smiles in the rain

I spent the past weekend inside, grumpy about the muggy, rainy weather. The very worst kind of fall weather- miserable inside, miserable outside and even miserable for cooking. No good for pumpkins, hayrides or the Renaissance Faire either.

But Claire? She takes each day exactly as it comes and makes the most of it. Each place, each person, each simple trip offers things to explore. She is always learning. Always questioning. Never assuming she knows how something will work until she gives it a try.

And above all, she is always up for playing in the rain.

the joy of cooking, with kids

Step 1: Get yourself some nice fresh apples

Step 2: Prepare your favorite pie crust (for me that would be a Pillsbury ready made crust).

Step 3: Select 6 or 7 medium size apples. Peel, core and chop into 1/4 inch thick pieces. Ask children to add 3/4 cup of sugar, 2 tablespoons of flour, 1/8 teaspoon of salt and 1/2 teaspoon of cinnamon.

Step 4: Mix well. Taste and or lick a few apples to make sure the seasonings are right. Then pour apple mixture into the bottom crust and cover pie with the upper crust.

Step 5: Carefully sprinkle cinnamon sugar on the crust.

Step 6: Get up close to lick/sneeze on/admire your work. Then bake at 425 degrees F for 30 minutes, reduce the oven temperature to 350 degrees F and bake for 30 to 45 minutes more.

Pie anyone?

Recipe adapted from my cooking bible, Joy of Cooking

ballet school drop out

It is official. We quit ballet class.

I am not a quitter. I like to see things through. You make a commitment, you stick to it. If you sign up for ballet class, pay for ballet class and buy ballet shoes, you go to ballet class. But watching Claire at a birthday party this week convinced me that the class is just not right for her.

The party, for a five year old neighbor, was held in one of those indoor gym places. There were about twenty kids at the party. A few were her age. Most were older. A few she knew, but most she did not know. The moms sat in one corner of the room while the kids ran, played and participated in various activities.

Claire had a great time. She was confident and full of smiles (see below). She got her face painted (see below). She ate cake and candy (see below). She occasionally checked in with me, just as her sister did, but she was not scared or clingy or worried.

Seeing her have so much fun in this group setting made me realize that the ballet class I chose was just wrong for her. I could have kept bringing her back. I could have stayed in the room with her and coaxed her to participate. Eventually she might have done okay, but she never would have been as excited as she was at this party. She never would have loved it.

So we dropped out of ballet. We will go back to library story time and perhaps a Mommy and Me class. Things that she clearly enjoys. Things that will be fun for both of us.

I will save the lessons about responsibility and commitment until she is at least three years old.


Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

a good mommy day

For much of the past week I have been in a bad mood for no good reason. My kids are happy and healthy. They have even been reasonably well behaved lately. The weather has been beautiful. Friends, family and husband are all good.

Sure, politics and the financial markets are a mess. Yes, there is the real fear that my husband could lose his job, the one that provides our one and only paycheck. And the world's fastest, most annoying, impossible to catch fly has been in our house for two days. All worrisome, but my bad mood is not really about any of these things.

It is more general, harder to place and therefore harder to shake.

So I go about my daily routine and I try to snap out of it, try to enjoy my kids. But I am impatient. My enthusiasm is lacking. I don't want to draw letters in the driveway or make a Playdoh snail, not because I have something else I have to do, but just because I would rather not.

But today it finally happened. A good mommy day.

Nothing changed, but everything changed. The stars aligned. Our morning activities and the kids themselves were no different than any other day, but I was happy mommy. I was tolerant. There was no rushing. No impatience. No yelling. As I colored with the girls, I savored the warmth of Claire's little body on my lap. I just smiled at my torn apart bed filled with books when I emerged from the shower. As we drove to Target, I did my best to explain gravity and make the requested animal noises. As we shopped for birthday gifts and Halloween decorations, my own good mood and a couple of bribes ensured the happiness of all.

The afternoon wore on. Despite no naps, both girls had a blast jumping and laughing their hearts out at a birthday party. Finally, they both collapsed in their beds.

A good day. A fun day. A good mommy day at last.

through the eyes of a four year old

With the brillance of a four year old, Abby captures being a parent vs being a grandparent.

Grandma:

Grandpa:

Mommy:

Daddy:



Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

a day in the life

I could bore you with this morning's uneventful trip to the playground or whine about my suddenly uncomfortable jeans, but instead I will steal this meme from Candy over at Everyone has a Story to Tell. This is Ours.

The rules: Post one of your favorite pictures of you & your children, and answer the questions below.

Okay, here we are:

I actually could not find a single picture of the three of us together, so I had my mother take this one.


1. How many kids do you have? Two

2. What are their ages? 2 and 4

3. What time do you usually start your day? Around 7:30

4. What do they eat for breakfast? Cheerios and fruit during the week; Daddy's pancakes on Saturday mornings.

5. Do they get to watch T.V.? YES. Sponge Bob, Super Why and Dora are current favorites.

6. What's their favorite activity? Destroying the house together as part of some elaborate game only they understand. Dressing up the cat. Dressing up each other. Playing with their Polly Pocket Princesses. Crafts involving glue.

7. Do you get a break during the day for some "you" time? Yes. My two year old takes a nap after lunch and my four year old watches a movie in our bedroom. Sometimes she sleeps, sometimes she does not, but either way we both get a break.

8. Your bedtime routine? Bath (by Daddy if he is home), books in Mommy and Daddy's bed, then I rock Claire to sleep and Daddy cuddles with Abby.

9. How do you end your day? On my laptop writing, reading blogs and editing pictures. Soon I will have to balance this with Grey's Anatomy, Heroes and all of the other TV shows I am sure to get sucked into.

10. What's your best parenting advice or tip? Try to relax and live in the moment. It all goes so fast. I am working on this one myself.

baby number three?

It all started with back to school clothes. Abby grew two sizes over the spring and summer months, meaning every single piece of fall and winter clothing in her room is now ridiculously small on her.

So I packed up her old clothes to store in Claire's closet. This meant I needed to make room in Claire's closet. The most logical way to do this? Pass along her 12 and 18 month clothes to the dear friend with a baby girl exactly two years younger than Claire.

I pulled out the sweet little coat she wore last year. The pants she wore as she learned to walk. I couldn't do it. The clothes remain piled in my bedroom.

And just like that, after six months of certainty that our little family was complete, the debate began again. Should we try for just one more baby?

I love being pregnant. Love nursing. Love the sweet smell of new baby.

I have no words to describe what an incredible blessing a new baby is. The wonder and the magic of a new life, a new member of the family to know and love. And there is the possibility of a son, completely foreign in this house of girl. Next year both girls will be in school, so maybe the timing is good?

I am not getting any younger. Years from now, I don't want to look back with regret.

But then there are all the practical concerns. Our house, our cars, our kitchen table all fit a family of four perfectly. We are past the days of being house bound, of traveling with loads of baby gear. The world is opening up to us again. Things are really getting fun. A new baby would send us right back to square one.

And then there are the more spiritual concerns. We have already been blessed with two healthy girls. Would it be greedy to ask for more?

Then there is concern for our girls. They are close in age and their personalities compliment each other well. I believe they are really, truly friends. How would a third child fit into the mix? With an odd number would one always be left out? Or picked on? Not to mention that fact that Claire is very happy in her role as "the baby".

And finally, there is the matter of my limited patience and the fact that I have already had two c-sections.

As the days go by, the baby lust is fading. We are settling into our back to school schedule. Life is moving on.

But how many more times will I have to make this decision? When will I know for sure?

the story of the second child

• Pajamas because she was woken from a sound sleep at 8:30 to bring her big sister to preschool


• Rain boots because, well, what else do you wear with footie pajamas?


• Doughnut for breakfast because she is all to familiar with the Dunkin Donuts drive thru


• Outside because Mommy loves loitering on the front steps with a cup of coffee and chatting with the neighbors

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

lessons learned at ballet class

Two year old Abby on her first day of ballet class:

Two year old Claire today on her first day of ballet class:

Last night, I started writing a post about Claire's first day of ballet class.

I was going to write about how far we have come in two years. How two years ago I was a new stay at home mom with a newborn and a two year old. How our one activity that year was ballet class for Abby. How stressful the whole thing was. How although Abby liked to dance, getting her ready was a major battle, complete with riped tights, fights over hair and potty issues.

How attempting to coordinate this with the baby's schedule of napping, nursing, spitting up and blowing through diapers brought me to tears more than once. How some weeks we just could not manage to make it to this one scheduled weekly outing, this one tiny contact with the outside world.

Then I was going to write about how much easier today was. How far I have come as a stay at home mom. How confident I am. How much simpler it all is now.

I was going to write about how much easier it was to get out of the house with just one child (it was). How excited Claire was to put on her ballet outfit (she was). How excited she was to run in her classroom and jump and twirl in front of the mirror (she was).

What I did not plan to write about was how as soon as the teacher closed the door, Claire looked like she was going to burst into tears. How suddenly all of her energy and enthusiasm were gone. How she looked down at her feet and played with her little skirt. How her bottom lip trembled. How the teacher coaxed her to participate in a couple of activities before her little face crumpled and she began crying for Mommy.

How she sat with me outside the classroom and continued to scream I want go home! as all the other girls happily danced on. How she perked up enough to accept a sticker from her teacher at the end of class, only to trip and fall in the parking lot and dissolve in hysterics again.

The new moral of the story? Don't get over confident.

Claire sitting next to her teacher, before it all went bad:

just another day at the playground

See more Wordless Wednesday here and here.

the perfect mother

Our days together are long. Frustrating. Hard.

I run out of patience. I say things I later regret.

I don't spend enough time praising the good. Living in the moment.

Yes, of course, there is love and joy and laughter. I hope this is what you will remember when you look back on your childhood, but I have no way of knowing.

What you don't know, what you have no way of knowing, is that long after you are asleep I come into your room. I brush your hair from your face and straighten your covers. I listen to you breathe. I admire your beauty, your sweetness, your innocence. I kiss you and whisper I love you. My heart over flows with love for you and joy that I am your mother.

If you happen to cry out in the dark, I am there to comfort, to sooth, to whisper again that I love you and it will be okay.

I am the perfect mother.

If only I could be this perfect mother during the daylight hours too.

the first day of school, and I am crying again

Drop off went beautifully. We were almost on time. The girl was dressed, her hair was brushed and her underwear was in place (those underwear checks are really paying off). I was wearing clean clothes and lip gloss. The baby had her breakfast of orange juice and dry cereal in hand.

Abby ran off to greet her friends, many of whom she has seen over the summer. She did not look back.

I made a quick exit with baby and shopping list in hand. I did not look back.

At pick up time, Abby came bounding out or her classroom, art work in hand and an ear to ear smile on her face.

I asked how her day went.

Mommy, there is a new girl in my class, she said. She was wearing a pink skirt and a pink bow and I am her friend she said proudly. She went on to discuss the toys they played with and how she showed her new friend around the playground.

I asked Abby if the teacher had asked her to be the new girl's buddy.

No Mom, she said, in a tone of voice that implied it should be obvious. She was just the new girl and didn't know anybody so I wanted to be her friend.

And just like that, I was crying again on the first day of school.

a new perspective

Hosted by Cecily and MamaGeek

I have struggled a bit with what to photograph lately. It is too early for the traditional Fall shots, but I am a little tired of summer shots.

However, I am still working toward my Project 365 goal of a picture a day, so today I decided to try taking some shots of the kids from a different perspective, kind of like she often does, and her too.

For these shots I got down much lower than usual and shot up. The dirty kid pictures are nothing special but I really like the perspective and how the background turned out. I will definitely be trying more of this.

Also- have you seen the relaunched Blissfully Domestic, with a section devoted to Photography? Fun stuff.

spoiled

This week the girls and I have gone to several stores to buy gear for their upcoming activities and their behavior has been terrible. Embarrassing. Embarrassingly terrible.

In Target, after selecting their dance and gymnastics outfits, both girls screamed and whined about how they had to have everything we passed that they even remotely recognized- I want that toothbrush! Those SpongeBob pajamas! Those Orange pants! Major tantrums took place over a princess doll and a pig costume for a dog (we do not even have a dog).

In a shoe store, as I struggled to find the correct size and color ballet shoes, my children ran off, whined, cried and took shoes off shelves. A major, all out tantrum took place over my refusal to buy a pair of Dora jelly sandals. And the store did not even have the shoes we did need.

I won't even get into the next day's trip to the sporting goods store for soccer gear.

My children behaved like spoiled, selfish brats. They did nothing but beg for more, more, more as we shopped for items for them, for the activities that they chose. We do not have much extra money around here. My husband and I do less so they can do more. They are lucky to even be able to participate in these activities.

Where did I go so wrong?

It would seem that I have not only failed to instill basic values, but I have also failed to instill any sense of how to behave in public, any sense of respect for my words.

In response, I have yelled, taken away treats and even threatened to leave a two year old child by the side of the road to wait for Daddy.

Not exactly my proudest moments as a mother.

Can't we just go back to Summer?

comfort

It is the end of a long afternoon. A day filled with the minor annoyances of the adult world.

I lay down my head for a minute.

A small but sure voice says "Look at me Mommy. Look at me."

I look, straight into a pair of blue eyes inches from my own.

"Why are you sad Mommy?"

I sigh. I tell her Mommy is just a little tired.

"I love you mommy" she says, "I love you so much."

She throws her tiny arms around my neck and presses her tiny body into mine.

I smile.

My two year old. When did she become the grown-up?