Skipping Town

We spent all last week in New Hampshire, a nearly eleven-day getaway that was truly the calm before the storm that is the next three weeks. Although both Lucia and Greta returned to their characteristic New Hampshire ways and rose god-awfully early in the morning (Greta reliably by 5:00am; Lucia by 6:30am), there’s something peaceful about rising with the sun up there, with nothing but quiet outside the windows, and the occasional pheasant in the yard. We spent all the time we could outside, sitting on a blanket with Greta while Lucia played in her ball hut, splashed in her pool, and enjoyed new discoveries from the barn—this time, a rocking-horse-type object. Lucia was particularly interested in the frogs this time, and we spent lots of time down at the pond, where she dipped her toes in the water and tossed clover and weeds to the frogs that were merely inches away. Sometimes, they’d leap at the plant, mistaking it for a bug, which thrilled her. One time an earthworm oozed o...

Dear Littlest One, Seven months! Every month I’m amazed that you’re not a tiny tiny little infant anymore but a growing, curious, active little baby. You’re sitting up on your own now, though I still won’t leave you sitting by yourself since you tend to do the occasional face-plant or tip-over while reaching for a toy. You are eating food, and loving it—rice cereal, sweet potatoes, avocado, squash, peas, and pears so far. You still gaze intensely and longingly at “real” food, though, and I know these purees aren’t going to stay around for long. You have your first tooth, bottom-center left—it broke through the surface a day or two before your seven-month birthday. You’ve been fussier than usual (still not very fussy), so I knew something was going on. And you’ve entered that cute phase where you approach any object with a monster-ish open mouth, ready and willing to gobble up, or at least chew on, anything in your path. Your raptor screeches are epic. I’ve never heard an...

One of the reasons I love Park Slope is that it’s full of families. You can’t walk two feet without kicking a (thousand-dollar) stroller. Kids and parents are everywhere, and I’m sure I’ll never find an equal to this baby-raising community. Friendly conversations, commiserating smiles—it’s all great. But along with this massive collection of families is chaos and overcrowding—and I’m not even talking about schools, which is too far off in our lives to be a Reason but is certainly among the most important things driving us away from New York. Anyway, again I’m talking about playgrounds. It’s just too much. There are just too many kids. It’s overwhelming for me, not to mention Lucia. A playground nearby, which was being renovated for the past few months, opened this weekend; we’ve braved it twice, but it is just insane. It looks like some sort of gigantic event is going on—a kiddie rock concert, or something—but it’s just a regular day. I’ve gotten wimpy now that I have two kids; th...

I haven’t been keeping up with my Reasons posts, but believe me, every day I write them in my head. Whenever I trip over something, or can’t find a place to put something, or experience something in the neighborhood that annoys or frustrates me, I tell myself I need to write about it on my blog. That hasn’t happened. I’ll try to be better, starting today. Park Slope is an expensive neighborhood. And yet it is still full of trash. Some of it is just par for the course with city living, like the bags piled by the curb on trash day. But sometimes those bags break, spilling trash all over the sidewalk. When you have a toddler who likes to spot things on the sidewalk and add whatever it is to whatever collection she’s building, this is just not going to work. I look forward to not having to walk past bags of garbage when we move to the suburbs. On one particularly outrageous morning at the playground, the playground workers hadn’t yet arrived to empty the trash cans and do a genera...

Today was a gloomy, rainy day, and Lucia and I spent a fun hour this afternoon painting for the first time. She loved it: dipping her brush in the paints, rinsing it in a cup of water, drawing on various sheets of construction paper. At one point, I went into the bathroom, and she followed me as she always does; but as soon as she entered the bathroom, she exclaimed, “I have painting to do!” and ran back to the living room. Andrew got home from work late, and Lucia and I were already in her nursery, reading stories. But I asked her if she wanted to show her paintings to Daddy, and she was just so excited—she ran at top speed into the living room, and I could hear her excitedly showing Andrew each of her masterpieces, jabbering incomprehensibly about using a paintbrush and rinsing it in water and putting paint on the paper. Pretty cute.

Dear Little One, You’re now closer to three than you are to two—a scary prospect, both because you’re getting so big and because I’ve heard terrifying things about the terrible-threes. We have our terrible-two moments, undoubtedly—your screams are so piercing that they leave my ears ringing, and your irrationality (you want to get back in your crib! no! you want to get up! no! etc.) is exhausting. Fortunately, these episodes aren’t too common, and for the most part you are delightful to be around. You’re still a skinny little thing—I can see your ribs—but you’re growing, already into 3T clothes (mostly because you have long legs and a long waist). I still worry about your eating, though you’re long past the stage where I can trick you into eating more just by reading books distracting you in other ways. You’ll eat, or you won’t, and there’s not much I can do about it. You aren’t particularly picky, though we haven’t tested you much. Sometimes you decide you like unexpected t...

This weekend, Mom and Dad came for a quick visit, and we were fortunate enough to be able to arrange to show them our new house. Andrew and I were so excited for the trip—we hadn’t visited the house for many weeks, and no one besides us had seen it yet. We were anxious to show it off, and eager to hear confirmation that we’d made the right choice. When we arrived at the house on Saturday morning, our broker wasn’t yet there, but cars were in the driveway. People approached us: the owner’s daughter, son, daughter-in-law, and grandson. They were at the house to do some work and packing and hadn’t known we were coming. It felt like an illicit meeting, pre-closing: should our lawyers have been present? were we trespassing? There is something inherently odd about the process of turning a house over to a new family, particularly when the house in question has been lived in by one family for so many years. Even if selling is the right or only thing to do (as it seems to be in this case, ...

We had visitors last week—Andrew’s sister and dad were here last weekend; his dad stayed on for the week; and then this past weekend we drove up to New Hampshire to open the house and enjoy our first blissful weekend away from it all. We were there only from Friday afternoon through Sunday afternoon, and a good bit of the first day was spent opening the house (i.e., Andrew and his dad cleaning out unmentionable awfulness while I sequestered the girls outside), but we still managed to take in some of the peace and rest we love so much. We were outside nearly the entire time we were there—Lucia remembered lots of things from last summer, and though it was too cold to get out her swimming pool, she still got to swing, collect stones and dandelions, play with her ball hut, and ride around in her car and tractor. She could not have been any happier running around in the grass. Greta chose to celebrate our stay by beginning to sit up on her own for very long stretches (usually until she...

Lucia has made it her job to sing “Twinkle Twinkle” to Greta every time she goes to sleep, two times a day for naptime and then again at bedtime. This means she spends a lot of time hanging out with me while I nurse Greta in our dark bedroom. I always sing to Greta while she nurses: a few renditions of “By and By,” then on to “Great Big Stars,” finishing up with “Rainbow Connection” and “Somewhere Over the Rainbow” before I begin rocking her to sleep to “Sleep, sleep, sleep sleepyhead…Sleep, sleep, snuggle in your bed…” Once Greta stops fidgeting and starts getting drowsy, I put her down in her crib. This is Lucia’s cue to grip the top of the crib, hoist herself up so she’s standing on the mattress and looking down at Greta, and sing “Twinkle Twinkle.” When she’s finished, we both say “Shh…shh…” and leave the room. Except leaving the room is not always easy. Because Lucia must hang out while Greta nurses, she’s taken to bringing a selection of snacks and toys with her into the...

Last weekend, we drove down to Maryland to meet Luca, our new nephew. Lucia was very excited to meet Cousin Luca, especially since the trip also included time with Aunt Molly, Uncle Ian, Gra, and Pop-Pop. This was the first big trip we’d taken with both kids, and it wasn’t easy. Lucia was great in the car, but Greta spent much of the time screaming. In the middle of a long screaming session, Andrew made a left turn in a bus lane when we got to Silver Spring and got pulled over instantly; I leaned over to the window and told the cop that please, we really couldn’t stop, we had to feed the baby. It wasn’t even a lie; Greta was desperate. He told Andrew to be more careful and let us go. In the hotel, however, things were better. We’d gotten two adjoining rooms and put the two pack-and-plays in one of them—and Greta slept better than she has for weeks, waking up just once at 3:30 to nurse. It was bliss. Cousin Luca was, of course, the star. He felt as light as a feather comp...

Dear Littlest One, Have you really been with us for six months? It seems like we just brought you home from the hospital, a squalling (or, in your case, snorting) newborn. Because you are the second child, I see you as a baby—a much younger baby than you actually are. You surprise me constantly with the things you do. There is no time for me to guide you through each milestone; you just get there on your own, casually. You’re going to crawl across the room one of these days, before I know it. This month has, unfortunately, brought about a disastrous turn in your sleeping. From the very beginning, you were a good night sleeper—but in the past six weeks or so, you’ve started waking up more (two or three times a night), and, worse, staying awake. You’re in a mini-crib right next to our bed, so if you’re awake, I’m awake. You kick your legs into the air and slam them down; you toss from side to side so that the zipper on your sleep sack bangs against the crib; you shriek and ...

Saturday we spent the morning at Prospect Park; we got lunch at the farmer’s market, set out a blanket on the Great Lawn, and just enjoyed being outside. Lucia and Andrew kicked a ball around; Lucia collected various things; Greta chewed on various things. Saturday night, we bravely ventured out for dinner—not too far, of course, just to a nearby pizza place. It went pretty well, though as the meal progressed and the restaurant got busier, Lucia got a bit overexcited. Happily, this restaurant has a big window where kids can watch the pizzas being made, and the chefs hand over small balls of dough for the kids to play with. Of course, Lucia loved this. We’d taken the double stroller, and Lucia refused to get on for the walk home, solidifying our resignation that we’re going to have to buy a “real” double stroller at some point (i.e., a stroller into which we can firmly strap an uncooperative child). By the time we got everyone home and bathed and in bed, we were exhausted. We both had a...

Dear Little One, Two and a half! Halfway through two! This is a big one. You’re getting so grown up. You have a mind of your own, which is usually fun (the things you say!) and occasionally enraging (the tantrums you throw!). We have high highs and low lows. There are days we spend playing and giggling, and there are days that leave me weary. Twice in the past month I’ve had to turn the TV on in the morning or afternoon to calm either you or I out of a rage. You can be insistent and intense, and usually I can handle it. But your little sister hasn’t been sleeping very well, and sometimes I just can’t get past the exhaustion. Fortunately, most of the time, we have fun. I say “we,” because we do plenty of playing together—tea parties, reading books, Play-Doh, play food. But this month you have really been playing a lot on your own. I’m always near you, in the same room, ready to comment or participate; but you are very often completely absorbed in your own little world. This world involv...

It was a fun Easter this year. The holidays keep getting more entertaining as Lucia becomes more aware of them, and I know they’ll only get more fun once Greta gets into them, too. This year’s Easter celebration started on Friday, when some friends and I organized an egg hunt for our two-year-olds at the park. Lucia had a great time. While a couple of the other kids preferred to just run around the park, Lucia set out with a singular focus: to collect eggs in her new bunny bucket. She loved finding them; she was less interested in opening them. And, of course, an interesting stick was the best thing of all. Saturday, we went out to Coney Island with friends to play in the sand. Lucia was so excited to be at the beach, and she immediately pulled off her socks and shoes and ran to the water—only to find that it was painfully cold. Once we warmed up her toes and got her shoes back on, she had fun playing in the sand and collecting shells in her bucket. Saturday night, I put together the g...

Today was a big day in our household. First, it was a big day for Lucia: the first time we’ve left her with a babysitter for a long period of time. We had to go out to NJ today for our home inspection, definitely not something a toddler could sit peaceably through, so I found a sitter for her. I was extremely nervous about this event. I had the sitter come for two hours yesterday, so Lucia could get familiar with her. I typed out tons of instructions. Early in the week I ordered a DVD of Olivia episodes to make sure Lucia could watch her show as usual without the sitter having to figure out our ridiculously complicated on-demand cable thing. I showed the sitter where everything was both yesterday and today. I emphasized, many times, the importance of keeping track of Bibi and paw-paw, so much so that before I left today she looked around a bit nervously to make sure she knew where they were. We were leaving Lucia for six hours. (We took Greta with us.) To my surprise, Lucia was fine. S...

Greta’s interest in food has intensified lately to a degree that is almost ridiculous. This morning, Lucia and I were sitting at the table, eating breakfast, and Greta was sitting near us in her activity saucer. She was watching us so intently that she was barely even blinking. Just staring…staring…staring at us as we lifted food to our mouths. Later today, I sat near her as I ate a yogurt, and she looked at me with such a doleful expression on her face that I actually felt guilty for eating it in front of her. And later, as I had yet another snack—this time a meal-snack of two large pieces of quiche—while sitting next to her on the couch, with her propped up on a pillow, she made a lunge for the quiche, so forcefully that she toppled over into my lap. If I hadn’t been right there, she would have fallen off the couch. When I eat in front of Greta these days, I feel like I’m stuffing my face with cake and ice cream and fried chicken and fresh bread while a Dickensian beggar-child looks ...

We got the house, our glorious house, and here it is: My lesson in real estate: let’s not do this too often. We got the house, but we had a couple of weeks of craziness to get here. After a day of seemingly normal, successful back-and-forth with the seller on a Tuesday two weeks ago (we offered; they countered; we countered back), negotiations went haywire, and suddenly no one was responding to our bid; it seemed the sellers were trying to find another buyer and that we would ultimately be forced to make a blind bid. It was all a lot of real-estate jostling, with our broker angrily threatening to withdraw our offer, accusing the seller’s broker of acting deceitfully, and the seller’s broker responding with a lot of explanations and mild panic. All we knew by late the next night was that we likely weren’t going to get the house unless we offered asking price or higher. Which we just couldn’t do. So I spent that night crying on the couch, feeling robbed, because if we’d just accepted the...

Lucia, when I went into her room after she woke up from her nap today: “A bat was in my nursery. It scared me while I was sleeping.” There was no bat. But all the vestiges of Halloween—bats, ghosts, witches, pumpkins, and monsters—have become regular characters in Lucia’s world lately. When we make a house with a blanket draped over her crib, ghosts and witches regularly come to visit, usually bearing a gift of “new markers.” Bats fly all around her nursery and the rest of the apartment. “I see a bat!” she’ll exclaim at random times. She’ll dramatically whip her head from side to side, as though following a bat as it swoops wildly around the room. Much of this is just her leftover—and lingering—interest in all the Halloween decorations she saw in October. Some comes from books we read, and some comes from the Olivia episodes she’s most fond of. The pure, scary ghost sightings are a thing of the past. Now she’s as likely to say “There’s a ghost coming through the window!” or “I see a wi...

Dear Littlest One, Five months! If I were miscalculating your age, as I did with Lucia, I’d probably be starting you on solid foods right about now. I haven’t miscalculated, and you’re not starting solids, even though you’re verging on being ready. When I eat now, if you happen to be nearby, you watch me so avidly that it’s like you’re willing the food into your own mouth. I was holding you yesterday while eating a banana, and I really though you were going to reach out and grab it. Also, you’re getting up at least once a night and eating for a long time, and during the day I feel like I nurse you all the time, so I know you’ll be ready soon. I’m in no hurry, though. Six months will be our starting date. If possible, you’ve gotten even cuter over the past few weeks. You are screeching, shrieking, cooing, gurgling, and babbling all the time. You have a riotous laugh, which you bestow almost exclusively on Lucia—you especially love when she jumps up and down. You have an intense, penetra...

Whew. Knock on wood, it seems we’ve turned a corner in the paw-paw withdrawal. We hunkered down at home on Saturday—played on the stoop for a while, but that was it—and by Sunday Lucia seemed more her old self. A couple of funny, funny things from the past couple of days: When we were out on the stoop on Saturday, a woman in a black burka walked by. “OH!” Lucia said at the top of her lungs, perking up and staring after the woman avidly. “A GHOST!” Andrew and I were speechless, mostly because we were laughing too hard (silently) to say anything. Hilarious. (I finally told Lucia that no, it wasn’t a ghost, it was just a woman wearing a special robe.) Lucia continues to sing more or less continuously throughout the day. Today, however, for the first time, she decided to join me in my lullaby-singing as I put Greta down for her morning nap. Greta was on the brink of sleep when I laid her into her crib, softly singing to her. Lucia, who was, of course, playing in the room the whole time, ra...