Hopefully the airlines will let the last 3 days of antibiotics get on the plane with her, worst case I guess it could go in a zip lock in carry-on, but it's supposed to be refrigerated. Crazy.

The bright side is, if she's on antiibotics, she won't pick up pneumonia on the plane. :) Oh, and that smug feeling I get, because Andrew always thinks I'm crazy taking her to the doctor so fast. But that's just a teeny, tiny bonus.

Update and humiliation

The potty wars are going pretty well. We may civilize her yet.

One thing I can't get over is her telling me that she "peep-id" or "poop-id" in the potty. Bella's own past tense.

She's a riot. She was all over the guy fixing the heater today, too. Announced that "My friend is here!" Asked to help him, watched him, asked him questions. She was very concerned when he would go outside to his truck for a part or something.

Then our neighbor went out to do yard work and she decided the heater guy was her neighbor. Really chatted him up and announced that she was going out to lunch with our neighbor when he was done fixing our heater.

Not only did Steve, the heater guy manage to fix the heater, he tollerated the adoration quite well.

That's my little social butterfly.

Potty Training

I started thinking about the potty training before Bella even turned 2. We gave her lots of information and opportunities, but she wasn't really interested. She didn't like the little potty, or the special red seat that went on the regular toilet. She just didn't care to participate. Not for treats or stickers or praise or anything.

We even did a stint of naked training this summer which was not highly successful. But she's really grown up a lot since this summer. I'm not kidding when I say I think I'll soon be out of things to teach her. So I've been motivated to try and get her trained to see if preschool would be a good option for her.

Ineveitably we'd run into a brick wall and I not having the answer, would cave. This time around we bought this book, based on our pediatricians recommendation. It is a very thorough plan. And no, I honestly didn't expect it to happen in 1 day.

Yesterday was frustrating and really hard, I followed the directions of the book pretty much to the letter. That was the point, right? After so much intensive time together and no less than 7 accidents, we decided that 8 a.m. to 1:30 p.m. was enough time for day one. Bella asked for a pull-up for nap and I let her keep one on for the rest of the day. We just chilled after nap.

This morning I decided to take a fresh outlook and use the parts I liked of the 'method' and see how it goes. Bella didn't really want to go right to training pants first thing, but I convinced her it would be OK.

And guess what? It wasn't just OK. It was FREAKING AMAZING. She only had one small peepee accident this morning, and has been dry all day since. She wanted a pull-up for nap again, and I said ok, but guess what? It was dry when she got up! No, really. It was.

Not only that, but we went out to dinner together, to celelbrate. We were out of the house for almost 2 full hours. She was willing to try the potty at the restaurant with me, though she didn't do anything. Didn't matter, she stayed dry! Dry! Dry, I tell you!

OK, that's all amazing. A 180 degree difference from yesterday. But that's not the most shockingly amazing part.

Before nap, I told her to go potty and left her alone with a book and she pooped. She pooped on the potty. All by herself.

I don't want to delude myself into thinking that this is a done deal. I'm just so thrilled to have had a great day with her today. Thrilled that she had so much success. Thrilled that she knows how proud I am, her dad is, and how proud everyone she knows will be when they find out.

I was listing off all the family and friends who would be so proud of her and she chimed in, "And the train? The train is proud of me?"

"Sure honey, I'm sure the train is proud of you." Wondering.

"And all the train cars? All the train cars are proud of me?"

"Yes. Sure."

You know it's the day after halloween

When you give your child a bath and find a 'nerd' candy in their ear.

Very handy storage for later snacking.

Why Our Pediatrician Rules

Sometimes things just go your way. And you have to look at them and count your blessings.

When we moved over to the coast, we all got signed up with a General Practitioner. She took us on as a favor to my sister. She's a great doctor. But over time her schedule dwindled and having a sick toddler became an issue.

I asked our Physical Therapist for a referral, and she told me about Capitola Pediatric. A small private practice full of amazing Pediatricians and wonderful nurses and staff. We signed up immediately with Dr. Baskerville.

Over time, we got to meet every doctor in the practice. They are all as patient, kind, great with kids, and wonderful as Dr. Baskerville.

Now, at Bella's 3 year visit, the doctor wrote up an order for blood tests, regular stuff and a lead test. My head was filled with Bella's 1 year appointment blood draw, where they tried to take it out of her arm, like an adult and it took 3 of us to hold her down. Bella and I were both sobbing by the time it was over.

But she's big now and we needed to take care of her, so I took her in to the clinic for my doctor when I got my blood work done for my OB. The AWESOME gal at Santa Cruz Medical Foundation said, "No one to watch your daughter?"

I said, "No actually, I need to take her later to get blood drawn, so I thought it would be a good idea to let her see me do it. Since I don't freak out."

She said, "We can do it here." And so we did.

The gal did a finger stick, for 2 little vials of blood. It wasn't super fast or painless, but Bella managed with just a few tears, and no wrestling. What a big girl!

That really worked out. But the whole point of the story, as to why my Pediatrician rules? Dr. Baskerville called us last night at 5:49 p.m. personally, to say that Bella's test results were in and that they were all normal. The blood counts were perfect and the lead was nice and low.

Now that rules.

Pseudo Halloween

Today was the Capitola Village Children's Halloween Parade. It's our official Halloween, since Bella doesn't know BOO about the official 10/31 date of Halloween.

Tammie and Bella and I went out for some lunch and then scooted over to the parking lot in Capitola to join in the festivities. We took our own sweet time, so we arrived about 10 minutes before the parade started, to find ourselves without a parking spot. Tam kicked us out, at the parade launch site and went and parked the car. There were hundreds, if not thousands of kids and parents, dressed up in all kinds of costumes. (Where are they? Honestly, I can't take pictures when I'm having crowd and claustro phobia.)

Bella danced her ladybug way from the top of the hill, down, through the village, then on to the park. At which point she gleefully accepted a silver bag full of candy and we went and found a spot to sit on the sea wall. We watched the whole rest of the parade and waited for Tammie, who said she'd meet us at the end.

The whole way through the parade, Bella kept asking me, "Where's the parade?"

I told her over and over, "We are the parade, you're in the parade, everyone in front of us and behind us is in the parade." She wasn't buying it. She wanted the 4th of July parade. You can't win them all. But she was happy to have finally "found Halloween."

Happy Halloween, everyone!

Psychedelic

As I have mentioned previously, occasionally Bella likes to take her naps under her bed. She won't explain to me why, but maybe some day I'll find out.

Today, she took an amazingly long nap, considering some days she takes none. She went down at about 1:45 p.m. and didn't call me until 4 p.m. On the button.

So, I had just woken up from a little Saturday afternoon nap, when I heard her call, "Mama! Open the door!"

I opened her door and she's half under the bed, looking a little dazed and confused. Just the way I felt after waking up.

And she says to me, "Make the flower light stop giggling at me."

I figured she couldn't possibly have said that, so I said, "What, baby?"

And she said, "The flower light is giggling at me, make it stop."

That must have been some dream she was having, because we do not feed our children LSD, peyote, or even large doses of Robitussin.

Days of Wine and Babies

On October 8th, Bella and I took a long drive up to Livermore, to see Auntie Mindi and her wonderful mom and sisters. What a wonderful group of women! We met their limo at Concannon and Bella and I mostly played outside while they had a taste. But to keep ourselves busy, we ran back to our car to grab the blanket that 'we' made for Henry. Bella was giddy over the blanket, and even more so once she got to give it to the baby.

Henry, for his part, was a bit sleepy, but a thoroughly congenial little guy. Cute and snuggly as can be.

We then scooted over to Retzlaff, where we had a picnic. Amazingly, given the food, the lawn and garden, the vineyard beyond, the chickens running loose and the child sized tractors strewn about the lawn, Bella only had eyes for Henry.

Henry, Henry, Baby Henry.

She even managed to convince Auntie Mindi to let her hold him.

One of the sweetest moments captured on film. Ever.

And people, don't think I miss the point that his bodes VERY well for me. For us. For our little family.

She's A Flower Girl

I wondered, as the days running up to the wedding grew short, what my little toughie would do. Faced with hours of being clean, being good, and wearing fancy clothes.

The day before the wedding, I tried on a few of my own dresses, to see what could be done about my own appearance. I walked into the kitchen with one on and she said, "Pretty dress, mama! Twirl it!" So I spun around for her. In that moment I knew, she'd be great.

She was superb. As was the beautiful wedding and all the lovely people involved. People Bella dubbed at the rehearsal "My Beautiful Family!".

Yes a good time was had by all.

Oh the drama

Meals are really an interesting time with our 3 year old. She's always got some new and interesting habit to shock and horrify. Right now we're going for marathon sessions, but at least I know she'll be occupied for a full 3 hours a day.

She needs her other hand to help her get the giant spoon full of noodles into her mouth, but that's not what really bothers me. It's not that she thinks she's some kind of industrial machine grinding down the cracker as she puts the whole thing in her mouth, bite after bite. It is the fact that she grabbed a green bean off my plate tonight, and ate it. Maybe she isn't mine. I eat green beans because they are a green vegetable, and I must eat green vegetables. She wanted to. I'm disgusted.

Perhaps I'm distracted by the way she takes the edge off her hunger, then leisurely chats and plays with her food. When asked if she's done or if I can take her plate for her, she yells (never says, always yells), "I"m eating!"

That. Makes. Me. Crazy.

Or, when I give her the count down, her dad warned me she needed. 5 minutes, 4 minutes, 3 minutes, 2 minutes, 1 minute, done. That's when she actually squeezes her eyes together so tight, a tear comes out of each one. She fake sobs, and says, "I'm sad."

If everything is going smoothly, if she hasn't choked herself in her enthusiams, or utterly lost interest, or caused a ruckus with the "I"m Eating!" thing... Well, then she pulls out the big guns.

"I want to run away."

"Oh. That wouldn't be any fun for you."

"Mommy would be sad."

"Right."

"My family would be sad."

"Again, you are right. You'd probably be sad, too. Are you done with your performance, because it's almost bath time."

The other evening her Gra-gra almost chimed in, "You could run away here..." but I was already bringing the receiver back to my own ear. Right. Like she doesn't ask to go to Minnesota 3 times a week, at a bare minimum. Like Gra-gra and Papa's house isn't the mecca of doing whatever you want at the table and getting anything you want, forever and ever, amen.

I've already composed a letter:

Dear Mercer Mayer,

In the book entitled "I Was So Mad" was it strictly necessary for the main character to proclaim adamantly that he was going to run away?

Your books are no more than 16 pages, they take less than 5 minutes to read. Your audience is YOUNG. Did you really need to plant that one in their little noggins? Really?

Mine, Mine, Mine, All Mine.

I know this because she can not get enough of my low-sodium V8, on the rocks, with a splash of Tabasco Sauce. She keeps asking for "Mama's spicy juice."

Gotta love it.

When merely the thought of a tomato existing in the world can wring the wretchedness from the very soul of her father, I guess we know whose genes are dominant.

The wait is over!

For a new picture. Happy Friday!

Return of the baby assassin

Sunday evening, dinner at Tammie and Joe's.

I'm helping Tammie prep the guacamole for dinner.

Bella is playing with Tammie and Joe's remote controlled fan (which she can not get her fingers into, thank you very much).

Bella walks into the kitchen, having left the remote in the livingroom, and says, "Mommy, I need your help with the button."

I set down the sharp knife I am using to open avocados, and cross to the remote in the livingroom. As I pass Bella, she quickly runs behind me and grabs for the knife on the counter.

Her plan almost worked.

Fortunately Aunty Tammie, who was the one who discovered her secret identity as Baby Assassin, quickly jumped in and removed the knife from her reach.

After baffling her mommy, Bella said, "You may have won this round woman, but I'll be back, and next time I'll be even taller and faster!"

Natural Smiles

There's something amazing and yet slightly heartbreaking when your child learns how to smile on purpose. Or maybe just when your child learns to smile and strike an unnatural pose whenever a camera appears.

This is not one of those moments.

Chatty Cathy

I had reason the other day to witness my daughter spend the day around her dad, while I huddled in bed. I swear to you, she did not stop talking all day. What a wonder.

Now, she's always had lots to say to me. I've recently done some research on the web, regarding her sentence length and structure. Things like that.

Typically, they say that by age 3, "Sentences are becoming longer as your child can combine four or more words."

Today at lunch, she made with this sentence:

"We need to go to the grocery store, so that I can get some more strawberries, I think like twelve, or maybe just ten."

Yes, it is rather a run on sentence, but 24 words long. Said, very thoughfully, all together. Quite a talker.

Happy Labor Day Weekend!

We made it down to the beach this afternoon for a sunny, bustling adventure in the sand. Lots of tourists lining our sunny shore, but hardly a wave to bee seen.

Andrew and Bella burried each other's toes in the sand. They're pretty darn cute, if I do say so myself.

There's lots more beach pictures over at Flickr.

This weekend also marks the 10th wedding anniversary of Tammie and Joe. Congratulations guys! I'd post more, but I'm still having flashbacks of when Tammie threatened violence if I talked about her at work. :0) No, really, she threatened me. So, whoever you are, and where ever you are this weekend, celebrating that thing that you're celebrating, I hope you're both having a wonderful time. And don't worry, I won't tell anyone on the interenet your deepest darkest secrets, except that you like to threaten me.

We also had a lovely dinner last night with Dennis and Melissa. Bella was already excited to see them, but then they went and brought her a present for her birthday, and now she just can't wait for them to come back. Thank you very much for my present, too! Sorry I neglected to open it. I get all flustered when we have people over, wanting everything to be perfect. Which it never is, but then nothing is ever perfect when people aren't here, so why the hell do I freak out? Hmm... Post traumatic stress from all the threats I've been receiving, I think. Anyway, they were here, they were great, we love them and can't wait to see them again. No pressure.

Hope everyone has loads of fun and sun this weekend.

By the way, Bella insisted on wearing the sunglasses which she got for her first birthday (from Kurt, Erika, & Tom, Christian not yet being born), so that she could be like 'everybody' meaning us, her parents. Second, she would not put down the "52 fun things to do at the beach" cards which Tammie gave me for my 29th birthday, I think. People, our birthday month is over, but we just love our presents. Anyone out there waiting for those thank you cards, they'll be coming this week, I swear.

Oh, Brother!

Yesterday afternoon, I was trying to wrangle my little dear into the prone position to change a dipe. I said, "Get over here, sister!"

To which she replies, "I'm not your sister!" As if I am the silliest woman alive.

"Oh, that's right. But Auntie Tammie is my sister." Thinking I'm pretty smart.

"I know. Auntie Mindi is MY sister." At which I was utterly charmed and stumped.

In The Mix

We are creatures of habit. Each night while brushing Bella's teeth, I sing a song. It helps us get through the torture of cleaning her teeth. There are 3 songs in the toothbrushing hit parade. They are: Somewhere Over the Rainbow, On the Good Ship Lollipop, and Animal Crackers.

Tonight, I launched into my rendition of the Rainbow song. When I got to the part about the clouds being far behind me, Bella looks around behind my back and says, "Where? Where are they? I can't see 'em!"

Where worries melt like lemon drops... "What? Worries melt?"

Away above the chimney tops... "Where? (Looking up.) With the clouds? I can't see 'em!"

By the time she got done adding her rap-style commentary, to my already iffy singing, I was laughing so hard she said, "Mom, are you OK? Don't worry. It'll be OK."

Is Summer Over?

Bella helped me clean up all the magnolia leaves the other night, after dinner. No, really. Running and jumping in the leaves kept her busy while I got the yard cleaned up. We're actually going to start watering and seeding again, since rain is on the way. Yahoo!

Potty Time, Almost

She's more than big enough. She's plenty old enough. Goodness knows she's smart enough. But is the child willing to use the potty? Maybe.

After some naked training time, earlier this Summer, I was encouraged. She seemed to almost get it. The peeps went in the potty at least as often as they went on the floor. (It's good when dad goes out of town, huh?)

When embarking on our marathon trip this Summer, I had to make a call. I decided to take the easy way out, and stick to the dipes. I was not about to deliver a 1/4 potty trained child to her grandparents and say, "OK, now finish the job, would ya? I've got a Mexican resort to get to."

Since our return, we've talked extensively about the potty. All talk, no action. Bella asked for her own suitcase when we were leaving on our trip and her grandma and grandpapa got her a Dora rolling backpack and lunchbox, seen here in previous posts. She loves them. She says, "I'm ready to go to school, NOW!"

So we talk. About how big kids, who go to school, use the potty every time. So, she asked a few times to use the potty, sat on it, did nothing, and then announced, "OK, let's go to school now!"

Today, she convinced one of the ladies at the gym childcare that she needed to go poopoo on the potty. She insisted, firmly and repeatedly. (MY child? Yes, shocking, I know.) So they took her in and took off her diaper (which maybe should have been their first clue that she was full of bologna.) and put her up on the potty. She did nothing and told them she was done.

When I went in to pick her up, they shared the story. The look of amazement on my face must have been priceless. We had a popcorn and potty party this afternoon. She's a great sport. She tells me she has to go, sits on it and does nothing, then tells me she's done. Repeatedly. About every 15 - 20 minutes. Then she soaks her pants, underpants, socks and the rug and tells me, "I need dry clothes!" I prefer to have her run around naked, because there's just more feedback on what's going on in the body, but she insisted on the underpants today. She knows what she wants, she's just not quite there yet.

If at first we don't succeed, we'll try, try again.

Terrible 2's, My Ass

The 2's were pretty easy. It's 3 that is proving a challenge. Yesterday was a rough day. Bella woke up in a less than pleased state and it only went downhill from there.

Regardless of the wonderful new Dora cartoons, her favorite cereal, her new favorite juice (tropical carrot), a trip to the park, and loads of attention from mom, she was just not her chipper self.

I tried to stop at the grocery store on the way home from the park. We parked the car and walked up. She asked to go in the red car cart. I said, "No babe, we're only getting a couple things, Mama's going to carry a basket."

At which point sparks flew from her nostrils, sweat poured off her head, hellacious sounds of demonic torture came from her mouth.

I calmly told her this was not acceptable. Demon children don't go to the store, they go home. And we walked to the car.

I managed to get the car unlocked and almost get her into her seat when her fighting instinct kicked in. Like a greased pig, she arched and dodged and perried, twisted and otherwise writhed like one possessed. All the while growling, "Want to go to the grocery store!"

When she failed to make her impression on me, and I failed to actually belt the wily child, she then begged me to hold her. By which time people were starting to take a real interest in us.

For 25 minutes we went back and forth. Calming, talking, holding. Wrestling, growling, agonizing. Believe me, I gingerly flirted with the border between trying to belt her into the seat and out-right hurting her.

At one point, I decided we'd just walk home. After we got about 10 feet from the car, she began screaming, "No, I want to drive home!"

Back to the car. Back to the drawing board. Calm talking. Why this isn't OK. What we need to do.

25 minutes people. That's a long god damn time to be in a struggle of wills with a newly 3 year old.

I knew that I could just stop butting heads with her and take her into the store and everything would suddenly be right in her world. But I knew if I caved, I'd be doomed to repeat this scene again. Once was really far more than enough.

At the magical 25 minute mark I managed to loosen her 5 point restraint system, get her hips pushed back into the seat far enough and quickly enough, to get the two small buckles hooked between her legs. I then tried in vain to get her arms into their respective loops and the chest snapped. After a few minutes struggle and more growling, I gave up the arms and just tightened her in, so she couldn't escape.

I then told her to calm down, climbed in the front, started the car, blasted on the A/C and a turned on a quiet disney tape. And cried.

It took me three more furtive tries to get turned around and get her arms hooked in. On the third try I actually said, "I be you're hungry, want these goldfish? You do? Then put your arms in the belts." And like a small miracle she did. I gave her the crackers and we left.

A total of about 40 minutes, felt like hours. Crushed my ideas of who my child was and how many tools I had in my parenting toolbox.

I was THAT mom. The one with the out of control screaming, flailing child. The one who can't calm her child. The one you watch for 40 minutes, while you talk on your cell phone, keeping CPS appraised of the situation.

My daughter is 3. She wasn't raised by wolves, and has not yet been taken over by demonic possession. She is smart, willful, and pushes boundaries, but ordinarily has a very warm and carefree nature.

Last night, when she was walking into her bedroom she told me, "I'm sad." Instead of my usual, "It's OK." I chose a different tack. I say, "Good. The way you behaved today at the store made mom sad, it made dad sad, and it should make you sad, too."

She looked a bit surprised and truly sad. I added, "But tomorrow is another day, another chance to be good and have a great day." And she skipped on over and hopped in her bed with a smile on her face.

Tomorrow is another day.

You're Beautiful

Last week, we had another milestone. I know, by three I should stop looking for these, particularly since I didn't do a baby book for my daughter. As the mother of one, I am deeply ashamed, in small spasmodic doses. Someday, when I come to grips with the fact that I haven't even scrapbooked any of her beautiful baby pictures... Well, then I may just have to publicly flog myself, or something. Regardless of my predilection to avoid the uber-mommy-fad of the moment, I do occasionally mark milestones.

On her own whim, Bella burst into song in the car. This has happened before, but only with the disney song tape we keep for emergencies. We were listening to "The Beach" 101.7, which plays pop and some 80's and 90's 'oldies'. They were playing James Blunt's song "You're Beautiful" and she chimed right in with the chorus, "You're beautiful, you're beautiful. It's true."

For maybe the millionth time in 3 years, my heart filled up to about bursting. This kid has me wrapped. No doubt about it.

Since I have no picture to go with this post, I want to tell my siblings: You're beautiful! (This one is for Elizabeth, too. Thanks for reading.)

Apparently only Lannia got the "See no evil, speak no evil, hear no evil." instructions.

Everyone smile, wait, except Dawn. Dawn, look like you're praying. Karen, look at Dawn. Cheese!

Wow. Yes, the fashion of the late 70's and early 80's hit us hard, as a family.

I love you guys! You're all beautiful, Eric, too! :)

Another Beautiful Day in Paradise

We went to the park yesterday, as you may know from my previous post. It was beautiful.

The night before last, Tammie and Joe watched Bella and Andrew took me to dinner and a concert for my birthday.

The concert was at the Mountain Winery, which is confusing to me, because I keep wanting to call it the Cedar Mountain Winery, which I know is wrong. I know it's wrong because that is where Tammie and Joe got married. It is located in Livermore. The Mountain Winery is located on a mountain in Saratoga.

Downtown Saratoga is fully loaded with pretentious yuppies and fancy-dancy over priced restaurants. Wait, let me rephrase that. Saratoga is a beautiful oasis of civility, it is devoid of homeless people. Or, if there are homeless people around, they are dressed by the city council to match the decor of the semi-rustic looking buildings or local flora.

Don't get me wrong, I do like gourmet food. There are several expensive, white tablecloth, highly recommended restaurants in the 1 mile strip of downtown. The problem is, on my birthday, I wanted something I hadn't had in quite a while. A really good burger, real fresh onion rings, and a coffee shake. I wanted the food that made being a vegetarian impossible all those years ago. I wanted the food I don't make at home. We went to a diner in Los Gatos, called The Diner, and had a great dinner and enjoyed superb service and a fun, light hearted 50's atmosphere. It was fantastic.

After dinner, we drove through downtown Saratoga and out onto the windy road with posted 20 mile an hour signs (which no one observes), around curves, into blinding mountain sunset glare, it is most exhilarating. Past several poorly marked streets, when we were just about to throw in the towel we hit a sign that corresponded to our directions and we turned up, into the mountain. A little farther up the mountain we saw the gate and turned in. Mountain Winery is the historic Paul Masson winery. As soon as we crossed the gates, we saw the ancient grape vines winding their way upward.

Up and up we went. If we had not been in an open air Mercedes transport truck, bouncing through the jungles near Puerto Vallarta a few weeks ago, the steep, winding, bumpy road would have scared the pants off me. As it was, we were very entertained, and grateful we weren't trying to walk up to the winery.

We got into the parking lot, without a hitch, and as we stepped out vertigo hit us both. Imagine a slab of asphalt, on top of a fair sized mountain, at about a 45 degree angle. It's like the fun house or the nightmare where everything looks OK, but suddenly you've lost your footing and you're sliding off the earth.

The estate is a very nicely done event location. There is wine for sale along with espresso and the usual concert goo-gaws.

But I haven't yet told you who we were going to see. Toad. Toad the Wet Sprocket. They were wonderful, as always. Glen, the lead singer did a lot more talking than we remembered from previous shows. Perhaps it was the intimacy of the small venue, or the cool clean air. Is there clean air in the Silicon Valley? No. So that can't be it.

He was telling us that he doesn't write those "catch your eyes across the room, wonder who I'll be taking home tonight" kind of love songs. Apparently he's been with his wife since he was 18, that's 17 years now.

Plus the bands children were marching around, checking everything out before the show. Their cuteness made up for so much. It helped make up for the fact that few of the wine-o's made it to their seats for the 7 p.m. start of the show. It helped make up for the OBNOXIOUS women sitting behind us, who were chatting so loud during the first few songs, I could have committed homicide.

Seriously, if you put the effort into going to a concert, and you put in the extra effort to get into the first few rows (we were in row 2, yeah!) then maybe you could have the courtesy to catch up with your vapid friends BEFORE or AFTER the show. When you're so close that the BAND can hear your pointless yammering in quiet spots, you need remedial charm school.

I shot them a few looks. I did. It didn't work. Finally, between songs, I'd kind of turn around and exclaim, "Oh my god!" in my most valley airhead voice. Yes, I did. And they shut up after I did it like 3 times.

The sun set during the show. The music was great. The proximity was amazing. The candor and ease of a band that's known each other so long was fantastic.

A beautiful evening in a beautiful place. It was the best birthday present (aside from getting to be a mom a week before I turned 31) I've ever had.

Que?

Dora: "Can you say por favor? PORRRR FA-VORRRRR?"
Bella: "Bore my more."

Monkies on a Plane

Last night we flew home. With much drama to be covered at a later date (that isn't my birthday).

I thought the greatest show was when Bella marched up and down the top of the stairs chanting, "I'm going home! I'm going home!" But that was only the first of many shows yesterday.

Once we got onto the plane and settled, Bella began yelling over and over "I'm ready to go now!" while the rest of the passengers boarded.

Then she began chanting "Land. Land. Land" As we descended.

It was maybe just a tad embarrassing when she said quite loudly, "These people need to get out of the way." while waiting for our turn to get off the plane.

She's a real pistol, our girl.

Hushabye

Yesterday we had the nap tantrum extravaganza. It was surreal. Bella went down in her bed, but I heard a little thud 20 minutes later. I walk in, she's out of her bed, climbed up onto the big bed (which is on risers!) and is swinging around a large piece of 1' PVC pipe.

"Where did that come from?" She says nothing and looks toward the window. Aha! She's pulled the weight out of the end of the roman shade. Very tricky, she's obviously been monkeying around for some time. I put it back, tell her that's not OK, and tuck her back into bed. I say, "Be a good girl, stay in your bed, and go to sleep."

Another 20 minutes pass and she is calling me. She says, "Help Mama, put it back!" I do. She's up on the bed. Again. I tell her in my most stern voice that I'm not pleased. I give her the choice. Sleep in your bed, sleep in the big bed (with pillows on either side so she won't roll off, I worry, OK?) or have a time out in her bed.

Her answer? "NO!"

"No is not an option. Sleep in your bed, sleep in the big bed or time out. That's it."

"NO!"

So I put her in her bed for a time out. Executive decision. She throws a bit of a fit.

Once she is calm I tell her she has had her time out and can go play. Soon it is time for her medicine. In an uncharacteristic move, she wrestles me as though she is an alligator when we do her inhaler. Once I give up and put it away, she yells for 10 minutes, "I wanna do my puffer!"

After telling her no three times, I move on to the tylenol. For maybe the second time in her life, she refuses. I open her mouth and pour it in (no syringes here, unfortunately) and she spits half out. I wipe her up and try to send her on her way, but now she is screaming, "I want my tylenol!"

At this time, I move into the next room and start reading the newspaper. She fusses, quiets, rages, quiets, kicks it up another notch and then I say, as calmly as I can, "All you are doing is showing me that you should have gone to sleep at naptime."

Amazingly she quiets herself and comes over and asks me to play with her. I do, we have a good rest of the day.

Today is another story.

It's not a choice I'd make every day, but our girl needed her rest. And after 1/2 hour of the same monkey business we had yesterday, I said, "OK, if you can't go to sleep on your own like a big girl, mom will stay with you."

Every move she made to get up, open her eyes, play with the bunny, play with the crib with her feet, I was there to tell her quietly to stop. I was laying up on the bed, where she really wanted to play, my eyes were mostly closed, but I caught every move she made and thwarted it.

At long last, after I bored her into submission, she started snoring and I sneaked out.

Oy! That girl of ours! Two hours later and, you guessed it, she's still asleep!

Dora, Dora, Dora

I think this will be the year of the Dora obsession.

Sick Sick Saga

For those in our inner circle, the circle of trust, the chain without chinks...

You know that I've had a cough now, nigh on 3 weeks. I feel as though I've spread my TB from here to there and back again. By plane and Mercedes open air truck, on zip line and shuttle bus alike.

This morning we, as a small family explored the experience of visiting an urgent care location in another state. My cough seems to have spread to my illness prone child and I have been overcome by guilt.

As it turns out, it is fairly easy to do. And if you arrive just when they open on a Sunday, you are seen quite quickly. We were in and out in less than an hour, and that included a substantial amount of paperwork.

Bella's ears were not full of 'buggies' and her lungs are also clear. Yahoo! She's just got a cold, so we'll keep hopping her up on the cold medicine and tylenol, and try to get her to drink her sippy and eat something (she's dropped a pound already, if only we could all drop pounds so quickly!), and using the inhaler to prevent her lungs from getting gunky. Hopefully she'll snap out of it and feel better by the time we get on the plane Wednesday night.

As for me? Be it sinusitis or some kind of bronchitis, I got amoxacillin. Whoo-whee! No specific diagnosis, but my lung gunk and fever (but not my elevated blood pressure, stress is ugly) were enough to buy me into the antibiotics game.

I even got to try the InstyMeds machine, where I got my prescription filled by a vending machine in the lobby. It was slick, and a mere $6. I highly recommend it.

Happy Birthday Annabella!

It's a terrible cliche to say, "I can't believe she's three years old already."

Happy birthday, my big girl! You are growing into such a lovely little lady. Everywhere you go, you charm the pants off people. In a good way. Your face is so open, it just invites comments and conversation. One peep of those big blue eyes of yours and people stop to play. We meet people in restaurants, at the airport, garage sales, stores, and the post office.

And you just know that the people at the post office, both in line and behind the counter, are not so easily charmed. Otherwise we would not have the expression, "going postal."

In the last year you have gotten so much stronger, physically. You have grown to over 40 inches tall, passing the 3 foot mark in a sprint, and just passed the 30 lb. mark for the last time (knock wood).

You've been sick almost as much as you've been well. That seems to be a small price to pay for getting to play with a lot of other really swell kids at the gym child care. You're such a trouper, even when you feel crummy, you charm the pants off the doctors and nurses at your pediatricians office. They have told me numerous times that you are the most cooperative, best mannered child they've seen all day.

You always make me very proud.

You are done with all your post-preemie interventions. It's just us now, doing our best to keep you on track. Even so, I'm sure you'll do just fine. You've kept us in line so far.

You are talking up a storm. This morning you threw out the term "colorful" to describe a ball you picked out. Yesterday, your first bit of the day was a fairly complex 8 word sentence, followed all day long by 10 and 12 word sentences. You understand feelings, are so loving, communicating with you daily is a complete joy.

I can't wait to see what you accomplish in the coming year. I love you so much.

Mmbleh!

Catching flies? Bored with the train set? Hmm...

Nobody knows. Nobody knows where these things come from. Mocking-Bird Jenkins strikes again, though!

This afternoon, as I was tucking the girl-wonder into her big girl bed for a little rest, I was telling her that she did a good job today at Aunie Mindi's house. That she did a good job sharing and being nice to Nicholas who is just a little guy and just learning all kinds of things. Including adjusting to being a big brother. Yadda yadda yadda. Right?

And so, she says to me, "Mama, you make me SO proud."

Which is really where I was going with this train of thought. That she makes me proud. It's really pretty darn sweet to hear that I make her proud.

Love her.

Look Who's 3 (in 2 days)

Who is that cutie behind the balloons?
Why, it's Super-Party-Giddy-Glee-Girl!

Miss Me?

I've been burning up in Minnesota. My grandparents are now fully under my control. I am the boss of everyone! Yeah, me!

Fishies!

Can I tell you how freaking cool it is to live within 40 minutes drive of the Monterey Bay Aquarium? I love it. Bella loves it. Andrew loves it. We got a family membership, for a year, and have already gone twice.

(Yes, you can see kayakers out the window on the bay.)

Yesterday Bella and I headed down to check it out during a week day, after our meeting in the morning. We celebrated the end of her physical and developmental therapy by watching the otters, the fish, playing with water games, and touching a little ray. Very cool. Bella wasn't interested in the food I packed for her, but as we were walking back to the car, to go home, we passed Sly McFly's restaurant. We'd gone out to lunch there after our last visit and she says to me, "Oh Mama, need to go have some lunch there."

Our first mother-daughter solo lunch went quite nicely. I expect there will be loads more where that came from. She even sat on a regular chair instead of a highchair. Big girl! She seems to have grown up tremendously in the last two weeks. Perhaps because she hasn't been sick (knock wood). See for yourself.

I know I'm biased, but could she BE any more lovely?

If I Had a Pony

Where's my ponytail?

Oh, here it is!

Now will you please leave me alone?

Seriously, mama.

OK, now really, I finally managed to get Bella's hair into a tiny little ponytail. She looked so grown up and girly, it almost made me cry.

Then I thought back to how tight mom used to put in our ponytails. (Because really, when there's 4 of them, or 8 depending on whether we wanted doubles, you only want to do them once, right?) And my eyes actually watered. I remember running my hands up into my hair when I got to school, out of moms vision, and not actually loosening the ponytail, just pulling my hairline back to where it was before the poinytail.

Ouch!

Weight, Weight, Don't Tell Me

The average adult gains 2 lbs. per year. While 3 years old, most children will gain 4 - 6 pounds and grow 2 -3 inches. I'm guessing we'll see 8 - 10 lbs. this year and no less than 4 inches.

During her May/June colds Bella dropped some weight. Most congested people don't feel like eating. But I'm pleased to say that 2 weeks ago she was back at her May starting weight of 29.5 lbs. and today she was up to 30 lbs. even. Wahoo! This puts her at the 46th percentile for 35 month olds. She's climbing her way back up to the 50th.

Seeing as she'll be spending some time with her grandparents in Minnesota very soon, I'm sure we can count on her putting on some additional weight. She eats things for them she won't touch for me. Now, if only they were pushing the green veggies, that would be ideal, but you can't have everything. At least they're not pushing coffee...

My mom tells me that after I would spend a weekend with my grandparents (ages 0 - 6) I would usually come home about 5 lbs. heavier. Drinking coffee loaded with sugar and milk, eating pancakes every morning along with a pound of bacon, pizza at the dime-store soda counter, trips to McDonald's, and candy from Name's corner store all made that very easy.

I'm not sure we can count on 5 lbs. but I'm quite sure we can count on some good eating. Maybe they'll throw some corn and carrots in there, just for me.

Summer Time

These days it seems like every time I sit down to compose a little post about my girl, or our life, or other such things, my mind goes completely blank. I see the vast whiteness of the moveabletype interface and my mind follows into a soothing emptiness. While this zen meditation may be great for me, it's not so good for family and friends who want to keep in touch.

In less than one month, my teeny, tiny, little baby will turn 3 years old. I can't believe it. No other three years of my life have flown by in such a blur. A blur, I tell you!

On Friday we have a meeting with her physical therapist and her case worker to end services. We had the option of switching over to the school district for services, but that just seemed unnecessary. Sure, she still walks on her toes some of the time. Sometimes lots of the time. Whether it is from habit, spite, neglect of her exercises, just to get me all riled up, or because she enjoys it (and the attention she gets for it) remains to be seen.

Other than that, she is indistinguishable from a full-term child of almost 3. Taller than most, which is a huge shocker, considering how small she was and that preemies often stay small their whole lives. But otherwise just a regular old kid. Who sometimes says outrageous things like, "Oh my god! Knock it off! How does that work? What's up with that? That would be cool. Mama, I love you so much!" OK, I threw that last one in because I can't get enough of it. At very least she's not swearing.

She's very nice to other children. She patronizes and helps smaller children and emulates older ones. She waits her turn, asks nicely for things, and says "Excuse me!" when she needs to get by someone. Part of me can't wait to get her into a regular play group or activity so she can make her first best friend. Right now, I guess you could say her best friend is a little girl named Lila, who is a regular at our gym daycare. The two of them chase each other around and laugh like little maniacs. Lila, who is 6 months younger than Bella, helps Bella put on her shoes and is already well on her way to being potty trained. She has big sisters though, which helps.

Having taught preschool, it's kind of wild to have a 2 year old who has been able to count to 10 and known her ABC's for almost a year. Colors, shapes, animals, it is amazing. She's amazing. I think the next concept we'll start focusing more time and energy on (other than the potty training!) is time, clocks, calendars, days of the week, months and seasons. Goodness knows she likes her holidays, so that will help.

Before I got sick at the end of my pregnancy, I was expecting a perfectly normal child. Once she was born so early, I hoped for the best. It's shocking to not take any of her achievements for granted. Part of me hopes I never do, but part of me hopes that in time I'll be relaxed enough to take some of them for granted. Please, someone slap me if, when she's 5 and says, "Please pass the applesauce." and I respond with, "Here you go, good asking!" Seriously.

Maybe I'd be so doting and proud, even if she hadn't been born so early. All children are amazing, the way they grow and mature and become more themselves. Who can say what might have been. All I know is what is, and it's pretty darn amazing.

Hot and Cold

My girl has hot and cold running emotions.

This afternoon, she was giddy with delight. Tonight, everything was a tragedy. And it wasn't even past her bed time. I performed one of the most difficult parenting maneuvers to date. She melted down, stopped listening, I set her on her bed, told her to let me know when she was done, and I left the room.

She got up after a while of fussing and called me, said, "I'm so sorry." and we moved on with a hug.

She's fine, but I feel all funky. It worked a lot better than I thought, that's for sure.

Watering the Garden

Could they be any cuter? What you can't see is that Bella puts on her rain boots to go out and help water the garden. Too cute.

Her latest phrase, which pains me, is "Oh my god." Said slowly and emphatically. Oy.

Her latest food jag, bowl after bowl of Kashi Mighty Bites. We only had enough for one bowl for breakfast this morning, so she moved on to other things. But, since we went to the grocery store, she insisted on having a couple bowls after she finished her dinner. Could be worse.

Funniest thing she said today, "I have some crack in my toes."

The best part of my day was when she got all snuggled in on the couch with her sippee and her snack and her blanket and Rollie Pollie Ollie on TV, and she says to me, "Mama, hey mama, mama! I love you so much!"

Happy First Day of Summer 2006!

In honor of that, the solstice, and our first day of 80 degrees and sunshine, we present: Girl in Wading Pool.

While I huffed and puffed and blew the pool up, Bella stood next to me in solidarity, cheering me on, "Good job, mama! Good job!"

Then, as she held the hose and filled the pool, she screamed for the whole neighborhood to enjoy, "I did it, mama! I'm doing it!"

Happy Summer days to all!

Out of the Mouths of Babes

Yesterday Bella and I ran out to the grocery store to pick up a few items. Bella loves going to the grocery store almost as much as I do. She is a complete joy to have with me on these trips.

While I was pondering my egg choices and checking for cracks, I stepped a few feet from Bella and the cart. A gentleman walked over and began looking at the butter / margarine selection. While we were both still pondering our choices, his cell phone rang. He answered it and then said, "Wait, hold on a sec, I can't hear you."

He then started a little dance, moving around the vicinity, trying to get better reception.

As soon as he finished this sentence Bella began to say, quietly to him, "Can you hear me now?" Then louder, "Can you hear me now?" Then yelling, "Can you hear me now?"

I can't tell you if the guy was amused, annoyed, or even noticed. I began giggling uncontrollably and couldn't even look over at him to gauge his reaction. I just giggled, grabbed the cart and strolled away.

Gosh, I love that girl.

Weekend Pictures to Enjoy

Check me out, people! I'm not bald anymore!

Oh yeah, I know how to use binoculars!

Mom finally managed to get the kite off the ground. OK, yes, I finally let go of the tail, but those froggies are CUTE!

And I totally sleep in a big bed. Mom can not get enough of my cuteness, even when I'm sleeping.

Happy Memorial Day Weekend!

A retrospective. Have a great weekend!

2004

2005

2006

Mother's Day Pictures

Before you see them, I must let everyone know that I am ashamed that I am fundamentally unable to take pictures of anything but my daughter. I do take some, but they never seem to turn out. Sorry.

Christen shares Fina with Bella.

They made me a mom, then they gang up on me and kill me with squishiness.

"I see purple!"

Hope everyone had as great a day as we did!

Stop! Now Dance!!!!

Click on the image below to see Bella's "Stop, now dance!" dance.

Are you looking for something?

I am pleased to announce that the child seen here shakin' her groove thang is done being sick.

How do I know? A pronounced lack of shrieking and whining in our house. A subtle return of her sense of humor and chattiness. Along with her appetite, which is something requiring a hollow leg.

Shortly after an early breakfast this morning, I cleaned Bell up and set her off on her way. She returned, grabbed at the bottom of my robe and asked, "What you got in there, mama?"

While I was thinking of something whitty (this was pre-coffee, people) she said, "Wild animals?" Opened the robe further, stuck her head in and yelled, "Hello!?! Wild animals, where are you?!?"

Good thing I wear pajamas.

Beach Blanket Bingo

Just last weekend, Bella was all set to hit the beach for a party.

Sleepy Times

One week ago today, Andrew and I bit the bullet and converted Annabella's crib into a toddler bed.

We had been putting it off for various reasons. Chief among them that she is a good sleeper and why mess with hard-won success? Second most important, her room gets COLD at night, as if it has no insulation. And while it only gets down to the 40's and 50's here at night, that is still a wee bit too cold for my daughter to sleep in. So, her grandma made her a giant sized sleep sack, in the coolest psychedelic fleece her grandpapa picked out. It was the bomb. She adored it.

Well, one afternoon last week, Bella had a meltdown, as 2 year olds do, and was put in her bed to come down. When we went to get her out, she had her foot up on the railing. As if practicing for a ballet class.

All bets were off.

The rail had to come off, and fast. So we talked up the big girl bed even more and then we bit the bullet and took it down.

It's been an interesting week, because she's also sick and she's also decided to mostly give up the daily nap.

We've stood sentry outside her door, telling her to get back in bed. Rocked her, read stories and all that good stuff. Kindly and gently guided her back to bed in the middle of the night. Installed a gate on her doorway, because she scared the devil out of me at 5 a.m. I was in the middle of a dream and she had walked into our room and was standing right next to me when she started whispering in what sounds like Martian... She was mostly asleep.

We had several nap battles this week where she would not stay in bed. Asked for a movie and promptly crashed on a blanket on the floor in front of the TV for 2+ hours. Not tired, my foot.

Last night, when I got back from Tammie and Joe's, I peeked into her room at about midnight. My heart fell when I saw her bed empty. I stepped in, over the gate, to investigate and my panic didn't go away until I saw her head and shoulder sticking out from under her bed. She was peacefully asleep, mostly under her bed. Maybe it was warm under there? Maybe she fell out of bed? Either way, I scooped her up and when I got her back into bed she said, with half-closed eyes, "You rock me?"

So I snuggled her warm, squishy sleepiness in the rocker for a little while and then tucked her safely back into bed.

At this very moment, she is crashed out on her bedroom floor. I had just finished vaccuuming her room and moved on to the living room. I asked if she wanted to help me dust (she usually does). She told me, "In like 20 minutes." For real. Not that she knows what 20 minutes is, but it is one of her favorite expressions. So I went about tidying things up so I could vaccuum in there without sucking toys in the the vaccuum.

Things got very quiet in the house. The kind of quiet that strikes terror in my heart, because when Bella is doing something very wrong and very dangerous, she does it very quietly. I put down my duster and walk back to her room, only to find her completely asleep on the floor with the light on.

Change comes along all the time, it is almost constant when you are watching your child(ren) grow. What was yesterday, is not today. Time to adapt, grow as a parent, grow with your child.

Over less than a month Bella has learned to climb into her high chair herself, given up the bottle completely, and learned to stay (for the most part) in her own big girl bed. She's grown so much and talks so much. She's sweet and always interesting and I feel very lucky that she made me a mom.

Thick as Thieves

Look at these two, ready to go knock over a liquor store or something.

Normal Candy Consumption

To be entirely honest, I don't let Bella have a whole lot of sweets. She eats little enough as it is, and if she were to fill up on candy and junk, she'd eat nothing nutritious all day.

That being said, after she did a good job on her bagel with cream cheese Easter morning, I let her have some candy. Her very first lollipop (which she was enthralled with after learning the song) which came directly from Disney Land. And a nice healthy carmel filled chocolate Easter egg. Candy is a traditional part of Easter breakfast, if you ask me. The girl has got to learn.

But the look on her face of "Oh sweet, sweet lollipop, at last I've found you, and we must never be separated again" is priceless.

Bunny Ear

What's that? I can't hear you. Bunny in my ear.

Potty Talk

Being a mother has opened up a whole new area of conversation for me. Staying at home with Bella, and her inching right up on the 3 year marker, means we spend a lot of time talking about the potty.

Do you have to go potty? Is your dipe wet? Did you poop? Are you pooping? Let's go change your diaper. Can you please tell me when you need a clean diaper? Can you maybe tell me before you need a clean diaper and we'll go to the potty? Little potty or big potty? Want to try the potty? Want to sit on it and read your book?

Yeah. I'm a broken potty talking record and while the girl is very comfortable with the whole potty situation, the light hasn't quite clicked on for her.

We talk about big girls, wha