Year's End

2011 is drawing to a close. 

It is a cozy close, a calm and tea-by-the-fake-fireplace sort of close. 

It has been a calm year, really.

Busy days but all of them cluttered mercifully with not much more than the bits and minutae of daily life.  The cleaning and driving and cooking of it; walks around the block and pushing kids in swings; the softness and the brutality of routine.

Not much has changed this year, at least nothing monumental.  Personally speaking-- I've lost about 15 pounds and have made exercise and writing more a habit in my life.  I've learned how to fit more and more in my day and discovered how much I value a clean kitchen before bed.  I've woken up early for work and driven a lot and I've learned to love listening to books on tape during my commute.  I've gotten a new car and a new phone and some new clothes.  I've taken my children to the library and the playground and Target and the museums;  I've cooked a lot of Mac-n-cheese.  I've spent far too many hours on the couch with the dog and a computer on my lap. I've been to Denver and Guernsey and Aurora and Farley'; return trips one and all but wonderful all the same.  
I've watched my children grow and change each and every day and I've settled just a tiny bit further into my role as their mother.

It gets a little, tiny bit less strange with each passing year, this role.

In 2011, I have not had nearly as many moments where I catch a glimpse of myself in a mirror and think, with shock, My god, I am someone's MOTHER.


Rather, this year I am struck with amazement that I have TWO children.  Two actual-factual kids who belong to me, who are from me and of me and wrap up my history and my future and my mortality and eternity all in their warm, soft-skinned little selves. 

At years end these two little beings are amazing in every way.  From their skin and their lips and their hands and their little nails that grow oh-so-fast, the sheer physicality of them, to their smiles and their words and their laughter and the way their noticing changes my noticing, completely altering the way I see the world. 

My amazement is not always suffused with joy.  Not at 3am when I am amazed, continually, at just how long a little girl can refuse to sleep through the night.  Not at the dinner table when I am amazed that I seem to have birthed not one but two picky eaters.  Not at 6:30pm when I am exhausted from a day at work and amazed at the energy the children still seem to have, and the chaos they leave in their wake.

But somehow that is all drowned out when I see these two magical creatures laughing together over some private joke that sounds an awful lot like random squeaking to my adult ears.  Or when I snuggle with my boy before bed and am awestruck by his thoughtful questioning of the world.  Or when I burrow my nose into my girl's feather-blonde hair and breathe in her scent.  When I hold my son's hand and marvel that this was the tiny baby I brought into the world, just 4 short years ago.  When my girl dances on her tiptoes and hugs her babies and declares the world to be "mine!" and I see time racing away from the day she was my tiny baby, too. 

They are amazing.  They are breathtaking. 

And if 2011 was unremarkable and calm and yes, nigh boring-- I will revel in it and be grateful to it for each and every day of regular-daily-life it has given me with my children.  With this little family of mine.  Tucked in our little home in this little city, leading our ordinary lives. 

How lucky are we? 

May 2012 bring more of the same.

Christmas Day in the evening...

It was a lovely day.









Walks on the beach and bike rides and free, open time stretching out before us.

Oh yeah, and presents, too!






 

 

 

We went to sleep to this view on Christmas Eve..



...and woke up at 6am on Christmas morning to this...



In the evening we had some of this...



...and some of this....



And it was all perfect. 


Merry, Merry Christmas to one and all!

Christmas Eve

I think the magic of this night is that much more intense for how fleeting it is.  This moment in time, where time stops. Presents wrapped, carefully arranged, candle light and tree light intermingled and dancing on the glitter of ribbons and bows.  It will never look like this again.  And I can't capture it on film, as hard as I try.  There is no one media that can hold and store and re-present all of it at once. The smell-- candles and pine and paper and tea-- the sound-- a clock, hushed voices, Corydon's breathing, the night settling in--and that amazing half-light that is somehow bright as day and celebration but soft as a newborn asleep.  Mystery and magic and timelessness.

The world in solemn stillness lay...

Our children are snuggled in sugar-plum beds and the stockings are stuffed and I am giddy with the anticipation of their faces as my little ones snuggle their new stuffed animals and delight in the joy of three Tootsie rolls for their very own.  (We overdo Christmas, we really do.  The stocking presents alone are such a bounty....)  But the tree!  The tree!  What would Christmas be without a completely ridiculous pile of presents under the tree?  We know Jack and Ivy will be too overwhelmed to actually appreciate half of what we have given them. We know this, but still we give it, and wait eagerly for morning...

Jack said  he is not going to close his eyes tonight.  He has the curtains pushed back to keep watch for Santa.  He carefully helped to pen a note to the big guy and selected three of his favorite cookies to set out.

It's a daunting responsibility, and an amazing privilege, to be a part of creating the magic of Christmas for this little boy of my heart.

Off now to soak up a few more moments of light and stillness.

Merry Christmas to all, and to all a good night.

Pageant

I had tears in my eyes tonight,  watching those little angels parade out.  And then my boy, the most serious of lions, shepherded by his cousin... Eyes forward and focused on the task at hand, until he saw me and flashed that shy eye-smile of his at me.




I couldn't have been more proud.

This pageant, of legend and Nat's childhood-- it was as magical as he's described it.



And not JUST because of my little lion.
Though that was most certainly a big part of it.



He helped pass out programs, confidently greeting strangers and telling them, "Thanks for coming" in that sweet little voice.  He sat quietly and patiently through the far-too-long commentary by the Catholic priest.



Have I mentioned how proud I was?


Little sister loved the night too.  Though she manifested that love by flinging herself around our pew, and chatting enthusiastically nearly the entire time.  "Bah, ba-bah-ba,  Bop!!!"  She "sang" along with the carols and watched carefully for Jack's appearances and fought mightily against us when we kept her from following him back down the aisle.
  

And her curls were to die for.


Tomorrow is Christmas Eve.  This stealth Christmas has come upon us like a bolt out of the blue this year, and we're just going to have to be ready.  We're here in Aurora and already soaking up the calm and peace of Claire's house.  We are going to try to just BE for a bit tomorrow. 

Just breathe.

And revel in the memory of 50 little children gathered in church, earnest faces shining in the magic of that old old story of that cold night long, long ago; tears in the eyes of every adult in the room as the past melds with the future and creates a present we wish could be bottled up forever; organ resounding and choir descant streaming and familiar-wonderful tunes filling our hearts.

Tomorrow is Christmas Eve and it will be beautiful.  Much magic to each of you. Soak it up.

First Snow

The first snow of the season is magic.



 

And we've been reveling in the magic of it.

When it snows in Cleveland and you've got two kids who love the snow, you seize the day.  Do not pass go, do not collect two hundred dollars, do not clean the house-- just get outside.

 


Yesterday we went sledding in our front yard, which entails a lot of pushing sleds forcefully down the slight incline on one side of the lawn.  The kids ate it up.  Ivy, little be-mittened hands covered in snow, furiously signing "more," Jack demanding more and faster and giggling like mad.

Then, we trudged our way around the block.  Because its not often that you can pull two sleds all the way around the block on a layer of fresh, white snow.  By the time we got home, the children's noses were pink, Ivy had piled snow all over her legs, the dog's paws were covered in snowballs and Nat and I were sweaty and exhausted.

It was great.



Today, we built snowmen in the slush.

Jack woke up asking to sled and spent his waking moments looking for icicles; Ivy talked nonstop about the "no" alllll day.  They will be sad little children tomorrow when it all melts away.

But for today?  Magic.

You know you're a parent when...

... the phrase "naked fun" has a whole new meaning than it did in college.

We had naked fun at our house on Friday night.  And yes, it did end with someone peeing on the floor.

You'll get that when 3 not-yet-potty-trained baby girls streak around your house for 20 minutes, after all.

"Naked fun" (as Jack refers to what is now, apparently, a new evening tradition in our home) was the culmination of a rather nice evening with Melinda, Will and company, wherein the kiddos actually spent quite a bit of time playing nicely together, and the adults chatted for a bit, and there were lots and lots of balloons.  Then Melinda went to get Lillian changed into her PJs to head home, and little miss did not want to get her diaper on, and, well, there was just no keeping the clothes on anyone else once Lil started running and giggling.  All of a sudden we had 4 little bums streaking around the downstairs loop. Round and round, shrieking with joy.

It was freaking hilarious.

And the puddle of pee?  It was on the hardwood so it was all totally worth it.



Here;s Jack in his new favorite spot.  He notes that the radiator behind the couch is "a nice warm place to sweep."  


Sunday we celebrated our family of friends again, with our December edition of Second Sunday Soup.  Eight kids and babies, eleven grown-ups attending, two soups, 4 loaves of bread, 37 markers on the floor, with 35 caps, 1 Magic game, lots of fun...



While I continue to be fairly overwhelmed by the busyness of Christmas (and the fact that is, like, less than 2 weeks away), I think I may be starting to soften towards this holiday season.

It might be magic after all.

Snippets

Ivy likes to do laundry.  We were in the basement, adding foam tiles to the basement auxillary play area (because one playroom?  just not enough for this household...), and Ivy disappeared.  I found her, with the washer door open, reaching into the hamper for dirty clothing.  The girl knows just what to do.  She very enthusiastically helped me fill washer and pressed every button she could find until we got it started.  And then you should have seen her helping to unload the dryer, climbing up onto the door, leaning her little self right in there to grab every last sock.


While snuggling with my little boy tonight -- my very tired, still-really-needs-a-nap little boy-- and reviewing his day, he told me all about what he did in yoga today:  crab and seagull, pedaling the bike to the beach, ice cream... "but not the REAL way, Mommy, just for pretend!"  Then, after a moment's pause, he asked me, "Mommy, do you remember when you were 4, and you were in Mrs. B's class??"

Smile.

We had a lovely chat about whether the toys at my school were the same as his, which led to a discussion about the merits of the really big wooden blocks and just how strong my boy is.

It was a saving grace, that snuggled-conversation, after an evening that had a fair amount of frustration, as my children refused to eat the dinner presented to them and I refused to cook them something different.  The joys of parenting abound.

hot cocoa

The kids have been very into hot cocoa recently.  Or, as some people might describe it, tepid Ovaltine in a mug. 

Here's Ivy (aka "the mop"-- don't mind the street-urchin hairdo) enjoying hers today...

Beginning to look a lot like Christmas....

I've been a bit of a scrooge so far this Christmas season, I have to admit. I had several moments this weekend where I came close to cursing the name of Christmas, sure that this holiday was invented purely to add more work, mess, and general chaos to my life.

We did manage to put up, light and decorate a tree this weekend... at the cost of getting no cleaning or laundry completed. And, there are still 3 more boxes of decorations to go.

Sigh. Can't do it all, I suppose.

Still, I am grateful that we took the time to get a little Christmas on around here. Extra work and all, it is delicious to have the glow of the tree complementing the glow of our little electric fire.

And, I am loving the little village. A last minute, clearance-at-Walgreens purchase last year, I think it may become a mainstay. Jack and Ivy both loved setting it up, arranging and rearranging the little people. Miniatures are magic, especially at Christmastime...


Jack was very into decorating the tree this year. In fact, I'd say he decorated about 80% of that tree by himself, with only minor adjustments from perfectionist-mom, to spread out a few clusters of ornaments.

You know what I loved about decorating the tree with him this year? His comments on each ornament, his obvious enjoyment of each one, getting to tell him, in tiny snippets, a little about what each ornament means to me. He was so very careful with them, and so very focused on his task. It's astounding, isn't it, just how grown up he is?

Ivy girl was interested in the process, in so much that she wanted to remove the ornaments as we put them up. She also enjoyed breaking apart pieces of styrafoam, and playing with the village. She's certainly a more active participant this year than last, but she's no 4 year old.  Not yet.

You know, I am starting to get really excited about spoiling these two on Christmas morning. The magic of the lights is starting to spread...


Here's a random photobooth shot of Nat and I, just for fun.

Quiet

Sorry for the quiet blog recently.  Life has been anything but quiet;  a bit routine, a bit too fast, but definitely not quiet.  There have been moments to write, here and there.... but there has also been laundry to fold, and dishes to do, and frankly, I've not been particularly inspired by anything to write about.

After all the excitement of Thanksgiving, with its photo-ops and memories being made, the return to normal life has been almost too normal to bear.  Or perhaps that's just the return to early mornings after the deliciousness of 5 days off...

I am recuperating today from a jam-packed weekend.  Choir concert and book club and Nat's birthday and a "birthday date day" and putting up the tree and...All good things but nary a moments pause between one and the next.

By recuperating I mean, of course, folding all the laundry that we didn't get folded over the weekend.

Laundry.  It'll be the death of me.

The kids have been good.  Definitely not quiet!  but good.  Ivy comes out with these perfectly enunciated words from time to time:  nice, snow, lights.  And plenty of rather-hard-to-understand word approximations-- but she gets her point across.  By far my favorite thing about her right now?  The way she says "yes".  Just the simple fact that she says YES now and not just NO is a beautiful thing.  But the way she nods her whole little self,  and says "yeah" or "uh-huh!"  with this thrilled look on her face!  Like she is simply tickled pink that we understand her, so happy just to be in agreement.  We need to get a video of her saying yes!

The boy continues to have his moments wherein he tests the limits of being a 4 year old-- talking back, refusing, a bad, bad case of selective hearing....  Of course he also has his moments wherein he is the sweetest child in the known universe.  A new bedtime routine is emerging where Jack asks us to climb into his bed and snuggle with him before tucking him in.  I have to say, I'm a fan.  For starters, its nice and warm under his covers.  And he is just this tiny thing again, tucked in my arms, his hand in mine.... we talk about the day and give hugs and its just lovely to have, for a few brief moments, a snuggly kiddo.  And, Jack doesn't beg and cling and dawdle when we leave the room after he's had a good snuggle.    There'a a lot to be said for anything that will keep Jack from begging, clinging, and dawdling...

Will attempt to get pictures from recent days uploaded for sharing....   In the meantime, I am going to enjoy this moment of quiet in my house. And fold that laundry.

Cousins

We've had a house full of children for the past two days and its been lovely.  Busy, and messy, and frequently very loud-- but lovely.  Cousin Steve Henderson and his family made the trip from Annapolis to join us for Thanksgiving and its been a delight to spend more time with this "new" branch of our family, after our brief visit together in July.  Jack and Ivy have been in seventh heaven, having constant access to play mates.  Steve's son Gavin is 4 1/2 and he and Jack have become fast friends, playing together nonstop for two days with only a few small arguments, which is nearly miraculous.  Ada and Ivy sometimes played together, sometimes apart, and generally tagged along with the boys.  Most of the time, all four of them have entertained each other in a most delightful way, with independent happy play predominating, At times, there have been tears over stolen marbles and arguments over airplanes, but they're family, so they've gotten over it.

Can I tell you how adorable it was last night, when Jack and Gavin had a "sleep over" and sat together in Jack's bed for a good half hour, looking at books together, til Jack snuggled himself into his nest of pillows and blankets, and Gavin headed in to sleep with him mom.... Or tonight when Gavin came back in to Jack's room to tell him that he's invited to come to their house sometime, that they'll put a bed in the basement room for us and we can stay with them.  Jack is all excited to go to their house, "all the way to the ocean!"-- and I think we should do it. Six hours is not that far and this is a wonderful new relationship to nurture.

Plus, Annapolis is very close to D.C.

It's been a truly splendid Thanksgiving, from our perfectly cooked turkeys (yes, two turkeys, one roasted and one grilled...) to the happy children to the good conversation.  Not to mention the weather, which has been as good as it gets in November in Cleveland.

Today, a most marvelous morning was spent at the beach, in 60 degree sunshine with driftwood teepees and pirate ships and barking dogs and sandy little hands.... but that will deserve its own post when I get the pictures from my mom...

In the meantime, a few shots of our lives over the past two days:

Thankful

Tonight, Thanksgiving Eve, I am thankful.  For my family, slowly returning to health after a heckuva week.  I am thankful that most of the time, we're healthy as horses, thankful that this week was all the more difficult for my not being used to it.

I am thankful for my two enthusiastic little children and their smiling eyes, for their voices and for their little hands, for their soft skin and their kisses and their fidgety little snuggles.  I am thankful for bathtubs full of bubbles and funnels and giggles.

I am thankful for walks around the block, for our wonderful block and the neighbors we run into every time.

I am thankful for my mom who cleaned our bathrooms for us today.

I am thankful to be hosting Thanksgiving tomorrow, for the bounty of our lives that lets our kitchen be overflowing with food right now, for the ease of our lives that lets me sit here on the couch and write these words.  I am thankful for family coming to join us, for gatherings and the making of memories for our children.

I am thankful for my husband who always takes care of the turkey.

I am thankful for the November-grey skies and damp chill in the air that makes me believe winter is really on it's way;  thankful too for the Botanical Gardens, where glasshouses and butterflies and emerging Christmas displays banished the grey and damp for us this morning.

I am thankful for this day off work.

Happy thanksgiving, dear followers.  I am thankful for all the people in my life, whether or not I can host them at my table tomorrow.  May your day tomorrow bring you gratitude and joy.

Sweetness

Today's post is cross-listed with my Thirty Days blog, where my focus for November has been on finding the sweetness in life.

I need look no further than my son. 

This kid, I tell ya.  He's a charmer.

I've been ill the past few days and Jack has been all about the advice-giving.  Upon my emergence from bed yesterday morning,  Jack informed me, "You know mom, sometime when I am sick I just sleep a little and I feel better.  Maybe you can sleep for a while?  Do you feel better?"  He was all snuggles, all day and so understanding when I wasn't much good for playing in the evening.

Of course, part of that may have been that I let him watch TV practically nonstop.

Kid loves TV.


Ivy girl is pretty delicious herself these days.  I feel like she just gets better and better, this one. She's talking more and more, saying things like "Star" and "heart" and "blue", though somewhat indiscriminately.  And she's both fastidious and considerate, as demonstrated by this moment, from earlier this evening:

Ivy always insists that she wants tomatoes.  She never actually does, of course, and this evening the half a cherry tomato I gave to her ended up on the floor.  After dinner, we were sitting on the floor together when she discovered said cherry-tomato-half.  She brought it over to me and with almost scientific precision, proceeded to pinch it and squeeze its contents directly onto my skirt.  She immediately got her most concerned face on, pointed to my skirt, and said, "uh oh!"  I reassured her that it was fine, that we'd get something to clean it up.

She promptly left the room.

She went into the kitchen and opened the junk drawer (which is, by the way, above her head), pulling out a pencil and considering it for a moment before tossing it aside and pulling out-- a wad of elastic.  (no, I do not know why there was a wad of elastic in the junk drawer.  Do I have to know?  I mean, its a junk drawer...)  She trots back out, right to me, and oh-so-carefully places the wad of elastic onto the splotch of tomato goo on my skirt.  Jack, ever the helper, dashes over to rub it around vigorously.  By this time I was laughing too hard to talk, much less stop him.  The final straw?  When Ivy pointed out, with dismay, the one, singular tomato seed left behind.  God forbid there be one tomato seed out of place.  Poor girl.  It may be a long childhood for her, growing up in our not-so-clean house....

So a tiny taste of what it's like to live with Ivy Jane.  Multiply that story by, like, 10,000 and you might get the idea.

Photos

We've been taking them, I swear!  Tons.  Nat, mostly, playing with his Hipstamatic app on  ye olde iPhone.  You'll note several of his recent works in the post below.

Yet, somehow, as I go to post this evening, I can't seem to find any recent photos worthy to share.  We've done things, gone places, our children have been cute-- all reasons for abundant photo documentation, to be sure.  Its a mystery.

In the meantime, a little word-picture instead, a moment from our evening-at-home tonight.  Wish you'd been here to join us.

It was a rainy evening, stormy in fact, a rare evening indeed where I did not feel called to drag my somewhat fried children out into the world.  We nestled in and puttered about, doing some vacuuming and spot mopping and some climbing-on-mom in between.  Some playing with hotwheels, some sloppy joes, some back-to-the-playroom after that.  We were aimless and quiet together, we three.  Seven o'clock found us like this:  Jack sitting in the playroom, a good 120 hotwheels strewn around him, playing and laughing along with the Monster at the End of this Book app.  Ivy in her booster seat at the kitchen counter (by her request) feeding herself applesauce with great success (She is the most fastidious 18 month old I know, asking with distress that I wipe up every tiny drip of applesauce as soon as it occurred.), chewing on toast, and bopping her head in time with the music on her MP3 player.  This moment of family contentment is brought to you by mobile technology....

This little girl and music!  She can't hold back when she hears it; she just has to wiggle, kick, bop, dance.   And   can I tell you what fun it is to sing "The Cat Came Back" with her?  She's nodding and shaking and moving along and then when it comes time for the "Mee--owwwww"-- oh I wish I'd gotten her "Meow" on video!  All her heart and soul and charisma poured into that one, drawn out sound, and that ornery laughing-smile on her face while she does it, just loving every second of the act of meow-ing.... She's a joy.  She loves every second of just about everything, this girl, as long as you don't cross her, or deny her anything, that is.  But she makes you want to go ahead and deny her nothing, with that proud-cat smile of hers and the little random kisses and her high-stepping prancing run and her hands up over her head pretending to be an airplane.  Irresistible. She's big on hats and socks and comparing whether or not various people/animals or pictures of people/animals are wearing hats and socks, as opposed to her.  She likes for everyone to have their shoes on whenever possible.  She asks to nurse by saying "nummy!!" and then asks for the other side by saying 'Die!"  Not as brutal as it sounds as she also asks to go outside as "out-die".  She's saying approximations of a few phrases, like "there you go", and she continues to amaze us with how much she understands.  She is very particular about which books she wants to read and asks for a few by name.  She enjoys discussing the status of hats in her books (point to hat in book, point to her own head, say "Noooo", look to me for confirmation that there is no hat on that dog's head, nod and turn the page...) and can "read" the last page of her book about snow:  "Slide!"  She'll go find things for us  when we ask and sometimes put things away when we ask too.  She's rather systematic and I'm hoping we can capitalize on this and have one tidy child...

I'm kind of in love with my daughter tonight.

Jack, I love you too, never fear. But, my son, you did not dance as much as your sister tonight.  So this post belongs to her.

into the woods....

We've had a simply lovely weekend.  I am having a hard time seeing it end, actually.  But it is late on Sunday evening and so I won't be long.  For a more detailed recounting of our wonderful Sunday, hop over to my Thirty Days blog.  But here, I just want to share with you some of the wonder of our morning walk, out in the blustery November sunshine.  A simple trip to the park-turned-ramble in the woods, discovering a hidden treasure that is very nearly in our back yard-- or front yard, anyways-- as we explored down into the gully across the street.  Happy children clambering about, happy dog wet and full of burdocks.... all as it should be.






Hoping you've all had a splendid weekend, too.

18 months

Little Ivy Jane is 18 months old.  And while time has slipped by at an astounding rate since her first birthday, its passage is well marked in just how different she is these days.  Gone, it seems, is any trace of the baby we used to have.  We now have a little girl, a giggly, kissy, sweet and ornery little girl who understands everything and is starting to talk and who copies everything her big brother does.  She's pretty wonderful and really stinking cute. 

Ivy at 18 months:

* She runs and stomps and spins and walks on her tiptoes and loves climbing up and down the stairs but prefers, really, to climb up the rocks through the garden.

* Thanks to following a big brother around, she's the master of the playground at the preschool, having learned since September how to climb up the rock wall, go through the tunnels, go down the big slide, and even walk across the "Stepping stone" bridge, all on her own.  She may be doing the monkey bars by two...

* She loves Sesame Street (Elmo and Bert are her favorite characters) and books with babies or animals in them.  She adores music, especially the Itsy Bitsy Spider.   She dances at the slightest provocation.

* Speaking of babies-- she's crazy about them. She likes to have 2 or 3 dolls in her crib and to take one with her when we leave the house.  She also likes to have  her "bebee" wear a hat, and then of course she needs a hat too, and then mommy needs a hat, and then she goes and gets Jack's hat.

* She is very thorough, and very inclusive.  She needs to put one object down (or preferably, hand it to a parent) before picking up something new.   Almost meticulous, actually.  When she's not barreling through life running into things, that is.

*She's talking more and more.  Yesterday she put two words together by herself: "Nine-y Bee-Bee"  (tiny baby) and she's saying I love you, even though it sounds more like "eye-uh-oowe".  She's starting to parrot more and more of what we say.  She's probablyt got about 40 words she uses on her own. A few new ones: Bowl, apple, cheese, pizza, milk, down (as a command to Corydon, of course!), diaper (dap-a), bottle (bot- oh), Elmo, hat, coat...

* If you ask her if she has room in her tummy for (name of food here), she lifts up her shirt and looks.   Its hilarious.   She also starts to take her shirt off if you mention a bath.  Or spaghetti.

* She wrinkles up her nose when she smiles and gives spontaneous kisses and running-tackle hugs on our legs. She's funny and engaging and determined and she's going to take the world by storm, this girl, one shake of those blond pigtails at a time.

Beach-comber

From october 2011 iphone pics

Can you believe it's November 6th?  Perfect fall day today.  Much time spent in leaf piles, on walks, on beaches.  Heaven.  A wonderful weekend.  More details and pictures to come.

Dance Party

This evening we had a dance party in Jack's room. We listened to T.A.T.U and danced in strobe light. Turns out, the boy has got some MEAN dance moves. Little hands jiving away, feet stomping, turning and smiling, smiling, smiling.

Just another little way the iPhones are making our lives better.

In other news about the boy-- he went across the monkey bars by himself today. Two times. I am inordinately proud.

Girlie-girl was not quite so agile, however, taking a header off a breakfast stool this afternoon. Goose-egg on her crown aside, she seems none the worse. She was a little live wire this evening when we had Lillian, Naomi and their parents over for supper. I think she really does recognize them as her friends, these days, genuinely excited to see them, following them around, even trying to say their names -- "o-mee-nom-ee" and "Wee-uul" At least she's trying. :) They give each other hugs and kisses. They carry handfuls of toys around the house and throw balloons and are about the cutest things going as they dash about underfoot. I love having these three little girls together. They are changing at the speed of light and they are more amazing every day...

***

Nat and I spent some time this evening organizing our calendar around parent-teacher conferences and Kindergarten open houses. It is mind-boggling to watch our babies babbling and toddling around, and then look at our big boy and see the space-time continuum, as it were, fold in upon itself. Because that's the only way it could be possible, that my baby boy is getting ready for Kindergarten.

In light of certain developments in the area of public education in recent years (four letters for you....NCLB....) and the way these developments have led our public schools to be focused more on numbers than on children, this public school teacher has been (gasp!) talking about private schools more and more. We may attend a Montessori open house or two along with our local elementary. And Nat's always made noise about home-schooling, though I am never quite sure how I feel about that option. With how I've been feeling about my own job, and with how Ohio seems to feel about teachers these days, home-schooling is holding more of an appeal for me...

Who knew. This parenting thing doesn't get easier. The challenges just change form.

But-- with great challenges-- come great rewards.

I love these little monkeys.

PS: Here are some pictures from Halloween! It was a wonderful evening of pumpkins and rockets and astronauts, aliens and little devils, friends and candy, and three exhausted trick-or-treaters being brought home in a wagon. Thank heavens for Grandma, who joined us, and carried the rocket home. Pictures can't do the magic justice, but you'll get the idea.

Sun in the Cemetary, Ghosts in the Garden...

It was a glorious fall day. A day with wings. This morning there was frost on the ground as the children and I walked the dog, and Jack's pumpkin around the block, with the wagon. We had to warm our pink noses and chilly fingers with some hot cocoa and donuts when we got home... We spent the afternoon outdoors, in 50 degree fall sun, crisp air and crisp leaves and some very happy children and dogs romping at Lakeview. Several tombstones were decorated with pumpkins. We brought an offering of children's laughter. Then, it was off to the Garden for our first time to the annual Boo Bash. Swarms of littles in costumes and a perfectly spooky children's garden awaited. Fog machines, dangling ghosts, some amazing bubbles lit by a black light... our trek through the darkened gardens was magical. Our cameras simply could not do it justice. Inside, there were some nice stations with crafts (Jack's favorite-- the ghost on a popsicle stick which he could "pop up" to scare us) and a feast of cider and donuts. Sadly a great deal of our time was spent waiting in line for a balloon from the balloon clown... some 30 children in front of us... we gave up after about 15 to head outside and next year-- we're hitting the children's garden first. Still, it was a great night, and Jack's rocket costume drew accolades everywhere we went. Our little alien, sadly, had to play second fiddle, but she contented herself with holding a green pumpkin kaleidoscope, stealing donuts from us, and taking in the scene with rapt fascination.