Skipping Town

Last Saturday, we set out for a new adventure: our first road trip with Lucia and Greta. Andrew and I took many a road trip in our pre-children days, tooling around Spain and California, taking the long way, going off the map, pulling into small, newly discovered towns and worrying about a hotel only at the last minute; or finding great luxury rooms in San Francisco through Priceline or Hotwire, not caring where we stayed. We took a few short road trips with Lucia when she was a few months old, to San Francisco and wine country; and of course we've driven to Connellsville and up to New Hampshire. But sixteen hours from New Jersey to Jacksonville was taking our family road trips to a new level. We planned the trip from necessity--four holiday-season plane tickets and mountains of presents made flying unrealistic--and really didn't know what to expect. Andrew took command of the itinerary and planned our route down I-95, and in a rented SUV (our small station wagon wouldn't...

Dear Baby Grets, Oh, but you love being two. You've embraced it. You revel in it. The power of no! The power of your own will! It's intoxicating. You have learned that you can assert yourself and your whims in this family with just as much force as anyone else, and there's no going back. Your worst fits are triggered by having to put on your clothes, socks, shoes, and coat. You also don't like to be told no, or to give up something you want to hold onto, or to stop doing something you want to do. You have learned exactly how to enrage Lucia--grabbing her stuff and running away with it and refusing to give it back. When you're particularly angry, you don't just yell "No"--you scream it at an ear-splitting pitch and volume. If there were ever any considerations of a third child (there have not been), your two-ness would have squashed it expediently. After you are done with all this, we will be free of age two forever! All this said, you are also co...

Dear Lulu, ***Note: For the first time in four years, I'm going to combine two months of letters into one. I wrote your 50 Month letter last month, and forgot to post it; and now here we are, past time for Month 51, and I've missed this one too. It's New Year's Eve, and for the sake of finishing off the year all caught up with blogging, I'm going to just post a two-month post. Forgive me...*** As I've said before, being four years old seems to suit you. You can do more and more things on your own all the time--from getting dressed entirely to putting on your boots and coat to retrieving your scooter from the basement and carrying it upstairs. The house is your domain: you traverse it from top to bottom, from attic to basement, embracing the various activities you do in each room. Your bedroom: stacks of tiny cubes, elaborate games with your many princesses. The basement: riding your scooter, crawling through the tunnel-and-hut setup, coloring, doing art proj...

It's been busy busy busy around here the past few weeks, but we've been having lots of fun with the holidays. We went to Connellsville for Thanksgiving, driving during the day both there and back, and Lucia and Greta were superb travelers--playing together, playing with toys (especially their Magiclip princesses and small Gingerbread Girls). We had a great week--Andrew and I got to have some shopping getaways; and we had a night out at Lynn's Bar with Molly. Lucia and Greta loved playing with Luca. Neither girl ate more than a bite of Thanksgiving dinner. We also did our Christmas celebration, since Andrew and I will be in Florida for Christmas this year. The highlight, as always, was our homemade gifts. Molly made dot-painted boxes filled with recipe cards of the best recipes she made this year; for Lucia and Greta, she made boxes of elf donuts from Cheerios; Mom and Dad created a photo book with detailed, photographed instructions on making scrippelles; and I made tin...

Dear Little Grets, This later is late, and I have only you to blame, little one. This is just a fact of life right now: you are taxing. You take all our energy and then some. Most nights the last thing I can think about is writing a blog post. You have fully embraced Being Two, and we've entered a stage where everything--each piece of daily life--is a challenge. The hardest things are changing your diaper, putting on your clothes, putting on your socks, putting on your shoes, putting on your coat, getting you into your car seat. Unfortunately, these are all the things we have to do pretty much on a daily basis--usually more than once a day. This might be the winter that we just never leave the house. You're also getting frustrated with talking. You know so many words, and are putting two and three together--but you are more or less unintelligible. The three of us--Daddy, me, and Lucia--understand almost everything, but occasionally you stump us, and this makes you very angr...

The kids in Lucia's preschool class were asked recently what they were thankful for; the teacher wrote each of their answers on a sheet of paper, which each kid then decorated. Lucia's read, "I am thankful for giving my sister hugs and for my daddy. Especially when he comes home from a trip." Isn't that too cute? Andrew was on a business trip last week, gone for five days to California, so the week without Daddy must have been either in progress or fresh in her mind. I'm thankful when Andrew gets back from a trip, too. It was a long week, but we managed, really fraying only at the very end of Friday, when we'd expected Andrew to get home earlier than he actually did and we were all just tired and ready for things to be back to normal. The hardest part of being alone for this long stretches of time was just taking care of myself--showering, getting dressed, getting my contacts in. The days themselves--this time, at least--went along pretty smoothly, hel...

Dear Rapunzel, You are deep into Disney Princess World these days. You've loved the princesses for a long time now, but ever since your birthday, your love has grown--thanks, of course, to the deluge of princesses you received as gifts. Your very favorite princess right now is Rapunzel, and your Barbie-like Rapunzel doll is your constant companion. You sometimes refer to yourself as Rapunzel as well. Ariel, your prior favorite, has been supplanted for now. You love the Disney Princess books Daddy purchased for the iPad--the books are read to you, with accompanying music, and you turn to these immediately when you get to use the iPad after Quiet Time. You are pretty delightful these days, with funny dances and observations, and you chatter nonstop. Just nonstop. You talk to me, to Greta, to Daddy, to your toys, to yourself. You are incredibly bossy; nothing frustrates you more than when Greta refuses to do what you want her to. You are generally tolerant of Greta's ever-inte...

With the girls newly four and newly two, we’ve been seeing a lot of sudden changes. Lucia, all of a sudden, has learned to undress and dress herself entirely, whereas for the past few months she’s been able to do only socks, underwear, and pants. She’d been having problems with getting shirts on and off—and then two weeks ago, it just clicked. Greta can now officially jump, with both feet off the ground. She’s also learned what it means to “pout,” which she does a great deal, stomping off and crossing her arms and lowering her chin, looking up only enough to make sure we’re watching her. Now, if I say, “Greta, are you pouting?” she’ll cross her arms in a mock-pout, then grin and giggle. The sisterly silliness in our house knows no bounds these days. There was a long and frustrating spell of stealing and grabbing, but we’re back to happy playing now. Lucia often falls into hysterics at Greta’s wild dancing, which erupts at any hint of music at all, whether it’s music from a CD ...

We had a very full Halloween this year, lots of fun without all the no-electricity drama of Hurricane Sandy. The day began with Lucia's Halloween party at preschool. Andrew was able to stay home from work today, so while Lucia did Halloween crafts and performance preparations with her class, Andrew, Greta, and I went to Greta's music class. (Greta seemed to like having Andrew there, and mildly enjoyed class.) Then we all returned to preschool, where I put Greta into her costume. We gathered with the other parents for the children's Halloween performance--a costume parade and then a selection of Halloween songs. Lucia was in Halloween heaven. She loved spotting us in the audience and waved and grinned during the parade around the gym. She sang all the songs and did all the movements. Each kid's costume was called out for recognition, and Lucia stood up and waved enthusiastically when Butterfly was announced. Afterwards, there were lots of snacks, and then time to ride bi...

We spent this weekend in New Hampshire, our final trip until the house opens next May. It was, to be honest, not a wholly successful trip. We were supposed to go Thursday afternoon but couldn't leave until Friday because of a last-minute work obligation for Andrew, which meant I had to unpack and then repack most of the hundred or so bags a weekend trip requires. The drive on Friday was long, and then, when we got there around 4pm, we discovered that the heat wasn't working. The temperature was in the low thirties. The house was freezing. We drove into town for dinner at the pizza place (thrilling the girls, who love the arcade room) and bought two space heaters. When we got back to the house, bedtime now, Andrew and his dad plugged in the heaters--and promptly blew a fuse that they then couldn't find. I had to get the insanely wound-up kids into their ten layers of pjs in the darkness, lit only by their mushroom nightlights. They were beside themselves, jumping on the beds...

Dear Grets, Happy, happy second birthday, little banana! You are two. You seemed more or less unaware of today's momentous milestone, though you enjoyed opening your gifts. We were in New Hampshire for your birthday, with Bobby. You've been preparing to be two for a while now, with your strong will and fondness for crossing your arms defiantly, staring at us out of the corner of your eye to make sure we see you pouting. Even at your most stubborn, you are still adorable; you don't hesitate to assert yourself and express your intentions and opinions. You like to nod and shake your head when we ask you questions. You still shout "YEAH" as an affirmative response, too. You are trying desperately to talk and are gaining more words and putting them together; you still stick to one syllable, however. "More chee plee!" is easy to understand; "Whee no? Whee no?"--"I don't know where Lambie is!"--is code to everyone but us. You'v...

It struck me this week as I was driving to Target with the girls that life with Lucia is what it must be like for Andrew to live with me at my most exasperated/dramatic. On the way to Target, we encountered some minor road work, and we were directed on a brief detour to circumvent the closed section of road. Lucia and Greta were calm and happy in the back seat. "Road work," I observed mildly. "Here we go on a detour." "A DETOUR?" Lucia wailed. "It's fine. We're just going up this road." "WHERE ARE WE GOING? WE DON'T KNOW WHERE WE ARE! WE DON'T KNOW HOW TO GET THERE !" "Yes we do. We just have to turn here." "BUT ROAD WORK!! THE ROAD IS CLOSED! WE CAN'T GO ON IT! " "Lucia, it's fine now. We're back on the right street." "BUT WE'RE GOING TO BE LATE!!" It's too, too funny to hear my own words coming out of my child's mouth.

Dear Lulu, Happy, happy birthday! You were so excited about turning four today. You eagerly anticipated your birthday this year and exclaimed throughout the day, "I'm four!" Daddy worked from home today, and we had a nice day just hanging out here. You opened presents this morning and loved the things we got you, especially a set of Disney Princess Magiclip dolls--four little princesses with dresses that you can change. You also got three mermaids (Ariel and her sisters) for the bathtub, glow-in-the-dark stars for your ceiling, a Hello Kitty holding a cupcake, two nightgowns, and a doll bed with a cupcake comforter that matches yours (I made it last night). Aunt Katherine's gift of the Little Mermaid DVD was here for you and Greta as well, and we watched it tonight, after a day of playing with princesses. After dinner we turned out the lights and lit four candles on a (store-bought) cake, sang Happy Birthday, then all had some cake before bedtime. A fun day all arou...

This Saturday we went apple picking at an orchard about half an hour from our house. It was a beautiful fall day, and the girls were thrilled to see bins of gourds, a pumpkin patch, shelves of Indian corn, and other seasonal treasures. There were lots of farm animals to greet and watch as well. It was a lovely morning. On Sunday, we went to a birthday party where Ariel made an appearance. She put princess dresses on all the kids (pirate costumes for the boys) and painted their faces. Lucia hung back at first--but then she overcame her reluctance, even sitting next to Ariel and surreptitiously touching her sparkly mermaid outfit. They loved it, though Greta lost interest after a while and wandered into the playroom in her Snow White getup.

Dear Greta Banana, Two is just around the corner, and you're changing in ways that continue to surprise me. All along you've been brave and bold, outgoing and cheerful, always eager to greet strangers and run into the mix. Over the past couple of weeks, however, you've exhibited a new caution, even shyness. You and I are doing a Music Together class once a week while Lucia's in preschool, and when I signed you up I felt confident that you'd love it--you sing and dance constantly; any snippet of music compels you to bend and bounce. And yet last week, and this week, you cuddled in my lap during class, even hanging around my neck and burying your face in my shoulder. You seem unnerved by the whole thing--yet as soon as class is over, your usual self returns, and you wave and say "Bye!" to the teacher and other kids. I suspect this is partly your age--this new hesitation--and partly the fact that you've never done anything without Lucia. You are used ...

Dear Lulu, Almost-four is a funny time. Every day you seem to get more grown up, chattering away and getting wrapped up in whatever game you’ve imagined. You’re picking up funny phrases now, from me and Daddy and from TV shows. “Mama, here’s the deal,” you’re fond of saying, or, “But the point is…” Today you enjoyed yelling “What the heck?!” at the top of your lungs for no discernible reason. You also frequently sigh in exasperation when we’re trying to get you to do something and say condescendingly, “DADdy, I’m just doing my job. ” You are a total girly-girl. You love dresses, and dressing up, and wands and tiaras. You pick out your clothes on your own each day. Your all-time favorite activity right now is painting your nails, and Greta’s nails, with Disney Princess nail polishes. It washes off with soap and water, so often you’ll paint your nails five times a day. You started your second year of preschool this month, and so far you’re thriving. The class is large, but...