Notes from Naptime

My Space

2011-09-14T18:22:00.000-04:00

Jesse surprised me with a little piece of the internet to call my own, so I'll be hanging out over there now. Come visit, won't you?

http://www.calliefeyen.com/

Clumps of Moments

2011-09-09T07:27:00.000-04:00

This post is inspired from an excerpt of the poem Small Things by Anna Kamienska:
It's not from the grand
but from every tiny thing
that it grows enormous
as if Someone was building Eternity
as a swallow its nest
out of clumps of moments

some of our "clumps of moments:"
a special place to look at letters with a fancy pen
eating a waffle drenched in "seeeryup" with a blue fork on a blue plate
from a mixture of tulle and paint
a Sunday afternoon hike
spending a rainy afternoon at the movies

Lost

2011-09-08T05:47:00.000-04:00

I got lost on vacation. It wasn't anything serious, although for awhile there I imagined my face popping up on one of those AP articles when you log onto your Yahoo email account. Here's what happened: I went for a run one morning and instead of going down the main road, I went behind the house we were staying in, and into the woods.

I realize that was my first mistake. Going into the woods is comparable to scuba diving. Everything starts to look the same. In scuba diving, you don't know which way is up or down, whereas when you're in the woods you don't know which way is left or right. And when I write "you" I mean me. I'm no John Krakauer for crying out loud. Although I did write him once to tell him how much I loved his book about that kid who ran off to Alaska and he wrote me back! John Krakauer, not the kid. The kid died. It's very sad. I'm digressing.

I ran off into the woods because when I started out on the main road there was a bear-like dog having a fit in regards to me running towards his territory. So I turned around and ran like h-e double hockey sticks into the woods.

(Readers of this blog know I'm terrified of bees, but I'm also afraid of dogs. Yes, really.)

I think it's safe to conclude from reading the previous paragraphs that I am not an outdoors person. My idea of "roughing it" is sitting outside at a restaurant with kids. I know nothing about being outside which leads to panic and overreaction. So while I was running around what probably was a five foot patch of land with lots of trees, I was getting a little scared. OK I was a lot scared. And maybe I was crying a little bit but it could've been sweat. I'm not sure.

Jesse's uncle found me. Actually, he and his wife (Jesse's aunt) were a bit concerned that I might not know where I was going because we'd arrived at their place in the dark and I'd yet to scope the place out in daylight. Rookie mistake. So at a point when they either had to assume I was training for a marathon or lost, he decided to go out looking for me. We laughed it off as he showed me the way home.

I've been lost before. I got lost on the way home from Kindergarten once. In high school it took me a good six weeks to remember where my locker was. I was lost at Calvin too, but that was more metaphorical.

Being lost makes me uncomfortable. I don't pay attention too well when I'm uncomfortable. I think, I'm no good in this place, or, I'm not going to try this again. I think that's the real danger. Letting one experience determine what you can and cannot do.

I think in most cases, it's always good to go back and take a second, or third, or thirty-sixth look.

Enough times as it takes until I've begun to pay attention again:

to the excitement one child has for holding a fish, and the fact that the other just wants to throw it back in water...

...or the satisfying thunk the blueberries make after I've plucked them off the bush and dropped them in a bucket....

...and then taking those blueberries home and scouring recipes for blueberry scones, tarts, pies, and smoothies...

...or deciding you've had enough baking and it's time to dance...

Because eventually, you get comfortable. You start paying attention. You decide to try new things.
Like ride around a lake on a bicycle built for two.

I can't really be lost with family. Whether it's with my in-laws or the Lewises and Ayanoglous. They've always made me feel at home. The great thing about that is when it's time to go off on my own, I have the confidence to check out that new place and see what's what.

It's good to get lost every now and then.

I've found some great treasures when that happens.

A Phase?

2011-09-06T06:44:00.000-04:00

For the most part, I think Hadley's a pretty miled mannered kid. She rarely loses her temper, is friendly to everyone, and is generally a go with the flow kind of gal.

Except when we start playing Phase 10. Hadley cannot handle losing this game. She slams her hands on the table. She growls. She throws cards everywhere.

Even if she is winning she'll chant things like, "I am winning and Mommy is a loser." Note that she calls me a loser. Not "Mommy is losING." No, I am a losER.

It's tons of fun.

One night, Hadley asked me if I would play Phase 10 with her.

"I will, but are you going to get mad if you lose?"

Hadley thinks about this for awhile and then responds, "Yes, I will get mad. But I will bang my hands on the table lightly like this."

She demonstrates.

For the record, I wouldn't describe what she did as "light."

But we play, and at one point we are tied. Hadley is not happy about this but I can tell she is trying hard to stay calm about it.

"Hadley? You OK?"

"I'm not happy that we're tied, Mama, but I am happy about something."

"What's that?"

"I'm happy that my name is longer than yours."

Summer Hangouts

2011-09-02T08:02:00.000-04:00

There were afternoons spent at the ice-cream shop,
and mornings spent dressing up.
There were days gratefully spent in the shade at parks,
or cooling off at Starbucks reading books,
writing first letters
and practicing old ones.
We peeked at the sun through trees
and took long walks home without strollers.
The afternoon nap seems to be a memory,
but there are remnants that we like to take with us.

It's been a nice summer.

300th Post

2011-08-31T07:52:00.000-04:00

Hadley loves to hear stories, and she likes to hear them over and over again. It can be a story from a book, which she'll memorize, and repeat to her stuffed animals, or it can be a "real" story - something from when she was younger or when Jesse and I were kids. The one she asks me about most these days is about a time when I was in first grade standing in line to go out for recess and a bold lad decided it'd be OK to kiss the hood of my winter jacket. It was not OK.

I told Hadley this story in the first place to illustrate that not everyone likes to be kissed, or pursued for that matter. Hadley can be a bit of a kissy kisserson and while I don't want to blow out the candle of friendliness, I also want her to understand that there are other ways to say, "Hey! I had fun with you at the park!" besides giving smooches. For crying outloud, this isn't France. Don't they do stuff like that in France?

On Monday night, Hadley wanted to hear a story from when she and Harper were younger. Because, you know, they're so old now. So I told the two of them the story of the time when both were still in diapers and we went to the park. I said, "All was going well until both of you pooped at the same time."

Folks, it's not just boys that think pooping and tooting and butts are hilarious. I am sure to break up a fight, stop tears, turn the entire day around just by using any of the aformentioned words to my girls. And I don't even need to use them in a sentence. I can just say, "butt!" and the day just got better. Needless to say, this story about me having to change two poopy diapers in the backseat of our car while the girls screamed was a real crowd pleaser with the H's.

I'm not always sure what Hadley as well as Harper, will take away from the stories I tell them. For example, I wonder what they think of what happened to us yesterday and how they'll re-tell it one day. Here's what I have to say:

This is a picture of a balloon in Target. It's Harper's balloon. But that's not where I want to start this story. I want to start this story a few hours earlier when the three of us got in the car to go to Romp n Roll. As I'm getting read to pull out of our parking spot, there is a car that is driving in the lot, so I wait for it to pass. Except it doesn't. The car, moving at the quick clip of a turtle, stops behind my car. When I write "stop," I mean the driver of the car turned her car off, and got out of it. I just want to make it clear that she was in the middle of the street, stopped her car, and walked away, thus leaving me blocked in.

I roll down my window and say, "Excuse me, m'am? I need to get out."

She turns around and says, "Oh, OK. I'll be back in just a minute," and continues her stroll.

Would it help to illustrate my reaction here? Perhaps some thoughts that went through my head at this moment? Maybe it'd be best to just write what I said next.

"I need to get out now." I tell her.

Without turning around, the lady waves her hand over her head - AS IF TO BRUSH ME OFF - and says, "You can get out."

To which I reply, "You're a jerk."

Also? This lady was maybe 70 years old.

I felt so bad I texted my cousin Tara to tell her what happened and, always knowing the perfect thing to say wrote, "I just taught Aquazumba to a bunch of 70 yr olds....I get it."

After the girls class at Romp n Roll, they each get a balloon. This balloon is played with and carried around for the remainder of the day. Every Tuesday, for the entire summer, I have had lovely afternooons because Hadley and Harper play with a pink balloon with a purple string all day long. When it runs out of helium, it becomes a dog to pull around on a leash. When that gets old, I'm asked to cut the string off and it becomes a volleyball. It's endless fun, I tell you.

We go to Target after the class and I say to Harper as I'm taking her out of the car, "Can we leave the balloon in the car so it doesn't get lost?"

Because that would be AWFUL if it got lost. But losing a hold of it and watching it float up to the ceiling? That's much better.

We're standing in line paying for computer paper when just that happens. I see it float past my face and think, "Oh, that's Harper's balloon. That's not good." I don't attempt to grab it, though. My reflexes aren't what they used to be.

Harper watches it and then says, "Mommy? Can you reach your hand up to the ceewing and get my bawoon?"

"No, Harper, I can't. I'm sorry. We've lost the balloon."

Harper turns around to take Hadley's balloon. Because, gee, I lost mine, so Hadley won't mind if I just grab hers. This was not OK with Hadley.

Then, as if she's been practicing for this moment all her life, Harper screams, pushes me as hard as she can, then throws herself to the floor. At the same time, the cashier tells me, with a friendly smile, "You lost your balloon."

I'm sorry Harper lost her balloon. I really am. But I'm thinking the sooner we get out of here, the sooner we'll be able to forget this whole thing. That's not what happens. Soon, all the cashiers are noticing the balloon as well as several patrons. Then maintenance is called. It's a whole "to-do." There are walkie talkies and everything. All the while, Harper's screaming and reaching for her balloon, Hadley's holding on to hers for dear life, and I'm laughing slash crying because of the scene I've caused in Target.

Call me a suburban mom, but Target is my happy place. When Hadley was first born, and I wasn't sure what to do to get the crying to stop, we'd go to Target. I'd put her in the Bjorn, get a cup of coffee, and we'd walk around the store checking out the goods. Once, I ran into another mom doing the same thing. We were in the hair product section. We smiled at each other, and then she said, "You looking for anything in particular?" I said, "Nope. Just walking around." She said, "Me too." We both laughed and I felt so much better knowing I wasn't the only person who had no clue what to do with an infant; that there were others who were just figuring it out as they went along, too.

"We can get the balloon for you," a maintenance main tells me.

"It's OK," I tell him.

"It's not a big deal," and he walks to the back of the store.

Harper, Hadley, and I stand against a wall facing the checkout lanes. Every single patron is looking at the balloon along with all the cashiers. Mostly moms, I hear things like, "Oh man, that's not good," and "Who's crying? Whose kid is screaming like that? What is WRONG?" I even heard, "Well. What mother lets her kid bring a balloon into the store? At least tie the thing around her arm!"

When the man comes back with a claw type wand and begins to reach for the balloon, the moms have all kinds of advice, "That's not gonna work," "He should've put a piece of tape on it so the string can stick to the claw." I'm sure he can hear all of it, as I can, standing there holding Harper whose eyes are bugged out with hope that this man will save the balloon.

And he does. He brings the balloon down, and walks it over to Harper while the ENTIRE CHECKOUT AREA of Target is clapping: cashiers, kids, moms, everybody. It was a scene straight out of a Nora Ephron movie.

"Thank you so much," I say to the guy, but I almost blurted out, "I called a 70 year old a jerk a few hours ago. I don't deserve this."

I guess that's not what it's about, though. Even those of us who are in fact the jerks are shown kindness. Whether we deserve it or not.

We get back in the car, and I turn around to the girls and say, "Whew! What a day." Harper eyelashes are crusted over from the dried tears and Hadley is thudding her balloon against the window.

"I think we should go to the park. You guys think that's a good idea?"

"YEA!!!!!"

"But Mama?" Hadley says.

"Yes?"

"I really hope me and Harper don't poop at the same when we're there."

I'll try to keep my cool if that happens.

What To Do When Daddy Goes to Hawaii For a Week

2011-08-23T11:42:00.000-04:00

Drown your sorrows in ice-cream.

Spend his per diem at Toys R Us

Go out with your six and under friends where the food and balloons are free and people are riding around on unicycles.

It makes the time go by much faster.

Hadley- 4,576 Momma - 0

2011-08-17T07:36:00.000-04:00

Hadley: My skirt is prettier than Harper's.

Me: Hadley! Don't say stuff like that. It hurts peoples' feelings.

Hadley: Harper? Did what I say hurt your feelings?

Me: Hadley!

Hadley: Did it, Harper?

Harper: Nope.

Hadley: Well, then I'm sorry to Mama.

Essayer

2011-08-01T22:16:00.000-04:00

Earlier this summer Jesse came home from work and said, "This weekend I'm going to paint our table." We've had the table since we were married in 1999, so I think he wanted to do something a little different with it.

I knew that once Hadley saw what he was doing she would want to help. She'd been wanting to paint her wooden dollhouse for awhile, so just as she was beginning to ask Jesse what he was doing and did he need any help, I set up paints, the house, and a bunch of newspaper.

I encouraged her to plan out how she wanted to paint the house before she dipped her paintbrushes in the paint. Hadley likes to mix all the colors thus creating black. This would be fine except I knew she would be upset and not want to play with the house after it was finished. Although, I could've stored it away and brought it out for Halloween.

Hadley agreed to make a plan of how she would paint the house. I was pleased to have the opportunity to teach my children the importance of a well laid out plan.

Then she started to paint.

Meanwhile, Jesse worked on the table.

I kept thinking of the end of the book Fahrenheit 451 when Granger and Montag are reflecting on their part in the world. Granger says, "Everyone must leave something behind when he dies....A child or a book or a painting or a house or a wall built or a pair of shoes made. Or a garden planted. Something your hand touched....It doesn't matter what you do, he said, so long as you change something from the way it was before you touched it into something that's like you after you take your hands away."

I love that everyone in our little family leaves their mark around the house and on each other so that we are a little bit more like the other.

I love that now that Hadley painted the dollhouse she plays with it more and the stories she makes up when she's playing with it are so much more detailed and (pardon the pun) colorful.

I love that after a week away I came home and saw the table and said, "Oh yeah!" with a smile, forgetting what it looked like and pleased at how nice it looked in the playroom.

Harper's been creating, too. She's begun making "guys" and oh, do I love them.

I love that she gives them all shoes. And look at the hair. It's all slightly raised and not touching the head. The above picture is of our family. Note that Hadley, Harper, and Daddy all have large eyes and Mommy has....well, where are my eyes?

Here's the artist at work.

This is a picture of Hadley working on shape puzzles early in the morning. She studies a picture like an apple, or school bus on a worksheet then tries to duplicate it using magnets in the shape of triangles, squares, etc. While she was working, I was reading my book for the Creative Nonfiction class I'm taking. Hadley likes to be wherever the other family members are. She doesn't necessarily have to be talking to them, but she likes to be near them. So I sat on the kitchen floor and read while she worked on her shape puzzles.

I learned in this lesson that "essay" comes from the French verb essayer, which means to try. I highlighted the following words written by my teacher, Lindsey Crittenden: "An essay is an attempt, a trial...essays 'figure out'.....A successful essay doesn't need to answer the question it poses - but it does need to address and explore it."

I hope everyone in our family understands the thrill and the peace that comes with trying, with exploring. I hope that each time we come back to a favorite toy, a piece of furniture, or a piece of writing we're working on that we find something new we hadn't seen before. Maybe a different way to play with it, or that a table looks lovely next to a certain window. Or maybe the next time we try to draw our "guys" we'll add fingers or perhaps a hat.

Whatever it is, it's wonderful to be able to see a thing that's more like you after you've taken your hands away.

Aint Nobody Be Likin' It

2011-07-27T06:29:00.000-04:00

Have I shared this story before? I was teaching 7th graders and I had one kid who was a bit of a donkey. He gave everyone - teachers and students both - a hard time. I had the pleasure of having him in class during the last period of the day. One afternoon this kid must have taken an extra dose of obnoxious vitamins because he thought it'd be funny to take a spray bottle I had on the chalkboard ledge, and spray me in the face with it.

One thing led to another and he was sent to the principal's office. This happened at the end of the class period so after I dismissed the rest of the kids, I walked downstairs, fists clenched, to the office. To say I was mad is an understatement. This kid had been driving me crazy for months and this incident was the last straw. So when I walked into the office and saw my administrator (who knew what had happened) I said in what might've been an overly loud voice, "HE IS GOING DOWN!" (Who am I kidding? I sounded like I was an announcer at SMACKDOWN.)

And then I turned a corner and saw him. He was curled up in a seat sobbing. This monster of a kid who literally terrorized classrooms was crying so hard I barely recognized him. He wasn't crying because he heard what I'd said (although, that couldn't have helped), and I'm sure it wasn't because he felt terrible about spraying me in the face with a water bottle. He was probably crying because he knew he was about to get punished and it probably would be severe.

All I wanted to do at that point was sit down next to him and tell him it would be OK. That he didn't have to be scared. I couldn't remember why I was so angry, and actually, I felt foolish for being so angry in the first place.

Hadley and Harper were invited to a birthday party on Saturday. There was swimming.

"Oh heyyyyyyy guys! I'm in here too!"

Big shots -

There was pizza.

There was an Ariel cake.

"Where'd everybody go? Y'all don't want any more cake?"

There was a pinata!

"What do you mean I have to give this bat to her? I don't care who's birthday party this is."

"That's cool. I'll just stand here."

"Not gonna move."

"I'm having a hard time understanding the taking turns aspect of this game."

CANDY!

"Hold up, girls! Let me get in on this!"

"That's what I'm talking about."

And then there was this perfect shot of summer:

Does it get any better then letting the sun dry out your bathing suit while you swing and eat a lollipop?

Well, it's nice to have your sister share in on the joys of summer, too.

And then.

It was time to go home and Hadley and Harper decided they were having none of that business. Harper screamed SCAAAREEEEEMED bloody murder letting the greater DC area know there is nothing wrong with her vocal chords. And Hadley? Hadley argued her way out of the pool as I dragged her out. She clawed, pinched, and screamed at me while I dried her off, and while I turned to put the towel away, she jumped back into the pool.

Oh yes she did.

The girls screamed all the way through the parking lot while Jesse and I tried to collaborate on discipline.

Jesse: OK, I told Hadley no TV and no treats tomorrow and you told her no TV for a week, plus no chocolate milk.

Me: I canNOT believe she jumped back into the pool after I dried her off. What have I done wrong that prompted this kind of behavior? I NEVER acted like this....especially at 4.

Jesse: I think we need to focus on what we're going to do about it.

They didn't seem to care that they weren't going to watch TV or get any treats, but we did find something that proved to be a worthy punishment.

We told them we were throwing away their party favors.

When I told Hadley we were going to throw them away her screaming turned to sobbing. Hadley rarely cries, and when she does it's the saddest cry you ever heard. Through tears she asked, "Can I look at the party favors before you throw them away?"

And that's when I rememberd my student crying in the principal's office. It just didn't seem to matter what she did. She was so sad and I am her mother and now I've made her miserable.

I wish we could do it over. I wish I could find the perfect thing to say so that the girls won't scream and yell and treat me like Voldemort when I say that it's time to go. I wish I could've managed the classroom better or been a better teacher so that I never had discipline problems.

I took a "Writing for Children" class taught by Erica Perl a few years ago. We wrote stories and shared them with the group. I wrote a story with the student I'm writing about in this post as one of the main characters. I called him Steven in my piece, and he was wild and obnoxious and funny. I shared my first draft with my classmates and then did some revisions. I took Steven out, and after sharing the second draft everyone said, "Where's Steven? Why'd you take him out? We loved him!"

I have a hard time with discipline. The hardest part is that I see that Hadley and Harper and the boy I'm calling Steven aren't who they are so much more than their actions in these instances. I hate treating them based on their actions but I guess sometimes I have to do it. That doesn't mean I love or admire them any less.

It also doesn't mean that these things don't make for great stories, and maybe they're a teeny bit funny a few days (years?) later.

Sing Anyway

2011-07-25T14:07:00.000-04:00

I was terrified of Psalm 23. It wasn't the shadow of the valley of death part, or the eating with one's enemies part. It was this: "The Lord is my shepherd; I shall not want." When I was memorizing that as a six year old, all I could think was, "Why on earth would anyone want to say they don't want the Lord?" Seemed like we went to church to tell God how much we did need Him and here I was saying that even though he was my shepherd, I didn't want him. And what was a shepherd anyway?

Despite my lack of understanding of Psalm 23, I memorized its verses and said it on a Sunday morning with my fellow first graders in Mrs. Stevens' class. I said them because I loved Mrs. Stevens and I liked the phrases "green pastures" and "leads me beside still waters." I liked that scene. I also liked being in a group saying the words together.

It wasn't until later that I realized the idea that because God is my shepherd, I don't need to want. It was quite a relief to me when I understood that I didn't have to proclaim I didn't want God (Although, I haven't kicked the habit of wanting......a bigger house, to be a writer, to know how to highlight my own hair, to have my children listen to me.....). Today, I am thankful for both my understanding of the Psalm as I am for the memory of me saying it when I was a first grader.

Hadley went to VBS last week. When we sign-up, we get a t-shirt and a CD on the first day. We did the program last year and the CD has been in our car ever since. She and Harper loved the songs and were thrilled to get another CD with new songs on them. We were listening to the songs on the way to VBS Tuesday morning, and I could hear Hadley murmuring the words. I looked at her from the rearview mirror and smiled because she had her signature "I'm learning this stuff" face on: eyes sort of glazed over, mouth open, eyebrows burrowed. I knew that by the time Friday rolled around she'd be singing these songs loudly and with a passion.

I was right.

I don't know how much of these songs she understands, but I do know she loved singing and dancing on stage with the other kids. I know that she loved screaming "THANK YOU GOD" after learned phrases throughout the week such as "God Listens," or "God Loves You No Matter What." And while she was playing at home it was lovely to hear her singing the words to bits of the songs: "I see the stars, I hear the rolling thunder, your power throughout the universe displayed" or "God is watchin', watchin' over you."

Her experience with VBS reminds me of the book The Song of Francis by Tomie DePaola. (Perhaps this should be a post for my Sit a While blog, but I'm beginning to get confused about where to write what.) In the story, Francis of Asissi is filled with the love of God and wants to sing. However, there is no one to hear him. An angel tells him to sing anyway. So Francis does and soon, different parts of creation come to listen and eventually join in.

I think Hadley (and Harper too - she knows the songs even though she didn't go to VBS) experienced that "sing anyway" concept this week, and I think I first experienced it in Sunday School years ago. We won't always know the words to the songs we sing, and quite honestly, I'm not sure I'll ever understand God's love, His grace, His forgiveness.....for me the list goes on. But we should sing anyway. Or write. Or dance. Or bake something delicious. I think it's in the trying and the joining in that we understand a little more of God.

My Kind of Town

2011-07-20T18:25:00.001-04:00

Last week while we were in Chicago, Hadley and Harper found two of my favorite spots in my parents' home.

A vent and a window might seem surprising favorites, but here they are all the same. That vent sits in what was my brother's room, and another one is on the other side where I would whisper to him from my room. This was usually during time - outs when my mom sent us to our respective corners and it was through those vents we'd continue the fight. Well, I would continue to harass Geoff while he simmered. I loved lying on my stomach talking through what I viewed as a secret passage. Even in a time - out I loved being in my home and exploring.

One night last week I was shuffling through some of my stuff in a bag that was next to that vent after I'd put the girls to bed. Hadley strolled in the room, but instead of looking at me, she was looking at the vent.

"What's up?" I asked her in a "you better have a good reason to be out of bed" voice. It's very menacing.

"I'm a...." she only half acknowledged me but continued to look at the vent.

"Yes?"

"Well, I'm.....just wondering how you're doing."

"I'm doing fine, Hadley, go back to bed."

Hadley took one more look at the vent then walked back into my old bedroom to go to sleep. I went back to shuffling through my bag but because I was right by the vent, I heard Hadley's feet stop on the other side. I realized she had discovered that she could hear me through it.

Harper, on the other hand, discovered one of my bedroom windows. Every night, when she was supposed to be sleeping, I found her kneeling on her bed, lookng out of that window. When I walked in to tell her to go to sleep, she'd say, "It's getting wate (late), Momma." I agreed with her and glanced out the window to notice that Harper was watching the sky turn darker shades of blue. I wondered if she was listening to the el shoot past as well, and if it lulled her to sleep like it had me.

If you were to ask Hadley and Harper what their favorite part of the trip was, or where their favorite spot in my parents' house is, I am sure they would not mention the vent and the window. I have a feeling they'd mention with shouts that they loved going to see the dinosaurs,

or visiting the aquarium,

and the zoo.

I liked all those trips as well. However, watching my girls discover and enjoy something that I enjoyed from my childhood was my favorite part.

We can show them the Chicago skyline, walk over the bridges over the Eisenhower and tell them not to be afraid of the rickety whoosh of the trains. We can show them museums, take them swimming and out for ice-cream. All great things. But I think what's most important is that we provide our kids with a safe place to explore. It's nice when we share a common joy in finding a treasure in an otherwise everyday item.

Wonderfully Ordinary

2011-07-08T21:07:00.000-04:00

Give me....

a morning at Starbucks...

and painted toenails....

maybe some time to look for caterpillars.....

and a little time to write.

Seems like a fine set of priorities to me.

Independence Day

2011-07-05T15:34:00.000-04:00

Hadley and I decorated cupcakes yesterday. She was going to bake them with me, but was busy serving a big old T.O. for a fast one she's been pulling on the family for who knows how long. It's to do with keeping oneself clean, but I'm going to give you a little history before I break the day down for you.

Here's the thing: I can't do it all. So in order to help keep the day moving foward, I instruct my kids to do things. I think I read somewhere that giving kids things to do helps them feel like they're a part of the family. Whatever. I want them to CLEAN UP AFTER THEMSELVES. I also expect them to at least try to put their clothes on and wash their hands. These seem like skills one needs to know how to do in order to live in the world. Harper needs a lot of help, but Hadley is perfectly capable of doing these things.

Except she won't do them. The other morning I was cleaning up the dishes from breakfast and I told Hadley to go and get dressed.

"OK, Mama." And off she goes leaving me thinking I'm totally in charge of my life these days. Minutes later, Hadley has rolled herself up in a blanket and is scooting down the hallway towards me.

"Look, Mama! I'm a caterpillar!"

I will give her some credit. She had taken off ALL her clothes.

But the washing the hands task is something Hadley and I have been fighting over for months. Until recently. For quite some time now, I will say, "Hadley, go wash your hands." And she'll say, "OK." She walks happily to the bathroom, turns on the sink, and minutes later walks out. Again, leaving me thinking I can totally control my children.

And that their hands are clean.

All that ended yesterday when Jesse happened to be walking down the hallway while Hadley was in the bathroom. Oh, Hadley turns the sink on all right. She even uses soap. It's just that the soap doesn't go on her hands. She puts a little bit in the sink to make it look as though she's used some. She even gets her hands a little wet so the towel will be damp after she uses it.

I have so many questions. Why go through all that effort and not wash your hands? Where did she come up with this plan? What, in the past 4 and 1/2 years, have I done to show this kind of behavior? Was it the time she caught crouching behind the kitchen cabinets eating a cookie?

Most importantly, how long has this been going on? Like I mentioned, Hadley and I stopped having the wash your hands fight sometime around April.

It's like I'm Bob Ewell.

So Hadley was in timeout because apparentely she hasn't washed her hands for the better part of 4. It was the manipulation that led me to write this post, however. I admit, I took (am taking?) it personally. I think that this somehow reflects on me as a parent.

But we frosted the cupcakes together; and I let her have one later that day. We sat down at the table together and I said, "Hadley, before you eat a cupcake you have to wash your hands."

"OK."

"And really do it this time."

"OK."

I thought about sneaking down the hallway to see whether she was going to do it. But what was that going to do? Make me mad? Put her in timeout again? That's not how I wanted to spend the afternoon. So I sat and waited for Hadley to come back so we could have a cupcake together.

I suppose the thing about independence is we have to give life a go every once in awhile. When we break the rules, though, it's nice to know we have the support and love of our family no matter what.

That's probably what makes kids feel as though they're a part of the family.

Happy Hour

2011-07-01T06:29:00.000-04:00

There were Friay nights when Jesse and I would end the work week, and decide that we were due for a trip to Corby's in South Bend, or Cactus Cantina in D.C. Some nights we would go to one place and then end up at the Hammes Bookstore or Politics and Prose looking through magazines, reading books, or, ehem, doing work (what would we do without work?). I was reminded of those nights last Friday night when we went out for a different kind of Happy Hour.

We picked up some dinner, packed it up and headed for a park for the evening. There were monkey bars, swings, a hiking trail, and plenty of picnic tables. And Hadley learned a new trick!

Jesse, too.

If I had to name a favorite thing about motherhood, I think it would be something along the lines of this: Watching your children experience the world and having a good time doing it. Even if it's hard work, or learning a new trick like sliding down a pole or figuring out how to run without tripping. It's lovely to be a part of it. I think that's the best way to start the weekend.

Happy Weekend to you.

Something Old, Something New

2011-06-29T07:18:00.002-04:00

I bring all the old reliables out to the blacktop: bikes, chalk, bubbles. They serve as a nice rotation when Hadley and Harper are out here.

I bring my camera out just in case there will be a good story to tell, but assume it'll just be more of the H's chalking and biking it up.

But then Hadley goes and writes the alphabet. Backwards.

And Harper figured out how to blow bubbles without swallowing (too much) bubble juice.

And we found some friends to join in on our hopscotch game.

You might notice that there's not really an order to what's in the hopscotch squares. The kids used letters, numbers, and just left some blank. Why not?

It was a good day out on the blacktop. I'm glad I broght my camera.

I'm linking up to Becky's blog over at "Rub Some Dirt on It," and adorable blog that's worth checking out!

Why I Think I Won't Homeschool

2011-06-28T06:51:00.000-04:00

During quiet time, Hadley sometimes likes to practice her letters and words. The worksheets she currently works on have the two solid lines and the dashed line in between to help write the letters correctly. Hadley doesn't follow those lines, and she also likes to fit as many words as she can on one line. Very much the engineer, this one.

Recently, after completing an exercise, Hadley showed it to me and I told her that while it was good (Great! Spectacular! Outstanding!), she was supposed to write the words out using the lines as guides....not smooshed up making it difficult to read them.

"Would you like to re-do this, Hadley?"

"Sorry Mom, I only do things once."

Overheard At The Playroom Table.....

2011-06-24T06:37:00.000-04:00

The conversations between Hadley and Harper are currently the best argument to have more than one kid. The following conversation occured while the girls were coloring together, and I think what's important to point out is that it was completely quiet before Harper began talking. As far as I know, nothing except what was in her brain prompted this discussion. And after the conversation ended, it was quiet again. The only thing you could hear were their crayons nubbing along on the paper.

I was laughing a little bit, too.

"Hadwee, panda bears eat shampoo."

"Huh?"

"I said, 'panda bears eat shampoo.'"

"No they don't, they eat bamboo."

"Oh."

That's what older sisters are for, Harps.

Probably Won't See This On The Food Network

2011-06-22T19:56:00.001-04:00

I'm taking a creative nonfiction course through the folks over at IMAGE and I'm halfway through it. I was looking at some of the earlier things that I wrote for the class and thought that the following piece would match the pictures I took earlier of me and Hadley baking chocolate chip cookies. (Note that in my piece we are making raspberry crumb bars, not chocolate chip cookies. I'm not sure that's super important because the theme of the piece holds no matter what we were making.)

“Mama, can I help you cook?” Hadley asks me when she spots me with my finger on a recipe for Raspberry Crumb Bars from the Magnolia Bakery Cookbook.

She sits cross legged on the kitchen counter, hunched forward working on writing words she knows: “Hadley,” “Harper,” “Mom,” “Dad,” “No Boys Allowed.” Her hair is swept up in a pink ribbon to match the black and pink sweatshirt and leggings she’s wearing. I keep my finger on the ingredient list for the Raspberry Crumb Bars and look towards her. Her four year old fingers grip the marker she’s writing with and her eyes are lowered so I get the full effect of her eyelashes.

“Yes, you can help me cook.” I say.

“Great!” she puts the marker down, and swings her legs around to let them dangle off the counter.

The sun pours into our condo, and I see shadows of tree branches on the walls above the bookshelves. I look for buds.

“Can you help me get down, Mama?”

“Sure.” I place my hands under Hadley’s armpits and hoist her on my hip. I should put her on the ground, but just because I can still do it, just because she still fits perfectly on my hip, I hold her for a second and give her a kiss on her cheek.

“OK, so what ingredients do we need?” Hadley asks, all business.

I put her down and we step over to the pantry to get the flour and sugar. “Never Say Never” by The Fray plays on the radio. The lead singer pleads, “don’t let me go” over and over.

“I love this song.” I say as I dump a pound of butter into a saucepan.

“Mmmmm, I don’t really like it. It’s not fast.” Hadley’s at my hip standing on tip toes with her hands on the oven door. She reaches her neck out as far as she can to see what’s going on.

I put my hand on her head and say, “OK, when this melts, we’re going to mix it with the flour then pat it down to make a crust.”

“OK.” Hadley says, and then begins to pick her nose.

“OH, Hadley, yuck! You can’t do that if you want to help me!”

“Sorry.” She says.

“It’s OK. Go to the bathroom and wash your hands.” I say. I move the butter around the pan so it won’t brown.

Hadley comes back and shows me her hands are damp from being washed.

“Thank you, Hadley.” I say, and hand her a spoon and a bowl. She puts them on the counter next to the stove where I am, then brings over a stool to stand on.

“I’m sorry I picked my nose, Mama.”

I pour a cup and a half of flour in her bowl, and then add the melted butter.

“Stir that together.” I tell her.

“OK.”

“The most important thing to know about this recipe is that nobody wants boogers in their Raspberry Crumb Bars.” I take the spoon and scrape the sides of the bowl.

Hadley shrugs her shoulders and says, “I might.”

On the radio I hear violins string out the first short, confident notes of “I Used to Rule the World” by Coldplay. The radio sends me all sorts of messages today. Just like motherhood.

New Toy

2011-06-20T08:01:00.000-04:00

This is a picture of the Polly Pocket Ice Cream Waterslide Pool....or something close to that title.

It's Hadley's new toy for getting 10 stickers. Why did she earn 10 stickers, you ask? Because she stayed in bed past 7am 10 times. We told her if she could do that, each morning she would get a sticker. When she got 10 stickers, we'd buy her a treat.

I don't know. It probably seems like too much to get your kid to sleep or just STAY IN BED until 7am. But I need some time to prepare for the creation that is four. Four is non-stop. Four talks A LOT. Four doesn't ever seem to run out of questions. There isn't strong enough coffee for me to drink to keep up with four.

So we bought Hadley a clock.

We showed her how to tell when it is 7. We put it right next to her bed. We started drilling her about four hours before she went to bed that she was not to come out of the bedroom until that clock read 7am.

"How can you tell it's 7, Hadley?"

"When the little hand is on 7 and the big hand is on 12."

"That's right. And when do you come out of the bedroom?"

"Seven."

"Exactly."

Monday morning, Hadley's in our room at 5:45am. A.M.!!!!!!

"Hadley!" I say. "Look at your clock! It's not seven yet!"

Hadley goes back to her room and a half an hour later she comes in carrying the clock.

"Momma, it's 7 o'clock."

"No it's not, Hadley."

"Well, my clock says 7. I think pink clocks are faster."

Anyway, she did it 10 times and we bought her a Polly Pocket Ice Cream Waterslide toy. On the way home from Target, I asked Hadley if she remembers why she has this toy.

"Yes, because I stayed in bed until 7 o'clock."

"That's right, and I really appreciate that."

"Thanks, Mama. But Mama? Can I tell you something?"

"Sure."

"I really don't like to sleep in. I don't want to miss anything. I don't know how much longer I can do this."

Swim Lessons

2011-06-17T15:34:00.000-04:00

Sometimes when something's hard,

it's best to do it with friends.

(P.S. Hadley pushed off and swam to her swim teacher in the last picture. Just in case anyone's concerned Harper dunked her.....which could've happened.)

What She Took With Her

2011-06-15T19:04:00.000-04:00

Throughout the year, when I would pick Hadley up from school, our conversations would go like this:
"Hi, Hadley! How was school?"

"Good."

"What'd ya do?"

"I can't remember."

Finally, after being asked this clearly way too many times, Hadley suggests, "Mamma, you always ask that question and I always tell you I don't remember. I think you should come up with something else to say."

Minutes later the conversation turns to boogers and poop, and I am sneaking looks at Hadley's folder on the way home to catch a glimpse of what went on while she was away from me.

So I don't know all that went on this year while Hadley was in school, and I'm fine with that. It seems as though part of learning about oneself consists of having some of one's own memories to wonder about. But it is part of who I am to mark things down as time goes by. It's why I write a blog. It's why I have all my planners from 1990.

Besides, if left to Hadley's devices, this is what would be "remembered" of her 2010-2011 school year.

Driving to Royal Crown Bakery for breakfast on the last day of school: "So Hadley, what do you remember about preschool this year?"

"I remember when I was 3 and I went to school with an orange dress with pink polka dots."

"I don't remember that dress."

"Right. You don't remember that dress because it was in my dream."

I kept most of Hadley's artwork from the school year, but the thing that I can't throw away is her carpool number. I know I made fun of it when I first got it, but it has become a badge for me. I was proud to be in line with the other parents dropping our children off and picking them up from school. It made me feel like I was a part of something, like we were all sharing a part of this parenting thing together.

I've started writing down little things that I remember on the sheet: the toys Hadley brought for show and tell, the songs we sang on the way to school, the story she and I read on the first day of school (Dotty by Erica Perl - a must read for all children and anyone who can't find their imagination), the day I hit a turtle on the way to school and Hadley said, "It's OK, Mama. He has a hard shell. I don't think you hurt him." I'll keep this along with Hadley's artwork so I don't forget.

I told Hadley I'd take her out to breakfast anywhere she wanted for the last day of school. She decided on the Royal Crown Bakery.

The thing you have to know about this place is that everything they make is delicious. The bagels are New York style bagels, the cannoli will have you saying, "Keep the cannoli" for the rest of your life, and the sandwiches are out of this world. The other thing you need to know is that the people behind the counter, scare me a little bit. They're nice, but they don't mess around.

"Whadya gettin'?" one of them will say and I'm never sure whether they're talking to me. I'm so afraid I won't answer in time and then I won't get my bagel or donut (or bagel AND donut, because they're THAT GOOD and I can't decide).

On the morning Hadley, Harper and I were there, a customer struck up a conversation with one of the ladies behind the counter. The customer told her that she looked very similar to another lady who worked there.

"YEA, THAT'S MY SISTER. (I'm typing in all caps to convey a sense of volume.) SHE'S SO LOUD. SHE'S ALWAYS LIKE, 'WHADYA WANT?'"

I started laughing and Hadley looked at me. She started laughing too. I don't think she was laughing at the same thing I was laughing at, but it was nice to be together at the Royal Crown Bakery sharing a laugh before she went to school.

Even if we remember the memory differently from one another. It was nice to be together.

How to Get Through a Maze According to Hadley

2011-06-13T07:31:00.001-04:00

Hadley is really into word searches, crossword puzzles, and mazes these days. One afternoon, while helping Tinker Bell get through a maze, she said, "Mama, if there's a line in the way, I just go through it."

Seems like excellent Monday morning advice to me.

Say W.H.A.T.?

2011-06-10T06:55:00.000-04:00

Here we are in a Jeep cruisin' on the beach looking for wild horses. You know, just your typical Thursday afternoon type of errand. The Tour was called W.H.A.T. and the first two letters stand for Wild Horses, but I can't remember what the A and T stand for. Are Tooting? No, that can't be it. Anyway, it was a really cool tour.

These guys are all over the place in this part of the Outer Banks. By the way, this is as OBX as you can get. There are no paved roads. It's all beach. And people live here. It's pretty much as Into the Wild as I'll ever get. The houses are gorgeous, but Mama needs a Target and a Starbucks.

The funniest part of the tour for me was the conversation between Jesse and our tour guide. Because we told him we weren't from North Carolina, he thought he'd fill us in on what it's like living in an area where there are a lot of hurricanes.

Tour Guide Guy: "Hurricanes don't effect us. We live in a bubble."

Jesse: "Oh yeah?"

Tour Guide Guy: "Yeah. The weather and where we are makes it so the hurricanes just can't get at us like in the other parts of OBX."

Poor Jesse. It was like watching that scene in Friends where Pheobe tries to convice Ross that maybe evolution isn't exactly what all his research says it is.

Ooooo! But we got some really great pictures!

Fun tour. I highly recommend it if you're ever in the Outer Banks.

Just Like We Do It

2011-06-08T20:14:00.000-04:00

It's really important to make sure your child eats healthy. Introduce fruits and vegetables early on so they'll become used to the taste of things like peas and carrots and watermelon. Sometimes you have to introduce a food to your bundle of joy 14,345 times before she will eat it. But it's so worth the nagging and screaming because you know you are doing the right thing and your daughter will totally thank you for it later.

I suppose it's OK to give them a treat every now and then. But be warned: things like chocolate and sugar can alter the behavior of your offspring.

It's also important that you set a good example and eat healthy, too.

Keep Me Floating Just For Awhile

2011-06-06T22:51:00.000-04:00

Here are my thoughts about being in my family:

I'm standing at an edge of the Atlantic Ocean digging my heels and toes into the pebbly sand as the undertoe tries to drag me in. I'm watching my brother boogie board along huge waves I haven't been close to in a long time. Geoff screams, "You gotta come in! It's awesome!" And I want to but behind me are Hadley and Harper.

They're flying a kite with my dad and I know they don't care if I go in, but I have this voice in my head that convinces me that now that I'm a mother I shouldn't have any fun. Well, fun, sure, but good for you stuff that makes you into a better person fun. Exercise. Writing. Prayer. Eating watermelon. It's good to enjoy these things, but throwing yourself into an oncoming wave twice your height? That's not appropriate.

Besides, yesterday somebody caught a stingray on the beach right around where I am standing.

But the undertoe is strong and I'm watching Geoff, my sister-in-law Kellee, my cousin Tara, her husband Pete, and their oldest son Cole dive into these foaming monsters with wild abandonment and laughing hysterically. I giggle at their laugther and lift my heels a little so that the water drags me in. Just a little. I can easily come out of it if that voice starts to get too strong and I have a sudden urge to cut up some watermelon for everyone.

Except I start to hop the waves as they come in and that gets me a little deeper into the ocean. Soon, I'm feet away from Kellee and Tara. The three of us are watching a wave tower over us when Kellee screams, "GUARD YOUR LOINS!!!!" She takes protective measures and jumps into the wave's crest. The wave slams into me and I'm flipped over unsure of where all my limbs are. I suppose I should be scared but Kellee's warning paired with getting totally beat up by a wave brings out a lovely carelessness in me and I can't stop laughing.

Geoff makes his way over and hands me a boogie board.

"You have to use this. It's so fun."

I take the board because if I don't it'll just ride the wave itself. There's no time for that silly voice in my head to tell me, "That's enough. You could get hurt. Besides, you're laughing too loud." Because what my brother is doing is so simple - he wants me to join in the fun. Stop dragging your heels, Callie, and get on the darn board.

It reminded me of something that happened between Hadley and Harper last summer in a music class they took. Harper stood next to me holding my hand with her head towards the ground the entire time while Hadley frolicked and sang with the other kids. One week, however, Harper had a slight smile on her face and began to wiggle a bit with the music. Hadley saw it, came out of the group, and grabbed Harper's hand. Just like Geoff, it wasn't an option. She knew Harper would have fun and there was no reason she needed to second guess herself about it. Hadley unclasped Harper's hand in mine, replaced it with hers, and brought Harper into the group. Harper stayed and sang and danced. And eventually, she let go of Hadley's hand and did it all by herself.

Before we knew it, Harper didn't want to leave. She wanted to stay in music class. She wanted everyone to stay in music class. Music class is the greatest!

All of Her

2011-05-23T21:00:00.000-04:00

A couple of weeks ago I sat down with Hadley's preschool teacher for a parent teacher conference. At the risk of sounding like an obnoxiously prideful parent, Hadley's doing awesome.

She loves school, loves her classmates, has gone beyond meeting all the benchmarks, etc, etc. The teacher says to me, "It's easy to see why she's so successful. You're so literary, and I'm sure that rubs off on her." Please. This has nothing to do with me. This kind of smart is all Jesse. You see, Jesse and Hadley are what I like to call "quick smart." There is nothing quick about me unless it involves running from a wasp or dog. But Hadley and Jesse process things quickly, and once they have, they move on. 1+1? 2. Done. Moving on. Hurricanes? They're bad. Take cover. Moving on.

Hadley is also very literal, and this makes it hard for her to understand why one needs or would want to use one's imagination. Take today for example. Hadley was playing with paper doll princesses. These princesses were all trying to get to a ball of some sort and Hadley wanted to help them get there. She told me her dilemma and I said, "Why don't you ask Tinkerbell if she can help?" So Hadley walks over to find Tinkerbell and here's what happened (keep in mind this is all Hadley talking):

Hadley: Tinkerbell? Will you help Cinderella, Bella, and Snow White get to the ball?

Tinkerbell: What?

Hadley: We need your help. Cinderella, Bella, and Snow White need pixie dust to get to the ball. Do you have pixie dust?

Tinkerbell: Yea, I have pixie dust.

Hadley: OK, can you share some with the princesses so they can get to the ball?

Tinkerbell: Well, I'd love to but I can't.

Hadley: Why not?

Tinkerbell: Because I live in a different story.

And that was the end of that.

Hadley also likes to know why things are the way they are. This is also from Jesse. Yesterday the two of them were discussing the different kinds of ladybugs: what they eat, what color their spots are, and why they can't live very long in buildings (we had one in our building that clearly wasn't going anywhere if you know what I mean). Hadley's need to understand the way things work clashes with my need for her to JUST DO WHAT I SAY on a daily basis. She wants to know why I want her to not do something and I want her to just stop doing what she's doing. It makes it so that I feel like I'm in the middle of a "Who's on First" kind of conversation.

Here's what happened today:

Hadley (who's in the bathroom): Mom!!!!!! I'm doooooonnnne!

I walk into the bathroom to find Hadley facing the opposite direction that society expects one to sit when one sits on a toilet.

Me: OH, HADLEY! What are you doing?

Hadley: I'm sitting this way.

Me: WHY?!?!?!

Hadley: Why not?

Me: Hadley, you can never, ever sit like that.

Hadley: Why? What will happen?

Me (after a long pause): I don't know. Just don't ever sit like that again.

It's a wonder I haven't been on any talk shows to share my outstanding parenting skills, folks.

You know what though? I do so enjoy Hadley's company. From the moment she was born, she's shown me that there is this other way to see the world, and while I struggle to keep up with her, I'm thankful she wants me to come along for the ride. The other day when I picked her up from preschool she told me that one of the teachers who put her in the car called her "Holly."

I said, "That's OK, people used to call me by the wrong name all the time."

"They did that when you were a little girl?"

"Yes."

"I should've been there to help you."

That would've been nice, Hadley. That would've been nice.

At the Park

2011-05-20T07:50:00.000-04:00

Last week at this time you didn't hear me saying, "Geez! The sun's been out for DAYS! When is it going to rain again?" And here I am on what feels like the 2,345th day of rain, grumbling about where the sun went. So since it's raining again today I will post some pictures of a day when the sun was shining and we went to a new park and enjoyed warm shoulders and the smell of Coppertone on our skin.

We met up with other kids that the girls love to play with.

Trying to hang with the big kids....

She did it!

We were at the park all morning last week, playing with the kids and talking to other moms. It was a nice morning. We all go to the same church, but it's nice to see these people during the week because I don't get a chance to talk to them on Sundays. I'm sure I've said this before, but I'm a huge fan of letting my kids run the crazies out while I can talk to adults. It's always a win-win. This morning was an example of that.

My favorite part of the day, though, was when Harper and Hadley followed each other over to a part of the park where nobody was and began playing together. I don't think it was because they weren't having fun with the other kids, or that they chose to only be together. I like to think that while they love the company of good friends, it's each other they're most comfortable with.

I'm glad they like hanging out with each other. I hope it's always that way. I hope that they find joy in the rainy days, too. Because there's always markers and puzzles to play with, but it's way more fun to do these things together.

Harper's asking Hadley to draw Captain Hook, Mr. Smee (is that his name?) and Co. Hadley obliges.

Harper is working on a city.

Maybe the sun will stay out today. Either way, I think we'll come up with something to do.

A Letter to the Wasps - The Insect, Not The Presbyterians

2011-05-16T21:09:00.000-04:00

Dear Wasps,

It's been 5 years since you've stayed in our home and I have had enough. I'm not a reasonable person, especially when it comes to you. You scare me. What's more, I think you know you scare me. I think you guys hideout wherever you are in our home and drink cheap honey until I'm all alone. You wait until I sit down next to a draft of an essay or a post I want to work on while the girls are asleep. You'll snicker at me because I get distracted by Hadley's doodles on my essay, or Harper's blue scribbles over a sentence I have been struggling with. You'll watch with glee as I try and shake the lump that seems to be left in my stomach and chest when my girls aren't clunking toys on the ground, or pitter pattering their feet on the floor. And just when I'm starting to get used to the empty silence that's filled our home you thump against my window. You follow it up with a "buzz" which I believe is you laughing even though you know you're going to die. I think you figure if you're going to get smooshed, you may as well have it done by a crazy lady who is half shrieking, half gasping for breath dancing around the living room swearing while she looks for a shoe to kill you with.

I'll be darned if you teach me some kind of lesson, though. Usually just one of you shows up in the afternoons, but that Monday when two of you showed up and one of you was flying; that just about did me in. I appreciate that you're at least hanging out on our windows so it makes it easy for me to end you. But flying? C'mon guys.

So when I left the house the following day to drop Hadley off at school, I decided I wasn't going back until Jesse came home. It sounds drastic, I know. But like I said, I'm not a reasonable person. I'm also melodramatic. However, I wasn't expecting to learn some kind of lesson. I just wanted a break from having the creepies in my house.

Here's what happened, though. Harper and I spent the morning walking around the Washingtonian Center.

We went to the park. We had lunch at the Corner Bakery and drew pictures while we waited for our food.

(I didn't draw that girl holding the flower.)
(I did, however, draw this:)

And while Harper slept in the car, I drove around our neighborhood exploring streets I hadn't noticed before.

Look, wasps, I like my house. I like how we have it set up. I like what goes on in it. I like that despite the fact I sometimes feel inadequate because we don't have a yard for the girls to play in, or that they have to share a bedroom, that they are happy. But I wasn't expecting to dwell on this as I drove around our 'burb eating a raspberry tart and sipping a coffee, and I certainly wasn't expecting to realize that not only do I like our home, but that after four and a half years of being a mother, I am beginning to feel comfortable with my surroundings. I'm sorry it took wild beasts to show me that.

I'm also sorry I had to call maintenance and tell them to come and take care of you once and for all. I know you thought they'd never find you, because for almost 5 years they haven't. But I've been watching, and I narrowed it down, you sneaky sneakersons. Sure enough, after two hours of looking around and trying to convince me that there were no wasps in my home, maintenance found your nest in our fireplace.

Don't mess with me, wasps. I know I come across as meek, or shy or whatever. I know I cry easily. And I'm still terrified of you. It took me almost three weeks to write this post because every time I sit down to finish it I think I can see one of you crawling nearby. What I'm saying is that it might take me awhile to figure things out, but I'll do it. And in the end, I usually get my way.

Sincerely,

Callie

PS - We are always watching.

You Have to Suffer for Beauty

2011-05-12T06:47:00.000-04:00

Last week I took Harper to get her haircut. This is not an easy task. Where Hadley might be hesitant about the whole experience, Harper is flat out beligerent. I'm talking screaming, hitting the lady who is supposed to cut her hair, arching her back so that you can't put her in the chair, and the list goes on. I tried to take the girls when I think no other kids will be there so it's not horrifying for innocent bystanders. And then I just stopped going at all because I don't think you can pay someone enough for trying to do a service when the customer is acting like someone on Jerry Springer.

But last week is was time so I told Harper when she woke up that after we dropped Hadley off at school, we were going to take her to get her haircut. She was all for it until we walked into the shop and then the moaning and complaining started. I started to get the sweats and began wondering what I could use to sedate my daughter, and that's when the miracle happened.

First, the lady who cut her hair gave her a BLUE smock to put on. Blue is for Harper what that first cup of coffee is for me. Then, the lady asked Harper if she wanted a lollipop while she cut her hair.

"Yea, a BLUE lollipop." Harper demands. That's my girl. She's just going to go ahead and let people know what she wants at all times.

I found the LAST BLUE lollipop in the treat basket.

Finally, the lady asked Harper what TV show she liked to watch and Harper said, "I like to watch Diego and the Dinosaurs." We have the book and we have to read it every single night. It's one of the first things Harper asks for when she wakes up in the morning. She reads is all day long. We recently got the DVD so now the story really comes alive.

"I think we have that one." the lady says and seconds later we hear the theme song and see Diego swinging on a rope with Baby Jaguar by his side.

No tantrums, Harps. You want for nothing.

Note the toy in her left hand. It's BLUE. (And I guess the smock isn't technically blue, but it worked for Harper.)

Look at that face. Does she know how to work the camera or what?

All Kinds of Awesome

2011-05-09T14:46:00.000-04:00

Sunday morning I woke up to this:

Yellow streamers (because that's my favorite color) decorated the playroom with lots of presents on the table.

And one very proud kiddo.

It was a nice surprise, but I should've known better to think that this is where it would end. I got pancakes and bacon for breakfast, and then, as we were cleaning up for afterwords, Jesse says, "Well, we can go to church or take a trip to Harper's Ferry."

We didn't make it to church yesterday.

Egg Roll 2011

2011-05-05T21:24:00.000-04:00

I'm a week late in writing about our trip to the White House for the Easter Egg Roll, but I have a lot on my plate right now. There's all this ice-cream in our freezer and somebody thought it'd be a good idea to buy the largest tub of rainbow sprinkles to go with it. It takes time to create the perfect ice-cream sprinkle sundae, and then eat it. Plus, I have the huge stress of choosing which flip flops I will wear each day. I can't just be thinking about entering the White House lawn to this:

Oh, wait. Yes, I can. Did you catch the cheerleaders? No? That's OK because I did:

We were just outside of the lawn when we heard these guys start to play. One year when I was in high school the administration decided to play music through the intercom system during passing periods. It would play for 4 minutes and then it'd shut off so everyone knew we had 1 minute to get to class. In my opinion, this was the coolest thing the administration ever did (except for maybe allowing us to chew gum in class). The problem was, everyone was dancing and singing in the hallways for the duration of the passing period, and then when you heard it shut off, we all ran like mad men to try and get to class. There was also a lot of swearing. (Not from me, Mom and Dad. I never swear. Except for that one time I said "butt" in first grade. I've been on the straight and narrow ever since.)

The morning we walked onto the White House's front lawn, I was reminded of an afternoon when the school was playing "Everyday People" by Arrested Development. I was in a huge crowd, and I believe every single person was singing that song, dancing, and walking in time to it. It's one of my favorite memories of high school. Walking into the Egg Roll Monday morning was a lot like that. There were parents holding hands with their kids, marching along to the beat. We were nodding our heads and shaking our hips. Some of us had our hands in the air. Some of us were told to cut it out by their four year old daughters. It's all good, we need people like Hadley because she's going to BE the administration one day. And Harper? Well, I think Harper will be spending lots of time in the principal's office.

Here they are after they pulled me away from the band.

And then this egg came up to us and asked if we wanted to take a picture with it.

We also stalked some creature we thought was Cookie Monster, but turns out it wasn't. I hate when that happens.

Hadley's all, "C'mon Harper! Get in here!" Harper's like, "Uhhhhh, I don't think so, Hadwee. You go on and enjoy whatever that is. I'm staying back here."

Although, Harper lost her mind when we saw these guys:

Here is what Hadley looked like when she first saw Elmo:

Whatever, dude.

Ohmygosh!Ohmygosh!It'sELMO!It'sELMO!ELMO!ELMO!ELMO!!!!!!!!!!!!

I'd like to contribute that seeing Maria was a lot of fun. She was a buddy of mine along with all the Sesame Street gang growing up, and I was equally thankful for her contribution to keeping Hadley entertained while I was in my first trimester with Harper.

I'd also like to say that Elmo is hilarious live. On TV? Not so much. But he was a riot that morning.

Awww, group shot.

After story time with Elmo and Maria, it was time to do a little yoga. Hadley LOVED this.

Harper was a little more suspicious, but she joined in, too.

George Washington got into it, too.

A quick stop to say "Hey!" to ol' CB:

And then it was off to the Egg Hunt.

When Harper heard we were going to the White House she said, "Awwww! I don't want to go to the White House again!" What two year old has the opportunity to say that? Hadley calmed her down and told her this: "Harper, Bock Obama lives there! He's the Present! And you get to put all your stuff on a table and somebody looks at it and then gives it back!" Come on, Harper. What could be more fun then going to Present Bock Obama's house, and walking through security? This is the stuff memories are made of!

Chip Cheerio....or something like that

2011-05-02T17:23:00.000-04:00

Here are some comments Hadley made while watching a bit of the Royal Wedding.
Yes, she is in her ballet attire. No, I do not know why.

-When she saw the British guards (those guys with the tall, fuzzy black hats?) she said, "I'm pretty sure those are nutcrackers."

-When she saw William and Catherine she said, "I don't want the prince and princess to speak."
"Why not?" I asked.
"Because I don't know them."

-I pointed out the Queen to Hadley and said, "Look, Hadley! There's the Queen!" She gasped in horror and said, "Is she going to ruin them?"
That's enough Disney, I think.

Wild and Precious Life

2011-04-29T12:27:00.002-04:00

This week:

*I had to buy clothes for Hadley in the little girls section and not the baby/toddler section.

*While in the carpool line waiting to pick her up from school, I spotted Hadley waving, and I began to wave back until I realized she was waving goodbye to her friend.

Thursday:

*Harper wakes up and I take her out of the crib to change her diaper. Except, we have no diapers. None. Also, it's pouring down rain and so far there have been two tornado warnings. All we have are Splashers. Do you know what Splashers are? They go under bathing suits. I learned yesterday that Splashers may as well be cotton underpants because that's how much they absorb.

*The severe weather was really stressing me out. I was nervous about taking Hadley to school with tornado warnings, severe thunderstorms and flash flood warnings. It's hard to enjoy my new interest in country music when all that is going on.

But then this happened:

For about 3 minutes it stopped raining. This happened just as Hadley, Harper, and I were walking outside to go to school. We walked down the stairs and Hadley took one look at our sidewalk and declared, "Today is a PINK DAY!"

Last night in the Bible Study that I go to we talked about these words: agape, content, and joy. I said that I have a hard time accepting the idea of agape - that no matter what I do God loves me. And being content is certainly an exercise for me. But joy? Joy seems to be present all the time, especially at times when I'm not expecting it. I shared this story about the girls running in the pink pedals and everything that led up to it. One lady said, "That's what agape is like: God holds the camera so you can dance in the petals."

Spring Break '11

2011-04-24T17:06:00.000-04:00

I didn't mention to Hadley that she would be on Spring Break this past week because I didn't think it would be a big deal. Apparently that was a foolish mistake on my part. She was quite disappointed when she was told she wouldn't be able to go to school due to Spring Break. The whole way home from school she whined, "Today was my last day. I'll never see my friends again."

Oh, the drama.

We seemed to carry on despite the devestation of not being able to go to school. We went to the park with the GP's from OP.

We had a playdate.

The girls are playing a game called "Bubble Gum." It goes like this: You put your feet together (see above picture) and say "Bubble gum, bubble gum in a dish. How many pieces do you wish?" And then someone says a number. The number could be 4 or 55,000. It doesn't seem to matter. After you say the number you take one foot out of the way (note Harper's position).

That's it. Seems appropriate for girls in the 2 - 4 age range. They have attention spans of gnats.

Goofy and Bear wanted to get out too, so we took them to 2 Amy's for pizza. I think they had a good time.

And despite the fun filled week we had, school was just too much to resist, so Hadley took matters into her own hands and set up shop at home. A home school, if you will.

I think Hadley will be thrilled to go back to school this week, although, it makes me weary for what will happen when she learns about summer break. It could be a long three months.

I'm More Atari

2011-04-19T19:13:00.000-04:00

The other day, Hadley and I got into an argument over the lyrics to "Forget You."

She won.

Mama Loves

2011-04-13T20:53:00.000-04:00

Working on our letters together.

Working out together.

Witnessing her first homemade P,B, and J.

Having a snack at Whole Foods.

Or Panera.

Going out to dinner with Jesse and finishing a few sentences, and then getting back in the car and seeing the carseats.

Falling asleep before the story ends.

A Post According to Hadley

2011-04-12T06:46:00.000-04:00

On Saturday my parents took me and Harper to see The White House.

My Grandma and Grandpa and Aunt Mallory came too.

You might be able to tell from the above pictures that Harper and I really didn't care about being at the White House. What we wanted was one of these:

My dad and I ordered them the night before. I got to pick out a chocolate one with vanilla frosting and lots of sprinkles. When you're four, and you have the choice between eating a cupcake or going to the White House, you want the cupcake.

Last year my mom took me to the White House, and at least this person was there too:

Not this year though. This year, we were only here to see the grass, I guess.

And then this guy walked through and everyone went nuts but I didn't see what the big deal was.

You're probably thinking the same thing I am: What guy? My dad tried to get a picture of him but he was moving pretty fast and the crowd was going crazy so it was pretty hectic. (I might be four, but I have been known to use the word "hectic" before. I can also use "inappropriate" in a sentence. For example "It is inappropriate to pick your nose at school or in front of your mother.") Anyway, it's the President.

Did you know that there's a park on the White House Lawn? Did you know I was within inches of it and my parents wouldn't let me play on it? What's the point of having a park if you can't play on it? I was not happy about this little field trip we were on.

Harper wasn't too keen on being here either.

My parents kept talking about how this would be a great place to take a Christmas picture, but at that point I had had it. I wanted my cupcake!

I remembered, though, something my Uncle Geoff did when he was a little boy and thought perhaps I could give this tactic a try. (I also use the word "perhaps" all the time. As in, "Perhaps you could pick your nose if no one is looking.") You see, he told me once that if you really want your parents to take you where you need to go, when they want to take a family picture, you just frown and maybe even whine a little bit, thus making the experience not so fun for people. You may have it documented for years, but you'll get to your baseball game, or cupcake, depending on your needs at the moment.

So that's what I did.

Not too impressive? How 'bout this next one?

Merry Christmas, Everyone!

Meeting Baby Otto

2011-04-03T21:14:00.000-04:00

On Saturday we went to Baltimore to meet this little guy:

This is Otto. He is the son of our friends Tim and Angela, and he is so, so sweet.

The girls were smitten.

Hadley even got to hold him.

Otto's thinking, "I dunno. I heard your Mommy's crazy. I'm not sure I want you holding me."

To which Hadley replies, "Nah, you can totally trust me."

Seeing the newness of Otto and the newness of Tim and Angela's parenthood makes it easy to remember what life was like four and half years ago.

Or two and a half years ago.

It's quite something to know someone since she was first married in 2000 and to watch her in her first days as a mother eleven years later. She's a pro already. At one point during the evening, Otto was letting everyone know he wasn't too happy about his circumstances. Angela picked him up and their faces were centimeters away from each other, and he immediately calmed down. I don't know if she realized what happened; I'm pretty sure in those early days of motherhood I would not have been able to recognize it either. So it was a treat for me to watch it last night. Which makes me think this: If there is any advice that you can give a new mom, tell them that their son or daughter knows her voice. That's what matters.

The rest of it is a crap shoot.

Of Lists and the Easter Story

2011-03-29T15:15:00.000-04:00

Jesse was out of town last weekend because his grandmother of 98 years passed away. The girls in our family stayed home, and when I asked Hadley what she wanted to do on Saturday and Sunday she suggested we make a LIST of all the activities we could do. I, in turn, had one of those moments similar to parents sitting in bleachers at a sporting event watching their kid do whatever she does to gain a point: I said, "THAT'S MY GIRL!" and did a little dance.

So over homemade chocolate cookies the size of our heads and glasses of milk, the girls and I made a list of things to do over the weekend.

One of the items on our list was: "watch 'think about easter shows' on Nick Jr." To this, I asked Hadley what she thought Easter was all about.

"Easter eggs and flowers."

I should not have entered this conversation without a full script of what I would say. Suddenly Jesus and my two religion profs at Calvin were sitting around our table as well and I could hear them saying, "Easter eggs and flowers, huh? Whadya say to that, Callie? Bet you wish you hadn't skipped out on a few of those classes to go to Crisan's Coffeehouse. Hope that Nutty Irishman drink was worth it."

Here's what I told Hadley: "Actually, Easter is about Jesus."

"Jesus? I thought that was Christmas."

"Well, yea, it is, but at Easter we celebrate Jesus too."

"He has another birthday?"

"Sort of. Easter is more about Jesus giving us a chance to be in Heaven with Him."

"Heaven? Aren't you dead when you are in Heaven?"

"Yes." (Jesus and my religion profs have now slammed their heads on our dining table.)

"I don't wanna die! I wanna stay here!"

"I know, I don't want to die either."

"What about Goofy? I don't want to leave Goofy!"

"Hadley, I think Goofy can go to Heaven too." I have to say that despite this complete failure of a conversation, I wasn't too disappointed in myself to note that GOOFY is who she's concerned about leaving behind. Um, hellooooo? What about the woman who GAVE YOU LIFE?

Just sayin'.

Well, that was the end of that conversation. We finished our chocolate chip cookies and went on to something else. The next morning, we made Easter eggs.

We also decorated paper Easter eggs with stickers of the pastel variety.

And we made heart shaped sugar cookies for a playdate a couple days later.

So we got a lot accomplished over the weekend. Everything was crossed off our list. However, that conversation between me and Hadley lingered and I was feeling pretty bad about the way I had handled it. Then on Monday afternoon Hadley and I were playing "The Green Eggs and Ham" game and Hadley asked me if I'd ever had green eggs and ham.

"Actually, I have had green eggs and ham."

"You did?"

"Yup. I ate them one time."

"When?"

"When I was a teacher. Did you know I used to be a teacher?"

"No." (Hadley's now looking at me like I might look at Jennifer Aniston if I'd met her.)

"It's true. I used to teach, and when I was a teacher I had a great friend named Miss Steen. She was a Kindergarten teacher and her class was reading Green Eggs and Ham. Well, her students wanted to try green eggs and ham so she made them for her class. They liked them so much they wanted all the teachers in the school to try them, so we did."

"You really tried them?"

"Yea! But I was scared. I don't usually like my ham and eggs green. But Miss Steen was such a good friend so I tried them. I don't think I would have if someone else had asked me to."

"Was she your best friend?"

"I liked her as much as you like Maya."

Hadley smiles and says, "I would probably try green eggs and ham for Maya."

Then Hadley asks me to tell her another story. She wanted to hear about her "getting born" story. So I tell her what I know is her favorite part of October 23, 2006. I tell her how she cried and cried until Jesse came over to her while she was being cleaned up and said, "It's OK, Hadley. Daddy's here." And then there was this tangible silence. People say that babies can hear voices while in the womb, but feeling this truth is completely different then reading it in What to Expect When You're Expecting.

I say, "You knew Daddy's voice, and you stopped crying." Hadley smiles knowingly. If there ever was a Jesse's girl, it is Hadley. They are two peas in a pod.

I like lists for several reasons. I like the act of writing with a certain type of pen on a certain type of paper. I like the clarity my mind has when I begin naming tasks to be completed. Someone asked me once how I relax and I told him, "I make lists."

But part of this love of list making has grown from the fact that I am slow to process things. I don't like to be caught off guard, and so I use a list to help myself with the stuttering or the fumbling I might do when I don't know the plan.

The trouble is, I never wrote "Talk to Hadley about Easter" on my list. I haven't been praying for wisdom on this topic. I don't look for books on the subject. But sitting with Hadley and talking about my good friend Rachel, and the day Hadley was born I started to wonder maybe that's a little what Easter is about. That despite my faults, God showed me and Hadley grace anyway. Sure, Hadley and I didn't talk about sin and death, and the resurrection. We discussed friendship and birth, and green food. And maybe I'm just making myself feel better, but I'd like to think Jesus might've met Hadley where she was that afternoon as she thought about her own friendships, her relationship with her dad, her own story.

Or maybe I need to write Nick Jr and request some "Think about Easter" shows.

A Theme

2011-03-24T06:47:00.000-04:00

I taught in about four schools, and in one of them I was sort of allowed to wear flip flops. I'm still not sure if I could or not, but nobody told me I couldn't so I did. I would wear them the minute spring had the potential of showing itself in South Bend. That doesn't necessarily mean it would be warm enough to wear them, it simply means that spring should be up and running around, so I would wear flip flops. A few people at this school would tell me I was "pushing spring." Well, sometimes spring needs to be pushed.

And although it is threatening to snow this weekend, the girls and I have all sported our spring outerwear the last several days. The flip flops have returned, and Hadley and Harper have new "water shoes." This year, they're sporting glittery princess and Hello Kitty shoes for the pool and beach (they're currently wearing them with socks - super cool).

With the warmer weather, the girls and I have been able to get out a lot more. It's much easier to get outside when you don't have to bundle up.

I took all these pictures from the same spot - a park bench. This is the first time I was able to sit down at a park while the kids played. A lovely surprise with the upcoming season - the girls have begun to play together and I can watch the show they put on while the sun hits my shoulders and I'm sitting on a bench. I can watch them and do a little daydreaming. It's nice to daydream. I highly recommend it.

The other thing we've been doing lately is going to the library and filling up the girls backpacks with books, then going across the street to Starbucks to read and maybe color a bit.

I took this picture because I realized the three of us were all doing our own thing - reading our books, drinking our drinks, coloring our pictures - it was so nice.

I like the company of Hadley and Harper. I like who they are, and who they are becoming. Motherhood sometimes gets clouded by tasks like making sure they've brushed their teeth, or that they aren't hitting one another and I don't get to appreciate their company all the time. I think I accept that. I know these things are a part of the ballgame. It's just nice to be in their presence without having to do much besides hang out with them.

Hooray for a new season!

"I Want to Keep Aunt Shani"

2011-03-22T10:57:00.000-04:00

Over the weekend we had a visit from Aunt Shani and the girls couldn't have had more fun.

We went to the zoo.

In the above picture, I'm trying to point out to Hadley and Harper how nicely the lion cubs are playing while the Mom and Dad lions take a nap. Don't want to pass up a teachable moment.

We also went to Brookside Gardens to run around a bit.

And then we went to Comet Ping Pong for dinner. DC people with young kids, this is the place to go. Great pizza, and the kids can play ping pong. It's a win-win.

My only minor complaint was that the bathroom was really hard to find. Like "Platform Nine and Three Quarters" hard to find.

Do you see it? Hadley's facing the door. It can be scary going to a restaurant with a 4 year old and not knowing where the bathroom is. But we know now, and knowing's half the battle.

My other complaint? Bear got a little out of hand. It started with pizza.

Then he wanted beer.

C'mon Bear, control yourself.

The next thing you know, he's up on the ping pong table dancing to "Forget You."

That's when we knew it was time to go.

We were glad to have Aunt Shani visit us for the weekend, and when it was time to say goodbye Harper said, "Don't want to say goodbye. I want to keep Aunt Shani." It's always nice to get a mildly threatening compliment from Harper. You know you've won her over when she talks about holding you hostage.

A Limerick

2011-03-20T20:07:00.000-04:00

For St. Patrick's Day Hadley wore green to school.

I wanted Harper to wear green too, but she decided she's too cool.

While Hadley did some St. Patrick's Day art,
Harper and I went to the park.

We met up with some fabulous ladies
and Harper and I got to hold some of their very cute babies.

All was well on this St. Patrick's Day
What is a limerick, anyway?

Of Motherhood and The Karate Kid

2011-03-15T08:33:00.003-04:00

I majored in Education at Calvin when I was there. The first education course you take, EDUC 301-303, was rumored to be the course where "they weed you out." Always the positive thinker, I spent most of my time in that class waiting for someone to pick me up by a hook or something and place me somewhere else.

I made it through the class, and even earned a grade I was not used to seeing during my school years. However, what haunts me to this day was a lesson I learned while taking the class. I think it was probably one of the worst lesson I learned, and it's one that I don't accept well even today.

The teacher assigned us a section of a chapter we were studying to present to the rest of the class. We were to give a short lecture on the section we were assigned, plan a couple of activities to reinforce the concepts introduced (as well as show our mastery in doing things like cooperative learning, etc.), and have some type of visual aide to help with the lesson.

I sat in class the day of my presentation ready to go. I think it's important at this point to understand that not only did I have all the requirements, I was also going to show a clip from The Karate Kid - because there is so much to learn from the climatic "put him in a body bag!" scene.

Everything was going well until the girl before me got up and started giving my presentation. And then things got worse when I looked at my assignment and saw that I had read it wrong. I was supposed to prepare different pages.

Here's what I do in these situations - because they happen a lot - I cry. I start to cry and I get excused from class. It happened in 5th grade once when I was overwhelmed with all the work I had to do. I cried, and the teacher excused me from class. I got to go to the bathroom and hang out with a friend for a bit. I got out of an afternoon of 8th grade English doing the same thing. Don't get me wrong, the tears are genuine. It's just a bonus that I happen to get to leave when they start rolling.

So I started to cry. Mostly because I didn't know if I was going to be able to show my Karate Kid clip, but I was stressed out too. At a break in the class, my professor took me into the bathroom (See? Things are going as planned), walked me to the sink and said, "Splash some water on your face and calm down."

I didn't like where this was going.

She put her hands on my shoulders and said, "This sort of thing is going to happen to you all the time when you're a teacher, and you're just going to have to roll with it."

So...what you're telling me is I need to improvise? I don't like that word. At all.

Then she said this, "It's not what happens to you, Callie. It's how you handle what happens to you."

I just nodded but what I wanted to say was, "How 'bout YOU handle what happens to me, seeing as you're the teacher and all, and tell me I don't have to re-do this assignment?"

She told me I had a day to prepare the correct lesson and then left the bathroom.

Thirteen years later that story makes me equally angry and thankful at the same time. I really wanted her to tell me that what I did was enough and that she would just let this one pass. But she treated me like a capable student instead. I don't know if she thought I could fix this problem or not, but it wasn't for her to decide that.

And of course she was right, but not just in regards to this sort of thing happening in teaching. This lesson holds true in motherhood, too. Particularly the last 8 days as the four of us have been fighting the Worst Flu Known To Man (that's the scientific name for it). "It's not what happens to you, it's how you handle what happens to you." So here's how it was handled:

It started with Harper. We were in Raleigh over the weekend, and in the middle of the night she threw up three times. The rest of our time there, she wasn't acting terribly sick, but nothing was staying in, if you know what I mean. Harper was easy. She pretty much sleeps it off. I'm thankful for that.
I got it next. I don't handle throwing up. I deny it's going to happen until the very last second. This strategy proved to work well for most of my life, however, I did learn that it isn't the one to implement when you're driving on 270 and have to pull over three lanes of traffic IMMEDIATELY to get to the side of the road. But I like drama. So if I'm going to throw up, why not put on a show for the greater Washington DC area?
Then it was Jesse's turn. You wouldn't even know he was sick. He's so polite about it. I think it helps to be rational in these sorts of situations.

Then we have this girl. Apparently, when you turn 4, you also turn everything into a competition. So on Wednesday night Hadley is throwing up like a champ and says, "I think it's always going to be like this." I tell her that it won't, and that Harper got it a few days ago but she is much better now and that she will be better soon, too. Hadley says, "So I got this last and Harper got it first? That means Harper wins." And because I don't want to disappoint her I say, "Well, you threw up more so you've got that." That seemed to make her feel better.

I gave the correct presentation the next day in my class, and I think I did alright. I'm not kidding, though, when I say this was one of the worst lessons I have learned. I'm a hot mess when things don't go the way I planned them. And while it would behoove everyone if I just accepted the fact that I'll be in these sorts of situations for the rest of my life, I don't believe I will ever come to terms with this fact.

Then again, things didn't go the way Daniel LaRusso planned either, and look what he was able to do:

"It's French for 'Hello'!"

2011-03-03T14:45:00.001-05:00

This thing has happened to me where I'll be in the middle of saying something and then I just stop talking. It usually happens when I'm talking to Jesse and there are 4,567 other things going on at the same time. I'll start to say something, and then a few minutes later he'll say, "You never finished what you were saying. What were you going to tell me?" And I'll look at him blankly and say, "I have no idea."

I believe this is due to the fact that my attention span is now that of tse tse fly. I think the cause of this has to do with conversations like the following ones:

"Mom, can you put my elbows in my sleeves?"
"What?"
"I need my elbows in. my. sleeves."
"Why?"
"I'm going to play slooter tag."
And then, because I have no more brain cells, I go ahead and put Hadley's elbows in her sleeves.

Here's another one:
"Mom, I have to tell you something."
"OK."
"I think I like Grandma and Grandpa better than you. But I want you to know that I still really care about you and Daddy."
"That's fine, Hadley. Grandparents are different then parents. I can understand why you might like them better than us."
"Right. Well, also, sometimes when I do something bad, I hide."
I'm not sure if Hadley thought that telling me the first thing was going to soften me up for the second thing or what, but I just said, "OK" to her confession of whatever it is that she did. I have yet to find out. Hopefully the thing that she did isn't growing somewhere in our house.

Hadley's mission in life currently is to try and use the words "poop" and "pee" in as many sentences as possible. I'm pretty sure she can't say them at school, and the mornings I'm trying to get her ready to go are the ones where these words are used profusely. It's as though she's trying to rid herself of them so they don't slip out while she's talking to her friends or teachers. But she's tricky about using them. Take this morning, for instance. She walks into the living room and says, "Peepoo, Mommy!"
"What?"
"It's French for 'Hello!'"

The real proof that I've completely lost my mind, is loud and clear in this conversation between me, Hadley, and Harper. You might want to put that cup of coffee or cookie down before proceeding.

Hadley took out a piece of paper and told me she was going to draw a picture.
"That's great, Hadley. What are you going to draw a picture of?" (Big mistake, Callie. Stop at "That's great, and just carry on with whatever you were doing.)
"I'm going to draw a picture of poop." (OK, so you've fallen in the trap. Just say, "No, Hadley, you can't draw that." You're the mother. JUST. SAY. NO.)
"Hadley, that's so gross."
"I'm gonna draw it." Hadley's giggling now.
"Seriously, that's disgusting."
"I'm getting out a brown crayon!" At this point, Harper runs over to see what's so funny. When she realizes what Hadley's doing, she laughs, and then begins to make tooting noises. This makes Hadley mad, and she tells Harper to stop it. Telling Harper to stop anything apparently means, "Go ahead, Harper! Keep on doing whatever it is that you're doing." Harper continues, but can barely get any sound out because she's laughing so hard. This makes Hadley angrier.
"Harper, STOP IT! I mean it!"
And me? Here's the what I say, "Hadley? You just spent the last 10 minutes trying to draw poop. And now you're mad at Harper because she's making tooting noises? IF SHE WANTS TO MAKE TOOTING NOISES SHE CAN!"

And that is why I can no longer carry on a conversation with other adults. Although, at least I'm learning a little French.

Birthday Bash

2011-03-01T07:14:00.000-05:00

I forgot to put this picture in yesterday's post:

It's the best picture of all, if you ask me. Hadley decided the movie Jesse was watching, An Inconvenient Truth, looked interesting so she sat down next to him and watched it.

And since I started with a picture of Jesse (even though it's of the back of his head), I'll continue as him as the subject since yesterday we celebrated his birthday.

That was one of the cards Hadley made for him. The other one was in an envelope taped together so well it took awhile to open. Hadley likes tape. A lot.

We met Jesse in Rockville at BW3s for dinner.

Sorry for the way the pictures are. I can't flip them. Oh, but hey! Maybe you could just flip your computer for a second!

And then things got really wild.

I truly worry for Harper when she gets to high school. She is going to be the kid who will want to "one up" everybody.

After dinner we went home to open presents.
Not before walking away with balloons, however.

As we were driving home, Hadley told Jesse that he needed to walk slowly up the stairs so we could run ahead of him, get in the house, and surprise him. She'd been working on that plan all day. It seems I need to help her understand the idea behind "surprise."

Anyway, he had lots of help opening presents.

Everything went swimmingly until one of the balloons we brought home made its way up to the ceiling. Here's Harper trying to get at it

Harper was on her way to get something bigger - like maybe her dresser - so I stopped it before things got out of hand.

Reminds Me Of Summer

2011-02-28T06:50:00.000-05:00

Yesterday was one of the first days I didn't wake up and grab my slippers the minute my feet hit the floor. Spring's a-comin' and we are all ready for it.

Harper was sick all weekend, but we made it outside yesterday afternnoon for a little bike ride.

The girls should really be on each other's bikes, but Harper would have none of it. Every time we suggested that she give Hadley a turn, Harper would scream bloody murder. She's a raw nerve, this one. Every thing is just fine as long as nobody does anything she doesn't want them to do.

That's right, Dad. Push me on this bike even though there is a nice handle on the other one, and my legs barely reach the peddles on the bike I'm currently on. Hadley kept saying, "This bike makes me knees hurt." Well, OF COURSE your knees hurt! You look like an 18 year old riding that bike. (We insisted Hadley and Harper switch bikes every so often but Harper made such fuss that Hadley decided it was more fun to ride the other bike.)

We also went out for some for "fro yo" (I can quote Julie Cooper if I want to) at a new place down the street from us. You serve yourself here, which the girls think is awesome. It reminds me of my after dinner treat I used to have at Calvin. I would always get a chocolate/vanilla swirled ice-cream cone (that I made myself). My trick was to put the sprinkles in the bottom of the cone which served two purposes: 1- it didn't make the cone soggy from all the ice-cream I'd pile onto it. 2-the sprinkles were a surprise at the end of my treat.

A surprise and a sog defender - you can't go wrong.

"What do you mean I'm not getting more when this is gone? I don't understand those words. Are you not aware of what I am capable of? I'll throw a tantrum in public. Try me."

"I'm so happy."

Happy, happy, happy!

And here's me and Voldemort.

I can call her Voldemort because Harper and I? We're the same person. I understand her anger and frustration. I don't like it. It makes me insane when she throws a tantrum, but I understand why she gets mad. She has an idea of the way the world should be and when the world doesn't fit her idea, we all suffer for it. She's going to hear "roll with the punches" a lot, however, I'm not sure I'll be the one to model that phrase for her. I don't roll well. I'm actually quite square.

Anyway, after our ice-cream we walked around for a bit and saw a soon-to-be new hamburger restaurant. This made us realize that we wanted hamburgers for dinner, so we went to Five Guys. It was a backwards kind of day.

The warm weather and sunshine will do that you.

Behind the Scenes

2011-02-21T20:33:00.000-05:00

When we'd go to visit my Grandma in Grand Rapids, my cousins and I used to wander around what I thought was a huge field next to her condo. It seemed to go on forever, and the weeds were so high that they blocked the traffic noise of 28th Street, putting me in a different world. I still have the smell of those weeds in my memory. The smell is mixed up with the "S" cookies and breadsticks she used to make; all part of a lovely childhood.

If we happen to be around my Grandma's old condo when we go back to Grand Rapids, I have a bittersweet chuckle when I glance at the "gigantic field" that took up my imagination in those days. It really wasn't that big, and now, it's pretty much non existent. There's a bank and several more condos where those tall weeds used to be.

But I don't think what happens to be takes away from the memory that actually is. The field is no longer, but my memories of walking around in it with my cousins still exist. And it might've not been the size that I thought it was, but it expanded my imagination.

And so it goes with the memories I document here. I've found myself taking pictures of our days together "just in case" a blog entry pops in my head and then I have a picture to match what I'm writing about. But sometimes the story that's happening isn't the one that the picture captures.

For example, here are some shots of what we did on Friday after naptime.

The weather was beautiful on Friday, and so as Harper was playing in her crib for a bit (something she loves to do after she wakes up), Hadley and I sat out on the porch.
Except that's not all that happened. Hadley has been sick for a few days and it seems that with her ailments come a shortened attention span, as well as a grumpy mood. So she sat outside for about 5 minutes but went back inside because it was too windy and her paper wouldn't lay flat.

So then I convinced the girls to take a walk with me to our local grocery store because I thought the fresh air would do them some good. Plus, I promised them Popsicles if they'd come with me.

Hadley wrote the list of what we needed. Here she is crossing off "Windex" in the grocery store. (She drew a picture of a blue bottle and put a "w" underneath it.)

And here's Harper doing her best to help out, too.

And of course, the Popsicles.

I can't remember the last time the girls have been in the stroller. I can't say that I miss pulling that thing in and out of the car, setting it up, buckling them in, and pushing them around in it. Walking takes more time, but it's more fun for us. Except when your kids have to constantly compete for who gets to be first and they end up shoving and pushing each other out of the way until they fall on top of one another and land face first on the sidewalk outside of the grocery store.

Then it's not so fun. Then I have to carry them both while they're screaming about being hurt and wanting to be first.

Moving on....

As I mentioned, Hadley has been sick, and this is primarily what she did for most of the weekend. She doesn't nap anymore, but the past few days she'd sit down on the couch and just fall asleep. So Sunday, the girls and I stayed in our PJ's and watched a few Glee scenes while Jesse went to church.

(Jesse was the "deacon on duty" yesterday, otherwise he would've stayed at home with us.)

Hadley got tired and wanted to lay down, so she went into her room. Harper decided that Hadley needed a story read to her before she went to sleep.

Here's a little video to give you a better idea of the sweet and grumpy that I'm trying to express:

Here's what else happened that I didn't take a picture of. When we were at the grocery store, I accidentally got into a line where the light was off. The girl said she was about to take a break and I made an attempt to get out of line, but then she recognized me and said, "Oh, I can take YOU! I haven't seen you in forever! How are you? How are the girls?"

And then on Sunday evening, as Jesse was getting ready to go back to church, we got a phone call from another deacon who said he'd be in church and since Hadley was sick he'd take the responsibility so Jesse didn't need to go.

I'm taking a creative nonfiction class, and the first line of the course description is a line from Emily Dickinson, "Tell all the truth, but tell it slant." I like that. The truth is the weekend was filled with both sunshine and cold wind. It had frustrating and funny parts to it. There was running and falling, and laughing and crying. I like that we live in a community where people at the grocery store know us, and people at our church are willing to offer help even when we don't ask. I like that we live in a place where we have a little "field" of our own that we can walk through.

And while we're walking through this little field, we can stop and note that we have matching shoes on our feet.

So I'll keep taking pictures and jotting down notes of what we're doing with our days together. I think part of the fun with writing these posts is figuring out what the memory will be. It could be about a favorite breakfast spot.

Or time spent drawing band-aids on a triceratops.

I'll take it all, whatever it ends up being.

Because I Should've Been an English Major

2011-02-17T06:48:00.000-05:00

Jesse and I were in Australia a few years ago visiting my brother while he was there for awhile. One night we watched a movie that I forgot the name of, and actually don't remember much about the story except a very small part. The main character had just moved somewhere new, and as he was wandering around his new area, there was this great line about how right now, the things he was looking at - stop signs, store fronts, cafes, etc - are all strange and maybe intimidating. But it won't be long before these things are familar and part of what makes up this person's home.

I knew we were moving to DC a few weeks after we came home from Australia, and I thought about putting that quote on a wall somewhere in our home. As places around me became familar, I'd put pictures of them around these words to illustrate how DC was becoming a place I felt at home in. I liked the idea of something starting out as unfamilar and intimidating - maybe even overwhelming - but turning into something I identify with.

Kind of like motherhood.

I didn't pursue this idea, but I think about that scene in the movie a lot, and was reminded of it this Valentine's Day when the girls and I made a morning trip to Hadley Park.

This is a park I've been going to since Hadley was six months old. Before she was crawling we would come here because the ground was soft and easy to play on.

And four years later, it is still a favorite place to go.

I remember once, when the girls were both in diapers, I realized as they were playing at this park that they both needed to be changed. That was probably the hardest diaper duty I ever had. Haul screaming, smelly kids to the car. Put one screaming, smelly kid in a carseat. Lay the other screaming smelly kid in the back of the car and change diaper. Put clean screaming kid in carseat. Take the other screaming smelly kid out and change diaper. Go back to the park (for the love of all things good, go back to the park).

It seems that every year the girls and I go somewhere for the first time again, I take notice of how things have changed from when we were there last year at this time. Our first trip to the park this year, I found myself pleasantly surprised how my role as "spotter" has diminished. I may put out a hand here and there, but mostly I go to enjoy the sunshine and watch Hadley climb all over the place.

And see Harper go down the "twirly" slide.

Again,

and again.

Once, when I was at Calvin sitting in a British Literature class, we were discussing a poem by Wordsworth. The prof was trying to help us understand what the poem was about, and in an effort to do so he had us think about a place that we return to again and again. He told us that as the years go by, we change, but this place does not. When you come back to it, despite what has happened over any amount of time, you know what to do in this place. You know what it's for. You can mark time and do a little thinking in this place. Maybe you figure things out about yourself in this place.

That seems like a nice idea of home.

UR GR8. For realz.

2011-02-09T18:35:00.000-05:00

Did you know Valentine's Day is coming up? It is. It's coming up and there's going to be some festivities at Hadley's school. I was supposed to be a helper on that day, but I'm not allowed to bring the Harps. It's OK because in all honesty, Harper would destroy the classroom and probably scare all the kids.

But I was in charge of getting white bags with handles on them along with Valentine's Day stickers. This is so the kids can decorate their bags to hold their Valentine's that they get from each other. This will be the end of their "sharing" unit, and all the kids are bringing in Valentine's for their classmates.

So I got the bags and stickers with little to no stress, but it's the Valentine's that caused a mild panic attack this week. Were they always so tacky? Oh, and the things they say on them! "U R GR8." Is it so hard to write the words out? And also, who am I allowing my kid to say "U R GR8" too? I'm sure all of Hadley's classmates are "GR8" indeed, but while I'm still in charge of what she can and can't write I'm taking advantage of this responsibility.

I know I wasn't the only one who thought the Valentine selections left something to be desired. When I was at Target on Tuesday, this aisle was the most crowded aisle in the store. All of us mothers were crammed in reaching for boxes and putting them back. At one point I looked at the others' faces and I'm pretty sure I was displaying the same scrunched up face as they were.

I decided I'd have Hadley make her own.

I'm really nervous about my decision. What if Hadley gets to school the day of the party and sees everyone elses princess, Dora, Mickey Mouse,what-have-you Valentines, and then looks at hers and thinks, "THESE ARE SOOOOOO LAME!" Case in point: I cannot STAND those light up shoes. I hate them. And yet, Hadley has a pair. Why? Because when she saw them in the store, and I saw her face as she tried them on and watched them "sparkle" (as she said), I had to get them for her. They are so incredibly tacky, but she loves them and so I got them for her. What if she thinks those other Valentine's are super cool and she hates the ones she made? I've single handedly ruined her very first Valentine's Day party because I made her make her own Valentine's cards.

This is my train of thought as I drove home from Target.

But we made them anyway. I cut out hearts and glued them on some red notecards (with matching red envelopes), and wrote "Happy Valentine's Day" on each of them. Then I got out some pens for Hadley to write her name and do some doodling on each one.

Look at those cute hands.

And look how proud!

My mom is going to contemplate disowning me for writing this, but there's this scene in Eddie Murphy's "Delirious" (I can hear her now, "OH Callie, don't talk about that!") where the neighborhood kids are eating burgers. I think they're from McDonalds. Little Eddie wants a burger too, and his mom says she can make one for him. So she makes him a hamburger and it's nothing like the one from McDonalds. It's huge and there's grease running down his arm and I think he starts to cry. This is what I'm imagining is going to happen when Hadley passes out her Valentine's to the kids. They're like three times bigger then the ones that were in Target. Will that upset her? Will she think her pictures are dumb? Will she wish I got her the ones with princesses on them? Should I stop writing this post and head back to Target and get the "UR GR8" ones?

Hadley loved making her cards, and she can't wait to give them to her classmates, so I'm just going to not worry about it and eat cupcakes instead.

U R GR8. For real.

Red Dress Club Prompt - Somebody Tells a Joke; Somebody Cries

2011-02-04T07:39:00.000-05:00

Every summer the Little League teams in the Chicago suburbs were invited to Comiskey Park for “Little League Night” (at least, that’s what I’m calling it now). We got to wear our baseball uniforms, eat hotdogs, watch the Sox play, and the highlight was being able to walk around the baseball diamond while the crowd cheered and the organ played, “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” (or maybe it was “Pump Up the Jam”).

The night I went I had previously spent several hours at the dentist’s office getting a root canal. I needed a root canal because I’d gotten half my front tooth knocked out during one of my baseball games.

I love the reactions I get when people find out my tooth was knocked out during a baseball game. They look at me like I might be an athlete, and if I knew enough about baseball, I’d make the next part up and create a character who won the game while sacrificing her front tooth.

What happened was this: I was sitting on the bench in the dugout, trying to draw a butterfly in the dirt with my shoe. I heard cheers and screams, and looked up to see my teammate running the bases. She got to home plate before the other team could get the ball, resulting in a homerun. We jumped and “hoorayed” as she ran into the dugout slapping her “five” and hitting her helmet.

Now that I think about it, I don’t know how her helmet came into contact with my tooth. I was one of the last people to congratulate her, so maybe she wasn’t paying attention. Or, more likely, I lost interest in congratulating her and turned my attention to my butterfly dirt sketch.

What I do remember was the crack I heard when her head hit my tooth. And then the sand-papery feel of what was left of my tooth. Suddenly that warm summer breeze was frigid when I breathed in, and I put my hand over my mouth quickly to protect it while tears streamed down my cheeks.

So after the root canal, I’m walking around the baseball diamond at Comiskey, and all I can think about is the root my dentist showed me when he took it out of my mouth.

“Do you want to keep it?” he asked my mom.

“NO!” With that one word my mom was able to express disgust as well as her suspicion that the dentist might be nuts.

As we drove home on the Eisenhower, we were behind a school bus filled with adults, that to my 4th grade mind, were not following the rules of good riding-the-school-bus-behavior. You NEVER stick your head out of the window, or stand up while the bus is moving. And you certainly don’t pull your pants down and press your butt up against the back window so the family in the brown caravan with the 9 and 11 year old kids can see it.

“What is he doing?” my brother said, a mixture of awe and fear in his voice.

My mom, never to miss an educational moment, said,

“Kids? That’s what you call a pressed ham.”

Lessons Learned At Arts and Crafts Class

2011-02-02T19:31:00.000-05:00

Today we went to an arts and crafts class, and here is what I learned.

Lesson 1:

Harper doesn't listen to anyone. She is going to do what she's going to do, no matter what. The teacher told us to bring smocks to class, so I did. Hadley? She put it on right away. All the other kids did too, and I would like to add here that there are both boys and girls in the class. Everyone put their smocks on.

Not Harper.

We worked with red paint, can you tell? It's on her face, on her pants, all over the chair, and on the table.
"Harper, you have paint all over you. Do you want to put your smock on now?"
"No. I'm not putting on my smock. Right. Now." That's what she does when she's trying to sound like she really means what she's saying. Like this, "I'm not cleaning up. Right. Now." Or, "I'm not going to eat my apple. Right. Now."

Also, when the teacher was explaining the three crafts we were going to make, Harper, in not a quiet voice kept asking me, "Can you trace my hand, Mommy, PLEEEEEEASE?"

"Harper, we need to listen to the teacher."

"Don't wanna listen to the teacher. Right. Now."

Lesson 2

Hadley is super fast. Today's crafts had to do with the Chinese New Year, so we made hats, a bunny rabbit (it's the year of the rabbit), and lanterns. The parents get the materials for the kids, and I thought I'd start with the stuff for the hats. Before you could say "Ni Hao Kai Lan", Hadley says, "I'm done."
"You're done?"
"Yea, what's the next thing we're gonna make?"

Meanwhile, Harper's painting the room red.

Lesson 3.

I'm that guy with the clipboard and the lab coat in the movie The Dream Team. Do you know who I'm talking about? Christoper Lloyd plays this character who is in a mental hospital in this movie. He walks around with a clipboard with a list of things to do, and a very detailed schedule of the day. He likes things very neat and organized, and he doesn't do well when the plan changes, or people aren't following rules. He didn't know why he was in the hospital.

And honestly, I don't know why he was either. His behavior seems like good common sense, to me.

I was reminded of him today as I was going back and forth getting art supplies for the girls. There was one hole punch for the entire group, and I swear the teacher told the parents to keep it on the counter, but I never saw it once. That was annoying, but what really got me was the kid who was using the only stapler available to staple newspaper together. The newspaper was not part of the projects we were working on. It was to prevent a mess. OK, fine. Your kid likes to staple newspaper together? Mine likes to paint the table, chairs, and herself red. But tell your kid to share the darn thing because I need to staple my kids' lantern together so they stop yelling at me from across the room, "Mommy! My lantern doesn't work! Why doesn't it work? Mommy! Fix it! Fix it!"

This would not have happened if I had a clipboard. And my own stapler. OK, so maybe I'm like that guy from The Office, too.

Lesson 4.

Nothing is better than watching to the magic of what a teacher can do. Hadley is obsessed with mixing colors. She loves to talk about what happens when you mix yellow and blue, or what have you. While the teacher was walking around the room, she stopped what Hadley was working on and after complimenting Hadley on her work, she said, "Now how did you get pink? I didn't put pink paint out today."

"I mixed 'em."
"You mixed the paints?"
"Yea. I mixed the red and white to make pink." Hadley is beaming at this point. Like she's teaching the teacher something.
"Now that's a great idea."
"Thanks!"

Year O' the Rabbit, indeed.

Not That You Asked

2011-01-30T21:29:00.000-05:00

Here's Harper at a baby shower we went to this afternoon.

It took place at one of the coolest condos I've been to.

But that's not the story. The story is that we got to celebrate the upcoming son or daughter of some friends we've known since 2000. The crazy thing about our history with Tim and Angela is that we met them in Indiana where we became fast friends, and within weeks several years later, we found out we were both moving to Maryland.

Here I am hanging out with the mommy-to-be (those pins on our clothes are for a game we were playing that had something to do with trying to obtain as many as you can.....you know I kicked butt on that game. Me and my "Hey! How ya doin'? Let's make some small talk" self.)

There was a pinata.

I think it's safe to say that Hadley thinks anything that gives away free candy, like Halloween, is a fine invention. This was by far, the highlight of the afternoon.

Do you see that pink piece of tissue paper near Hadley? She used that to carry her loot in. At first, she was just grabbing as much as she could and trying to carry it. However, after realizing that this was simply not going to work due to the amount of candy she wanted, she grabbed that piece of tissue paper and made herself a little catch-all. The kid has to be told to brush her teeth, turn off lights, put on underwear, but find a way to store as much candy as possible? She's totally got that.

Hooray!

It was a really fun time, and I can't wait to meet Baby H.

Looking at this picture I'm thinking back and wondering if I was giving Angela unwanted advice. You know, you get around other moms, and moms-to-be and stuff just starts coming out of your mouth before you can say, "STOP TALKING! STOP TALKING NOW!" I think part of it is I've been where she's going and I want her to know that as hard and confusing and exhausting as it's going to get, it isn't anything she can't handle. It's not a "I did this and I'm totally awesome because of it" kind of thing. It's more like I'm excited for her and want to let her know she'll be just fine. I guess it's my way of rooting Angela on.

Hadley was 10 days overdue. I wasn't working because I was on somewhat of a liberal bedrest due to contractions that started several weeks before it was safe for Hadley to be born. So one morning, after I'd watched my 5th episode of The Gilmore Girls, I decided I was going to go somewhere. I'd heard walking was supposed help the baby come faster, so I figured I'd take a walk. The problem was, I couldn't get my right shoe on. Something about a nerve in my butt made it excruciating to get that other shoe on my foot. I sat down on our couch and cried. Then I called Jesse and said, "I can't leave the house because I can't get my shoe on!"

Jesse did his best to cheer me up, but what really made a difference that morning was receiving my very first text message. It was from Angela. I think she'd won an award for teaching. I can't remember what it was, but it was so good to hear from her. What she didn't realize is that for a few minutes, while I tried to figure out how to text her back, and we had a little conversation, she'd taken my mind off of the hugeness of my stomach and the lack of mobility I was experiencing at the moment. She made me feel normal again.

And I think that's what we moms are all trying to do with our stories of delivering our beautiful babies, or discussing the many nights we tried to get them to sleep, or whatever it is we share. We're just trying to make you feel normal again.

OK, maybe we think we're a little awesome because of what we did. I mean, 9lb 10oz? And I pushed for 30 minutes and then there was my Hadley Grace? That's nothin' to shake a stick at.

Go, Hadley Go! Go, Hadley Go!

2011-01-22T22:01:00.001-05:00

Hadley and I had our first experience at a little establishment called MyGym yesterday evening (GASP! You've never been to MyGym?!?!?! What kind of parent are you, anyway, Callie?).

This was the scene as Hadley and I entered.

It's like Heaven to a 4 year old, right? What could possibly be cooler than this? Do you see Hadley waaayy back there? She's in the red sweatshirt climbing up a ladder. She's about to get into a huge pool of balls. Oh, how I miss being able to get to play in that. And oh, how I hoped so badly that Hadley would need me to come and rescue her so I could do a big canon-ball jump into that pool. One day, we will have that in our home. I will never not think thousands of colored balls in a big pool is not super fun.

So this was for a birthday party for one of Hadley's classmates. Next time Hadley is invited to a birthday party, I'm not telling her about it until 5 minutes before we leave. Hadley knew about this party for about 15 days before it happened, and EVERY DAY we had to discuss when it was, what we would do, who would be there. And my favorite? Whether or not I would TALK while I was there.

"Mama, are you sure you have to stay at the birthday party?"

"Yes, Hadley. I am pretty sure I'm supposed to stay."

"OK, but can you not talk too much?"

"Yes, Hadley. I will stand in a corner and not say a word."

It's what I do anyway.

Note that these kids have no socks on. That is the rule to prevent slipping and sliding as they run amok in this play area. This was quite helpful for me because earlier this week, Hadley was telling me about one of her classmates. We'll call him Bud because I'm feeling like a Huxtable. Here's a conversation that Hadley told me about Bud earlier this week:

"Mama? I have to tell you something that I'm shy about."

"OK."

"Bud doesn't have 10 toes."

You know what I did? I started laughing. And I couldn't stop. I was laughing so hard I was crying. And Hadley was not impressed.

"Mama, it's not funny."

Anyway, Bud was at the party and I happened to check to see that he in fact has all his toes. I'm not sure where Hadley got this information from, but I believe this is not the last thing I will be completely confused about when she talks about her friends.

Here is the highlight of the evening. For me, anyway.

It turns out that I probably didn't need to stay for the party. The thing is, though, that watching Hadley in this kind of situation is fascinating. As long as I can sneak a peak into her social life, I'm going to do it.

On an etiquette note, as we were driving over to the party, Hadley said to me: "Mama, I'm not gonna pick my nose at the birthday party because it's not nice."

"That's good, Hadley. I'm glad to know that."

"Yea. It's not nice, and I don't want to hurt anyone's feelings."

Right, because picking your nose is truly harmful to others. Going around telling people that you know a kid that doesn't have 10 toes? That doesn't do any damage at all.

Title One: Oh Boy Title Two: This One's For Tara

2011-01-21T22:01:00.000-05:00

This week's prompt from The Red Dress Club is to write something using only dialogue.

When I have taken writing classes, the rule number one is to not explain anything before you share your work with others. Just read it, or let others read it, but don't say, "This really stinks." Or, "I want to come across as funny." The people reading your work will come to those conclusions themselves.

I'm breaking the rule. I've been working on a short story for a couple of years now, and it involves an incident between my cousin Tara and myself. If I had to make a Top 10 List of favorite childhood memories, this would rank up there as one of them. I won't explain anything else except to say that I had little dialogue in the story, and completing this exercise was fun because I got to listen what these characters had to say.

Here goes:

"Let's ride down the driveway on Jack's skateboard." Sawyer said.

"Huh? No way." Thatcher said.

"Yea. Let's do it."

"Sawyer, your driveway is like, an anoconda. I'm not sitting on a skateboard and riding down it. We'll be going 45,000 miles an hour! Are you insane?"

"We're doin' it!"

"Put that skateboard down! I'm not getting on it with you, Sawyer!"

"Yea ya are. And you'll LOVE it. We're gonna go so fast!" Sawyer said.

"That's what I'm afraid of."

"I'll be in front and you can sit behind me. C'mon, sit down....COME ON, Thatcher! What's the worst that could happen? We fall off the skateboard? We'll be inches from the ground. No big deal. Get on!"

"Fine." Thatcher said.

"Yesssss!"

"Ew! The top of the board is all gritty. Gross." Thatcher complained.

"Gritty's good! Our butts are gonna stay on better. We don't want to be slipping around while we ride down the....what'd you call my driveway?" Sawyer asked.

"An anaconda. It's the largest snake there is." Thatcher said.

"Anacondaaaaaaa. I like it."

"OK. I'm on. I feel like a dork, and I'm scared to death, but I'm on." Thatcher said.

"We're not doing this to be cool, we're doing this because it's gonna be AWESOME! Now listen: we'll need to lean left right away so we stay on the driveway when it turns."

"Uh huh. Does your heart feel like it's going to beat out of your chest?"

"Yea! I love that feeling!" Sawyer said.

"I'm not really enjoying it." Thatcher said.

"OK! Here we goooooooo!"

Twelve Years of Grace

2011-01-20T05:58:00.000-05:00

One of my favorite memories of spending time with Jesse happened on a late afternoon at Crisan's Coffeeshop in East Grand Rapids (I am sad to say it's no longer in business due to the "Big S" moving in a few doors down). Jesse was a senior, and I was a junior at Calvin, and we'd brought our homework with us and sat at a table next to the window.

I was doing math homework. This might not seem like a big deal if you don't know me very well. However, if you have lived with me for any amount of time, you will know that I don't do math. Math and me? We don't get along. Textbooks have been thrown against walls. Notebook paper has been ripped to shreds. Erasers have been scratched down to nubs. But on this day, as I was working on a problem, I noticed that the sun had cast a shadow diagonally across my notebook paper, letting me know evening was on its way. Jesse and I had been working for hours at my beloved Crisan's, and I was finding out that math wasn't too bad.

Don't take this the wrong way. Jesse was in no way helping me with my homework. I think he'd learned early that nobody can help. Helping me consists of a kind man whose name rhymes with Tonathan Mewis, sitting at the dining table late at night finishing my math homework for me because I was too frustrated with those darn long division problems. And who cares about remainders anyway?

What was special about this late afternoon/early evening was that I was enjoying doing work, and I know Jesse was too. After twelve years of being married to Jesse I realize that this is who we are. We like to work. We like lists. We are happiest working on some kind of project or talking about some kind of goal we want to reach.

It seems terribly unromantic, I suppose, but for me, it is nice to spend time with someone who goes to the library looking for a book for himself, and comes back with stacks of books on writing for me because he thinks I might enjoy them. Or someone who showed me where all the coffee shops were in South Bend after we were first married, because "it might be nice to do your work in a different environment besides the classroom."

I'm writing about this because on Sunday, Jesse and I celebrated twelve years of marriage. We went to a great restaurant called Corduroy in DC on Saturday night, thanks to my Uncle Greg and Aunt Julie. As we ate, I remembered that we didn't have any dessert at home, and Jesse said, "I bought an apple fritter at the Royal Crown Bakery this morning when I went to get bagels." This made me laugh because Jesse loves apple fritters, and I proceeded to tell him the time I had my first apple fritter. I went to visit him at Notre Dame one February weekend when I was a senior at Calvin. You know what we did? We worked. We worked and we ate apple fritters along with my favorite candy of all time - a certain kind of gummy worm that you can only find at Meijer grocery stores. I remember we walked out of Cushing Hall, and it was late; I don't think any students were around (they were probably all at Corby's). We walked towards his apartment and it had just started to snow, and I don't know if I was more excited about the snow falling or the fact that I had just completed an insane amount of homework while Jesse working on his hurricane storm surges.

I tend to get a little wrapped up in the importance of hard work, but here are two reminders of hard work, yes, but I think more importantly, they are reminders of grace. They are reminders that no matter what we have done in the past, what we've accomplished or what major mistakes we've made, they are our children. We will always be their mom and dad. No matter what.

So this weekend was filled with a lot of grace and work. Like always. We went to IKEA (that's where Hadley and Harper are in the picture) to get some supplies for a few projects we had going on in our place. Hadley was a big help when we got back home, and used the stud finder to "look for wood" throughout the house so that "Daddy won't put any holes in it."

I so want her pants, by the way.

Jesse hung a few things for me.

I did a few things, too.

And Harper? Harper put her dinosaurs to sleep.

The thing about work is this: the more I do it, the more I see grace. So it's hard for me to understand grace without work. One of my favorite quotes was written by George MacDonald:

"But the door into joy generally opens behind us, and a hand is put forth which draws us in backwards. The sole wisdom for the person who is haunted with the hovering of unseen wings, with the scent of unseen roses, and the subtle enticement of melodies unheard, is work. If you follow any of these, they will vanish. But if you work, they will come unsought."

I'm glad I'm married to someone who understands this.

Writing Prompt from The Red Dress Club

2011-01-14T10:37:00.000-05:00

I follow a blog called The Red Dress Club, and every Tuesday they post a writing prompt for us to work on and post our piece on Friday. This week's writing prompt was to take something out of your pantry and write something using all the ingredients on the box. I was tempted to use my Starbucks coffee beans, but I figured that'd be cheating. Instead, I closed my eyes, reached in and grabbed a "Make Your Own Chocolate Kit." Here's what I came up with:

Which part of chocolate is supposed to give you a lift when you eat it? Is it the cocoa butter? The cocoa powder? Personally, I don't like chocolate, but my daughters think it's the best thing since Diego. So we bought the "Make Your Own Chocolate Kit" for them.

Maybe it's the cocoa liquor and the sugar. These two seem like friendly ingredients.

My husband and I found the kit in a store on Division in Wicker Park. We were visiting my hometown, Chicago, and my parents were babysitting while we enjoyed an afternoon downtown. First, we had a leisurely lunch at Milk and Honey. We sat outside while we ate, the weather just beginning to warm so that the sun made you feel like you were glowing. I was wearing a black dress I was giddy about. I loved the way I looked in it, and yet, I had this other voice, a voice that seemed to emerge after I became a mother, that whispered snidely, "What are you doing wearing something like that? You're a mom for Pete's sake. Why would you spend money on that when most of the time you're in a tshirt and jeans? You can't go to the park in THAT." I tried to ignore this voice and looked at the Chicago skyline - tall and beautiful in the distance.

How do you get milk fat into a box of dry ingredients? Seems kind of gross. What is milk fat, anyway?

We bought the kit and decided to save it for a Christmas present for the girls. It sat in the pantry through the summer, hidden behind a bag of brown rice. In the meantime, THE VOICE seemed to get louder and stronger. It'd come out not just when I ran my hands over my black dress as I decided what to wear in the morning, but also when I became interested in doing something for myself. "You can't do that. You're a mom now. You had your chance. You need to take care of the girls now."

I hated this voice. Partly because I couldn't tell whether or not it spoke the truth. So I started to dare myself to go against THE VOICE. It started with a writing class I wanted to take. THE VOICE had a huge issue with me taking this class because it was held on a Tuesday morning. "That's mom/child time. You take that class and you're gonna miss out on your daughters' lives. Why did you choose to stay at home if you're going to take a writing class? If you want to work, then go back to teaching. At least you'd be helping out the family financially. If you're gonna leave the girls with a babysitter, you may as well make money while you do it."

But I took the class anyway. We hired a babysitter, and that first day, I sat in class writing and writing. My hand throbbed from holding my pen. As I shared my writing, or talked about an idea in class, I felt someone else coming out. Someone who seemed to be asleep for a few years. Or perhap it was someone who thought she was of no use anymore. Kind of like Puff. But she crept back out and I was glad to see her.

The class ended and my husband suggested we keep the babysitter coming on Tuesdays so I could keep writing. "The class seemed to do you some good." he observed. Plus, we loved the babysitter. The girls screamed in glee when she came to the door and she seemed just as enthused to see them. She became part of our family - we text each other randomly throughout the week to talk about the girls or books we're reading - a lovely blessing to hiring someone to take care of your children.

I was thinking about THE VOICE the other day when my girls wanted to make chocolate using the chocolate kit we bought them. They brought up the idea a few minutes before the babysitter was coming over so I could write (she comes twice a week now). I set everything out and told the girls they could make the chocolate when the babysitter came over.

As I sat down to write, I got a text saying the making of the chocolate wasn't going so well. A glass bowl had broke with the dark chocolate and cocoa butter in it. I texted her back with an "Uh oh! Are they really upset?" She wrote, "No. Just wanted you to know about the glass bowl. I feel bad that it broke."

I laughed and then picked up my pen to write, but then realized that THE VOICE wasn't there to intervene. No, "You should go home." Or, "This wouldn't have happened if you were there to make the chocolate with them." I rolled my eyes at the ridiculousness of these statements, but also was aware that I had beaten THE VOICE up a little bit. Tolled her to shut up. Gave her a smack. I was proud of myself.

On my way home, I stopped by the grocery store and picked up a brownie mix to make with the girls in the afternoon. Not because THE VOICE told me to, but because I thought it would be fun.

"I'm a Rule Changer"

2011-01-12T21:47:00.001-05:00

When I first got my license, I was told that I was not allowed to cross Harlem, a major road that divided Oak Park from other Chicago suburbs. I didn't have a problem with this rule mostly because I didn't have much interest in driving west. However, what my parents neglected to tell me I couldn't do was drive east, as in, on the Eisenhower towards Chicago. And so, that is what I did. I am sure I knew that if they didn't want me driving on Harlem, they probably weren't too comfortable with their new driver daughter toodling towards the Sears tower, and they probably assumed that was a given. This did not register with me, and I don't remember thinking at the time, "This is not something that they would want me to do." I was too excited to see the city.

I have been thinking about this event in my life in my dealings with Hadley recently. She is very busy constructing her own world right now, and often it conflicts with what the rest of us are trying to do. I take it personally, like she's trying to drive me insane on purpose. But then I think about my accidentally-on-purpose rule breaking when I got my license, and I realize that it's not really a lack of respect or wanting to be bad. It's simply a kid doing her thing with no regard for anybody else. I still get mad, but it doesn't make me love Hadley any less. Just like I know she doesn't love me any less when she chooses not to do whatever it is I want her to do.

It's just hard to keep up with her sometimes.
For example:

Yesterday afternoon, Hadley and I were playing with puzzles together. When we got to this puzzle,

Hadley decided that we should take all the pieces and put them in a pile. Then, whoever gets the most pieces, gets to be the first person to start the puzzle. I agreed, and started grabbing pieces.

"No, no, no, Mama. You just take one piece at a time."

"OK." I started to take one piece at a time. Then Hadley started to take more than one piece, so I said,

"Hey! What are you doing? You just told me I can only take one piece!"

"Yes, that is what I said. But it is easier to do it this way."

"You keep changing the rules on me." I told her.

"Well, Mama, I'm a rule changer."

Here's another incident that happened recently:

One afternoon Hadley and Harper were fighting about something, and Hadley pushed Harper. When I went over to see what happened, Hadley told me that Harper had fallen off a chair. I would've believed her except that Harper was nowhere near a chair. Also, Harper said, "Hadwee pushed me!" When I asked Hadley if that was true, Hadley said that it was. I told Hadley that we don't push people, and we definetely don't lie about it. Hadley's punishment was that she was not allowed to play computer games that night.

A few hours later, I'm checking my email at the time Hadley is usually playing computer games. She comes up behind me and says, "Mama? I have to tell you something."

"OK."

"When someone asks you to do something that is reeeeally special, you have to let them do it." She informs me.

"OK." I say.

"I would like to play computer games."

"You're not playing computer games, and you know why."

"I know, Mama. I know I'm not playing compter games because I pushed Harper and lied about it. But you're not listening to me. I'm telling you when someone asks to do something special, then you have to let them do it."

"You're not playing computer games, Hadley."

On and on this went until I said/yelled "I'm the mother! You're not playing computer games!"

I see what's going on though. Hadley's interested in testing out what she can do with her life. She wants to experience things, figure things out for herself. I understand. Everytime I see the Chicago skyline I understand. I think my parents understood, too. Because when someone wants to do something reeeally special, you have to let them do it.

Feeling Better

2011-01-11T05:52:00.000-05:00

I don't sound all that great, but I am feeling much better then I was last week at this time. At least now I can play with the girls, unlike last week when I was struggling to sit up.

Since they've been back, the preferred activity is to play on this great mat that their Aunt Shani gave them for Christmas. Their dinosaurs have lots of fun on it.

The dinosaurs are getting ready to ride the bus to go and get ice-cream, Teen Wolf style.

Hadley and Harper lined all these dinosaurs up, plus all the guys inside the bus and then proceeded to order a different kind of ice-cream for each one. It was like 345 different ice cream orders. Chocolate ice cream with rainbow sprinkles, vanilla ice cream with red sprinkles, chocolate and vanilla swirled in a cone, chocolate ice cream with nothing else on it. Everyone had ice-cream except for the bus driver who needed to stand by the bus to "keep it safe," and the pterodactyl because "he can't stand up." Poor guys.

After ice-cream it was circle time.

Apparently the bus driver is the teacher. Or he is about to get beat up. I'm not sure what's going to happen here. It's mildy threatening, however.

Whatever was about to happen next, I was glad to be able to be a part of it.

As A Dog

2011-01-07T10:53:00.000-05:00

I'm not going to go into all the details, because when people write posts about how sick they are then I think I'm getting sick too. But I will just say that I believe my temperature was 425 two days ago. Also, my head swelled up to the size of a Macy's Day Parade balloon. Try having a conversation with the nurse when those are your symptoms. "Hello? Yes, I have a 425 degree temperature and my head doesn't fit into my house. Do you have something I can take for that?"

Anyway, I am doing better but not enough to tell you what's going on with the H's. That's because, for the past six days, Jesse has been taking full care of them. (I think we should call him St. Jesse, actually.) I also can't form sentences all that great because I have not had any coffee for like 5 days. This is not good. Not good at all.

So here's what we're gonna do. Since it's the New Year, I thought I'd create a Top 10 list of my favorite posts from 2010. That way, I don't have to use more braincells then I absolutely have to, and another bonus is that I can focus on what great times the Feyen family had in 2010. Because so far, 2011, for Callie anyway, has not gone well.

1. Crafty Schmafty "These projects are designed to do with your children, so you'd think I could manage them. And actually, I think I could manage them. Except I start reading the directions and I end up calling Jesse at work to ask him if he knows what a 'whip stitch' is."

2. Hanging Out at the White House "It was like being at a fair except you're on the lawn of the White House. THE WHITE HOUSE!"

3.Rewind Our trip to Leesburg, and my confession about enjoying to sit down as much as possible (also known as how Harper got her nose busted a l'il bit).

4. Caterpillar Drama I don't think a lot of people who know the story will want to read this post, but if you look at the stats (and some people in my family respect statistics), this one is the one that gets a lot o' hits.

5. Take Me Out to the Ballgame A very fun afternoon.

6. It's Funny Now "It wasn't pretty, I won't lie. Do you know that lips bleed a lot? No? They do. A lot. Luckily, Hadley went to get her doctor's kit that we got her for Christmas and told me she knew "just what to do" while Harper was screaming and blood was everywhere. So the three of us were in the bathroom, me holding Harper trying to wipe blood from her face, and Hadley, standing on her little step stool, pulling out her stethescope, trying to find Harper's heartbeat."

7. The PVC Pipe and Sandwich Post

"We went shopping for birthday presents on Saturday and apparently went to the wrong store. All we needed to do was buy different pieces of PVC pipe and throw them in cardboard boxes and we're golden. Hadley and Harper made telescopes, whistles, snakes, all sorts of things while Jesse looked for a little piece that was going to help him install the washer.

I stood by very patiently and didn't worry at all about when I will be able to wash my underwear again."

You know what? I'm wiped out. All I can manage is seven, guys. Maybe you can decide on the last three. What are your favorite Hadley and Harper memories? Help a sick lady out. in the meantime, I'm going to go take a nap....if only I could find a pillow big enough for my head.

For Geoff

2011-01-01T18:13:00.000-05:00

Dear Hadley,

This year you welcomed Christmas with much exuberance. You couldn't wait to open presents. You kneeled next to them under the tree and stared at them longingly. You brushed your hands against the stockings to see whether the bumps and crinkles were toys. You talked about Santa almost everyday.

The thing is, though, I think you liked the idea of a wrapped present - a surprise - more then what the present turned out to be. After the presents were opened and you found out what they all were, the excitement was over. I think it was hard on you.

As I watched you this past week, making a mental note of what I would write about on the ol' blog, I noticed that the best things you got this year, are the things that have been around for awhile. Keeping you company, making you laugh, helping to mold you into the person you are becoming.

One morning when we were in Chicago, Grandma started to play "Oh the Deep, Deep Love of Jesus" on the piano and you came running up from the basement to join in. She played "Silent Night" next and you sang along to that one, too. On another night, when we were in Grand Rapids, you and Harper played happily together in Grandma and Grandpa's living room while the rest us sat around the table and talked.

You also got to meet some of your cousins.

You're sitting next to Clara, my cousin Tonia's daughter. She is named after our Grandma. I think she'll probably be a spitfire like our Grandma was too.

Speaking of spitfires....

You got to hang out with another cousin while we were in Chicago, too. I think this was a highlight for you. I could tell you felt like a big girl sitting with an almost 13 year old.

My favorite memory from this year's Christmas? One night, your Uncle Geoff and Aunt Kellee, and your dad and I went out while we were in Chicago. When we came home, and pulled into the garage, we realized that when we opened the back door, we would in turn wake Grandma and Grandpa up. This was because they were sleeping in the room off of the kitchen (being the generous souls that they are, they gave us the bedrooms while we were visiting). This sent the four of us into a fit of giggles. And also, by the time we got to the backdoor, we decided we were all starving. So not only did we wake your grandparents up, we made ourselves a little snack, too. Don't worry, Grandma and Grandpa were laughing too. Grandma said, "Don't feel awkward about the fact that you're standing in our bedroom." This just sent us into another fit of laughter.

I think at this point, your Uncle Geoff decided to make himself a hashbrown, and we all thought that was absurd which just made things even more ridiculous.

But I thought as I was getting ready for bed that night, that of all the gifts my parents could've given me, having Geoff to hang out with is one of the greatest. And now to add your Aunt Kellee to the mix is a lovely gift as well.

I don't know if you'll remember all the presents you got when you were 4. I'm guessing you won't. And you might not remember making a snowman, playing in the basements of your grandparents' homes, lots of rounds of Zingo, or you and Harper watching the Nutcracker together while sitting in one of Grandma and Grandpa Feyen's chairs. But I wrote them down for you, and I hope that in time you will see that as exciting as a beautifully wrapped, sparkly present is, it doesn't compare to laughing so hard your stomach hurts because the members in your family are so, so funny.

Merry Christmas, Hadley. I'm going to see if there are any hashbrowns in the freezer.

For Our Christmas We.....

2010-12-19T19:11:00.000-05:00

Since we travel to the midwest over Christmas, we have our family's Christmas a little early. On Friday, we opened stockings.

One of the gifts the girls got was a princess flashlight. We're very excited about the princess flashlight. So much so that we like to walk into Mom and Dad's bedroom in the morning flashing it in their faces to let them know "IT'S TIME TO WAKE UP!" Worst alarm clock ever.

After stockings we made "make your own pizzas" for dinner.

It's always nice to see the cook in action with her hands down her pants, isn't it?

We decided to do stockings on Friday night and then do presents on Saturday because last year, we did everything all at once and I think the girls were nearing some sort of over stimulation coma. So we spread it out more this year.

Nothin' wrong with a princess fort. That's what I always say, anyway.

We had ourselves a nice breakfast and then played with our respective new toys. Then in the evening we went to Cactus Cantina for dinner.

Harper paid. Wasn't that nice?

And then after dinner we went to the zoo to see the Zoo Lights.

A blue tree. It's a Christmas miracle as far as Harper's concerned.

Nice weekend. And this is just the beginning.....

Hadley's First "Big Girl" Playdate

2010-12-15T07:32:00.000-05:00

Yesterday Hadley had a friend over sans the mama, and they had themselves a fine time. I tried to stay out of the way for most of the time, but I stole a few pictures and noted some particular hilarious things they said to each other.

Hadley's friend was a little nervous at first, and Hadley told me that right away. I love how blunt these kids are at this age. They will tell you whatever is on their mind. So the girls get in the car (she came home with us after school) and Hadley right away says, "Mom, I think we should just take her home. She doesn't want to come over." I said, "We can take her home if she wants to go home. That's fine." As I'm buckeling Hadley's friend in, she tells me, "I like to color. I think I'll color at your house and then go home." I said that was fine.

So they started off coloring. They decided to make Christmas ornaments, but Hadley's friend said she wasn't sure where she would put her ornament because there wasn't room on their tree. So Hadley, helpful lass that she is, went over to our tree and began pointing out every single branch saying, "Do you have an ornament here? How about here? Do you have one on this branch?" And each time her friend says, "No. No. No, we don't." I wasn't sure how long this would go on for, but it was pretty funny.

They seemed to love doing the "make a face" craft that Hadley's Aunt Shani gave her.

During their coloring, they started talking about their favorite animals. Hadley asked me what my favorite animal is. I said, "Uhhhh, giraffe?" She said, "I don't think you like giraffes because they don't have a voice." And that was the end of that conversation.

They worked on puzzles together.

Hadley was pointing out the states she knew. Her first one was North Carolina. "This is where my Uncle Geoff and Aunt Kellee live. Uncle Geoff has black hair and it's really straight." Hadley is obsessed with straight hair, so saying someone has straight hair is a high compliment.....so way to go, Geoff!

Hadley's friend asked which state is California. Hadley said, "I don't know. The only states I know are North Carolina, Chicago, and Michigan." So I pointed out where California is.

They also played "Go Fish."

At one point, Hadley's friend looked at me with a kind of surprised look on her face and said, "I really like it here! I'd like to come back!" Hadley said, "My mom's name is Callie." Hadley's friend looked at me for awhile and said, "I think I'll call her Caffeine."

Works for me.

Harper slept for most of the time, but when she woke up the girls were playing doctor so she got to be the patient.

Nobody was happy to see the playdate come to an end, but there weren't too many tears so I'd call that a success.

My Daughter is the Mouse King

2010-12-13T21:22:00.000-05:00

Hadley's last ballet class was on Wednesday. Usually the parents are told to sit outside of the room due to kids being distracted by their moms in the gym, but today we were invited in. We all thought this was pretty funny since for the last six weeks we had our hands and faces pressed up against the windows trying to get a peek at what was going on. I'm sure this drove the instructor insane, especially since every time Hadley saw me, she'd say, "HI MOMMA!!!!" and then all the other kids would look to see if her mom was looking too, and then all the moms would get in trouble because, well, we WERE looking. Harper was no help, either. Every time she saw her, she'd scream, "THERE'S HADWEE!!! THERE SHE IS! HI HADWEE!!!" And then she'd knock on the glass.

I'm pretty sure for the last six weeks, I was every teacher's nightmare. And you know what? I don't feel bad at all.

Well. On the class that I was allowed to watch, the ballerinas acted out the Nutcracker. The teacher read parts for the story, and then the girls would dance that part. It was a pretty cute idea if I do say so myself. Hadley got to be the Mouse King. She got to wear a cape and carry a sword and put on a "mean face." She took it a little too far but it was all in the name of art.

Here are some pictures.
Let's start with this one. Here's one where Hadley's all up in the teacher's face telling her who knows what. It couldn't have been about the Nutcracker because until that day, the child knew nothing about it.

Oh my goodness, I was so embarrassed. The girl is NOT shy.

Shake what your Mama gave ya, girl.

A little "Ring around the Rosy" perhaps.

Look at that form.

Should we break for a look at Harper? Yes? OK. Here's what she was doing.

Watching carefully while eating a snack. Note the Dora shoes. Say what you will about Dora, but the chick got my girl out of the dreaded pink croc like shoes that I thought she'd never leave the house without. For that I am very, very thankful.

Also, how awesome is that hair clip?

She also played with her cow and sheep. In this picture they are racing. Look out.

Looks like Pinocchio was a casuality. Poor guy.

And now we have Hadley as the Mouse King. Check out the cape.

There she goes!

I think in this picture she's killing Clara. Or beating her up, or something like that. It's a bad part in the story is what I'm trying to say.

Here's the ending where the teacher's trying to get them to take a bow. There is so much that I find funny about this picture, I don't know where to begin. Should we start with Hadley? Or how about the girl in the back who's still dancing? Or the teacher? She's taking this so seriously.

Oh, but this one is my favorite. Look how happy.

Like all the other classes I've signed my girls up for, this one has been nothing but a fun time. I know they get paid to do this, but I really appreciate people who give little kids these kinds of experiences. Next month, the girls and I are going to take an arts and crafts class. All three of us. Together. I don't think there will be any fighting in it at all. Hadley's going to be upset that I'm in the room in the first place, and Harper will insist I hold her hand the entire time. It's gonna be splendid.

Morning of Crafts and Cookies

2010-12-09T10:24:00.000-05:00

Yesterday morning the girls and I spent our time together making a couple Christmas crafts, and some cookies.

While the cookies were baking, we worked on making snowmen. Or snow women, however, Hadley specifically told me hers is a snowman because she was going to dance with him.

We made some faces on our guys.

Then we glued cotton balls on him to give him a "snowy" feel.

Some of us wanted to keep coloring.

We also made reindeer. I took a paper towel roll and cut it in two, then cut out some of the cardboard for legs. The girls colored them so they had faces and hooves, and then we went outside to look for antlers (small sticks).
No, I absolutely did not come up with this idea on my own.

I don't know when the day will come when the girls decide I'm the worst craftsgal ever but right now, as far as they're concerned, I'm Martha Stewart. So I'm enjoying it while I can.

The cookies turned out to be a mild disaster. I told the girls we were going to decorate them, but apparently decorate means "eat." I put a platter of cookies on the table, walked away to get the frosting and sprinkles, and Harper had helped herself to three by the time I got back.

Don't mind if I do.

I'm so happy!

Frosting? Best. Invention. Ever.

Merry Christmas to me.

Hadley liked them, too.

One Giant Step for Callie

2010-12-08T06:42:00.000-05:00

This is a picture taken from our car yesterday. I drove one of Hadley's preschool classmates home from school. This little girl and Hadley seem to be good buddies. We hear about her a lot at home. The other day, Hadley made her an "everything" card. I'm not sure what that is, but we sent it to school with Hadley so she could give it to her.

The ride was pretty uneventful. Nothing stressful or crazy or anything like that happened. But I wanted to take a picture of it because it was a moment where I felt complete happiness that I get to be a mom. You can see how happy the girls are in the picture, and maybe that's part of it. The conversation on the ride home was so funny. First, Hadley was yelling at her friend as though she was across the street. I think since she couldn't completely turn around, Hadley figured she needed to talk really loudly so she would hear her. Second, it was like trying to follow a ball in a pin ball game. Hadley and her friend were talking about what shows they liked to watch. Hadley's friend said a show called "Maggie" was her favorite. Hadley says, "There's a Maggie at Children's Worship at my church!" Harper wanted to get in on this too and for the duration of the ride would ask, "Do you like my Dora shoes?"

I just got to sit back and listen to it. Maybe that's where part of the happiness came from: the fact that I wasn't the one who had to follow these trains of thought and try and contribute to a conversation that I have no clue what it's about. I love spending time with my girls, but it can be really tiring breaking up fights, or playing a game when the rules constantly change, or constantly reminding one of them to make sure the toilet paper goes in the toilet.

But I think the other part of my happiness came from being an invisible spectator into an experience of my children's lives. I got to see for a few minutes, what they can do without me guiding them. I got to listen to my children's beautiful voices without concern for what comes next.

I like to make sure things are in order. I like routines and schedules. I probably like these things too much, but it's the way I manage my life. There is joy for me in a well thought out plan, and where my children are involved, my need for order multiplies. But I can't plan for moments like this, just like I can't plan for moments when the three of us take a late night trip to the ER because of a busted lip. I don't think knowing that will make me any less passionate about being organized. But being in the car with three little girls yesterday was a nice reminder of what grace is all about. I don't like to sound trite or hallmark-y, but looking at this picture and thinking back on this small portion of our day together I see God's grace. It's kind of like He tapped me on the shoulder while I was driving and said, "Hey! HEY! You don't have to do anything but drive right now. And how hysterical is the stuff that's going on in the back seat?"