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!