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Showing posts from 2015

Lucia's Hypotheticals

Lucia is just too funny these days. She's learning so much and all her new knowledge--from the bus, from her new friends, from her teachers, from her six-year-old life--sometimes filters out in hilarious ways. Two examples from today and yesterday: At the dinner table last night, I was talking to the girls about the wedding this weekend, instructing them on good manners and etc. Greta announced that if the bride approaches our table during dinner, she'll give the bride a big hug. Lucia thought about this for a moment, then said, "But what if Greta hugs the bride and she has SAUCE on her hands???" Too funny. Today, in the car, Greta was having a four-year-old moment and kicked my arm as I reached back to unbuckle her seatbelt. When I suggested she apologize, she refused. Then Lucia said, "What if, instead of saying 'Sorry,' you say 'Sorry, buster!'" I'm still laughing over this one. I have no idea where she got that. Sorry, buster! L

Letter to Greta: 4 Years Old

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Dear Grets, Happy birthday! You're four! Four seemed so huge when Lucia was marking this milestone--but you are still undeniably my baby. You've been awash in birthday celebrations for two weeks now, and your birthday and Lucia's birthday kind of blur together since I just split up a lot of the gifts between the two of you. Nonetheless, today was your day, and it was a fun one. You got to open one present this morning, a large plush Princess Luna (Lucia got one too). I was the helping parent at school, and you wore a sticker announcing your birthday and also announced it yourself as each of your classmates arrived. I brought cupcakes for your class, and everyone sang to you. This afternoon, once Lucia got home from school, you got to open the rest of your gifts. Your favorites were a tiny sleeping Applejack in a bed and a variety of blind bag ponies. At your request, we had waffles for dinner, and then a cake you'd picked out from the grocery store (which, tire

Letter to Lucia: 6 Years Old

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Dear Lucia, This is a two-weeks-late letter, better than no letter at all. The start of school made September a blur; I'd counted on getting my footing in October, but the insanity of your birthday and Greta's birthday back to back makes October pretty crazy too. But: you're six! Five was a watershed birthday, but six is showing even more transformations, coupled as it is with the start of kindergarten. You've become such a kid these past two months, and you were beyond excited about your birthday. Daddy was in Germany on the big day, and he hated not being home to celebrate with you. But Gra and Pop-Pop came to NJ for a few days, and I can safely say you had a wonderful birthday. In the morning, I gave you one present before you left for school--a large Princess Celestia plush you'd discovered when we were in Ocean City, MD, and which we secretly bought for you (and Greta). I was a lunch helper at school, so I got to see you during the day--you were wearin

Lucia's First Day of Kindergarten

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Huge milestone last week: Lucia's first day of kindergarten. It seems like we've been preparing for this for over a year, and in many ways we have--with Lucia nearly six years old, her pre-K program last year focused intensely (well, intensely but playfully) on kindergarten prep. Writing, counting, reading readiness, kindergarten routines. She was so well-prepared that by the time the big day arrived last Thursday, she felt fully ready. When I tried to give her some last-minute instructions, she said, "Mommy, I already know that from the pre-K 5's." She was excited, and, as she admitted, "a little bit scared," mostly about the bus. And it's really a big deal, the bus--she gets on, gets to school, gets back on the bus, and has to get off the bus on her own. There's no one announcing the stops, or calling names, or making sure all the kids who are supposed to get off the bus do, indeed, get off. The day before her first day, we took a walk to

The End of the Summer

Tomorrow is our last day of summer vacation. On Thursday, Lucia has her first day of kindergarten. Next week, Greta begins the three's class at preschool. Although we have Labor Day and many school holidays coming up, it still seems like tomorrow is significant: the last truly free day we'll have for a while. I've been acutely aware this week that the summer is ending, and acutely aware of how much things will change once Lucia is in school. Don't get me wrong: I'm not mourning the end of these three months of unstructured time, and once Greta starts preschool next week, I'm going to relish the quiet, productive solitude. Still, I am very protective of the girls' playtime--guarding it even when it drives me crazy to be with them all day, every day, hands-on, responsive, mediator/cook/activities director. Their play has ascended to new levels this summer, and they are completely in tune to each other and the robust imaginary world they return to again and a

For the Love of Ponies

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I just wanted to post once more about My Little Ponies, and the serious, exhaustive way they have infused our lives. As the summer draws to a close, the ponies have become vital components of each and every activity the girls engage with. Bike riding around the driveway: bikes must first be "decorated" with blind bag ponies. Building with Magna Tiles and blocks: the structures are homes, castles, and barns for ponies. Playing with tiny Playmobil stuff: the small foods are for the ponies. Coloring: they're coloring pictures of ponies. Playing on the swingset: the ponies are always on the swings or in the playhouse with them. Going to the playground: ponies accompany us. Going to the pool: ponies accompany us (though I make the ponies stay in the car). Fruit picking: ponies accompany us. Painting clam shells on the porch: the ponies have to be forcibly distanced from the paints. Reading books: reading to ponies. The girls' love of these ponies is intense. They both kn

Summer in PA

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We started the summer with a week in PA, and we ended it that way, too. We drove in last weekend and packed the next nine days with lots of local fun. Molly and Luca were there, and the kids all played in the garage (their favorite 'indoor' play area) with Mom and Dad, and even watched My Little Pony and Equestria Girls together. We took all the kids to the Youngwood Pool--a new thing for us--and had a great time there. We all enjoyed hanging out at a friend's lovely yard, with a magical playhouse and a 35-foot wooden swing that really makes you feel like you're flying. Andrew, Molly, and I went to Lynn's for some late-night fried food. And Andrew and I even had a double-date night in Pittsburgh with friends. We also went to the Pittsburgh Children's Museum; shopped for cement yard statues at Marcel's; had nice meals at Randall's and Eat N' Park; and went to a Finley's Fighters fun walk, where the girls got their faces painted and had pink feat

Heart of the Summer

It's mid-August. This month, our crazy summer has finally slowed down, and for the past few weeks we've been home: all four of us, no more no fewer. No one visiting, no one traveling. (Well, Andrew was away all last week, so I guess I mean that I've consistently been here. He's mostly been here.) June and July were packed with activities, and now--a break. Of course, this was the part of summer I looked to with some measure of trepidation, since there's no way to get around it now: it's just me and the girls, all day, every day, for 12+ hours of unstructured time.  That's daunting. The only comparable thing is snow days, which always seem like the most heinous affront to a SAHM: a whooollleee daaaay insiiiidddde, alooooone with the kiiiids. Minutes seem like hours. Thankfully, this summer isn't quite this bad. First of all, we're not stuck inside. Second of all, we're not stuck inside in the basement while doing dishes in the laundry sinks wit

The Pool Report 2015

If you had to track my parenting evolution with one single experience that recurred year after year, I think the most illuminating piece of my life to look at would be our time at our community pool. This is our fourth year as pool members, and it's always been a blessing and a curse. Here's a snapshot of our pool experiences to date: 2012: (ages 9 months and 2 years) New to town, I talk to anyone I come across who seems to have kids the same age as mine. My arms nearly fall off from holding nine-month-old Greta for the duration of our pool visit. I live in fear of diaper incidents. Lucia brings a million toys to the baby pool and I nearly lose my mind trying to keep track of them in the free-for-all that is the baby pool toy-sharing/stealing culture. Putting sunscreen on a baby and a toddler is a $%@&*& nightmare every single time. I haul Lucia and a beach bag and Greta in a stroller. I bribe Greta with snacks at departure time so she'll get into the stroller wit

A Brief Moment of Silence, for Naptime

It should come as no surprise that Greta has officially dropped her nap. She napped more or less every day for 1.5-2 hours all through the winter and spring; I often had to wake her up to avoid sleeping too long. She needed it, little baby. I tucked her into her bed, sang her songs, turned on her white noise and nightlight, and she slept. That she kept her nap that long is remarkable, since Lucia stopped napping before she was even two and a half years old. Greta napped on for a solid year longer. The nap started falling apart when Greta became more aware that not only was Lucia not napping--Lucia was having a grand time having "quiet" time in her room. Selecting toys to bring upstairs, playing with her ponies, singing and having tiny tea parties and coloring. For a while, I'd let Greta select toys to bring upstairs, but I could convince her to keep them on her bureau. Then she kept the toys in her bed. Then she played instead of napped, often sneaking into the hallway

Letter to Lucia: Last Day of Pre-K / 67 Months

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Dear Lucia, You've finished preschool last week! Three years--done. This was by far the hardest year to say goodbye to, for me at least. You had a pre-K year that was wonderful beyond words. Exceptionally warm and talented teachers, supportive and welcoming preschool community, lovely classmates and families, activities that fully embraced both fun and kindergarten prep. We couldn't have asked for more. On the way home from your last day, I asked you how you felt, anticipating sadness; but all you said, happily, was, "I feel like kindergarten." You loved this year but are eagerly anticipating the next big thing, which is as it should be. Month by month, you're becoming more of a five-year-old, curious and funny and so much yourself in ways that--I have to admit--have little to do with me. You still love reading books together, and your interest in identifying sight words is growing--my ambitious goal for the summer is to get you even closer to reading

Letter to Greta: Last Day of School (2 1/2-year-old class) / 43 Months

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Dear Grets, Well, you did it: you made it through your first year of preschool. It started off dramatically, with so many tears and so much clinging and sadness. I'll never forget peeking into your classroom after your first day of school, expecting a happy, proud baby, and seeing instead your sad, tear-streaked little face, lips quivering, barely holding it together--and then you losing it completely when you finally caught sight of me. I don't think you've ever sobbed so tragically. We started your preschool experience by sobbing together as the other kids and parents milled about. Happily, things changed for you. For a while, you cried when I left, and I spent the first two weeks of school hanging out in a nearby meeting room just in case you needed me (you didn't). Eventually, you gave me sad, worried looks, but no longer cried. And then--it all clicked for you. You gave me a hug goodbye and traipsed into the classroom with nary a backward glance. I won't

Magic Word

ME: Girls, would you like a snack? GRETA: I WANT HUMMUS AND CRACKERS. GET THEM FOR ME RIGHT NOW. ME: Greta, that's not a very polite way to ask. How should you ask? GRETA: I WANT HUMMUS. ME: What's the magic word? GRETA: HUMMUS.

Yard Sale Report

Had some decent luck with yard sales today. Not my best haul, but it was a rainy weekend and I got to only a couple. My bounty: Lego mosaic set ($2) feathered headress for dress-up bin (free!) Lilly Pulitzer capri pants, like new ($1) (I actually find them quite hideous, but I couldn't pass them up) two bracelets and a necklace ($1/each) three kids' dresses ($1/each)--one's an adorable corduroy jumper in exactly the style I love for my girls

Mother's Day

Mother's Day was a lot of fun this year. There was a lot of buildup and celebration at the girls' preschool, and I got to attend a Mother's Day party in each girl's class. On Greta's day, she served me strawberry shortcake and pink lemonade for a snack, then gave me my gifts--a marigold in a decorated cup, a card, and a hand-painted necklace made from a metal washer. Lucia's pre-K class went all out, preparing fruit-and-yogurt parfaits, a rendition of "You Are My Sunshine," a "Mom rocks" cheer, and a painted and bejeweled clay necklace, plus card. The kids were soooooo excited about their presentation. They also made little lists that answered questions about their moms--Lucia declared my favorite food to be "salad" and said I look pretty when I "go out to dinner with Daddy." Too cute. On Sunday, I went to yoga, and Andrew took the girls out to buy my Mother's Day treats, which they excitedly presented to me when I r

Power Elsa

Bath- and bedtime continue to be times of high-energy, high-hilarity, and high-chaos around here. We're all so tired by 7pm that it kind of falls apart for all of us. Right around then, Power Elsa usually pays us a visit. Power Elsa is Greta's alter ego. She created it herself, and when the mood strikes, it transforms her. The crucial prop is her hooded bath towel. As soon as her bath is over and her hooded towel goes on, Power Elsa appears with a grand announcement--"POWER ELSA!" Greta then sprints for the bathroom door, naked but for the towel hanging from the hood over her head, and then she stops--hand on the doorknob, one leg in running motion behind her, other arm raised high...and she looks back over her shoulder with her Power Elsa face, a mixture of a grimace and a cry of triumph, and she pauses there as though on a television show's opening credits when her character's name appears in text on the screen. Then she's off again--"POWER ELSA!&

Rummage Sale Season

It begins! My favorite time of year: rummage sale season. There have been some here and there the past few weekends, with last weekend bringing a huge cache of Playmobil sets, a rare find (Sphinx, Egyptian temple, vet clinic, fairyland, some random figures and pieces). But this weekend the sales were going on in force. I came away from three days of sale-ing with these treasures: --more Playmobil sets (seal feeding pool, underwater, and burning building--I need to cut myself off) --big container of Lego-compatible building bricks (the hit of the weekend) --6 pairs of princess dress-up shoes --4 sparkly dress-up outfits --2 plush panda hats for next winter --6 Corningware mugs --retro Corningware baking dish --4 mini Corningware baking dishes --10 cookie cutters, including a unicorn --box of vintage yellow Fiestaware (Andrew found it shoved underneath a table!) --a handful of wooden pegs for peg dolls/gnomes --2 Zhu Zhu Pet strollers with a total of 2 pets and 4 baby pets

Goundhogs

We have groundhogs. For a while we've noticed large holes/tunnels under our porch, and commented idly, "Huh. It looks like something's living under there." And several weeks ago, while Andrew was out of town, I was sitting in the living room and smelled skunk so strongly I was convinced a skunk was inside the house. Last week, walking around the house with a landscaper who's going to work on our backyard, the landscaper saw the holes/tunnels, announced we had groundhogs, and gave us the card for a wildlife control company. Today, a wildlife guy came over and confirmed it. We have groundhogs. A lot of them. The skunk I smelled was probably startled by one of them. He won't kill them, but we paid a hefty fee for his services: constructing metal barriers underground all along the porch, putting in a one-way door that the groundhogs can use as they emerge to find food and water, and then returning to seal up that door once all the groundhogs are gone. They'r

Letter to Lucia / Letter to Greta

Dear Girls, Another catch-up letter, and I've lost track of how many months each of you are, and one of these months I'll do the counting and get back on track. But it's better to write than not write, and it's fun to write about you both right now because we're in a stellar period of cuteness and hilarity. Lucia, at 5 1/2 you're the reigning big sister, eager to "help" Greta whenever you can--even, sometimes, announcing you're going to be the one to help Greta get dressed in the morning. But Greta, you hold your own--you idolize Lucia and look up to her and strive to emulate her in every way; but you don't hesitate to stand your ground and assert yourself. The big sister / little sister dynamic was on charming display this week, since you had your first swimming lesson together. Greta has been watching Lucia at her swimming lesson for the past three months, and finally you're in a class together. Lucia, you led Greta to the side of the

Easter

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We journeyed to Connellsville for what turned out to be a fun and eventful holiday. The day before Easter, Andrew and Molly both ran the Connellsville half-marathon; we met them at the finish and celebrated at Valley Dairy. Andrew shocked everyone by ordering a club sandwich consisting of a burger sandwiched between two grilled cheese sandwiches. Later that day, we celebrated Luca's third birthday with a cake Molly created, consisting of small cranes scooping crushed Oreos from the top of a chocolate cake, which was a huge hit all around. On Easter morning, the kids came downstairs and found their Easter baskets, which was thrilling. (Lucia had claimed she was going to stay up all night, or at least get up really really early, but everyone slept until a very humane 7am.) Lucia and Greta each got a plush Rapunzel, tiny plush bunny, M&M necklace, butterfly headband, a small mini-golf Lego Friends set, and a Frozen Lego set (impossible to find except for the fact that one week a

Spring Sickness

We greeted our long-awaited spring by having both Lucia and Greta contract a stomach bug. It hit Lucia first, around 6pm on Thursday; she had a rough evening and night, and needed Friday to fully recover. At 2:30am on Friday night, Greta woke up crying about her stomach hurting; a second later, she vomited all over her bed. Charming. She was sick the rest of the night and up till noon on Saturday. Lucia, at five and a half, knows enough about stomach bugs to understand the idea of leaning over a trash can. She also gets really upset and angry about it, wailing "I hate being sick!!!" after each bout. She understands that when she's sick she gets to watch a lot of TV, but also that she has to rest and nap. Greta, on the other hand, had to be physically corralled into aiming for a trash can, and her anger over being sick was laced with stubborn three-year-old-ness. She'd cry about her tummy hurting, I'd ask if she was going to throw up, and she'd say furiously,

Lucia's Style

Lucia's been choosing her own outfit each morning for well over a year now, nearly two years, and lately her outfits have gotten particularly interesting. Her choices are always bold, and she cares little about matching in the traditional sense, but what's pushed her to new levels of inventiveness is her burning wish to wear her summer clothes. I got her a few new things recently at Target, and of course the temperature dropped back to winter levels, so her pretty new clothes have been sitting in her drawer, unworn. She finally just couldn't take it anymore. She cut all the tags off herself, and they're now part of the rotation. This morning, she wore a white long-sleeve t-shirt with gold stars, tights with fox faces on the legs, rainbow biker shorts over the tights, and pink-and-silver striped leg warmers over the tights and shorts. Silver sequined shoes and a bouncy ponytail pushed the cuteness further. After school, she immediately changed into a pink, purple, an

Goodbye Pacifier?

Greta's transition to a bed has been more or less smooth. She doesn't stay in bed flawlessly, but she doesn't run around, and she and Lucia don't meet up in the hallway to squeal and wreak havoc. Of course, earlier this week when I went upstairs, I found both of them in the bathroom--Greta on the potty and Lucia holding her pacifier "so it doesn't fall into the potty." They were both being perfectly quiet, just sisters helping each other out when they were supposed to be asleep. Greta's nap has been hit or miss the past couple of days, but it's always unreliable on the weekends. Even if she doesn't sleep, she stays in her room, playing and talking to her stuffed animals and dolls, so I'm banking on a viable transition to Quiet Time when she does eventually give up her nap. What I hadn't foreseen with the big-girl bed switch was that Greta would take the initiative to give up her pacifier, her beloved pa-pa. Although she's closin

St. Patrick's Day

I love preschool for so many reasons, but I appreciate it particularly on St. Patrick's Day: the school did some fun things to mark the holiday, which is pretty much the only one of the year that doesn't get any notice whatsoever in our house. (Andrew brought home a six-pack of Guinness last night, as a gesture.) The girls both wore green today, and rainbow necklaces. The kids all had some Irish soda bread and green snacks. Lucia's teacher went all out with the festivities, and Lucia came home bursting with news about the mischievous leprechauns who left footprints in their classroom, made a mess, hid the lunches, left gold coins, and more. Lucia led Greta in some "leprechaun hunts" later tonight. Greta was mostly concerned with whether she could wear pink again tomorrow. She was not happy at being forced to wear green. Greta's transition to a bed has been going okay. She stays in bed at night, not running around, which is what I feared. She's been nap

Letter to Lucia and Greta / Catching Up

So I've fallen way, way behind in blogging over the past couple of months. Trying to go back and catch up on all the posts I should have been writing is daunting, so I'm just going to throw a whole bunch of things down here and start being more timely from here on out. In no particular order, some bits of our life: Box Houses The kitchen appliances all arrived in February, and Andrew and I turned the boxes into box houses in the basement for the girls. Each girl had a large room and a small room, and their houses were connected by a door. We hung twinkle lights. The girls decorated their walls with stickers and markers. They filled their houses with stuffed animals and blankets and Legos. The houses got me through a few days when Andrew was out of town, which is really the best thing a box house can do. Today, mid-March, we finally took the box houses down. I hope the girls remember them. I still remember the box houses Molly and I had when our kitchen was being redone deca

Solo Weekend

Andrew was gone this weekend, from 6am on Saturday until midnight tonight. He took the car to the airport, so the girls and I were homebound. It was also freezing and raining, so we probably wouldn't have gone anywhere anyway. Still, staying home alone for two full days, with no human contact (aside from the sort-of human kiddos) or scheduled outside activities, is not easy. Yesterday seemed to last a million hours. The girls had little interest in any structured activity, though we did do some Sculpey (tiny pies, tiny fruits) in the morning. Otherwise, we just hung out in the basement. We made a long banquet table out of Keva planks and arranged all our tiny foods on it, for the enjoyment of Playmobil pandas and other animals. We built stuff from Magna Tiles. I was frequently ordered to "be Princess Celestia" (a My Little Pony) and talk in my "pony voice." The day. Dragged. On. For. A. Million. Hours. After a full day in the basement I felt as torpid and foggy

Letter to Lucia: 62 Months / 63 Months

Little Lulu, Combining letters this time since I wrote a lot about Christmas, and that was really the focus for most of November and all of December. I have to say this was the most fun Christmas with you yet: so much giddy anticipation; a real awareness and understanding of Santa; an exciting wish list; and little of the worry of prior years of mid-day meltdowns. Five is a good age. A fun age. We're still exploring a lot of the new things from Christmas as we get back into our regular routine. You're still loving pre-K, the best thing we've ever given you. For future decisions, I need to remember how much sleep I lost this summer, doubting my decision to switch your preschool and enroll you in this class, with its longer hours and unfamiliar teachers and classmates. And yet--what a fortunate thing it is that I didn't let those doubts rule my actions. I feel lucky every day that you're there. Now I worry about the year ending; you say frequently that you want to

Handmade Gifts

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As always, our handmade gifts were the best gifts exchanged this Christmas. The lineup this year: personalized letterpressed notecards from Dad; aprons for adults and kids from Mom; tiny notebooks made from Vera Bradley playing cards from Molly; and tiny Sculpey pies and cakes, with a glass cake stand, from me.  When, you might ask, do I have time to make tiny cakes out of Sculpey. The answer is: the girls got crafty this holiday season. We did so many things together, holed up in our basement while chaos reigned above. Greta made a snowman from cotton balls and construction paper. We made clove and orange pomander balls. We made snow globes from mason jars and bottle-brush trees. We made handprint-painted ornaments for Christmas gifts. We did a lot of foam stickers. We did a few Christmas craft kits from Michaels. We cut snowflakes from coffee filters. We made salt dough stuff and painted it. We made Santas out of corks. We glittered. And we did a lot, a lot, of Sculpey. The

More Christmas

We were in Connellsville for nearly two weeks this holiday, and Andrew and I packed a lot into our stay. Christmas festivities took up the first part of the trip, but after that, we had great plans. Gabe’s again, of course. Wings at Lynn’s. Those are standard fare for any Connellsville visit. There was New Year’s Eve, as well, which we spent with friends in Pittsburgh who were brave enough to host a party that involved seventeen kids under ten years old. This year, we added something new to our Connellsville time: touring residential and commercial properties with a realtor, with an eye toward possible investment properties. Well, one eye was turned toward that; the other eye was simply curious to see what was behind the doors of some of the stately old homes whose faded grandeur seems mismatched with their $30K prices. We saw some interesting things. At one apartment, the door fell off—just pushed over and fell down flat—when the realtor went to unlock it. At a house, though the

Christmas: Tidbits

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A few additional tidbits from our Christmas vacation: The Crib's Death Knell Greta decided Christmas vacation was the perfect time to refuse to sleep in a crib. She and Lucia were sharing a room, with Lucia in Molly's old bed and Greta in a pack-and-play, and for the first time Greta seemed to realize that Lucia had something she wanted. There was nowhere else for her to sleep at night, so she had to accept her fate, but she slept in the bed for her naps. It was about 50/50, sleeping vs. playing. I peeked in one afternoon and saw her trying to climb onto an old exercise bike that's in a corner of the room. Other days, she did nap, adorably tucked under the covers. She made no effort to hide her ability to climb in and out of the pack-and-play with ease. Since returning home, she hasn't protested her crib, but its days are probably numbered. Lucia and Her Snugs The girls got a lot of plush things and dolls for Christmas: plush Anna, Elsa, and Olaf; giant teddy be

Christmas

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We had a really fun Christmas this year. Both Lucia and Greta were incredibly excited about Santa Claus, and we even made out lists to mail to the North Pole (courtesy of a local shop with a “Santa” mailbox outside). Andrew and I were excited for a different reason: we were heading to Connellsville for nearly two weeks, which meant a blissful escape from frozen/boxed food and an increasingly dirty, chaotic, unpleasant, renovation-inundated home. Molly and Luca were in Connellsville with us for the first week, and Luca, Greta, and Lucia happily played together, running around the house, piling into beds, screaming “Snowman!” and dashing around manically. They all enjoyed watching Rudolph, accompanied by popcorn and hot chocolate. We left all the kids with Mom and Dad to go Gabe’s shopping, where Molly and I brought home a wonderful haul reminiscent of the Gabe’s of yore: among much else, we both got $200 Seven for All Mankind pants for $3, and Molly got a shirt for 50 cents. Andrew