A Conversation in the car

On the way home from school today while listening to NPR's "Science Friday:"

Me: Canyon, did you know that they're talking about science.

Canyon: (who currently wants to be a scientist who studies Antarctica) What's science?

Me: It's what scientists study.

Alice: Mommy, that's potty talk.

Me: (as if I, myself, am 2 1/2) No it's not.

Canyon: Oh.

State of Mind

Things are looking good. Homework is done, baths are had and....drumroll please....Alice POOPED IN THE POTTY!!!
Better yet, she did it without my knowledge, completely on her own, and then promptly asked if we could call Aunt Sadie/Cinderella. So--there you go.

Conspiracy

So this hasn’t been the first time, and I’m pretty sure that it won’t be the last…but I think the little girls have developed a pact. Jane is at the age where if she isn’t endangering her life in some way, she’s just a whiney little stinker pants (case in point: this morning I caught her in the shower just as she was taking the plastic guard off my razor and putting it in her mouth—you know, those kinds of things). Another BIG problem is that she runs for the toilet any chance she gets. Therefore, we have a rule in our house that you have to flush (I know, we're callous and unfeeling), close the lid, and—for extra measure—close the bathroom door. However, Alice and Canyon aren’t always the best with this…so I spend every waking moment checking on the status of the toilet.

I think the girls got together and worked a deal around these insipid “rules.” Now, I must, for all your sakes insert a bodily-function-revolting-warning for those with the faint of heart (yes, Dad, this means you). Alice decided to poo on the carpet…just skip the middle man altogether (the middle man being the toilet). Don’t worry, I didn’t let Jane near it. You see where this is going though…we’re going to have to have 24 hour surveillance. However, I think that if Jane actually got a hold of it…she’d probably think twice about putting it in her mouth…at least, I hope so. I don’t know, I think these girls are doing me in.

p.s. THIS IS NOT AN APRIL FOOLS JOKE, so advice would be helpful.

Spring Break?

I know, I know…you’ve all been waiting. Needless to say, Disneyland was great. Alice enjoyed the princesses, Canyon spent a total of four hours on “what was formerly known as Tom Sawyer Island and is now called Pirate’s lair,” Lily went on every ride a dozen times, except ‘Screamin’—despite multiple harassing comments from her dad and uncles, Jane really just liked being outside and taking naps in the stroller and people watching in the lines, I liked the dinner we had at “Club 33”—the secret, exclusive restaurant in Disneyland (mainly because we went sans kids), and Dustin liked getting wet on Splash Mountain and Grizzly run rapids. I’d love to post some of the pictures that we took—but my iphoto needs some housecleaning and I just haven’t done it yet. Just know that we have hundreds of darling pictures of children with characters, on rides, and screaming to go back to the hotel.

We are settling into spring break fairly well, we went to Santa Cruz for a little beach time and froze…Jane and Alice didn’t seem to mind, though, they wouldn’t stay out of the waves for anything. We’re sort of bummed that it’s been so cold here this week, because we’re ready to be out in the SUN. We’re out anyway, it’s just cold, windy, and foggy.

Oh, by the way, Dustin got a jeep. It seats four people and is EXTREMELY practical for our family, you never know when we’ll need to drive off-road with only half of our family.

Disneyland Anticipation

Alice's "Disneyland" The Livermore Public Library

I know, it’s been awhile since I’ve posted and I have lots of excuses…but I don’t want to bore you because I have something much more exciting to talk about: Disneyland. We go to Disneyland once a year and, of course—as with Christmas, the anticipation of the trip is almost as good as the trip itself. I am particularly excited this year because we have one child who will CRAP her pants. And, as many of you who read my blog know, this is no joke. She really will crap her pants at some point (we’re still working on that aspect of potty training). All literal allegations of that sentence aside, and she really is going to FREAK out. Alice or “Alice in Whineyland,” as we lovingly refer to her is at that stage where she believes everything she sees and will absolutely believe that the princesses stationed at Disneyland are the ACTUAL princesses. This will be awesome to watch…so if you’re coming with us, hitch yourself to the Alice wagon.

This trip will also be funny because, up till now, Alice (not remembering the trip last year) actually believes that the Library is Disneyland. No kidding. Every time we drive by or go to the library, she’s like: “There’s Disneyland.” Wow. She’ll be in for a real treat when she sees that the Disneyland is not the Livermore Library (which, in and of itself is a wonderful place) but an actual theme park with castles and rides.

So, even though I just took an enormous blog vacation…I’m taking another. It will be worth it this time, though, because I’ll have this amazingly long and boring travel narrative to get through…and, of course, delightful photos of my darling, intelligent, and extremely well-behaved children. And gosh darn it, I’m going to say to my whiney tired brood, screaming in complete exasperation, as I’ve heard so many parents at Disneyland repeat: “You’re going to have fun, whether you like it or not.”

I'm Stickin' with You.

As a rule, Dustin & I don’t celebrate Valentine’s Day. I think we decided this after we realized that the thoughtfulness of the holiday was really going downhill the more time we were together. On the Valentine’s Day, when we were first dating, Dustin got me flowers. Now, he didn’t just go to the grocery store and get flowers, no he went to a florist…and even then stepped behind the counter to hand pick and practically arrange the bouquet himself. We knew that this phase in our life was over when Lily was about 2 1/2, and he got me some flowers, of which, Lily proudly announced: “We got those from a lady on the side of the road.” So, I guess that I thought Valentine’s Day was over for us…until last year when he got me a road bike. Yep, a road bike. So I decided this year I’d better do something…so here it is:

The Top Ten reasons I’m Stickin’ with Dustin:

Ten: He has an uncharacteristically really funny laugh.
Nine: Even though he’s dyslexic, he’s great at reading to the kids (unless it’s The Secret Garden, apparently it’s not easy to read a cockney accent).
Eight: He makes the best hot chocolate and Swedish pancakes. (For those of you who don’t know, Swedish pancakes are crepes…Dustin insists on calling them Swedish pancakes.)
Seven: He’s exceptionally good at designing and building homes.
Six: He brushes his teeth for, not an exaggeration, at least five minutes every night.
Five: He loves babies and is pretty good at making them.
Four: The only sport that he watches on TV is the tour de France…which, thank goodness, is seasonal—so I pretty much have his undivided attention for at least 11 months out of the year.
Three: He will only take me to movies that will make me physically ill during the inevitable “artistically shot” action sequence--a.k.a. “some guy with a camera running around following the actors, jumping off of buildings, and—for extra measure—shaking the camera ferociously.” Case in point: Bourne Identity, Bourne Supremacy, and Bourne Ultimatum (no kidding, in one of them…I had to leave the theater during some really long car chase scene…in my defense, I was pregnant and we were sitting on the FRONT row).
Two: He makes sure that he turns his shirts right-side-out before he puts them in the laundry—so that I don’t have to as I’m folding.
One: He takes care of us with all of his heart and all of his soul…and we LOVE him for that.

So, for what it’s worth, Happy Valentine’s Day.

I know, it’s not a road bike.

Nice Enough

Lily on incriminating bed.



I am a terrible mother. I did something, in my absolute darkest hour, housecleaning day, in complete desperation and pity (for myself). On Saturdays we clean the house. The idea is that EVERYONE participates--which they do, however…let’s be honest…I’m doing a HUGE BULK of the work, and sometimes, feeling very sorry for myself. So this Saturday I gave the kids their choirs, which involved vacuuming the downstairs and clean-up of their rooms. They insisted they were done and happily crossed the street to play tennis (our neighbors have a tennis court that we have readily adopted as our own). I checked downstairs and, horror of horrors, everything was pushed underneath their beds. When they came home I told them, not politely, that THIS WAS UNACCEPTABLE! Again, feeling sorry for myself and the cleaning that I was STILL doing.

I thought about this later and thought about how mean this actually was. I mean, they’re kids and they helped as well as they could. It reminded me of when we were kids…when we did our chores we earned “nice enoughs.” Which was our family monetary exchange that we could then turn around to buy things from our family store. But, it’s not the store that was so great it was the name of the money, “nice enough.” It was like mom saying, “Well, I probably could have done it better, but it’s done, and you’re learning about responsibility, and—quite frankly—it’s nice enough.” So, even though I may not have little monies printed out, next time we do chores, I’m going to politely excuse them to play as I tell them that it’s “nice enough.” Thanks Nana Dona for being a PERFECT mom.