Skipping Town

Little Ones, Another joint letter. I’ll get my act together soon, I promise. But once again it’s fitting to write to both of you, since so much of what you do, you now do together. Now that it’s summer, all of us are happier, and we spend our days on the porch or in the backyard: bubbles, chalk, climbing the rhododendrons, coloring the rhododendrons with chalk, running around, digging, reading. We’ve set up the water table and sand table, as well as a kid-size table with chairs for snacks, lunch, dinner. It’s all just purely fun. You both have lost interest in television: though you have your favorite shows (Doc McStuffins, Sofia the First, Bubble Guppies, Dinosaur Train), you’d much rather be outside, or playing with whatever you’re into that day. I never know for sure what you’ll be involved with when I come out of the kitchen to check on you while I’m cooking dinner: today you were both building towers and structures with the wooden lacing beads that haven’t seen the light ...

It doesn’t really feel like summer until we trek to New Hampshire for the first time. This weekend, even though the weather was cool and rainy, our summer truly began: we arrived at the house Thursday night, and we ventured out only once—for a few groceries—over the next two and a half days. The girls were beyond excited to be back. Lucia remembered everything from last year, already listing her favorite things to do and play with as we drove from New Jersey; and though it’s unclear if Greta really remembered anything in any detail, she didn’t hold back for a second once we arrived. Both girls were happier over the last few days than we’ve seen them in ages. It’s a different kind of fun there: freer, simpler, more childishly joyful. We all tramped around in our rain boots most of the time, since it rained off and on and the grass never really dried out. The girls were happiest when they were playing with water anyway: a puddle at the end of the drive—ankle deep—was thrilling for t...

What a lovely Mother's Day: beautiful weather, breakfast in bed, delicious meals, lovely presents. I went to yoga and got a manicure/pedicure. We all hung out outside, in the yard and on the porch. Both girls seemed very excited about the idea of Mother's Day and kept bringing me bouquets of flowers/weeds and wishing me Happy Mother's Day. Two sweeties. What a lucky mama. (And a few pictures from rainy yesterday:)

Overconfident from our successful drive to Florida over Christmas, a few weeks ago Andrew and I decided to make the journey again, this time for a week during Lucia's spring break from preschool. It was a much easier trip this time, planning-wise, without the endless Christmas luggage; and we felt like we kind of decided to do the trip on the spur of the moment, or as spur-like as one can be when traveling with two kids. On the way down, we stopped for a barbeque lunch, where both girls revealed a love of fried chicken legs, and we spent the night in a hotel, just as we did last time. This was a total fiasco. We got there right at bedtime, but the girls hadn't yet had dinner; and there were no cribs left. I made the girls dinner (we'd brought food in a cooler) while Andrew went out to find a Walmart and buy a crib. Then the novelty and excitement of sharing a room was just too much for Lucia and Greta to handle, and they didn't go to sleep until after ten, and only af...

Dear Girlies, I'm delinquent this month in writing your updates, so I'm writing a joint one to get back on track. The main theme right now is the way you've been interacting anyway, so it makes sense. You've always played together--usually very well; sometimes squabbling more than playing--but in the past couple of months your play has changed, deepened, and grown. Greta, you're old enough now to understand what's going on and to actively participate in whatever activity the two of you are doing; and Lucia, you seem thrilled to finally have an "equal" in your games, one who can go along--more or less--with what you direct. My role, too, has changed: rarely am I a primary participant in your activities; I moderate, I suggest, I mediate, I propose, but you two are incredibly self-directed, and your imaginations know no bounds. A favorite thing to do right now is reenact scenes from Frozen. You both know large blocks of dialogue, and you switch off be...

I have a lot of blog-catching-up to do--a ton--but I keep putting it off because I want to add pictures, and all my pictures are on my phone. So I'll forge ahead with two cute anecdotes: Yesterday, before Andrew got home, a contractor stopped by to look over the house, so I left the girls alone watching Bubble Guppies while I showed him around. Bubble Guppies is a very strange show that the girls inexplicably adore. Well, not inexplicably--all the characters are mermaids and there are always cute animals. It's like preschool cocaine. Needless to say, it's not scary, but in one particular episode, there's a scary-seeming seal that the mermaids think is going to eat a baby penguin. Both girls are terrified of this seal. This was the episode they were watching while I was with the contractor, and when I came downstairs I found them on the couch, hugging each other, comforting each other in their fear. It was so cute. Today, I mentioned to Lucia that she and Greta would...