Skipping Town

Dear Little One, You're closer to five now than four, and every day it shows. You've been interested in games off and on for the past couple of months, but suddenly you're more excited about them. Since Greta's nowhere near ready to follow rules--even simple ones--this is something you and I do together (with Daddy on weekends) after Quiet Time, when Greta is still napping. We currently play Orchard and Sneaky Snacky Squirrell. I have another couple stashed away for a rainy day. It is, sadly, the end of the preschool year, but you have two weeks of "camp" coming up--sort of an extension of the school year, with the same teachers and kids--which is great. You had such an amazing year. Wonderful teacher, and a new openness and excitement about making friends. I know you're only four, but you really did make friends this year, specific children you enjoyed playing with and really loved. It is such a relief to me that you're so well-adjusted and happy;...

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...

This morning, the girls and I dyed Easter eggs. They were beyond thrilled. I put some eggs for each of them in wooden bowls, and they played with them throughout the day. At naptime, Greta brought up a little bag, as she often does; I assumed it was filled with tiny princesses, as it usually is. Just before I put her into her crib, I realized the bag was quite heavy. I looked inside and saw five dyed, hard-boiled eggs. I find this absolutely hilarious.

Finally: spring. Our backyard is a mudpit, the crabgrass is growing in aggressive clumps all over our front yard, the finish on our porch steps has worn off completely--and yet it's glorious to be back outside, able to keep the front door open and let the girls run around with zip-up sweatshirts or, today, only their regular clothes. Lucia and Greta, starved for the outdoors for months, have been gorging themselves on the open air and the space to run. All week, whenever I've taken them outside, they've been absolutely overcome--they don't stop moving. The activities they've been absorbed in are just different reasons to run. One game is "It's raining!" and involves running from the playhouse to the rhododendrons to the slide to the biggest mudpit and around and around again. Another game is "Help me find my sister!", which involves each girl holding her three small mermaid dolls, hurling one of them as far as they can, and then just running ...

Dear Anna, You, of course, have been christened Anna as part of the Frozen mania you and Lucia have succumbed to lately. Though you don't yet have the ability to sing the songs in their entirety, you do your best--you pipe in with words here and there, and whenever you catch a glimpse of anything Frozen-related, you exclaim excitedly "Zen! Zen!" Your favorite companies are your "zen dolls"--Elsa and Anna dolls. You know the movie well enough to recreate scenes with Lucia (under her bossy direction--"Greta, say this. Greta, now say this."). Today at dinner you looked at me and said "You sing 'Go.'" I, too, welcome any chance to belt out "Let It Go" and obliged. We've seen changes to your speech the past few weeks--now and then you'll get two syllables in, and you're stringing words together more and more. Your speech therapist has observed that your vocabulary and grammar are developing normally, despite...

Dear Elsa, "Elsa" is what you prefer to go by these days, as we've lost you to Frozen fever. You've loved shows before and learned favorite songs from "Sofia the First" and "Doc McStuffins," but nothing--nothing--has captivated you quite like Frozen. Like every other child in the country, you belt out "Let It Go" over and over again for much of the day, adding more of Elsa's motions each time--shrugging off her cape, tossing away her crown, conjuring the ice castle, stomping to create a giant snowflake, running up an ice staircase. You and Greta (who's always Anna, of course) reenact scenes from the movie, with you feeding lines to Greta and then bursting into song. I never thought I'd have so much fun seeing a child of mine swept away by Disney, but there we are. You're sick of winter. We all are. For the past couple of days you and I have lamented all of the wonderful things we'll do once summer finally get...

We were a busy household last week. Andrew flew to California last Sunday, and Mom and Dad arrived a little after that to help out for a few days. The girls were thrilled to see them, of course. Lucia had a busy schedule of preschool and a birthday party, so Greta got lots of one-on-one time with Gra and Pop-Pop. Both girls were beyond excited last Tuesday, when our Frozen DVD arrived in the mail--we marked the occasion by giving them each Elsa and Anna dolls. Lucia's reaction when she pulled them out of her bag was priceless--a gasp, a scream, a face of total disbelief and joy. She should be excited: these dolls are sold out everywhere. Mom and Dad got the Annas after searching several places in Southwestern PA; and Andrew had made a late-night run to a Target in a nearby town after the Target website claimed to have the Elsas in stock. Neither girl has been without her dolls since. A highlight of the week was a dance party in the basement, with both Lucia and Greta dancing movi...

Every single night, when I go up to check on the girls after they've fallen asleep, I find a random assortment of things in Greta's crib, which Lucia has tossed in. All the pacifiers are always in there, and I've also found bath toys, Greta's night light, stuffed animals from her storage basket, and much more. One time I found a large "artwork"--styrofoam peanuts on cardboard. Every night, I tell Lucia not to go in Greta's room. Greta always falls asleep quickly, and I'm afraid, one of these nights, Lucia will wake her up when she makes her crib deliveries. "But she wants them," Lucia has said. "She likes when I come in." I've always discounted her claims. We've tried to get this to stop, to no avail. At least, this has been my impression of how things go. Last night, I learned more. About ten minutes after I went downstairs after finishing up Lucia's stories, I heard Lucia walk into Greta's room--and Greta start t...

Dear Baby Grets, Way back, when you were a tiny, cooperative little baby, cute as a button and doing everything exactly right--sleeping well, eating spectacularly, going with the flow--it was impossible for me to imagine ever getting mad at you, or ever having reason for anger at all. Oh ho, little one, how low you have brought me. You are still cute as a button, still beloved and lovable, but you are also the most willful, stubborn, uncooperative two-year-old I've ever had the joy of raising. Your terrible-twoness coincided, unfortunately, with this endless winter, and leaving the house--which of course requires socks, boots, and a coat--has become all but impossible. A trip to Target or Trader Joe's used to get us through a particularly long morning; but now, the nightmare of getting you ready renders such trips pointless. No perusal of the dollar bins can possibly be worth what we have to do to get out the door. But you are also lots of fun right now. You love playing wi...

Dear Little Lulu, This is a very late letter, but at least it's here. This has been a crazy month, highlighting one of the central frustrations and phenomena of parenting: the more time we're cooped up at home, the less time I have to do anything. We've been at home a lot a lot a lot the past few weeks because of this crazy winter, so things like timely blog post have fallen by the wayside. Anyway. It's been apparent for a month or so now that you are becoming much more kid-like. You have friends at preschool whom you enjoy playing with. You love Thursdays, when you get to stay for "Lunch Bunch" and soccer. You have an amazing memory and are almost too observant; you forget, and miss, nothing. You aren't all that interested in playing games on the iPad anymore, but when you do play games like Fruit Pop, you're uncannily skilled: swiping your finger to link three fruits, connecting fruit chains to coconuts, spotting groups of fruit faster than me so...

Today, after Quiet Time, Lucia said she didn't want to use the iPad: she wanted to make peg dolls instead. "Can we make peg dolls, Mama?" she asked, excitedly clutching a new shipment of wooden pegs that had arrived in the mail. Yes, little one. Yes, yes, we can. Greta woke up from her nap just before we began, so make no mistake: this was not an hour of quiet mother-and-daughter crafting at the kitchen table. It was more a scenario of the girls spreading all of my felt across the kitchen floor to make an "island" and me madly glue-gunning as they attempted again and again to unwind all my yarn, like pesky kittens. Still: any request for crafting, especially when it's chosen over something like the iPad, is, I will say, a satisfying moment for this mama.

After another snowy week last week, I was counting the seconds until we could go to Connellsville and have a few days of R n' R, where it wouldn't matter if we were snowed in because Lucia and Greta wouldn't even know we were there, so focused they would be on Gra and Pop-Pop. Alas, we got another snowstorm on Thursday, so we couldn't leave that afternoon as we'd planned. I wanted to just get in the car and go; Andrew pointed out we couldn't even leave our driveway. Friday, we gave the girls their Valentine's Day gifts in the morning. I'll digress here to say that after years of assuming everyone gave Valentine's Day gifts to their kiddos, I see now I was wrong. It doesn't matter. I like planning their little Valentine's Day surprises, and this year I (fine, WE) gave them each a mermaid Hello Kitty, some colored pens, a few tiny notebooks, a unicorn necklace, a book, a coloring book, and a tiny teaset featuring the very kawaii Rikkukuma bea...

Another Tuesday. Tuesdays can go so many ways. They're always long, with no preschool or babysitter, and in such snowy, cold weather we're always completely cooped up. Running an errand is usually a good thing to do, except when trying to get Greta ready for an outing is more stressful than just staying home. So today we stayed home. I thought I'd try to remember and record all the many things we did and played with today, just for fun: Reading books (including a new book Andrew brought home from work--"Tea Time with Sophia Grace and Rosie") Having a snack (granola bars) Setting up a large expanse of pillows, doll crib, and doll bed and putting a variety of stuffed animals down for a nap Coloring. Lots of coloring. Sit N' Spin / rocking horse trade-offs Fort-building in the basement, with the red storage bins I still haven't used for organizing my life Dancing (Greta) Shopping-cart pushing (Greta) Clothespin fairies--they're lost in t...

Lucia at dinnertime:  "Eating dinner is not fun. I like playing and drawing." Lucia, looking at the refrigerator: "Mama, when are we getting a new refrigerator?" "When we get a new kitchen." [Panic-stricken face:] "But...but...When we get a new kitchen we have to TAKE ALL THE FOOD OUT OF THIS REFRIGERATOR FIRST!" We let the girls watch some Olympic figure skating this afternoon, which they loved. But Lucia seemed troubled that each skater was on the ice by herself. "Where are her friends?" she kept asking. She seemed relieved when the skaters returned to their coaches and teammates. Lucia and Andrew played outside in the ice-snow for a long time today. Andrew pulled Lucia on the sled; Lucia sucked on icicles; and they played an elaborate game of princess/giant/witch/etc. Greta, for her part, refused to go outside or even put on any socks. For one second, she agreed to go outside; I got as far as her snowpants before she mutinied. ...

This has been the longest week of my entire life. I feel like the past six days have pummeled me. I last posted on Tuesday, and the rest of the week proved to still be long and ridiculous. Wednesday morning we woke to yet another wintry wonderland, everything snow-covered, all the tree branches coated in ice. School and sitter: cancelled. Andrew worked from home, but the day was just long, long, long. I have no memory of how we spent it. I'm sure it involved coloring and dancing and the Sit N Spin, maybe the Squinkie fairies, perhaps the "slide" I make for them out of an old Ikea shelf. Yes: we did the slide. I remember now. There was a lot of jostling and arguing and pushing and it all ended very unhappily for all. That afternoon, pushed to the limit of feasible activities, I dumped the food-coloring-tinted ice cubes into a Pyrex baking dish, announced "Rainbow ice!", and left them to it. They squealed with excitement and managed to find ways to play with the...