Musical Discord

Josh Grobin's Christmas CD has finally returned to our listening repertoire these past few days. Each time we listen to it, everything turns positively lovely in our house. Hannah flutters around the living room to Josh's majestic Glorias and Ave Marias. Adelaide climbs up in my lap and snuggles in as he sings "Silent Night," and I even say a few Hallelujahs of my own as our little world becomes a picture of peace.

But ... then Jeff comes home, and the magical trance is instantly shattered. ;)

"UGH! Not that whiny Josh guy again," he moans even before taking his coat off.

It's no secret Jeff doesn't fully appreciate Josh. When I was pregnant with Hannah and felt her kick for the first time while listening to Josh's "Oh, Holy Night," Jeff argued it was only because I was blaring the song too loud and she was simply trying to get away from "all that racket." His disgust for Josh's music is really apparent when we're all in the car together and Hannah asks for her favorite song (which is one of Josh's). Ten seconds into it, and Jeff is all but clawing at the window like a caged animal.

"You can't even understand what he's saying - he's just moaning!"
"Umm ... that would be because this song is in Latin."
(more groaning by Jeff)

Music is an age-old battle in our house. I have always tried to flood the girls with what I think is quality music, and Jeff wants to drown the girls in selections from Tool, Metallica and other jarring selections. One would think that since the girls spend more time with me, their tastes would reflect mine. Yet, I still find myself in sticky situations when Hannah starts reciting Aerosmith lyrics, and Adelaide can shake that tiny little booty of hers to Cowboy Mouth like nobody's business.

Oddly enough, when it comes to real children's music, Jeff has more patience for it than I do. I can take the Wiggles, Justin Roberts and a few others in small doses, but Jeff will turn to musical groups made up of all children and listen to it with the girls for what seems like hours. I last a mere 5 minutes before I remember I needed to start laundry or scrub a toilet.

So where does this leave Hannah and Adelaide in all of this musical mishmash? Well, the girls and I have officially become Closet Josh Lovers. If we're listening to him right before Jeff comes home from work, Hannah will drop whatever she's doing and sprint to the stereo to turn it off at the first sound of the garage door opening. And now that the cold weather doesn't allow us to go outside very much, dancing has become our No. 1 pastime after dinner each night ... and even I have to admit, Aerosmith has one funky beat! And I can't help but like them when they cause the girls to giggle so much!

So if you know of any fun (but still tasteful!) bands out there that we might all be able to agree on, let me know! It looks like it may be another long winter filled with a medley of musical disputes!

Hannah Votes!

I took Hannah and Addi with me to vote today (despite the fact that I swore I would never vote again due to being called to Jury Duty next week) and it put voting for elections in a whole new light.

Our ballots, when viewed by a 3-year-old, are rather dull looking.

"Mommy, the names all look the same. How do you know which person to vote for? None of them have fancy writing."

Maybe she's onto something. Campaign managers should lobby to allow their candidates' names being written in glitter on the ballot to glam it up a bit. They'd get Hannah's vote!

"Mommy, what color of marker are you going to use to color in the circles? Why don't they have more colors than black? Can I draw on that piece of paper?"

On the way out, she told one of the election judges they needed to go to the store. "You only have black markers left!"

It also takes entirely too long to vote for all those positions.

"Mommy ... you already filled in a circle. Let's go get our sticker. I'm done already."

In the end, Hannah grudgingly used the monotonous black pen to fill in the circle next to Candidate H on the kid's ballot. She was relieved her ballot was at least printed on yellow paper. Still no glitter, but at least there was color!

The Bright Side of an Ear Infection

It dawned on me that Daylight Savings Time is just around the corner, and if things kept moving in the direction they have been lately, the girls would never be awake to see Jeff Monday through Friday. As it is, they have an early bedtime of 7 or 7:30, but there are days when we can barely make it to 6:30. No matter what we do to try to push it back, the girls push harder. Neither one of them is a fan of sleeping in, and we already fall FAR short of those stats on how many hours of sleep each one is supposed to get according to their age, so we just take what we can get.

But just when I had given up hope, Addi got an ear infection. While I was cursing the fact that my baby was sick, the sugar from her antibiotics and pain relievers sends her running laps around our kitchen at 8:30 at night!

What's more, the ear infection may have actually gotten two birds with one stone. Verdict's still out, but as of tonight, she doesn't want to nurse, so we may have pushed back bedtime AND weened all at the same time! As for Hannah, she will be an easy one to keep up later. If she knows Addi is awake, there's not a force in the world strong enough to make her go to bed first!

Even an ear infection can be positive!

Fire Safety Lessons from Hannah

It was Fire Safety Week at Hannah's nursery school last week. From songs about how you need to "stop, drop and roll," to art projects centered on fire safety, they covered it all, apparently. They ended the week with a visit from a local fire fighter, who let them climb aboard the truck, try on some gear, etc. John the Fireman even proclaimed all the kids Smoke Detector Inspectors, complete with a shiny gold sticker badge. The sticker was the highlight of Hannah's day! But it wasn't until today that I realized just how serious Hannah took her new job title.

I was getting ready to start lunch, but wasn't at the stove for more than 30 seconds before Hannah jumps up and runs over to me and begins the following conversation at a very loud decibel level.

H: MA MA, WATCH OUT! WATCH OUT!

Me: (gasp!) WHAT? What's wrong, Hannah?!

H: WATCH OUT, WATCH OUT - FIRE, FIRE!

Me: Oh Dear God!

(lots of arm flailing done by me)

Me: Wait ... what? Hannah, what are you talking about?

H: FIRE, FIRE!

Me: Hannah, there is no fire - please stop yelling!

H: But I'm a smoke defector ... FIRE! FIRE!

Me: (suppressed giggle) Do you mean a Smoke Detector Inspector?

H: That's what I said, Mom.

(brief pause as she seemingly scans the premises - looking for something. Anything. Then, suddenly ...)

H: WATCH OUT, WATCH OUT!!

Me: Hannah, you have got to stop yelling. There isn't even any smoke. Well, not yet anyway.

H: But you're cooking, Ma Ma!

(Now ... being that she's only 3 and may not completely understand what she's implying with that comment, I let it slide. Or maybe she did know what she was saying! Either way, I chose the high road ...)

Me: Hannah, there is no fire. The stove is hot, you're right. But there is no fire. It's OK ...

I was cut off. Hannah pulled me away from the stove with all her might and blurted out:

JUST STOP DROP AND ROLL, MA MA!!!

I'm trying not to take it personally! :)

Arithmetic for Babies

3 minus 1 does not equal 5. It also does not equal 6, or 7 or 8 for that matter.

I've been trying to explain this magical equation to Adelaide in hopes that we can cut back on the number of times she nurses a day. But, apparently subtraction is a bit too advanced for an 11-month-old. So rather than simply subtracting the afternoon time, she thinks we should add 3 or 4 more times in the middle of the night to help bring the answer back to its original sum. Can you say backfire? :)

But we are having some rather wild and crazy afternoons in an effort to distract her. I have learned that it's best not to sit down with her from 11:30 a.m. to 7 p.m., or she rears back so she's lying down in my lap and starts flailing about so I am forced to pull her in close so she doesn't fall. Lesson #1: Close proximity = bad idea.

Her determination is admirable, however. She has begun to pick up a flare for drama, thanks to her older sister, so if she falls down or I take a toy out of her mouth, Adelaide can stick out her lip and have her eyes brimming with tears before she's even turned around to look at you. Yesterday, she thought she'd try throwing herself on the floor and burying her head in her hands while weeping. She was so convincing, I think she had Hannah taking notes. Lesson #2: Two dramatic girls in one house = one exhausted mom.

Needless to say, our household needs to work on our math. Addition is apparently easier than subtraction, for there are days when 3-1 = 4 and others when 3-1 = 7. But mostly, 3-1 = 3. Those studies you hear on the news about math scores dropping across the country must start at such an early age. It has to be her teachers, like all those well-informed parents tell Anderson Cooper or Amelia Santaniello. Oh wait ... I can't use that excuse yet! :)

Alas, she's due to wake up from her nap any moment now, so the art of distraction is about to begin. I wonder what equation we'll come up with today!

School Isn't for Mommies

We have learned a lot of new things these first couple days of nursery school: running isn't allowed, there is another girl named Hannah in her class, hopping on one foot isn't a prerequisite like Hannah thought it should be, and they have these very yummy snacks called donut holes - "and some are sprinkled with sugar, Ma Ma!" :)

However the most important lesson Hannah has learned, is that mommies and daddies don't come to school. This was something we talked about in depth (for both of our sakes!), but I think Hannah must have thought it only applied to other children. She, of course, would be exempt!

So on Tuesday, that fateful first day, a chord was played on the piano, and the older kids who attended this school last year began to say goodbye to their parents and take a seat on the rug to begin the day. I looked down at Hannah and she was stiff as a board, leaning slightly to the side so she was able to seek refuge behind my legs, yet keep everyone in her sight at the same time. (As a side note, I should say that I am truly amazed a teacher can play a simple chord on the piano, and upon hearing that chord, the mob of children drop what they are doing and go to sit on the rug quietly. Is it a magic piano? Does it release some sort of neuron gas that forces children to be cooperative? But most importantly ... why doesn't my piano work like that?!)

I took Hannah's hand and guided her to the rug, telling her she was going to have SO much fun ... bla ... bla ... bla. But Hannah wasn't listening to me and she could see straight through my blabbering. Her eyes and attention were glued to a little boy who was sobbing uncontrollably a few feet away. His mother had just left the room and a teacher was holding him, trying to comfort him. Hannah turns to me with big, pleading eyes and says,

"Mommy, I just want you to come with me."

I don't remember exactly what I said at this point. What with listening to the little boy's heart-wrenching whimpers and looking at Hannah's lip starting to quiver ... I was on thin ice myself.
Then, out of nowhere, a teacher swooped in, severed the bond between Hannah and I and practically boxed me out in a move that was reminiscent of high school basketball. She flashed a smile as she turned away, pulling my daughter with her, and said she would take it from here and I should join the parents downstairs for a quick meeting.

But ... But ...

Jeff started to tug at my sleeve, coaxing me to follow the group of parents walking out the door. But ... But ... I hadn't gotten a chance to tell Hannah I loved her for the 105th time! I didn't have a chance to reiterate for the 96th time that she was not to leave the building with anyone but me. I didn't get a chance to introduce her to the teacher who had swept her away ... and that makes her a stranger ... which then made me realize I never really finished our "don't talk to strangers" talk with Hannah, and ... oh ... there were just so many things I had to cram into those last few precious seconds of saying goodbye!

It's no wonder children cry when their parents leave! I was ready to shovel 15 life lessons down her throat and top it off with a few kisses and some "I love yous" in 10 seconds or less. Good grief!

But Hannah did great. Her teacher said she stood and watched everyone pretty much the whole time the first day, but by the second day, she had learned how to make stars out of Play-Doh. This apparently gave her just enough confidence to loosen up a bit and have some fun.

So with some extra snuggling and a promise of ice cream pie every night to celebrate, it seems our little girl can fly. Hopping on one foot may not be required as she thought it was, but I told her I thought maybe they saved that for Clown School! :)

A Whole New World - Addi Update

While I'm not about to break out into the Aladdin song with the same title, things are quite different around here, and it definitely makes me want to sing! Adelaide seems to have outgrown most of her intolerances (eggs, possibly soy, and preservatives being the only ones left right now), and she is finally sleeping through the night! Not having to get up 5 times a night and having some decent meals can do a LOT for a person!

Gone are the days spent scouring (and scowling at) recipes for something that could withstand upteen substitutions (not to mention my cooking), and it's been at least a few days since Hannah's put down her fork and said, "Ma Ma, this tastes like bugs," so there must be an improvement! Kudos to my mom for providing several recipes and making food that not only didn't taste like bugs, but was good! She even found and had a grocer order "butter" that had ingredients we could all pronounce, yet was still dairy, soy and preservative free! Who knew?!

Several months ago when it seemed everything under the sun was causing Addi problems, I would often dream about my first meal and all of the indulgences I would have once Addi stopped nursing. But since we've slowly been testing one item at a time and she's been handling it so well, my "one perfect meal" has been replaced with a month's worth of gluttony! Our family rarely eats out, and since December when Addi started having problems, it wasn't even an option. But we've hit the restaurant scene this past month like rock stars! It's been great knowing I don't HAVE to cook all the time!

But the other night when Hannah (who is also a devout ice cream lover) asked why we were having ice cream "again," I realized maybe I was going a bit overboard. But then again ... I have at least 8+ months of catching up to do, so maybe I'll just have to wait until she goes to bed ... then hit the freezer!

Whoooo hoooo!!!!!

Born to Run

Our little Addi is on the run! Perhaps from her sister, or maybe the dog ... maybe even the law someday, although we hope not! But she is moving those two feet of hers faster than anyone can get out of her way. Only her squeals of laughter precede her!

Although, like her older sister, I'm not quite sure it can be considered walking as she does it so quickly. In fact, when people ask when Hannah first started walking, I never really quite know what to say. She went from crawling to running, and at 3 years of age, we're still waiting for the day she starts walking. (the exception being when we need to go someplace in a hurry, and then Hannah can make a snail look fast.)

Between dodging Hannah who's continually flying around and the dog's tail that is at a killer height, it's kind of like watching Addi bounce around like a pin ball machine. But she doesn't seem to mind! On days when her big-butt diapers are in the wash and she's wearing skinny-butt disposables, she looks rather startled when she falls down and there's not 3 inches of padding protecting her, but even then she doesn't protest much. At least she's learned at an early age - you have to be kind of tough in this house to make it!

Now I definitely need to get a new pair of sneakers ...

Just Go, Ma Ma!

The other night, Jeff and I got to have a little date night ... alone ... without the girls! It was very exciting! No laughing - this was a big change for us. The girls come everywhere with us! Healthy or not ... it's just what works for us.

So I'm building it up with Hannah that afternoon about how she gets to go to Auntie Melanie and Uncle Burke's house and have dinner there ... all ... by ... herself! If she were older, I would add, "like OMG!" She immediately started picking out the dress she was going to wear, her necklaces that would adorn her neck, and instructing me on how she wanted her hair to be braided.

SOO not my child. :)

But a little bit of her girliness rubbed off on me, and while she was in quiet time and Addi was napping, I headed upstairs to fancy it up a bit myself. When Hannah came out of her room, she stopped and stared at me, mouth gaping open.

"What's on your eyes, Ma Ma? Why are you wearing earrings? Are you being ... fancy?"

I'm not sure mascara and a ponytail qualifies as fancy, but I didn't want to be even more of a disappointment to her, so I played along.

"It's just some make-up, Honey. I thought I'd get fancy, too!"

"But you're not going to Auntie Melanie's. Just Me and Adelaide. ALL ... BY ... OURSELVES. Not you."

Lest I should forget!

So the hour when Caleb and Melanie come to pick the girls up finally arrives and Hannah barely even turns around to wave goodbye to me. I tried to brush it off by finding the positive: she's getting to be such a big girl. We won't have any issues with nursery school in the fall. Look at her take charge - she'll be a strong leader someday!

But all through the movie, even walking past the storefronts after the movie, my arms felt awkward. They weren't carrying Addi or holding Hannah's hand. They were just ... empty! And they weren't doing anything! I tried putting my hands in my pockets in an effort to give them some sort of purpose. But then I thought if I tripped, the outcome would end very badly! Maybe the problem was that I was walking with a slight tilt as I didn't have Addi's weight holding one side of me down. But then I think I overcompensated and was leaning the other way. Nothing worked - it just felt dumb. Sad, I know! Especially when there are days when having empty arms is all I want!!

Somehow I managed to stumble to the restaurant without tripping over myself, and we sit down next to a table that has about 12-14 people sitting around it. Among them is a cute little girl who is prancing around on her tip toes, showing off a ring she borrowed from her mom on her tiny little finger. Her face was beaming!

She was Hannah with blond hair!

But one look at Jeff told me he didn't see the resemblance. Looking back on it, I think only a delirious mother who had just seen a very sappy movie and obviously needs to get out without her kids more would see any such resemblance! But then the little girl skips over to a little boy, leans over and starts whispering to him about the beautiful ring she is wearing. He looked to be about the same age as Addi.

That was it. I couldn't keep my eyes off of them for the rest of our meal! The mom must have noticed me ogling her children as she practically pulls her chair over to our table and starts chatting with us. Turns out both our kids were just a few weeks apart, and it was all I could do to keep from sweeping her two kids up in my arms!

Needless to say, the girls fared far better than I did on their adventure. Shocking, I know! :) While we were settling down for bed, Hannah and I were snuggling, and she turns to me and says,

"Ma Ma. I'm all done snugglin'. Just go."

Ouch. Two points for being blunt!
But I think that girl's on to something! If a little bling and make-up shocks her and I can't even make it a measly few hours without seeing my children in others ... I obviously need to just GO!

Deep Thoughts by Hannah

The girls and I were driving in the car the other day and Hannah decided that being a walking encyclopedia of strange facts would be the best way to entertain us all. Adelaide giggled with every animated gesture Hannah did, and I giggled at every little random factoid she spout out.

"Goats live on mountains, Ma Ma. When I'm bigger - like Marta - I can live on mountains, too."

Glad to see she was setting such lofty goals, but not sure living with goats was every mother's dream.

"Insects have six legs. Except spiders. They have eight. They're anakids."

"Arachnids?" I ask.

"Yes, that's what I said, Ma Ma."

"Hmm. OK"

She rattled off a few other facts from books we've read or discussions we've had, but then she surprised me with one:

"When garbage gets old, it turns into dirt."

It was one of those very proud mom moments that makes you all warm and fuzzy inside.

"Why yes, Hannah, you're right! How did you know that?"

"Mmmm. I don't know, I just did," she said. "But that's kinda silly!"

We hadn't talked about compost with her, so I wasn't sure where she picked that up, but was exceedingly proud of her comprehension nonetheless. Then she followed it up with:

"And when water gets old, it turns into trees. And the sky eats clouds when it gets hungry."

And ... there it went. Poof!
Well, it was good while it lasted!

Would this require a visit from Social Services?

The humidity is melting my brain. That's the only excuse I can come up with right now! We've had a few embarrassing mishaps in our house lately. Surprisingly, they all took place out of the kitchen - go figure!

Perhaps the most mortifying was when Hannah walks through the doors of the library for story time singing Aerosmith lyrics. It was a combination of Dude Looks Like a Lady, and Love In an Elevator. (Highly inappropriate, I know, but she loves Aerosmith, and thankfully most of their lyrics go right over her head at this point.) I was hopeful since Hannah sings rather off tune and it was a mixture of the two songs, it would throw anyone within earshot. But, since she has sung this beautiful medley in front of the same librarian twice now, I wasn't so lucky. All I could do was shrug and say, "I only have her father to blame." :)

The next mishap took place at the park. Hannah wanted to ride her trike to the park the other day, and since her steering was getting better (although it really couldn't get any worse!), I thought I could handle pushing Addi in a stroller and use myself and the stroller as a guard rail to keep Hannah's trike out of the middle of the road. My mistake was adding our lug of a dog to the mix - Penny pulls as if she's running the Iditarod, and all is lost if she spots a squirrel or rabbit! But hindsight is 20/20 ... at the beginning of the journey, none of these things were raising red flags. Afterall, how hard could it be - a walk in the park, right? So we set off and all was going smoothly. We made it to the park, and Hannah picked up speed in her excitement. Right before you get to this particular park, you have to make a 90 degree turn and the trail slopes downhill ever so slightly. So I'm coaching Hannah from a few feet behind and telling her to make sure to steer when the trail turns and to keep her eyes on the trail ... don't look at the dog ... look where you're going ... Hannah, don't look at the dog, yes she is cute ... Hannah, look where you're going, good job ... no, I don't know the dog's name ... focus on turning ... you got it ... Hannah you need to slow down now ... Hannah slow down ... Hannah ... HANNAH ... OH DEAR GOD ... STOP PEDALING ... NO, I mean keep your feet on your pedals, but SLOW DOWN! STOP MOVING YOUR FEET!! Oh nuts ... HAAAANNNNAAAAAHHHH!!!

Well, it was over quickly, I'll say that. She handled the turn beautifully, but then went into overdrive down the hill and in her panic (and mine!) lifted her feet up as she was going so fast and sped out of control. I swear she was nearing 20 mpr near the end! Meanwhile, I am sprinting after her while pushing Addi in the stroller (who is giggling, thinking this is the best ride ever!) and Penny is loaping along, but of course trying to go perpendicular to the way we are heading for some reason. It was at this point that I began wondering ... do I let go of the stroller so I may have a prayer of catching Hannah and prevent the nasty road rash that will surely be coming? There's a 5-point-harness on the stroller afterall. No. That would be bad. Dang ... Who's idea was this anyway?!

And then Hannah fell. By the time I got to her - the silent scream had turned ... well, not so silent. And those who hadn't already turned to see what all the commotion leading up to this point was about now turned to look at the deranged mother who had let her daughter go barreling downhill while running after her screaming like a crazy woman. Not our finest hour. But I am ever so thankful for the good samaritan and her dog. Turns out the dog's name at the top of the curve was Lucy, and she provided the best form of distraction we could have asked for. Without it, we still may be making our way home from the park.

The last mishap is the most shameful. We were at Target, and I had everything we needed wedged around Hannah who was sitting in the front seat while Addi was in her car seat in the main cart compartment. (In case you can't picture it, this leaves very little room for anything other than cute girls in the cart!) Things were going smoothly as Hannah hadn't started complaining about the frozen bag of broccoli making "her leggies cold" yet, so I thought I'd chance it and check out the plastic storage bin section. Thrilled that I not only found what I needed, but that it was also on sale, I pulled down the 30-gallon bin and stood there facing the girls wondering how I could get this out to the car without making a scene. Hannah could read my thoughts and was instantly worried. "What ya doing, Ma Ma?"

Truth be told, I was trying to figure out if I could balance the bin on top of her baby sister. I could, couldn't I? Granted, Addi would be entombed in blue plastic, but maybe if I upgraded to a clear plastic bin, that would be better. Maybe I wouldn't have to send her to therapy later in life as she would be able to see out. I got as far as lifting the bin up to eyeball the measurement when I noticed a little girl about 7 years old, stopping to stare, mouth gaping open. This was bad. If a 7-year-old knew it was wrong ... someone would surely call Social Services.

Feeling Greatly Outnumbered

When Jeff and I decided to have another baby, I kept asking him ... "what will I do when they run in opposite directions?! There will be two of them and only one of me?!"

Ha! That goes to show just how silly we were - running in opposite directions is the least of our worries at this point! Hannah and Adelaide have officially joined forces, and apparently Jeff and I didn't get the memo, so we are left in the only remaining spot ... the opposing team. While we may have the size advantage, we don't have speed, and we definitely don't have the skills necessary to keep up! Since Addi was born, our girls seem to have an inherent way of knowing what the other one is thinking, and at times it seems as if they use it just to see how gray their mother's hair can turn throughout the course of a day. Call it ESP, sisterly intuition or whatever you want ... whatever it is, Jeff and I are in the dark! Not a day goes by when the girls don't use this to their advantage - and I fear it will only get worse once Addi starts talking. They can conspire on a whole new level at that point!

Recently, however, it has all become rather absurd since the cat and dog have joined forces as well. We keep a box of dog treats on a shelf in the entryway, and I watched as Arthur jumped up on the shelf and Penny simultaneously sat down and started wagging her tail in anticipation. I nudged Jeff to look and said, "Silly dog. She thinks the cat is going to give her a treat!"

A minute later I ended up eating my words.

Arthur proceeded to meticulously open the flaps of the box with his paws, reach his head in and pull out a bone. Arthur is a rather strange cat, so I laughed thinking he was going to eat the dog treat he just helped himself to. Nope! He jumps down from the shelf, prances over to Penny and lays the treat by her feet. Jeff looked at me in amazement, and I looked at him in horror ... for I knew the treat was collateral for helping him escape out the screen door earlier that day, which means Arthur and Penny now have an understanding between them ... and I, am officially doomed.

So now that the furry ones are in cahoots, that makes the official count 4 to 2, or 4 to 1 for the majority of each day. And I was worried about TWO of them running in opposite directions! So if you see a crazed lady lugging a baby while chasing a runaway cat with a toddler and a half-brained coonhound running after her - I'd appreciate a kind thought or two to help even out the score until I catch the damn cat. You can still laugh - I know I would! - but a kind word or even a little prayer would be mighty helpful! It only seems fair!

I'm off to take a shower - worked up a sweat chasing the four of them around today!

Chocolate is Hard to Share

In our house, there are a lot of rules that go out the window when chocolate is involved:

• Enough is enough
• You don't want to overdo it
• The lighter the better, and
• Doubling the amount listed in the recipe is never a good idea
  

Yesterday, Hannah added another rule: When it comes to chocolate ... sharing doesn't apply.

This afternoon we made two batches of brownies. One to bring to the vet for taking such good care of Penny for the 3 days she stayed with them, and one for us. (You can see where she gets this train of thought. Even I can't fathom making just one batch and giving it all away!)

So Hannah mixed up the batch we were going to have for ourselves, and I mixed up the batch for the vet. (Although, due to my lack of cooking skills, we probably should have reversed so the vet got the better one!) Anyway, the entire time we were working on it, Hannah was giddy because she could smell chocolate and kept asking, "Ma ma, will I like brownies?! Are they yummy, because they smell yummy?! Can I eat them now?! How about now?! Now are they done?"

Once they were FINALLY baked and cooled off, she so very proudly carried the pan into the vet clinic and told them with a huge smile on her face that she made these, "and Mommy said they are yummy!" We chatted for a bit, then I asked Hannah to say goodbye and thank you to the staff for taking care of her puppy. Hannah's mouth, which normally runs 100 mph, suddenly stopped short and she stood gaping at the vet techs and our veterinarian, apparently speechless. I looked at her and panicked, thinking she was remembering how Eve got sick and died before we could take her to this vet clinic. Then not long after that, we got Penny, but promptly had to take her to this vet and leave her for 3 days because she was so sick, so I started shooing Hannah out the door explaining that everything is OK, Penny was still at home and she's all better now, etc. But Hannah puts on the brakes just oustide the door and turns to me with the most exasperated look on her face and says, "but MOM ... why are we leaving?!"
"Well, because we just came to drop off the brownies and now it's time to go home. Remember Penny's at home, she's OK now. She's not sick anymore."
"But MOOOMMMMM! The brownies are in THERE!!! We just LEFT them there!"

Now I was the one speechless!

You would have thought the brownies were another child the way she carried on about "just leaving them there!" How neglectful!

Apparently in her mind, we were supposed to stay at the vet and share the brownies with them. Then come home and have the second batch all by ourselves. :) Maybe some of my genes did get passed down to her!

The thing is, Hannah does such a good job of sharing everything else, I didn't see this coming at all. But apparently when it comes to chocolate ... all bets are off!

Our Lucky Penny

We have a new dog in our household - Penny, our Lab/Irish Setter/Mutt of a girl who is simply wonderful! We just happened upon her at the local humane society (while we were "just looking" - HA! Has anyone walked out of there without a pet before??), but we couldn't have asked for a better dog! We think she is around 1-year-old, but she has these gorgeous brown eyes that seem to have already lived a lifetime.

She came with the name Penny, and she's proving the old saying correct more and more each minute about how your luck will change if you pick up a stray penny.

When we were tossing around other name ideas, Hannah chimed in with the name Nonny. As if bringing a dog home isn't fraught with enough emotions in and of itself, this one pulled on the heart strings even further. "Nonny" is Jeff's grandmother figure, but is actually his Great Aunt Ethel. She is by far the sweetest woman I have ever met. She just emanates kindness and compassion and has had such a positive impact on everyone who knows her. We were absolutely thrilled when the girls got to meet Ethel this past weekend while she and Jeff's parents were in town for a funeral, and Hannah hasn't stopped talking about her since. As far as temperament goes, the name Nonny would fit perfectly as Penny is just so full of love and absolutely adores the girls - even with all the eye pokes, hair pulling and strangling hugs that they dole out. But, while it was the highest compliment Hannah could give anyone, we were afraid Ethel may not take to having a dog named after her!

So lucky Penny stuck, and we are enjoying every moment with her! Hannah has woken up in the middle of the night each night since we first saw her she's been so excited about "her puppy." (I'm hoping that can be toned down a bit, actually!)

I wasn't sure we were ready for another dog as it has only been a few months since we lost Eve, but Penny has lifted our spirits more in the past few days than we thought imaginable. Hannah says it best - "It's gonna be a fun day today, Ma Ma!" Hee hee!!!!

Can We Go Out In Public Like This?

Behold the power of fashion!

Up until now, I have intentionally never given Hannah a choice in what she wears, simply because I don't want to have to spend 3 hours each morning arguing over what that is. Yet somehow we've reached that point, and I'm not sure how to turn back!

However, she's not all that particular about what outfit she wears, it just has to be a dress. "I need to be fancy, Ma Ma." She views wearing shorts as a form of cruel punishment and instantly starts negotiating her way out of it. Needless to say, for the past couple of weeks, we have found ourselves at a park, in a sandbox, in a chicken coop, on a boat and a number of other locations that are all worthy of a good pair of shorts ... in girly dresses instead.

Were it not for the fact that she has such a tomboy personality, I'd say she was born in the wrong century as she thinks all girls should wear dresses all the time. In fact, whenever we come back home, all is not right until she gets back into her bright pink, frilly, sparkly, twirling dress. I can see her sigh with relief once she has it on! "I can't dance without my pink dress," she tells me in an exasperated tone!

So our day usually consists of countless wardrobe changes before all is said and done. Mid breakfast, she is horrified that her socks don't match. An hour later, she has to wear ballet slippers, which for whatever reason require a different pink frilly dress from the one she currently has on. Finally, her mean mother makes her put on something that does not contain any tulle or an excessive amount of sequins before leaving the house, and we start the cycle all over again.

All is not lost, however. She knows I don't understand or agree with any of this and her adventures would be cut short if I have to wait for her to change to get out the door. So that girl can whip in and out of outfits in no time, and always puts away her fancy dresses. The only real battles we have revolve around pajamas. "These pants aren't comfortable. I just need a dress - I really do!" she weeps each night.

But being forced to wear pants as pajamas may actually be helping her fall asleep faster because the shame and horror of not wearing a dress is simply more than she can bear. Within seconds of waking up each morning, she opens her closet door, pulls a tote over so she can kneel on top of it, and reaches a dress so the humility can finally come to an end. She comes out of her room wearing a dress (often over her PJs and on backwards) with her hair going every which way and a tangled knot of necklaces around her neck, but she has a smile on her face and her first words each morning are, "Look Ma Ma (as she twirls around) ... I be fancy!"

It truly is a great way to wake up!

Photo: Hannah is wearing two dresses over her pajamas, complete with a stunning array of hair barrettes and necklaces, not to mention sparkly rubber bands substituting as bracelets. I hear it's all the rage in Europe!

Saying Goodbye to Evie

Our 12-year-old dog Eve died rather unexpectedly about a month ago. It's been hard, as she has been with us since the first day we moved into this house 5.5 years ago. But it has been made even harder by the fact that I should have talked about death with Hannah before her beloved Evie passed away. Yet, there never seems to be a good time with a toddler - especially for one who is such a worrier. The overall concept is still lost, I'm afraid.

Even after a month, Hannah still doesn't understand where Eve is and why she hasn't come home yet. Countless times each day, Hannah asks if we can go to the vet to bring Eve home. "She's calling for me - she wants to come home." (I wilt a little more every time she says things like this.) Hannah still sets a place for Eve when starting a board game and continues to pour her a cup of tea for tea parties, then looks up and asks when Eve can come home because she misses playing with her, "and I'm just waiting and waiting for her to take her turn with this game already." Being sad can only last so long when one is so impatient!

So, we buried Eve's ashes in our backyard, hoping some sort of closure could come from it. At my sister's suggestion, we each picked 3 of our favorite things we loved most about Eve. After we managed to focus and stopped picking up all the worms that were dug up, this is our list for the best pet anyone could ask for:

Hannah's:

1. She played chase with me. (Something that had to be learned for Eve - Hannah had to hold a treat in her hand for it to work!)
   
2. She caught the ball in her mouth when I threw it, "even though that's kinda yucky."
3. She loved me lots. (rather egocentric, but nonetheless, it was true!)

Mine:

1. She cleaned up all the crumbs under the table. Something I obviously didn't fully appreciate when she was here. It's a wonder Eve didn't weigh 200 pounds from all the scraps she got!
2. Before we had kids, she would sneak up on Jeff's side of the bed while he was brushing his teeth in hopes of sleeping there for the night. She'd lay perfectly still (it even seemed like she'd hold her breath!) hoping maybe THIS time he wouldn't see her 65-pound self when he came out of the bathroom and make her get down .
3. She and Arthur were the epitome of an old married couple. One couldn't be without the other. Arthur kept Eve from accidentally wandering into trouble, and Eve brought an end to Arthur's wild bachelor days in the alleys and kept him from causing too much mischief.

Jeff's:

1. She LOVED the water.
   
2. She was the perfect height and demeanor when Hannah was learning how to walk to go "dog surfing." Hannah would crawl over to Eve, pull herself up and hang on for dear life as Eve would stand up and start walking/running away trying to get away from those little prying fingers! Wish Addi could have learned to walk the same way.
3. She was a great foot warmer on cold nights when I had to work in the basement.
   

I still think having a pet is one of the best things you can do when raising kids, as the rewards are endless. But losing one has also been one of the hardest. Part of me doesn't want to get another dog simply because I don't think I can go through this again. But the house seems empty, and those crumbs under the table are starting to pile up!
Yin and Yang, I guess.

T-Plus 10 Years. Three Is Practically a Teenager

Hannah turned 3 today - whoo hoo! But with each new birthday, I grow a bit more fearful as it brings us another year closer to the dreaded teenage years. Argh. I'm not sure we'll survive.

OK, maybe I'm overreacting as we still have many years before Hannah and Addi become official teenagers, but there are days when I swear we're already there due to the insanely high amount of drama in this house!

I should try to focus on the positive - if they're teenagers, that means my job as a parent is practically done! Before Jeff and I got married, our only "pre-nuptials" we talked about was how we were going to raise kids. I told him how I just don't do teenagers, and he gave a big sigh of relief and admitted he just doesn't do babies. So, we agreed to swap! I will raise them when they are young, and officially hand over the torch to Jeff when our kids reach the obnoxious age. We both come out of this thinking we get the better part of the deal. Silly Jeff! I'm not sure he counted on having two girls when we made this pact, however! hee hee! :)

But as I watch our 3-year-old daughter grow, I think that torch is already starting to burn a little brighter each day. Jeff may be stepping up sooner than he thinks, yet I can't imagine letting go of the reigns anytime soon. It's gotta be a great ride with this one!! Hannah is so very passionate in everything she does already. Add teenage hormone levels to the mix, and WEEEEEEEEE!!!

However, we already have a taste of the sassy vibes teenagers are such experts at as well. Here are some of the examples from just this week alone (the list would be quite lengthy if it dated any further back!):

"Mommy, you're not listening ... I said I want some chocolate! I said that two times!"

"Daddy, you're sposed (supposed) to say 'excuse me.'"

"Mommy, I was just waiting, and waiting, and waiting for you to come."
"Hannah, I came as soon as you started calling."
"But you were down the hall - that's a long time for me."

As a whining episode was getting into full swing, I asked her why she thought whining would get what she wanted. Her response: "But I like to whine. I like being 'damatic.' (a.k.a. dramatic.)"
If that isn't the understatement of the year! When Jeff came home I asked him if it was possible for 3-year-olds to have PMS. (It was a particularly trying day!)

I don't know why I'm surprised she may be turning into a teenager sooner rather than later - after all, she's already chosen who she'll marry!

Happy birthday Hannah B!!!! We love you more than anything!

The Sounds of Quite Time

We're on week two of substituting Hannah's nap for quiet time, and the circles under our eyes are proof of it. I'm starting to think this may have been one of those ideas that sounded better than it really was. But too late now! Hannah's rolling with it!

During quiet time, she's supposed to do things like read books by herself, listen to books on tape, make beaded necklaces, do imaginative play, etc. Ha! But, it mostly consists of her running in and out of her room updating me on whatever it is she's doing, singing at the top of her lungs any song she knows (and several songs she's made up), or looking out the window trying to get passersby to wave to her. In other words, quiet time is anything but quiet.

I keep thinking one of these days, she'll get it as she so desperately needs a little down time in the afternoon to make it through the evening. Actually, we both do! So, I was thrilled the other day when all of the sudden I noticed the house was quiet. Addi was asleep, but Hannah's quiet time was actually quiet, too. And a few minutes had passed without her bursting through her door announcing, "I be all done with quiet time now, Ma Ma!" She had actually fallen asleep during quiet time! Whoo hoo!

Taking a nap was always something I listed as one of the things she could do during quiet time, but she always insisted she did NOT need a nap and would find "other things to play with - I don't need one. I just like to play, play, play." So when she woke up, I tried to make it into this great thing she had done and didn't she feel better after her nap, etc. But her answer was a tearful, "I not mean to - it was an accident. I don't like to take naps, Ma Ma!"

Now she's moved into the state of denial and doesn't even admit to accidentally falling asleep the other day, and she's working even harder to stay awake this cold, rainy afternoon again.
(sigh)
But I have faith it will get better. It has to, right?! :)

"Cooking" with Kids

It's no secret I despise cooking. In order for any sort of recipe to even be considered being made in this house, it has to stand up to my five rules:

1) No putzying allowed
2) No elaborate ingredient lists
3) Most steps can be done with just one hand (the other hand is generally either holding a baby or entertaining a toddler)
4) No steps can require complete concentration. The words, "stir constantly" is an instant disqualifier
5) Preparation must be able to withstand an indeterminate amount of interruptions lasting anywhere from 30 seconds to a good 20-30 minutes.

How I am related to my mother and all of her culinary expertise is beyond me. She also does math. Maybe I'm adopted.

But I hit a new low the other day. I was craving hot chocolate, so I put some rice milk on the stove and continued playing with the girls in the living room while it warmed up. It was beautiful outside, so we headed out to the deck - leaving the forgotten pot still on the stove. Some time passed, during which our cat was going bananas and neighbors walking by peered up at us with perplexing looks on their faces, but (sadly) this wasn't anything out of the ordinary. Then, every smoke alarm in our house seemed to go off at once. Our security system went off as well - blaring a siren for everyone within a 10-mile radius to hear. I quickly herded the cat out on the deck so he wouldn't go deaf, reassured the kiddos that the end of the world was not coming and headed back in to open more windows. At this point, I wondered how sad it was that I had this routine down to a science. The steps to take care of a smoke alarm seemed automatic. (sigh). Needless to say, we didn't have hot chocolate that day, and we now have one less pot to cook with.

But the worst part was yet to come. Jeff came home 20 minutes later with a smile on his face and asked if we were going out to dinner. "The whole neighborhood smells of burned toast, what happened?" Feeling a bit hurt, I asked why he would automatically assume it was OUR house that was the source of the smell. "Ye of little faith," I told him. He instantly started apologizing, which made me feel even worse, so I told him the truth ... "It wasn't dinner I burned, it was our snack."

[Photo: Making bread with a 3-year old. Here is a typical example of how things turn out in this house. It takes certain skills to mess up bread in a bread machine! If anyone wants to trade these skills for useful ones, let me know!]

"Mommy, I'll Get the Phone!"

Famous last words.

We were all in Adelaide's room the other day when Hannah jumps up and announces that she would get the phone. Hannah can't exactly reach the phone, nor does she know which buttons to push to answer it (one has to be discreet!), so I quickly finished changing Addi and started to walk downstairs to see if I could pick it up before it rolled over to the answering machine. But Hannah had rerouted to our bedroom and picked up the phone on the bedside table - the phone that doesn't ring, but also doesn't have any buttons to push in order to pick up. Eeks! As I hear her asking, "want to come over to our house and play with me?" I ask, "Hannah! Who are you talking to?!"

"Uncle Burke," she answers very nonchalantly and rather annoyed that I am interrupting her very important conversation.

Phew. So she continues to relay the various parts of her morning thus far and asks a few more times if he wants to come over and play, then tells him goodbye. I reach for the phone to see what Burke wanted, but he had already hung up. I hit Caller ID to call him back, but instead of Burke's number, it starts dialing our siding contractor. Uh oh. Our siding contractor is a lovely man, but I doubt he had planned for a 5-minute conversation with a 3-year-old about what she had for breakfast and how there was currently a spider in her room AND in the hallway.
When I did get ahold of him and apologized, he said he had a good laugh and asked if she was jumping up and down while talking about the spiders (which of course she was!) because she sounded out of breath while asking, "Don't you see it, Burke ... he's right there! Ooh, he's moving! See??!!! He's right there ... LOOK!! Where's he goin'? Maybe I follow him."
Maybe she's ahead of her time in thinking we can all see what she sees while talking on the phone!
Oh to be 3!

Spider Hunting

Hannah has a new favorite pastime - spider hunting. While we both tend to be constantly scanning corners and crevices for the creepy crawlies, our reasons couldn't be any more different. Like any normal person, I am on the lookout for them out of fear, while Hannah just wants to get the next game of Spider Hunting started.

I wonder if any of my genes actually got passed down to her, or she just morphed directly from Jeff.

This isn't a game I necessarily disagree with, however. She often does a better job at squashing them than Jeff - who often misses or drops the spider mid air, which sends me jumping around as if the floor itself is on fire until it is found. But when it is 6:15 a.m. and I can hear the garage door closing as Jeff leaves for work, the last thing I want to hear is, "Mommy! I see a spider. LET'S GO SPIDER HUNTING!!!!!"

With Jeff being gone, that leaves only me to play the game with her. And, as luck would have it, spiders tend to lurk in high places, so I get to do the dirty work and hand the kleenex with the squished goods to Hannah so she can dance her way to the bathroom and sacrifice the spider to the Porcelain God.

But she recently changed the rules of this game - never a good thing. "I don't want to flush it, I want to be the spider's mommy," she tells me. Ugh! I can deal with a lot of rather disturbing things - naming and carrying dead ladybugs around on her adventures all day or picking up ants and putting their crushed little bodies in a circle on the driveway so they can have a tea party ... but becoming a spider's mommy was too much. Not knowing how to react, I just yanked the kleenex out of her hand and threw it in the toilet. I couldn't think of anything else to say other than, "Spiders don't need mommies!"

Cue the drama. Perhaps I was a bit too harsh and inadvertently squashed some of her maternal instinct in addition to the spider. Oh well ... what's done is done, and there will not be any harboring of spiders in this house!

Tired of Being Sucked On

Addi is now 6-months old! Whoo hoo! And while that is exciting news all by itself, I can't help but have a selfish thought that this also means that I am that much closer to being done nursing forever! I didn't realize just how much I don't like breastfeeding when Hannah was little, but it has been brought to the forefront this time around, especially when pumping is required. Jeff knows to steer a clear distance from me for at least a half an hour after I pumped because it puts me in the worst mood imaginable. Nursing is one thing - you get to cuddle up with your baby and kiss those hands that reach up to bat at your face as a gentle little reminder that this is her time, and you need to stop talking or doing whatever it is you're doing besides gazing at her. Needless to say, there is no magic moment with a cold plastic pump. And being tied to a plug in the wall - not ideal for anyone, especially a mom.

I am completely behind the health benefits, convenience and cost-effectiveness of breastfeeding, but there just comes a point when you are tired of being sucked on! I recently told my sister that I think that would make a great bumper sticker.

Going into it the second time, I knew I had to change things as I had such horrible memories associated with nursing with Hannah. For instance, I refuse to sit on a toilet in a public restroom and nurse with Addi. And when she wakes up in the middle of the night, I take her into our bed rather than sitting in her room half-undressed and shivering, willing her to hurry. Those two alone have made a tremendous difference on my outlook!

But, I still find myself looking forward to the day when we are done. A grand celebration will be had! There will be cheese, and there will be chocolate. But most of all, there will NOT be boobs!

Hannah Declares She Will Marry "Her" Caleb

Hannah was recently enthralled with my wedding ring, and wanted to "wear it all day and be married." I told her she needs to get bigger before she can get married (at least 50!), and she needs to find someone she loves very much ... and then she can have her own ring and be married.

She thought about that for a minute, then informed me that she would marry Adelaide. "I really love her, Ma Ma," she says. I explained to her that marrying your sister probably wouldn't work so well, but that she'll meet someone someday when she is older, and can decide if she wants to get married then.

Hannah thought about it a little more and asked, "When I be big like My Caleb, Ma Ma? Then I be married?" hmmmm. Size wise, yes ... age wise, no. So I told her she needed to be even bigger than Caleb because even though he is 6'3", his 13 years of wisdom wasn't enough to be married.

The wheels turned a bit longer, then she folded her hands in her lap like her mind was made up and stated that when she got bigger ... and Caleb got bigger ... "we be married!"

With that little bit of business all wrapped up, she hopped down from the kitchen table and turned on some music and started dancing. One of life's major decisions was just checked off her list, and she isn't even 3-years-old yet! I didn't have the heart to tell her that marrying your cousin is generally frowned upon in our culture today as she was so certain that was how things would turn out! And of course who wouldn't want their little girl to marry Caleb!

But it took me back to when I was at my parents' old house sitting at their kitchen table, holding back my own tears, as I had to tell Caleb that I loved him more than anything and would LOVE to marry him if I could, but I just couldn't! Caleb was probably the same age as Hannah is now. We have come full circle!

To Caleb's relief, she has yet to ask for a ring (clearly the only value in being married in her book!), but I think there will be trouble when he starts dating down the road! Watch out - Hannah has staked her claim!