It hasn’t been all sweetness and (crazy overexposed) light. But it’s been pretty sweet.
Happy 8th anniversary!
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From the category archives:
love
I am grooving on this little girl this week. To wit:
1. Last night she voluntarily, cheerfully, and capably washed a huge sink full of dishes. I may still have to remind her regularly to take her plate to the sink and put her pajamas in the drawer, but did I enjoy having post-dinner clean-up cut in half, at least just that once? I did.
2. For the past few days she has been giving Opie “homework assignments” after school. She dot-to-dots letters and numbers for him to trace and then gives him a letter grade for each page (ranging from A+ to Z-). He loves it.
3. She was one of two kids from her school chosen at random to spend the morning at our local fire station. She was so excited you would have thought she’d won the lottery. She got to slide down the pole, have lunch from McDonald’s (no firehouse chili?!), and be driven back to school in an honest-to-god fire engine. She tried on the gear and reported that the helmet was so heavy she couldn’t walk in it. And one of the firefighters nicknamed her “Crumb” because she was the smallest kid there.
(crummy souvenir photo)
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If you’ve been to Julie’s, you know we’ve been to Julie’s this past weekend. There was much eating (thank you Kyle!), musical beds, walks around the neighborhood, cooing at the baby (OMG the baby. He is edibly cute), an intense game of Taboo in which Nancy‘s name was invoked (how else could I explain “hat trick” without saying the word “hockey”?), and not nearly enough picture-taking–partly because I left my camera at my brother‘s overnight. (Ask Julie about how he returned it on his motorcyle, fully decked out in leather and chains.)
Once again, Jo and Tacy picked up without a moment’s hesitation and didn’t leave each other’s sides, awake or asleep, for the entire length of the visit. Neither did Jo wear any of the clothes we brought for her, preferring instead to raid Tacy’s closet. I don’t know if it’s the fact that they spent so much time together as infants (nearly every day from three months to two years) or the fact that we parents do our best to encourage their continuing relationship, but these girls have a strong bond that’s now weathered four years apart. I hope it never breaks.
Goodbye Denver–we’ll be back as soon as we can.
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I’m ashamed to admit it, but I think–right now–that I have a favorite child. I love Jo utterly; this summer’s events brought that home like nothing else could have. She’s funny and sweet and affectionate and generally well behaved. I love to spend time with her and am so proud of everything she can do (and wants to do and tries to do).
But Opie, at least lately? It’s like he’s made out of candy and Champagne and ice cream all rolled into one. Even when he’s being a typical 3-year-old pain in the butt I can’t stop thinking about how much I adore him. I don’t know if it’s a mother-son thing, or a youngest child/baby lust thing, or something else entirely. He’s smaller, snugglier, and, well, just kind of cuter than his sophisticatedly 6-year-old sister. He still makes hilarious, nonsensical pronouncements (the other day he reported that he’d had tacos for lunch and they made “all the babies in my tummy really sick.” Duly noted, then, no more tacos, and also, I’ll alert the media). I can still carry him around on my hip and at bedtime, he says “Mommy, dance me a wittle” and rests his head on my shoulder.
Anyway, I defy you not to fall for a guy like this (10 seconds):
Please tell me I am not crazy. Well, except for letting my child out in public wearing the jetfighter print shorts with the striped polo and bright red boots. Or for letting him use the patio table (where we, like, eat and stuff) as his stage. Okay fine.
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The news is all GLOOM! DOOM! World! Ending!
And yes–pretty much true. But let’s put that aside for a moment and talk about the fact that Kimberly loves my blog. So, happy thoughts! Thank you, Kimberly.
And now I get to say which blogs I love. Which seven blogs I love, which as you can imagine is not really possible. Seventy-seven, I could do.
So here are the most recent additions to my reader, because if they’ve earned a spot there then I must love them. (And if you’re not listed, that just means I already loved you.)
Dirt & Noise. A few good rants about Sarah Palin and I was sold.
It’s Lovely! I’ll Take It! Click over there. You will not regret it.
Motherhood in NYC. Marinka? Is very funny.
Nyack Backyard. Vicarious gardening!
Total Mom Haircut. She taught Martha Stewart a thing or two about blogging.
The Wink. I know, everyone already knows about Amanda, apparently except me.
And my 7th spot (since I always have to find a way to cheat on every meme) goes to all the mom bloggers participating in the Donors Choose 2008 Blogger Challenge. Thanks for supporting such a great cause!
Fine print:
- You can put the award picture on your blog.
- Link to the person who awarded you.
- Nominate at least seven other blogs that you love.
- Put up links to those blogs.
- Leave messages with the blogs you nominated.
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What can’t I live without as a mom, ask to Yoplait Kids and Parent Bloggers Network?
I’m going to have to go the totally corny route and say other moms. Other moms have taught me what to carry, what to buy, and what to ignore. They’ve taught me what to wear, what to sweat, and what not to. They’ve lent me baby gear and dropped off meals in times of crisis. They’ve kept me company on long stroller sojourns and on trips to the mall squeezed in after bedtime. They’ve kept me sane at the playground or cooped up inside when there’s two feet of snow on the ground. (I am so much better at spending long hours with my children when I have a peer of my own at my side.)
They’ve reminded me over and over that I’m not alone. And while I loved my Boppy and my Bjorn and even my breast pump, while I’d never want to give up my bike trailer or chai tea lattes or the DVR or god forbid the Internet, I think I could get through just about anything if a fellow mom was there to hold my hand.
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I went to Back-to-School Night at Jo’s school yesterday and completely ignored the principal’s friendly speech as well as just about everything else that went on. Why? Because the sweetest little budgie baby was in her mother’s lap just inches away from me. Who wants to listen to some gray-haired man talking about parking lot policies when there is an adorable, barefooted, cooing infant in the room?
I mean, come on. There is a reason why actors don’t want to work with kids or dogs. This little girl had the entire crowd in the palms of her bitty pattycake hands.
There is so much to love about a new baby: those impossibly tiny toes, that fuzzy head, those adorable oohs and aahs. When my children were tiny, I think I loved their snuggliness the most–the way they burrowed into my neck; the way their heads fit right under my chin; the way their bottoms rested just so in the crook of my arm.
Kristen and Rebecca, wishing you lots of sweet snuggles with your new little girls!
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Didn’t I just write a birthday post? Poor little guy is always trailing on his sister’s heels. He was so disappointed yesterday when Jo got to bring her birthday treats to school and he didn’t. But now, Opie, this is it! Congratulations. Today is your day.
My sweet boy,
It should be noted that I am writing this post later than I had intended. That’s because you were such a PITA at bedtime last night that I fell asleep before you did. I finally woke up two hours later, wedged awkwardly in the armchair (just like every night of the first year of your life, come to think of it). By that time there was nothing for it but to go to bed myself.
You redeemed yourself, as always, waking up sunshiney and smiling and so pleased to be reminded that today is your birthday. And despite your two-ness and now your three-ness (oh, the three-ness. I hate three), you are still that darling child who will chirp, unprompted, “Thank you for the dinner Mommy! It’s vewwy dewwicious”; or who will tell me my hair looks pretty or who will remind me that we pet our dog “vewwy gent-a-ly.”
Just like your sister, you have changed so much this year. I still find it hard to think of you as a preschooler. No more baby (except, uh, for those Nuks and diapers). You talk–and talk and talk–and sing and dance and run and swim. You love to cook and play your collection of musical instruments. (About that drum set you wanted for your birthday … not happening. Sorry.) You love airplanes and have been my stalwart companion on so many trips.
I am still so thankful for you and always will be. Happy birthday, Opie. You’re off to great places.
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To my favorite girl,
Two nights ago I told you, “Tomorrow is your very last day in your whole life to be five years old!” A smile slid across your face at the thought. I know it’s because you were thinking of your birthday, and all the accompanying treats and presents and attention. But I like to think you realized too what’s so special about this time, this moment of passing from one year to the next.
I’m so proud of how much you’ve grown and learned this year. You can ride a bike and cross the monkey bars and swing a hula hoop. You can read and write and add and subtract. You love science and nature. You can even pull a tractor and direct movies!
I’m proud of the subtler things too. Just the other day when a boy I know you think is a little weird said “hello” to you on the playground, you responded politely and with a smile. You share your toys and books with your brother without complaint. You’ve suddenly grown aware of, and fond of, our dog (even though you’re already making plans for the next pet we’ll get “when she dies”–a bunny or a bichon frise).
It would take another year to sum up all the wonderful things about you and by then there will be so many more.
Happy birthday, clever girl.
The End (from the collection Now We Are Six) by A.A. Milne
When I was One,
I had just begun.
When I was Two,
I was nearly new.
When I was Three
I was hardly me.
When I was Four,
I was not much more.
When I was Five,
I was just alive.
But now I am Six,
I’m as clever as clever,
So I think I’ll be six now for ever and ever.
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