Skipping Town

Greta, at three, talks pretty much nonstop from the minute she wakes up until her little eyes close at night. She does not have to be talking to one of us; she talks to herself, to her toys, to her feet. She often "finds" imaginary tiny animals (monkeys, dolphins, foxes) and scoops them up into her hands, gently, talking to them before "releasing" them. Here is a brief sample of Greta's stream-of-consciousness from lunch today, with a representative amount of whining: "Mmm. Carrots. I love carrots! I don't want any caaarrrrooots. Put them on yoooouuuur plaaaate. Not MY plaaatte!!! Yoooooour plate. Look at me. Look at this. [takes a bite of string cheese]. I take a bite. Look at my trick. Mama, watch me do my trick. [leans over in her chair, lifts a leg into the air] That's my trick. I might fall off my chair. My knee hurts. My finger hurts. My cheek hurts. [laughs hysterically] My cheek hurts--that's silly. Noooooo!! I don't wwaaaant aaaan...

We took the girls to see Frozen on Ice a few weeks ago. We weren't going to; it was expensive and selling out fast; but the more we thought about it, and heard about it, the more we decided we just had to take them. Though their love of all things Frozen had waned a bit over the past couple of months, it hadn't disappeared. And so we bought tickets. And Elsa dresses. And bundled everyone into the car for a 7pm show in Newark. Lucia and Greta were beyond excited. They were so excited about their dresses, and going to a show at bedtime, and going to the huge arena, and seeing the ice rink. They were enthralled from the very first projection of a giant snowflake on the ice. And Disney knows its audience: before Frozen began, out came all the other princesses, ice skating and waving as they passed us. Lucia and Greta waved back eagerly, squealing as each princesses skated out onto the ice. And then--Frozen. They loved it. (Greta loved it until the last ten minutes, when her rapt ...

Baby Grets, Oh, how cute you are right now. I'd forgotten how adorable, how breath-takingly charming, a three-year-old can be. With your unruly hair, tiny bare feet, cheeks still poofy with baby fat, you are still such a little baby, and it's lucky for all of us that you like to be cuddled, because it's hard not to want to snuggle up with you at any opportunity. Of course, every precious, snuggly moment has its twin moment of frustrating independence-asserting; and your new fondness for escalating things to hysteria at every opportunity. You're full of drama, Little Miss. You don't feel things halfway. A casual request ("I want my water") met with a perfectly reasonable denial ("Your water bottle is three flights up; let's get it after we're done eating") becomes, instantly, a hysterical demand ("I WANT MY WATER RIGHT NOWWWWWWWWWWW"!!!!). It's powerful. No one wants a tantrumming Greta. You also know the power of tears, ...

Little Lulu, Magic. That's the only way I can describe the age of five. You turned five, and something just seemed to click--and you're off, into real-kid world. You're so curious, learning so much, doing so many things, capable of so much. Seeking independence, relishing it. Taking pride in the new skills you're learning--putting on and zipping up your coat; writing the letters of the alphabet; honing your skills with scissors, stencilling, tracing. You and Greta are still best friends and constant playmates; but you take care of her, too, and take pride in helping her do things. Greta looks up to you so much. You're a star to her. But I do see you two as further apart right now than you've been so far--not in your relationship, but in your "life stage." You're invested fully in school, having drop-off playdates and birthday parties; capable of working on crafts and art projects on a totally different level than Greta. It's a tricky balanc...

Greta attempts to tell a knock-knock joke.

We got back last night from spending one final long, glorious weekend in New Hampshire. We drove up Wednesday night and had nearly four full days to enjoy the quiet and peacefulness. It was cold this time--truly cold; it even flurried one night. The days were mostly cold and cloudy, and we were able to be outside far less than we'd have liked. We did get in a few nature walks; Lucia stumbled upon our fairy house from last time, still intact, and the girls collected pinecones and other treasures to leave for the fairies for the winter. They also hid in the trees near the pond, pretending to be squirrels and foraging for food for the long, cold winter. The trees were nearly bare of leaves, and whatever was left in the fields was brown and dead. But the cattails were perfect for shredding into snow, and we found many milkweed pods to peel open and scatter. There were no frogs in sight. But mostly we stayed indoors this time, and the girls had no shortage of things to do. We played...

We went to New Hampshire this weekend in honor of Greta's birthday--a short trip, Friday through Sunday, but fun because Andrew's dad joined us. Wasps were once again unwelcome guests, and Friday night, right after the girls went to bed, Lucia called down to us from the top of the stairs for something, put her hand on the railing--and got stung by a wasp that had been sitting there. She'd never been stung by a bee or wasp before, so we put her to bed on the couch for an hour so we could make sure she didn't have a reaction. (Once she got over the pain and surprise of the sting, she was pretty pleased to be able to sleep next to me on the couch.) Saturday was pretty much the perfect New Hampshire day. We set out first thing for a nearby farm for pumpkin picking, and the girls had a fantastic time selecting pumpkins, riding in a wagon, and dashing through a corn maze. We had to cajole them out of the maze with a promise of apples and cider donuts in the farmhouse, whi...

Dear Little Miss Grets, You're three! Happy birthday, dear one. You were swept up in this month's birthday excitement, announcing throughout the day, "It's my birthday!" and holding up three fingers. We celebrated yesterday in New Hampshire, where we traveled for the weekend with Bobby so we could go pumpkin-picking and nature-walking for your birthday. It was such a great weekend, and you were very excited about your presents. The biggest hits were your own super-big My Little Pony with rainbow hair, like Lucia's (you've been coveting this pony for months), and your Strawberry Shortcake friend Cherry Jam, which goes along with the Strawberry Shortcake you got for Lucia's birthday. (Figuring out what each of you get for your birthdays, and which things you'll get for each other's birthdays, is quite the project.) Three. How funny you've gotten, and how silly. You talk constantly, often incorporating phrases you've picked up from ...

Dear Lulu, Happy, happy birthday, little one! Your birthday was yesterday, and you are so very excited to be five. You've been looking forward to this birthday so much, and we made it a big one for you. On Sunday, we threw you a bounce-house birthday party in a giant warehouse in Secaucus--definitely not a place Daddy or I ever imagined existing, let alone patronizing, pre-you (or, more accurately, pre-New Jersey). It was a ton of fun. Twenty-two children came to help you celebrate, including friends from both your old school and your new school. Aunt Molly and Luca were there too, and had visited for the weekend, which made it even better. You, Greta, and Luca became fixated by the water fountain for a bit, and Molly and I feared you'd never return to your wild climbing and bouncing. You had cupcakes at school on your birthday. And that evening, we gave you your presents, including a variety of My Little Ponies, a Jasmine, some books, two games, a Tinkerbell movie and f...

We eagerly saved and planned for this renovation, so there is no point at all in complaining about it. That said, I will, for the record, say this: 1. It is annoying to have to turn off all the lights in the basement whenever I microwave anything so I don't blow a fuse. 2. Having to journey from the basement to the attic--three flights of stairs--every time one of the girls needs to use the bathroom is tedious. 3. It is unpleasant to wash dishes in the laundry sink which is usually filled with dust and paint chips raining down as they work on the kitchen above. 4. It is dusty. 5. It is a sad fact that I actually enjoy eating and (semi-)cooking in our makeshift basement kitchen than I did in our "real," now-demolished kitchen. That is all.

A post by our guest blogger, Andrew In February, 2012, Margo and I went to visit our first house with our new realtor Maggie in Maplewood. We had taken a few trips out by ourselves and gone to some open houses, but this was the first time we were really serious about things. We’d looked online and emailed  Maggie a few listings that had caught our attention. At the very end of that first email we included a link to a house that was well over our budget and that appeared to need a ton of work. But it was charming and old with lots of character -- all things Margo and I prize above most everything else when it comes to houses -- and so we wanted to see it. I included a comment to Maggie that said “Way over budget, but this may be our dream house.” When we arrived out in Maplewood, it was the first house on the tour. “Let’s see if we can get you the dream,” Maggie said. We pulled up outside the house for the first time, and somewhere deep inside us, both Margo and I knew we...

Our trip to New Hampshire the last weekend in September seemed doomed. Andrew had to unexpectedly go to Mexico the week we were planning to go, and our renovation was scheduled to start the Monday after we'd planned to return. But somehow, we made it work. We drove there Friday morning and returned Sunday night. A short trip, but refreshing and reviving as usual. Continuing our trend of pick-your-own, we took the girls apple picking on Saturday, which was so much fun. Both girls love picking fruit, and there were plenty of apples within reach; it didn't take long at all two fill two large bags. Then we tasted some apple cider (and hard cider, for me and Andrew). Next up will be pumpkin picking later this month. We happened upon a rummage sale--yay!--on our way home from the orchard, and I picked up a great elephant tent for $2.50. The girls played in the tent with their My Little Ponies for most of the rest of the weekend. They even ate some of their meals in it. We spent ple...

At the invitation of some friends, we headed down to Baltimore a few weeks ago to spend the weekend seeing Andrew's family and ostensibly celebrating the 100th anniversary of the writing of the Star Spangled Banner. We didn't do too much to mark the occasion, but we did pack a lot of visiting into one weekend: drinks with Maplewood friends who moved to the Baltimore area this summer; Molly and Luca, who came in for a morning and afternoon; Andrew's parents and family friends; and even Andrew's sister, in town for a bachelorette party. It was a great little getaway. When Luca and the girls were together, Molly and I were amused that despite the presence of all the "tall ships" in the harbor and other entertainments, the kids were solely focused on the sticky hands given to them by the hotel staff. They threw them again and again at the doors of the aquarium.

Dear Lulu, Your last letter as a four-year-old! Insanity. Five is right around the corner, and you're ready for it. I'm extremely late writing this letter, and delinquent with the last letter, but no matter. I'll keep it brief so I can do a proper one for your birthday next week. The biggest milestone this month has been the start of school, your last year of preschool: Pre-K 5's. This is a big change. You go every day from 8:45am till 1:30pm (Fridays you come home at 11:45), and it's a lot more school-like than your previous two years. I really see the difference already. You're learning a lot, and you seem so much more kid-like and grown-up from the things you're doing. It's a new school for us, and you made the transition without a hiccup--no hesitation on the first day, and only excitement from that point on about going back each day. You don't share too many details about your activities--getting you to share what you did is like pulling tee...

Dear Grets, I'm writing this letter late, but your third birthday is approaching and I wanted to be sure to slide one in before that. It's been a big, big month for you, with the start of preschool. You were so excited to begin--and so excited on your first day, holding a sign that said "First Day of Preschool 2014" for pictures on the front steps, and traipsing jauntily to school with Lucia, Daddy, and me. When we got there, however, your high spirits evaporated, and you clung and sobbed when I left. When I returned, I was told that you'd stopped crying quickly but had a "sad day." Indeed, when I peeked into the room just before pickup, I saw you at the little table with the other kids, who were all having a snack while you stood with the teacher at the end of the table, red-eyed and sad-faced. When the parents came into the room and you saw me, your face gave way, and you began sobbing so heart-wrenchingly that I, too, began crying. Not a great first...

A few more summer memories: Making clothespin mermaids A visit from Aunt Molly and Luca Sister-ing