Skipping Town

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...

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...

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...

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...

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 ...

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...

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. ...

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 ...

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...

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...

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.