Nine and change

This ode to my newly minted 9 year old is a slight bit overdue, considering her birthday was three weeks ago. But also considering that I didn't get any of these written last year, I'm doing pretty good for this year.

Turning nine this year proves that my middle child is quietly sneaking up on us. It's hard to be sandwiched in the middle, living in the shadow of an older sister and in the after-math of a whirlwind of a little brother. Given that so much parental attention needs to follow the oldest as we all explore unchartered territory (middle school...need I say more?) and also follows the youngest as we continue to work on discipline and respect (and responsibility...and following directions...and using words instead of actions...and...).

Luckily for our middle child, she is very different from her brother and sister, who are very alike to each other. Our younger daughter stands in her own light, which she casts into that shadow of her older sibling. And she has unbelievably strong roots so as not to get blown away in that whirlwind from her brother.

With what I like to call an "old soul", our daughter has the ability to connect with us in ways that her siblings do not. It's in the look in her beautiful blue-green eyes, it's in the curve of her smile, it's in her recognition and connection with us about the craziness that goes on around us all in a family of five.

She just "gets it"; she understands that we all have to wait our turn for certain things. And better yet she knows that making other people happy is sometimes as good as - or better - than making ourselves happy. This is something that a lot of kids don't learn until they are out of college...or ever.

And just when I'm worried about her not being silly enough and embracing her childhood, she'll take her silly putty and shape it into mustache and place it on her face, waiting to surprise the next person that looks at her.

Though she can still very often be reserved in her behaviors (much like her painfully shy days of preschool), she quietly moves forward in life. Without us even realizing it, she will master a new skill like skateboarding, or she will run for class representative in her 3rd grade class - and get elected.

In fact, she forgot to tell us about her classroom election for 3 days.  In one single day she decided to run, wrote and delivered a sensible - and a little bit silly - speech, and then won the election in her classroom. And then she just sort of let life go on as normal, remembering to tell us about it all several days later.

So here's to you my newly minted nine year old - my birthday wishes for the next year.

• May you always shine your own light and glow in the knowledge that you are special and unique and deserving of every bit of attention that flows your way.

• May you always have strong roots and and continue to build a foundation of love, respect and patience, both from others, and from and within yourself.

• May you never loose sight of the value of a little silly behavior, keeping you young at heart.

• May your quiet strength and confidence continue to grow and flourish through the years.

I love you sweet pea.

She's Seven

Today is my middle child's birthday. She turned seven years old.

Lucky number seven. Lucky for so many reasons if you ask me.

I feel lucky to have such a wonderful person in my world. She is so full of life, so kind and loving. Over the past few years she has shown us all so much more of her personality. She's found her voice and her comfort zone and she's not going back.

Gone are the quiet and shy days of the past. In fact now most days she is not at all quiet. Rather loud I'd say. She can let out a wail with the best of them, just to make sure you are paying attention. I keep telling her she can't 'cry wolf' all the time or else I won't know when she's really hurt. So as if to prove a point, last week she had an incident that created our first accident-based doctor's visit, a near-miss with stitches. And did she cry? Not a bit. She just calmly walked up to her dad and said she got hurt. No wailing, no tears. But a lot of blood.

I guess I was wrong. There are some quiet moments in her life.

She also quiets down when she's being serious. Serious enough to tell me that she's sad about someone else being sad. That it hurt her 'on the inside' when she saw her friend get hurt.

And she's rather quiet when she's working away on an art project. Not one for video games, she'd rather do hands-on stuff. Her brother and sister could probably sit in front of a screen all day. But not her. She's got to get up and get out. Get working on a project or playing a game or sport.

I also think this year is lucky number seven because she's sort of catching up to her big sister for a little bit. For the next year or two they will share some really fun times. Right now they are loving being the girls in the family, and we have so much fun when it's 'girl time'. She adores her big sister, and tells her so. She absolutely radiates when her big sister is being sweet and nice and playing with her. She seems to know how important she is in this duo, even if her older sister isn't even aware of it yet.

So here are my birthday wishes for you this year, my little love.

• May you always have your voice, and may it always be heard, whether loud or soft.
• May you always stay calm and resist the panic, even in moments of fear or confusion.
• May you never lose your empathy for those around you.
• May you always get up and get out, taking full advantage of all that life has to offer.
• May you always realize how important and loved you are, even when it's not stated out loud.

Happy 7th birthday big girl.

Six so soon?

Today is the 6th birthday of my middle child. Otherwise known as my younger daughter and the only child that gets to be both "big" and "little" sister in our family.

What a year this has been for her. I can't even begin to adequately describe the growth that she has embraced over the past 12 months.

A year ago she was still reluctant to let us go when saying good-bye. It was just about the time that she was finally not crying anymore, but she wasn't running off to be with her friends either. She was doing the silent good-bye without looking back for fear that she would see what she would be missing.

Nowadays, we can drop her at school and she'll give us a little smile good-bye as she waltzes right into class. She started Kindergarten this fall, and although I haven't written about it, the experience has been wonderful.

We were worried that she didn't know anyone and weren't sure how she would be socially adapting to a new school and a new group of friends. But she was fine. Absolutely great in fact. She soon learned to love school and reported playing with a couple of friends. Boys, of course. And those couple are still her friends to this day.

She also started going to an after-care program after school. After a rough first day, she adjusted and soon learned to love the extra arts and crafts time too. As well as seeing those same two buddies for a little longer. Now she stays the full day and has never once complained. She really does love exploring this new little world she lives in.

This past summer she went to her first camp. She never before wanted to go to a camp. But this year she did a basketball camp with one of her friends. And she had a great time. Not a single problem dropping her off, never a complaint. Then later in the summer she was at the same camp that I volunteered at for the Girl Scouts. Her older sister went off to her group, I went off to mine and she and her brother went off to theirs. And she loved it. She really loved it. I have to say I think she even ruled the roost a little bit in her group. She was the oldest (not by much) and it was right up her alley; tons of arts and crafts and playing in the dirt.

It's like she's really starting to have fun with her childhood. For so many years she seemed to have one of those worry clouds over her head. Not really so much at home, but definitely when she went out into the world. But slowly that cloud has disappeared over the past year. And I like to think it's being replaced by one of those big yellow happy faces.

A few weeks ago she had another first. She was invited to a friends party at a little kids gym place. Do you happen to remember my stories about her going to friends' parties in the past? The way she would cling to me? The time we actually had to leave the party because there were too many people and too much noise? Well this time she went right in. Joined the group and never looked back. In fact, my husband took her and he ended up leaving her there while he went out and "ran a few errands". Probably at Starbucks. And she was great! She had so much fun she has asked to go back there to play. And asked. And asked.

Over this past year she has really adjusted to the world around her. She used to be afraid to look around and see what was waiting for her. She was overwhelmed by large crowds and noisy places. Now she is opening her eyes and taking it all in. And after a sage assessment of what's in front of her, she is participating. At least most of the time. Almost all of the time really.

She's answering people's questions when they ask her her name or her age. She's socializing with friends every chance she gets. We even took her along to my son's preschool holiday party last week and she was perfectly content going from craft table to craft table making things. In a room - a large room - full of adults and kids. That was loud. And warm. And that would have caused her to completely shut down a year or so ago. But this year she didn't care. She wasn't worried at all.

She even sat on Santa's lap for the first time this year. Despite her trying to talk her sister into believing that there is no Santa. I think that's just her rational side that she let's take over a bit too often.

This girl always has two feet on the ground. She's patient, loving, and incredibly grounded. Sometimes she's so sensible I want to tell her to just let go and have some fun. But then the next thing you know I'll see her pretending she's Buzz Lightyear shooting the aliens, and I'll realize that she does have a fun and creative side to her. It's only just now starting to really come out from underneath her emotional security blanket.

Here are my wishes for you this year, my beautiful six year old girl.

May you always keep your eyes open to the world and all that it has to offer.

May you always see the light that you add to that world, and may it always shine brighter with every year.

May you always choose your friends carefully and know that where one friendship ends another can begin.

May you never loose your sure footing on this earth, keeping your balance and sound judgement.

May you never forget that sometimes the creativity within our own minds lights the path to our dreams.

Happy birthday my love.

What a Difference

What a difference a year makes.

Last year around this time I wrote a post about our younger daughter having a tough timegoing to her friend's birthday party. That party was at a jump house place and the second we walked in my daughter wanted to turn around and go home. Mostly because she's not crazy about big crowds or loud noises, and this place has both when you fill it with 20 little four year old kids and their parents.

Now flash forward to this year and this same friend has her party at the same place. Yes, the same place, much to her mother's chagrin. I told the mom that I'd do my best to talk it up and see if I could get my daughter to agree to go.

Apparently that worked because the week of the party she said she would give it a shot.

And then the day of the party came and she said she wouldn't give it a shot.

Nonetheless, since we were committed to it by that time, I said we were going. I made it clear that if she wasn't happy we always had the option to leave. Or to just wait it out for cake.

So we showed up and you'll never beleive what she said to me when we walked in to the place.

"I want to go home."

What?

You thought it was going to be that easy?

Not a chance.

In fact, it took much of my energy and creativity and positive thinking for about 20 minutes before we finally got to a place where she would go into a jumpy with me. And let me tell you that these days I don't have a lot of spare energy just sitting on a shelf ready to go when I want it. But for this occasion, it was worth it.

When I saw that there was no one in the jump house with the basketball hoop I almost had her in that one with me, until some girls came up and got in it right before us. So she renegged. And she LOVES basketball, so I knew it was going to take a little special effort on my part to make this happen.

Next I eyed the obstacle course and saw that at that moment no one was in it. So quick like a bunny I got her over there and in it before she could complain. I feined needing help, acting like a big goof ball that was stuck to the inflatable. I told her to hurry or else someone else would come. I tried a number of tricks but she wasn't budging much past the entry point.

Then I started acting like we were on a pirate ship and told her we had to climb up the hill before the sharks came. This made her laugh a little, but she still wasn't all in. Finally we got on top of the little hill and waited it out for a bit. From there we could sort of feel more like we were in charge. Or at least above all the chaos.

At that point we were caught on film actually enjoying ourselves. The shame of it all.

Before long a little boy came through that I recognized, who happened to be named Jack, so I started calling him Jack Sparrow in my best pirate's voice. Then he bought into our game and before long he was saying that the sharks were coming our way. This then turned into us running out the course and back around again chasing after him - or perhaps he was chasing us - and having a bit more fun than either of us had thought would happen.

Then it was time to enter the next room for more inflatable craziness. Although I think we entered a parallel world really, because at this point my daughter was up and running, exploring everything in the room.

We threw some balls, climbed a wall and went down a very steep slide many many times, and then ended up in the basketball inflatable. She was happy as a clam shooting hoops and jumping around. She would play with friends that came and joined us. And if too many came along I'd see her start to shut down a bit, so we'd move over to the other side where there was another hoop to play with.

All in all, a very successful outing. Things are definitely starting to look up for her.

Another remarkable difference recently was during our trip to Disneyland. Last time we were there, which was actually two years ago, the sound of all the fireworks made her cry and she really didn't enjoy the show, watching it the whole time with her ears covered by her hands which were then covered by my hands.

This year she was perfectly happy to take it all in.

It's worth saying again; what a difference a year makes.

High Five

We are on a birthday roll in the house and today is our younger daughter's birthday.

She turns five.

And I think my husband and I are breathing a sigh of relief.

She's the passionate one in the family, and she saves it all just for us. She's quiet out in the world, but when she comes home she lets it all out. And her quietness combined with her passion can make for a girl that likes to express herself with noise and motion, as opposed to words. If I only had a dollar for every time we've told her to "use your words". We'd be living on a beach somewhere and she'd be able to karate chop as many coconuts as her heart desires.

I'm really hoping that this past year as a four year old was the climax of a lot of her behaviors. I do see her settling down a bit as she heads into the next year. Turning five is actually a pretty big deal. She's no longer a toddler, and she becomes "school age". We've really seen some wonderful changes in her lately.

She's SO much easier to drop off at school now. No clinging or crying. Although there isn't quite a verbal "good-bye" yet either. But again, she's living up to her reputation as the quiet one. She'd rather just silently walk away into the rest of her day, which she's excited about in some ways, and nervous about in others. Hence her silence.

Her teacher has said how much she adores her because she is sweet, she listens and follows directions, and she's nice to everyone.

She's taken quite an interest in playing with her friends from school and is always asking me when she can have more play dates. As much as I try to make it happen, it's hard to juggle and she's proving yet again that she can be very patient.

Although, even with all the desire to play with friends, recently she told me that she wants to be left alone more often. She says she needs to be by herself sometimes.

I know exactly how she feels.

In fact, I know how she feels in many ways. She's our child in which I see the most of myself. It's in her looks for sure. One day the UPS guy came to our door and she and I answered it. As I was signing for the package he looked at her and said "you have beautiful eyes." Then I finished signing and looked up at him and he surprisingly said "oh, you have them too!"

But it's more than just eye deep. It's that feeling that you are watching a bit of yourself walk around on the earth. I don't think I can define it exactly. It's just something in her spirit that connects with me.

And it could be that she hates skirts and dresses and loves to play sports and run around with the boys. Because I did that very same thing until I was in about 6th grade. Then I still didn't wear skirts and dresses, but I did start dancing with the boys instead of running around with them. I have a feeling she'll be a bit of a late bloomer much like myself.

It's funny how each of your children can be your kids, and yet you can see them in such different lights. You connect with them in such different ways. And I'm glad she has this connection. Because my first is my first. There's no other child that can compare to that. She's the first one to take me through so many experiences as a mother. And my last child is my last. My little one that I want to stay little, and that I'll cuddle with longer than either of the other two, simply because I know it's the last of my cuddling. And he's my boy.

So I'm very thankful for this connection with my younger daughter. She's the middle child that I hope will never feel lost in the middle. She's my girl that I will always keep an eye out for, and that I will always have a sense of what she might be feeling. But I'll never assume I know it all, because she surprises me all the time.

In the spirit of giving her her own light to shine in, here are my wishes for my brand new five-year-old.

May you always love to make funny faces and sing silly songs.

May you always be able to entertain yourself for an hour with construction paper, scissors, and a roll of scotch tape.

May you always love the attention from your siblings and yet cherish your time alone.

May you always be so careful in choosing your friends, and may you be open to making new ones whenever you need someone with which to share a snack or a play date.

May you never forget that passion is what makes for an exciting life, no matter how it is expressed, so long as it's peaceful.

May you forever know exactly what you want in life, and may you find the means of attaining it while still being nice to everyone.

Happy Birthday sweet pea.

Quotables

Here are some amazing quotes from my younger daughter in the past couple of weeks. I'm not kidding when I say that they were so funny and they were coming so often, that I started writing them down so I could save them in a blog post. And this is coming from the girl that doesn't offer too many words to the public. So today I'll speak on her behalf.

While in the car driving home from the library, talking about nothing in particular.

"We have the best family in the whole world."

Again, while in the car. Again, while talking about nothing in particular, certainly not baby-making.

HER: Where do babies come from?

ME: Inside your tummy.

HER: How do they get in there?

ME: They start out reeeaaallly small, and then they grow bigger.

[This is the same thing I told her sister and it seemed to end the conversation. Not so much this time.]

HER: But how do they get inside your tummy?

ME: Well they are in there and they are really really tiny.

HER: As small as a crumb?

ME: Yes, as small as a crumb. Even smaller.

HER: But how does the crumb get in there?

[Strike two.]

ME: It happens when a mommy and daddy are in love and it comes from their love. And it's really tiny. How small do you think it is?

HER: Like a crumb!

Then I divert her to something else.

One day we were in the kitchen and I was cleaning up some papers and art projects that came home from school with the kids. These same things that seem to accumulate on a massive level every day, let alone every week.

HER: What do you do with all the stuff that I bring home from school?

ME: Some of it I save, and the rest of it I recycle.

HER: You mean you throw away the stuff?

ME: Yes, but just some of it.

HER: Well whoever's mom would do a thing like that?

That'd be your mom, I'm afraid.

Another day we were...you guessed it...in the car. My younger daughter was talking about picking up her sister from school, and all the carpooling we do to and from school and soccer practice.

HER: It's a good thing we have so many booster seats. Cuz you have to have those for the kids in the car. If we didn't, mommy would get a ticket.

ME: That's right. You always have to be safe and make sure everyone uses a booster seat if they aren't big enough to ride without one yet.

HER: Yup. Cuz if you got a ticket then you and daddy would have to clean up the streets.

Good thing we have those booster seats because neon orange has never been one of my colors.

When I was trying to fix her bothersome cheap dresser from IKEA, I was pounding away at the side of it trying to make sure it would stay together. She came up to me and said one heck of a stunner.

HER: Daddy should do that.

ME: Why? I can fix things too.

HER: Yeah, but you're the pretty one.

ME (after regaining my composure): Well thank you for the compliment, but just because I'm pretty doesn't mean I can't fix things.

HER: Oh.

I'm not sure that one really stuck with her, but we'll have to reiterate that point again soon. Really, where did she come up with that? How is it that she assumed it is an either/or situation? I think we need to start a show called "Barbara the Builder".

And finally, one other time....in the car. Do you get the idea that we do a lot of driving around?

HER: Mommy how do they build cars?

ME: Well they start with something called an axle. And they connect wheels to it. And they make two of them for every car, they are called a rear axle and a front axle, one for the rear wheels in the back and the front wheels in the front of the car. Then those parts are connected with something called a chassis, which holds all the parts of the car in.

HER: Just like skin! Our skin holds all the parts of our body in!

Yes, our skin holds all of our parts in.

Including that amazing little noggin of yours.

Balancing Act

This past week has presented some new challenges for me. These challenges seem to be pulling me in different directions, so I am having to really work to maintain my balance in it all. I feel a bit like the guy we saw at the circus last week, that balances on all these rolling tubes stacked on each other. You just never know which way you'll get pulled, but you do you best to stay on your feet the whole time. Really, I think I just summed up motherhood right there.

This week for the first time ever, my oldest has voiced a strong desire not to be social. She's been at a local camp for a two week session. This is a camp hat she was at last summer and the one before, so she's familiar with it. And she's loved it every time. This year, four days into her 9-day camp, she exclaims she's done with it. Last Thursday they went on a field trip, and we all thought she was going someplace we go to a lot, but as it turns out, the event was sort of mislabeled and they went someplace different.

But where they went was not really the point. The point is more that my oldest daughter can go with the flow in almost any situation, so long as she understands all the parameters of said situation. In other words, she's a things-must-go-according-to-plan-or-I-must-be-forewarned-of-possible-detours-lest-a-meltdown-occur kind of gal.

So when this sort of detour arrived, she was not very happy. I don't know what happened at camp, but when she got home I got an earful. And a cupful of tears to go with it. Add to this unexpected surprise two little girls that seem to have taken on the role of camp bullies and you get one unhappy 7 year old. I guess these twin girls have been up to the usual elementary school mischief; calling people names, pushing them, cutting in line. Since when do we have 6 and 7 year old bullies, anyway? The drama is starting way to early these days.

After much talking I surmised that in a sense my daughter was homesick at day camp. It seems she'd much rather just hang out with me and her siblings at home, and occasionally roam the neighborhood for a playmate or two. When I proposed if she'd like camp better if one of her best friends was there in her group, she said she'd still not want to go if those "mean girls" were there.

Now don't get me started on how upset it makes me as a mother to see these girls stealing some of my child's carefree fun from her. Mama bear has her teeth bared and is ready to go tell those girls - and their mother - just where they can put that cut-in-line name-calling crap. Aarrrrgh.

But it's a waste of energy to do that, so I just day dream about it instead. And I tell my daughter - not in so few words - that we must make the best of it. The pep talks are working a little as she's having more fun this week, and she's been able to ignore the mean girls or steer clear of them so she can still have some fun. Although there were still tears showing up when it was time to go to camp yesterday. And whining today. This is just so unheard of for her.

But summer must go on.

Now on the flip side of this occasion is my younger daughter, who is now asking to spend more time out of the house. She got it in her head quite a few months ago that she wanted to try staying at her preschool all day, which includes a nap. I think a friend of hers was doing this from time to time, and most of the kids in her class are there for day care as well as preschool, so she's one of the few that leaves everyday at 12:30pm.

Well I finally decided to stop saying "someday" and we made it happen today. Right now she's at the school, seemingly refreshed from her nap, and playing for the afternoon with her friends. As she says, "it's like a play date at school". And that brings up another one of her requests; more play dates. And she wants more sleepovers too, like her big sister.

Seriously, who is this girl? I think I've gotten so used to her being so close and holding on so tight, that now that she's starting to let go I barely can get it through my head that she will really be okay if she does all these things. I don't think there will be any tears or "come pick me up right now" demands. She is telling me that she's ready and I'm starting to finally come around in believing her.

So here I am, letting one child go further down the path on her own, while the other that's been out frolicking all these years just wants to stay by my side.

As if I never noticed how totally different they are from each other. Here it is, right in my face.

Now I just need to remember how to balance in the middle to make it all work.

So Many Moments, So Little Typing

Where do I start? This past week had so many precious moments. And funny moments. And exhausting moments. And I wanted to remember them all so I could write about them later. Well not the exhausting ones because we all have enough complaining in our lives already. I know I do. But try as I might to capture all these moments in writing, they remained only written in my mind. So I'll try to sum up the good ones for you.

Last weekend we took my oldest to get her ears pierced. Yikes. Talk about an age marker. I can't believe she's old enough already. But we said we'd talk about it after her 7th birthday, and then we settled on her being 7 1/2. Which was officially last week. So off we went to the mall. And there were 2 girls ahead of her in line. The first one we saw was a very brave and stoic role model which I was pleased to see. Then it was time for the next girl to go. She was fine until the moment of truth on her first ear and she flinched just as the girl was doing the piercing. The job came out okay, but the girl started bawling and saying that it hurt and she didn't want the other one done. That poor mom had to calm her down and then talk her into sticking around for the other one, which she knew wasn't going to feel good. But thankfully she did it and survived. Then my daughter went up there and was very brave through it all. She ended up lucking out and having the second employee available to help when it was her turn, so she had both done at the same time. And she never shed a tear. Now she LOVES having her little pink crystal flowers in her ears. It goes great with her new haircut, which is about 10 inches shorter (and now Locks of Love is the recipient of all her patience over the past year).

Then last week was the end of the school year, which somehow gets translated into hurry-hurry-hurry-have-lots-of-events-and-meetings-and-too-much-fun-before-the-world-implodes. The first event that fell under this category was the recap and brainstorm meeting for the PTA Board. Did I mention that I got shanghaied into being an officer on the PTA next year? Okay, shanghaied might be a strong word. Let's put that under the category of It's An Honor To Be Asked To Serve My Country School, and subcategorize it under I Can't Say No. Anyway, back to the meeting. The only reason I highlight this event is because I had one of those "yes, that's my kid" moments. So here was this group of lovely ladies that were sitting around a family room in a lovely home, and I there I was with my two youngest rugrats. I brought them along (with fair warning to the group) and figured I'd put them in front of a show and they'd stay happy for a bit. Which worked for a while, but then my youngest got restless and decided to go up to the sliding glass door to watch the dog in the back yard. A little time passed and I was just thankful they were still quiet and staying out of the middle of the room and conversation. Then one of these sweet ladies gets my attention and points to her open mouth, and then points to my son, who is behind me. I turn around to see my son licking the sliding glass door and sharing a french kiss through the glass with a golden retriever. And he was leaving more drool on the window than the dog.

Yup. He's with me.

Another great moment from last week was on Thursday night. My younger daughter had a gymnastics "show". This is sort of a recital that they do every 6 months and invite us all in to watch from inside the gym so that we can feel like our kids are really getting something out of all the money we sink into the place. This being her 3rd or 4th show, and her being the rather shy one in the group (although she will always participate and perform, which we love) we weren't expecting anything too new. But low and behold, when it was her turn to run in and jump on the vault up to the platform and stand up on that platform all by herself to introduce herself to the crowd, she did just that. Did you get that? SHE DID JUST THAT. She introduced herself to the room. In a clear and somewhat loud voice. With eye contact no less.

Whaaaatt?! Who's child was this anyway? My husband and I could have been blown over by a feather. She's never done that before, and it was a HUGE step toward her blooming social side. One of the teachers, that she has had for the past 2 years, came up to me afterward and expressed her pleasant shock with it all. She couldn't believe it either. When I asked if she ever talked in class, she said that her public introduction was just about the most she's heard her say, ever.

One other moment from that night deserves a shout out. My daughter and her crowd pleasing introduction was not the first one to make an entrance for the class performance. The first boy that came in did so in the same fashion, running and jumping up to his shining moment on the stand. And just after his jump onto the platform, we all heard "ooooh....I try it!" and then we saw the streak of my son running past us all, crossing the entire floor exercise mat to reach the platform, then hurling himself at this kid's ankles up on the stand before my husband could retrieve him.

Yup, that's my kid.

So many moments in such a busy week. I wish I had time to capture them all with the details they deserve. But suffice it to say, just because this blog goes quiet for a few too many days, it does not, in any way, mirror what is happening in the daily life of this mom.

Best of Intentions

Sometimes I have the best of intentions, but it just doesn't pay off.  I'll think I'm doing something that will get me credit with my kids, but it turns out to be a bust.  And it's not that I chose to do it to win my kids over.  I just think it's what's best for them.  Or I think it'll be fun for them.  But sometimes it turns out it's not what's best for them, and it's not fun at all.  Instead, it's what I think I should be doing as a parent, and in actuality, my kid's not going to give me any credit on it.  In fact, I can end up in debt. 

So when it was time for my younger daughter's preschool family picnic yesterday, I had to stop and look at my account balance from this week to see if we should go.  Sure enough, I was in debt to her.

Earlier in the week I had volunteered to bring some fruit to a "Kindergarten Teacher Tea" at my oldest daughter's school.  This is a bit tricky to explain, but I'll give it a shot.  She had to go to a neighboring school for Kindergarten last year because our local school is overcrowded (there's the simple version).  So at the end of every school year our local school brings over all the Kindergarten teachers from this other school, who are teaching our local kids Kindergarten every year until our new school gets finished (this version is getting longer).  They come over after school and sip iced tea and lemonade while saying "hi" to all their former students from the past 3 years.  

Okay, moving on.  So I'm bringing fruit over and I'm excited for my oldest to get to see her teacher from last year.  Since I usually pick up my daughter at the curb in the car, this is a treat for me to be waiting at her classroom when the bell rings.  And sure enough, my daughter enjoys seeing us there, and enjoys seeing her teacher from last year.  And she enjoys eating all the fruit.  In fact, I'm not sure which one of these things she likes better.  

Oh well.  Best of intentions.  But on this one I did get some credit with my oldest, it just wasn't nearly as much as I thought would be deposited.

While this was all going on, my younger daughter is literally standing behind me with her hands in both my back pockets.  Which,  you guessed it, means her nose is in my ass.  But that's neither here nor there, it's just for your visual pleasure.

All these kids mingling around, along with all their parents that are there picking them up and all the teachers, has made for a very crowded space.  And she's not at all happy with it, even with a cookie in her hand.  So we sit down and get through it all with her on my lap.  In the meantime my son decides he wants out of the stroller to play around a little.  Which gives me hope that he won't end up being another shy one in our family.  When it's time to go, my son decides he wants to push the stroller and my younger daughter decides to hop in and let him push her. 

How very symbolic that was, now that I'm looking back at it.

Okay, so we're back to family picnic day at the preschool.  For the past month I've had it written on my calendar and I've reminded my husband and so forth.  And on Thursday, the day before, I suddenly realize we shouldn't go.  The funny thing is, all week I kept forgetting to sign up.  I think my subconscious was telling me something.  

We've been going every year for 6 years (when my oldest was in school there) but I don't think we should bother this year.  I flashed back to the other day at the school where my younger daughter was like glue to my leg.  She wasn't crying or anything like that.  She was just stuck there, not enjoying herself.  Later on she said something about that "thing" not being very fun for her because there were too many people.

And I realized that just because I think we should go to this family picnic, just because it's a nice event and we are invited and we've gone every year, and just because my oldest daughter used to love going, doesn't mean that we have to go.  Or that it's what's best for my kid.

So I nixed it.  The teacher asked when I picked her up Thursday afternoon if she would see us the next day.  I told her that we weren't going, and all my reasoning, and she was fine with it.  She even mentioned that since it's not my daughter's regular day at school, she understands not going out of our way to attend it if she's not going to have fun.

Friday morning came and I asked my daughter if she wanted to go.  Sure enough, she said she didn't really want to go.  Now there's a brilliant idea.  Asking her.  

When Friday lunchtime came around we instead had a family picnic at home.  For the past week she's been asking to have a picnic out in front of our house (usually we eat at the table out on our back patio if we eat outside).  So I got out the blanket, made lunch, and she and I and my son had lunch outside.  This was much more her speed.

When I asked her if this was better than a picnic at school with all her friends and their moms and dads, she said yes.  And when I asked her what was better about it, she said "it's at home".

Enough said.  

She may be the one that takes a little longer to fly the coop.  But I'm okay with that.  I'll keep her under my wing until she's ready to fly.  

And she will fly one day.  I know it.

A Little Time Will Tell

If there's one thing I've learned as a mother, it's that time heals.  A little time can really do you wonders.  Plus some patience doesn't hurt either.

After my last post, my husband and I talked about what else we could do to help our middle child along in the areas where she is driving us crazy still developing.  She really struck a chord with us, as I guess I did with some of you in writing that post.  But, as a few of you commented, what we figured out we really needed was more time and patience.

Patience is hard to come by these days.  Three kids.  Two schools. Five different activities every week.  Homework every day.  Do the math.  It just doesn't add up to more patience.

Nonetheless, we decided that when she gets stubborn, as she often does, we won't fight her so much.  We'll let her run her course and not try to bully her into behaving.  We aren't really bullying her, but sometimes that's what it feels like when we are trying to be more disciplined and she's just pulling so hard in the other direction.  We were trying to use our brute force in retaliation, foolishly thinking that we could win because we are bigger and smarter.

Not so.

If a mule doesn't want to move, it ain't moving.  And there are no fancy words or big muscles that will make it happen.

So the good news is that, for the most part, this tactic seems to be working.  Later that day, after I wrote my last post, we just sat by silently as she threw a bit of a tantrum at the dinner table.  After a very short period, she sat up and just finished eating her dinner, as we were trying to get her to do.  

And it worked again later in the week.  So my hope is that we can continue down this path.  Because as my husband and I discussed, we don't want her to feel like her stubbornness is the way to get our attention.  She's already been pigeon-holed into being the "shy one", so we really want to get through this phase with a bit more finesse. 

So far, so good.  And we have also been giving her more empathy for her anger, and new words to talk about it.  "The mean monster" is what she now sees as the anger that comes out and takes over at times.  And if I can catch her early on when the monster is just starting to rear it's head, then often times I can patiently walk her through it to the other side without too much of an episode.  

It turns out that this child does require us to be more present.  Her river runs deep.  She can't use the same words as us to understand the concepts, but she gets it.  And if we get on her side - I mean really get on her side and go to her depths, and not try to bring her over to our side - then she's right there with you the whole way.

It's funny, because in doing this, I realized we did almost the same thing for my older daughter many years ago.  Probably when she was a bit younger, and when we had more empathy and patience in reserve, but nonetheless, we did it.  And I'm sure that I would have forgotten about it if I didn't go through these exercises all over again.  Because, as I said before, time heals.  Those battles were so long ago that we aren't even showing any scars anymore.  And yet all the memories came flooding back over this past week.  Which made me see that there is a light at the end of the tunnel.  Because my oldest doesn't wage those battles anymore.

She knows we'll lock her in her room until she's 18 if she doesn't listen to us better.

As for the younger one's shyness, we are working our way through that too.  Today, on the way home from preschool, she said to me "mom, everyone wanted to be my friend today."  My heart just smiled and I said "well that's probably because you are so nice and sweet and your friends know that playing with you will be lots of fun."

She got a big smile on her face and proudly said "Yup.  So I played with everyone today."

Time heals, indeed.

Rainy Season

Doesn't it always seem to be the case that just when you think you are making progress, you end up losing your footing and slipping back down the hill a bit?  Okay, maybe not always, but sometimes, and when it does happen it's frustrating and exhausting.

We seem to be in that spot with our middle child.  And we are definitely all frustrated and exhausted.  

Just when I thought we were making headway on her social skills, we had a bit of a set back.  She's been so much better at school.  Drop offs are seamless. She's always playing with the other kids when I pick her up.  She's talking with them all and interacting like any 4 year old should.  It really makes me proud.

Now the bad news.  This weekend we went to one of her best friends birthday parties and she would not participate one bit.  Not only did she not want to do anything at the jumpy house place, she was crying on and off the whole time and saying "I want to go home," in her soft, sweet voice.  This has never happened before.   She's been shy, sure.  She's been hesitant to play, definitely.  But I can always get her going and engage her to participate in something along with me by her side.  This time, no go.  I tried all my tricks too.  I was perky and happy and funny.  I tried pretending like I was glued to the thing and I needed her help to get me up.  I tried tickling her and tempting her with basketball, in a jumpy that had absolutely no one in it but us.  All the things that usually work.  But I got nothing.  Zip.  Nada.  Except for tears, tears and more tears.  It was like she made up her mind from the second we entered the place (and not one minute before mind  you - she was perfectly happy the whole day and all the way there) and she wasn't going to budge.

So after a half hour or so, we left.  It just wasn't worth it anymore.  I never usually give up (or give in) like that.  That was a first for me.  

Wait.  I take that back.  That was a second for me.

The first was a few weeks ago when she refused to go into her gymnastics class.  I can't believe I almost forgot about it.  We were all the way there and inside with her shoes off and all.  And all the while she was saying, in a nice voice, that she didn't want to go.  And I was talking with her and trying to work through it.  But when the door to the gym opened up, she didn't budge.  

Then her brother and sister also ended up in tears at that same moment, due to other occurrences not worth detailing.  But suffice it to say, I'd had enough.  So we left.  Now that was a first.  I really don't give in like that.  Mostly because I can usually get my way.  Oh, I mean, I can usually get her to come around.  Because this is all about her, right?

On the plus side, she has been better with babysitters lately.  But we can still have an episode without warning where she'll just cry and cry and scream a bit when she has to say good-bye to me.  Actually, speaking of that, she did in fact do just that a couple weeks ago.  And the worst part about it was that I was leaving her with my husband.  And her tantrum only made him sad and angry.  Which made her more sad and angry.  And it wasn't pretty until after about 30 minutes when she finally calmed down through something fun and distracting that my husband maneuvered.

By then he was frustrated and exhausted.  Of course.

Now this morning she was digging her feet in again.  A lot of mornings lately she'll just decide she doesn't want to get dressed or go along with the flow.  And it aggravates my husband and I to no end.  We struggle and struggle to turn her around and it just isn't working anymore.

We are frustrated and exhausted.  Wait, did I mention that already?

Do you know how hard it is to stay positive and perky when you are pissed off?  But if you go down the toe-to-toe path with her, you'll regret it.  Because this girl can dig her feet in.  And then the calm refusals turn into outright loud and obnoxious refusals, and you are no better off.  I thought I knew how to be stubborn.  But this little one takes the cake.  So your best ammunition to turn things around is to stay positive and win her over to your side.  Which usually works.

It's just zapping all our energy in the meantime.

And lately I've tried reinstating the sticker charts for rewarding positive behavior.  But I think I just don't have the time and energy to make it really rewarding for her.  Or else this girl needs more than the usual dog and pony trick to keep her happy.  Because it doesn't seem to be having much of an impact on her.

So where do we go from here?  She's so sweet and cuddly and lovable.  She's a little ray of sunshine.  

Until those rain clouds come.  And then watch out, because you could get a flash flood.

That's where I feel like we are at with her.  My husband and I are trying to hold the sandbag damn together while the flood waters keep rising and receding.  When will the rainy season stop?  As she gets older?  As she learns that we won't give in to her little daily battles?  How long will this all take?

More importantly, how long can my husband and I hold back the floods?

Frankly, I think she's the one that knows all about sandbagging.

Who's The Boss?

Sometimes I feel like I am losing control over my kids. It's not that I want to "control" their every thought and every move. 

Well, no, that's not true. I do want to do that. But since it's not a very popular point of view, let's just say that I just want to be able to say what happens when. And between you and me, we'll know the truth.

That's my job right? Control the flow of the day and make sure things that have to and need to happen, do happen.

Now it's time for breakfast. No, there will be no cookies for breakfast. Now it's time to go to school.  Yes, you have to go to school. Now it's time to go to gymnastics.  I don't care if you are tired of gymnastics, we paid good money for this class and we aren't going to waste it.  

YOU VILL DO AS I SAY.

The daily "fights" are everywhere, so I really don't need more to add to it.  And yet that's what I'm getting these days.

My middle child has become very savvy lately at being a good big sister.  She plays with her little brother and they have a ton of fun running and laughing.  She helps him when he needs a hand.  She generally just makes him very happy.  So much so that he gets quite sad when she tries to go off and do her own thing.  Last week she had a play date over at a friends, and after we dropped her off, he cried and cried in the car on the way home, saying her name over and over.  It wasn't until we got back into our plentiful airspace that I could distract him with the aowpanes.

But there's also one more thing she's very good at doing with him. Suggesting things that are not "on the schedule". 

For example, I try to keep the TV watching to a minimum, which means under 2 hours a day [according to studies...].  So I will have just turned off the TV after a major time allotment, and not more than 30 minutes later, she'll hear him say "Elmo? Tee Bee?".  So she'll ask him "Do you want to watch Elmo on TV?  Okay, let's watch Elmo."  And while he's getting himself all comfy on his favorite floor pillow in front of the TV, awaiting his next score to feed his addiction, she comes to tell me to turn on the TV.

That's when it all falls apart.  I have to be the bad guy.  And she doesn't understand why she can't make him happy.  And I'm frustrated and I try to explain it all.  But really, nobody is happy and it just exasperates us all.

This is what happens when anarchy strikes your household.

At breakfast time while the pantry is being browsed for breakfast items and he spots a box of his favorite treats, I might hear "Little brother said he wants a cookie.  You want a cookie little brother?  Yup, mom he wants a cookie."

After dinner, while my girls are about to have dessert and he's about to be put to bed without dessert, since he really has no clue he's missing anything, she'll say "We are having cupcakes! You want a cupcake too, little brother?".  She's just so excited about hers that she wants to share the experience with him, bless her heart.  But now he's repeating the word "cutcate!" over and over while I'm carrying him off to bed without one.

Little helpers are great.  I can't live without them really.  But they do add one more thing to the list of things I have to control during the day.  

Lest they take over the mother ship. 

The Good, The Bad, and The Crazy

THE GOOD:

My younger daughter seems to be progressing even more in overcoming her shyness. At school drop-offs she is actually going off to find a friend to play with instead of needing teacher interference. She still doesn't give an official "good-bye" when she wanders away, but I'll take her content enough to separate without crying or whining anyday.

She is also now fully participating in her gymnastics class. She has been going to the same place for 2 years now, and to date she had never really actively joined in the warm up time. Since this part of the class begins with circle time and talking, you can see why it never appealed to her. And even when they would get up and run around, she'd just sit and watch all by herself until it was time to start the gymnastics portion of the class. Then she was full tilt, showing her athleticism with pride. But as of the last two sessions, she is now rocking and rolling from the get-go, participating in circle time and warm up activities.

Then, just to prove that miracles really do happen, she started playing with a little girl she had never met before. This is absolutely unheard of in her four year old life to date. We were at her big sister's gymnastics class and this other little sister was lurking around, looking for a playmate to pass the time. While my daughter did not step right up and introduce herself (I had to do that part for her) she did participate as soon as this other outgoing little girl initiated some play time. I sat there and watched in amazement as the two of them played, giggled, and even talked with each other.

THE BAD:

This same daughter of mine had a bad spell with nighttime potty accidents during the holidays. After four nights in a row (you'd think we might have learned our lesson after two or three) we went back to taking her to the bathroom after she's gone to sleep, around 10pm. My theory was that she was just so tired from all the family in town and craziness of the holidays that she was sleeping deep enough not to wake up when the urge struck. We thought we had the problem kicked and stopped taking her at night about a week ago. Then she fell off the wagon again last night. To share the blame, we did not remember to take her to the bathroom when she went to bed, so that could have helped. And we should have because she had a lot to drink with dinner. Nonetheless, it made for another tiring episode sheet changing and pajama swapping during the night.

The kicker is she wasn't the one to wake me up in the first place. The other bad going on in our family right now is that my other two kids are sick. They have horrible coughs and my oldest has had a fever (just once a day) every day for the past several days. Her coughing was making such a hacking sound that I got up to check on her last night, and before I could reach her I ran into my little wet one.

Then I spent the next hour and a half thinking all kinds of thoughts instead of sleeping. Like, should I take them to the doctor? What will the doctor say? Is our doctor back from her leave yet? Wasn't I supposed to take the girls for their wellness checks soon? Why haven't they called me for a reminder appointment? I can't forget to call and tell the school that she is staying home again tomorrow. And call our carpool friend too. Why did (the other) she have another accident? Has she not been sleeping enough? Why has she been sooooooo whiny lately?

You can see how much fun that was. Almost as much fun as listening to my younger daughter re-exercise her inner whiny self lately. I thought we kicked that habit too, but it is rearing it's ugly head again. Whine, whine, whine. Cry, cry, cry. Fuss, fuss, fuss. That's how her day goes. Throw in a good jab or two at her sister, some wrestling with her brother, and a few bumps and bruises and you've about covered it.

Which brings me to the last topic.

THE CRAZY

That'd be me. Home for two days on my own with my kids, barely even seeing the beautiful sunshine we are having these days, let alone feeling it. Listening to the baby cry (he now has fevers) and my other two whine. With the occasional bout of calm throughout the house, since the one side benefit is that my son naps a lot when he's sick. And our unwritten rule is that if anyone stays home from school they get to watch about as much television as they can stand.

So now it's my turn.

Whine, whine, whine. Cry, cry, cry. Tears dropping right into my wine glass.

Wise One

Today is my middle child's 4th birthday. She's sandwiched between her older sister and her younger brother, and I'm thinking she may be the best one for the job. If my intuitions are correct, I think she'll be the glue that holds them all together.

She is fun and creative and loves to play with her big sister. And she's also silly and active, which makes her well-suited to play and run around with her little brother. On top of it all she is incredibly intuitive, sensitive and expressive, traits that will serve her well as both a younger and an older sibling. She's the only one in the family with both jobs, and I think she's up to the task.

The older my daughter gets, the more I see her colors brightening. She has had to live in the shadow of an older sibling, which has taken it's toll on her throughout the years. She was slow to make friends, since she had one built in right next to her all along. Not to mention all the friends that came along with her big sister, whose names and faces she knew long before she ever made friends her own age.

She was, and still is, slow to make conversation with others because she has had someone else to speak for her all these years. It has only been this past year or two in preschool, when her sister was no longer there, that she has been able to come out of her shell and enjoy making friends and playing along with kids her own age.

All along her spirit has been shining bright. If you didn't know her you might have missed it. She's shy to make eye contact and you'd probably just think she's cute and quiet. But it's in there. A beautiful glowing spirit that you see when you look into her eyes. When I look into her eyes I can feel it.

It's a selfless love and caring for others, fueled by a growing pride in herself. The more of the world that she learns to negotiate, and the more knowledge she gains, the more that pride grows. And I try to feed it every opportunity I can because I know it's still hungry.

She is our sweet little love bug. The one that still loves to cuddle and seek comfort in mommy's arms. The little girl that can turn from tears to laughter in a heartbeat. She is full of passion and not afraid to show it, when she's in her comfort zone that is.

And she's my child that never ceases to stop reminding me so much of me. Not just in the way she looks, which if you ask me is almost a spitting image, but in the way she behaves and negotiates her way through the world. Her compassion and empathy, her moodiness, her love of silliness. I hope she keeps it all and takes it further than me as she journeys through life.

Her name means "wise". Which I think is very appropriate. She truly is wise. One of the definitions of wise is having the ability to discern or judge what is true, right, or lasting. I see a big difference between that and being "smart". Even at just four years old, I can see this trait starting to form in her perceptiveness and keen observations. I hope it holds true.

My little love, here's my birthday wish for you. May you always feel so deeply, run so quickly, and have the freedom to act so silly.

Processing

First off, thanks to everyone that has given me their virtual hugs and support since we lost Enzo. It's nice to remember how many laps he lied on and cheeks he licked, whether you wanted him to or not.

We are still processing in our family. My husband and I have been much more affected by this loss, as I would have expected. And we have been wonderful support for each other, drying our tears as we talk about how strange and sad it is not to have him around anymore. It's truly amazing how much your mind and muscles have their own memories, and you have to stop yourself every time you go to do something for him, and he's not there.

As for the kids, I am seeing the reaction I thought I would see from my younger daughter. She's still at that age where she will talk about things and yet it is somehow still distant and not as much of a tear jerker for her. More on that in a minute.

I am not, however, seeing the response I thought I would see from our oldest. She seems to not be processing this loss at all, which worries me. Looking at it from my counseling and professional perspective, I feel like she is shutting out the sadness and not giving it a voice or any recognition. She questions why people say things like "I'll always love Enzo" when he's not around anymore. As if our love should die with him.

And she has hardly said a word about it at all since it happened. I'm getting concerned. I recognize that we are all different and process things differently. I just want to make sure there isn't a lot of sadness welling up inside, waiting to explode. Or worse yet, turn into anger. I tried to explain this to her this morning.

My younger daughter brought up Enzo yet again this morning as we were leaving the house. My three-almost-four-year-old was the one that mentioned him at least a dozen times during the day or two after his death. She started off by acknowledging that he was gone so we didn't need this or that anymore around the house. She just matter-of-factly stated it, in a sweet way that was her method of continually processing what was very real to all of us.

More specifically, on the morning after she found out, my younger daughter came downstairs to breakfast with a picture of him that she had drawn. Eerily, she drew it on black paper. This piece of mourning was a drawing of her and Enzo together. In the middle of Enzo's chest she had put a heart sticker. Then she told me that he had sad eyes, because she thought he was sad when he died. This all brought tears to my eyes, but I contained myself as I have been trying to do around the children. We then had a very nice talk about how we miss him and still love him.

I mean seriously. I don't know if I can take credit for her passion and empathy, but she reminds me so much of myself when I think about it. We both swing hot and cold at the drop of a hat (oh, how I loathe her tantrums), and her sensitivity and insight at her age continually amazes me.

So this morning my younger daughter says she had a dream about Enzo last night. She says "Isn't that silly? He's not even here anymore but I had a dream about him."

I say that it is great that he visited her in her dreams, and that it just means that she misses him.

My older daughter then says that she never thinks about him. And she doesn't say it meanly, just like it's the right answer; like now that he's gone, she's supposed to move on, so that's what she's doing.

I take this opportunity to try to talk about feelings and how it's good to talk about them. I explained that if we get too much of one kind of feeling we can get out of balance. I also say that sometimes when we have too much sadness in us and we don't let it out, it can turn into anger.

She questions this, as she likely should, so I try to explain it a little more, but I don't do a very good job. We are trying to get out the door and I'm on my own with the three little ones, so the whole subject gets sidelined.

Every day I have been trying to prompt her to talk about it, but I'm not getting anywhere. I ask her if it makes her sad, and she just doesn't really go there. I ask her if she misses him and she just gives a little "uh-huh" type answer. I don't push it too far; just once or twice a day I ask about him when the topic comes up.

Since it's in my nature to talk about everything well past the point of enough-is-enough, I have to be careful around this one. But I do think it deserves some attention, so I will continue to nurture it, hoping for a breakthrough.

In the meantime, I hope he comes back to visit us all in our dreams.

I really want to give him another hug and kiss.

To Each Her Own

This year at Halloween my younger daughter reminded me, once again, that every child is highly demanding different.

Last week when it was time to try on her costume for a Halloween party, she put it on and tears welled up in her eyes. Who knew that Tinkerbell could be so offensive? She had asked to be Tinkerbell and I picked up what I thought was a very cute and girly Tinkerbell costume at the time. But apparently I was the only one of that opinion.

Well it wasn't really just me. It was my oldest daughter too. Which was part of the problem. I was thinking about things from her point of view and not my younger daughter's, which is the way I've been programmed for (almost) 7 years.

I picked out something that, without thinking about it, would have been perfect for my oldest daughter when she was the same age as her sister. But my younger daughter is a bird of a different tutu. She's not really into all the frill and fluff that a lot of little girls like when they are three or four.

And herein was the problem with the costume. "Too fluffy," she said.

So I altered it and took out some toule. And as I was hacking away at this sweet costume that I paid good money for, I was reminded that this was the third year in a row that I was committing such an act. My mind flashed back to a ladybug fairy outfit that was never even tried on when she was one and a half (and instead she opted for the bunny costume that her older sister wore when she was the same age) and a black cat costume that just wasn't comfortable last year (and rightly so since it was a bit too small despite the right age being listed on the label), so I altered it to be her own black clothes with all the trimmings. I really need to remember this next year.

After the alteration, Tinkerbell was cast aside and laid around on the floor for a few days, awaiting it's rightful wearer. But try as I might, I couldn't get my daughter to even try it on again until the day of Halloween. And then, as I had feared, it was still "too fluffy".

Being that we were due to her school's Halloween party and parade in a half hour, we just went through the ample supply of dress up clothes and picked something else. She chose a ballerina outfit, but true to herself, she picked the one with no fluff at all, just a pretty skirt attached to the leotard. She steered clear of the fluffy tutu that I had made for her sister's costume a few years back, even after giving it a quick try-on.

And off we went to the party and parade. Once again, she stayed true to her personality and, on the same stage where her big sister once sang out proud, she was shy and quiet, rarely looking up for the camera. But this was no surprise to me; she's always been my lovebug that likes to stay close by.

So we skipped out of everything a little early and came home to our safety zone. Upon arriving home, she immediately changed out of her costume and into her puddle-stomping clothes. With a huge smile plastered on her face and giggles that could be heard down the street, she played in the puddles, stomped in the mud and dug in the dirt until it was time to come in for lunch.

That night she was happy to put back on her ballerina outfit and keep things simple. No pomp and circumstance for this girl.

And after a bit of trick-or-treating, she was relieved to be back home where she could give away the candy (thankfully a little faster than she was eating it) and let the party come to her.

To each her own, my love.

Me Need Sleep

Last night was the third night in a row that our younger daughter has chosen to have an issue at two in the morning.

The first night she came into our room in a fury stating that her sister had taken her blanket from her while she was sleeping.

If I'm not mistaken this was also the night that her older sister had already woken us up at midnight, crying while in the bathroom. Lately she has had these "episodes" that come out of nowhere after she gets up to go to the bathroom. It's like she's not even really awake, but she'll be crying and then she'll argue with you if you try to help her or see if she's okay. And there's not a whole lot of room for rationalizing. You have to just get her back to her bed and rub her back, and she'll drop off back to sleep almost instantly. Strange.

So now here we were at two in the morning dealing with another issue. And if I fast forward this story it would include being awoken a third time about an hour later by my mom's dog, whom we were dogsitting. Twas a lovely night.

So my husband checked out the blanket situation and settled things. Of course that was just before I came into her room saying "Just give the blanket back to her!" which really wasn't necessary at that point, but somehow I was in a sleep-deprived fit myself and I needed to chime in.

There are many reasons why I love my husband, but this one ranks right up there toward the top. He's completely taken on the role of middle-of-the-night-issue-handler. He will get up and deal with the kids, in a calm manner no less, and let me stay in bed. I think mostly he does this because he knows what a bee-ach I can be if I don't get my beauty rest. And many times when I have to get up and deal with a completely inane reason for being awake, I get a wee bit ticked off and come back into the room fuming and unable to fall back asleep. Over the years he's figured out that he's better off handling the situation himself instead of being cursed at upon my return to bed. He's a smart one, that husband.

Plus he can fall asleep at the drop of a hat. Almost every time he gets up, he deals with whatever is going on, then gets back into bed and falls asleep within seconds. Usually before I've even gone back to sleep, even when I wasn't the one getting up to deal with the issue.

So the next night that our little girlie woke up, she came into our room saying that it was too dark. Never mind the fact that it was the same as it has been every single night for the last, say, two years. This time my husband went and turned on the bathroom light, even though the night light was already on, and then put her back to bed.

Then last night she came into our room and said she needed her back rubbed.

Now, come on.

Really? A back rub? Gee, I'd love one too. BUT NOT AT TWO IN THE MORNING!

I have a feeling she has now reset the little clock in her adorable little head and it is going off at the same time every night. And the result is an inability to get back to sleep, so she comes to us looking for a little help.

I know the feeling.

Now it's clock resetting time. I'm not sure what bribery I'll come up with this time, but whatever it is it better damn well work.

Me need sleep.

Girl Talk

Last night after dinner my daughters both decided it was time for one of their specialties. Chatting.

My older daughter had a cell phone that used to be my husband's. It's no longer charged or connected, so a long time ago it went into the toy box and has been one of the so very many little phones that we have around the house.

As it happens, my younger daughter was at that time playing with her new princess cell phone. Since my oldest wanted that pink phone, she asked to trade. When she was met with a curt "no" from her younger sister, she upped the ante.

"This one has like 8900 movies on it! Don't you want it?!" she said with excitement, holding up the old silver phone with no flashing lights or noises. And yes, she really said eight thousand nine hundred.

First off, I have to marvel at the fact that our kids these days are playing with toy cell phones. Back in our day I'm pretty sure we played with pretend rotary phones, and we were damn excited about them. And if they made sounds or had lights that was a serious upgrade, a phone with which to be reckoned. I mean they weren't even cordless for crying out loud.

Fast forward to today. Nowadays our phones are so savvy that they even play movies. And that's just a normal thing in the world of today's children. Movie-playing, music-rocking, weather-checking, text-sending, google-ready, multi-colored cell phones.

Where is this world headed in our lifetime? How about in theirs?

Okay, back to the story. So my oldest apparently made an offer that couldn't be refused and her younger sister snapped that old boring cell phone out of her hands and gave up the pretty pink phone in exchange.

Then each of them proceeded to chat on their phones for a while. My younger one had a mostly mish-mash conversation with lots of correct phrases in incorrect places. And a few incorrect phrases too. But she looked so cute chattering away on the phone and rolling her eyes around, it didn't really matter.

My older daughter had a conversation with her imaginary friend in which she was so excited because her friend was at graduate school and she was telling her all about it. She's chatting along and then suddenly she says "Hold on a second, I have a call on the other line."

Then she clicks a button and answers the other "call". After a couple of "uh-huh"s and "really?"s she clicks back over to her friend and exclaims that she is going to go to graduate school too, and she starts squealing for joy.

Thatta girl; gotta love the imaginary play that revolves around higher education.

I just watched in amazement as all this panned out. And I thought about how this scene, of the two of them chatting away on their cell phones, was exactly what I was going to be seeing in 8 or 9 years, but with actual people on the other end of the line. And actual cell phones that are going to cost us some moolah.

Of course we are already getting a taste of this girl talk in our house. My almost 7 year old's friends have started calling up the house from time to time to say hi, or to ask for a playdate or a sleepover. Never mind that it's usually completely the wrong time for their requests, as in right before dinner time or bed time.

A lot of the time their parents aren't even aware that they are calling my child. And these kids, including my own, aren't very well versed in conversation etiquette either. There's a lot of long pauses and unanswered questions. I know this because my daughter likes to talk on the speaker phone. It drives me a little crazy sometimes and I have to move the conversation along or make sure that my daughter is at least being polite and paying attention to the person on the other end of the phone.

It's actually gotten to the point in our house that my daughter now jumps for the phone when it rings. She really jumps.

Seriously? Are we here already?

She only answers it when she sees that it's someone she knows, usually my husband or one of a couple of friends that call. But I'm not liking it when I go for the phone and realize she is on the other end, not saying anything, just listening in as I chat with her friends' parents.

Since when do I have to fight for the phone around here?

Since when is everything all about her?

Call me later and we can chat about it.

But be prepared to be screened by a precocious 6 year old that may or may not actually say "hello" when she answers the phone.

Breaking the Bank

Somehow lately we seem to be spending as much money on band-aids as we do, say, on milk. You know, something vital that my children need to grow strong and healthy. And yes, I am referring to the band-aids here, not the milk.

The culprit in this breaking of the bank is my middle child. She is almost four, and apparently she's at the height of her accident-prone days. Which seems to be timed perfectly with her bandage loving days.

Although we also went through this budget-buster phase about three years ago with my oldest. I remember them well, those constant requests for a band-aid, even for the littlest of scrapes that were all but invisible to the naked eye. It seems like every day I would find loose band-aid wrappers and those little waxy strips all over her bathroom. Or every time I picked up a doll I would find a matching set on her knees, or across her face. Sometimes even the stuffed animals got wounded - and those tattoo bandages don't come off of fur too easily, just take my word for it. Back then the boo-boos were abundant, no matter if they were fact or fiction.

Now, here I am again, three years later. Following the trail of wrappers all over again.

Indeed my younger daughter does manage to take some diggers. Her biggest bleeders are the knees, at least one of which has had a band-aid on it since late 2006. So there is a definite need for keeping the medicine cabinet stocked (as much as I'd like to just say "sorry honey, we're all out of band-aids").

Of course she is also magnetically drawn toward getting paper cuts these days too. And I use that term loosely, since any tiny piece of skin that might be dangling a bit is considered a paper cut and is in immediate need of a bandage.

She'll even put a band-aid on a wound that is already healed. If it has the fresh pink skin showing it's still in need of first-aid in her book.

What really kills me is that she CANNOT STAND to take them off. She winces and whines and seems to be in way more pain than she ever was when she first got the injury. Or didn't get it, whichever the case may be.

The result of this fear of taking the band-aid off is that she insists on not interrupting the process. It must happen organically. Which can take a long time with those seriously sticky tattoo type band-aids. A loooong time.

Inevitably, she will have one dangling half off her knee for days, and she will not let me get anywhere near it. It floats off her skin in the water during bathtime and catches on every pair of pants at every potty break. It is practically begging me to pull it off. I mean if the band-aid could talk, I really do think it would ask for a little mercy.

And yet, she will protect it with her life.

I'm hesitant to admit that many a time I have just ripped them off her when she wasn't paying attention. She'll be happily singing along in the tub and - RIP! - I'll take that sucker off. And I always have a good excuse. "It got caught on the washcloth sweetie, I'm so sorry!"

Needless to say she can't stand it, and she is likely to blame my torturous ways for many a lost achievement in life as she grows up.

The other night she had one hanging off when she went to bed. I asked yet again if she wanted me to take it off; I even offered to sing a special song or tell a joke so that she might agree. But no,she wouldn't hear of it.

It had been working towards freedom for at least 2 days already and I still wasn't allowed to touch it. It was barely even hanging on anymore, and I just couldn't take looking at the thing one more day.

So I did the most natural maternal thing I could muster and I waited until she fell asleep.

I went in for my usual bedtime check-in, and she was happily slumbering. I found her knee and eyed up my victim. I wasn't sure if I should go fast or slow, given that she was probably going to stir a bit and I didn't want to miss my chance.

So I went with the fast approach. RIP!

And much to my surprise, she even exclaimed a bit and popped her eyes wide open.

Yikes! I hadn't expected that.

But then thankfully she just rolled over and drifted back off to sleep.

The next morning she found me when she was getting dressed and said "Mommy, my band-aid came off!". I told her it must have come off in her bed while she was sleeping. And sure enough, she went and found it, right where I left it under her sheets.

Then she showed up a minute later and said "Look mommy! I put another one on - it has Tigger on it!"

Fabulous.

Pooh and Tigger tattoo band-aids, Barbie band-aids, neon colored band-aids.

If you've got a boo-boo, come on over. We've got all kinds.

But not for long.

Progress Report

I’m happy to report that my younger daughter is branching out.

As you may remember, her good-byes were wearing me out, and her wariness around anyone that doesn’t live in our home was weighing me down.

So I made a plan and I tried to keep it simple.

First and foremost, pay attention to her. Sounds easy enough, but in this house, and at this age, she became easy to over look.

All the new accomplishments of our older daughter were taking up a lot of space (“She’s reading chapter books! She’s starting 1st grade!”). Not to mention those of our son (“Honey, did you hear him say “car” when he picked up my keys!??! He’s such a genius!”).

She was truly lost in the middle. She has a vast vocabulary already, and she has been at the same preschool for the past almost two years. Not too much new going on there.

So I started really watching her. I showered her with love and attention. I spent a little one-on-one time with her working on things like learning the letters of the alphabet, completing puzzles, playing computer games or building neighborhoods out of blocks.

And I congratulated her every new, and old, accomplishment. I supported and encouraged her in the face of each challenge. In short, I concentrated less on the end result and more on the process.

Again, sounds easy, I know. But with so many other things going on in the house, it was even easier for this kind of attention to fall by the wayside for a while.

We also set up some play dates for her, no big sisters allowed. I put up a sticker/reward chart for her “good good-byes” as we liked to call them. And not to be overlooked, a special shout out goes to my husband, who started taking her to school more, which helped set her up for success with a better ‘mommy good-bye’ at home.

And then it happened. She started to blossom.

At first I thought maybe I was just imagining it. But then I realized she really was growing. Her spirit was getting bigger and stronger, and her sense of pride in herself was becoming almost visible, shining right through those beautiful eyes of hers.

I even caught her one time the other day trying to do something while muttering “you can do it, you can do it” over and over again.

Then yesterday, upon picking her up from school, her teacher told me that she played with all the other girls in her class all day. She said she was running around with them laughing and having a grand old time. And then her teacher said “and she’ll even say good-bye to me, right?” and on cue, my daughter did just that, instead of burying her head into me and playing shy upon leaving like usual.

Today I saw her teacher from last year who had a similar report. “She’s really out there playing with everyone!” she said. “I knew she had it in her. Don’t you worry about that one, she’s a loud one when she wants to be,” she informed me.

Indeed she is.

Look out world, here she comes.