Turbo closed his eyes, turned his head to the wall and wished, "I wish that I could live inside your heart."
And so you do, little one. And so you do.
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Monday, July 22, 2013
Wishing Wells
Tonight I read a new library book to Turbo. In the book was a shooting star and the two adorable characters made wishes on the star.
Turbo closed his eyes, turned his head to the wall and wished, "I wish that I could live inside your heart."
And so you do, little one. And so you do.
Turbo closed his eyes, turned his head to the wall and wished, "I wish that I could live inside your heart."
And so you do, little one. And so you do.
Saturday, July 6, 2013
Turning Three
This blog entry might also be titled, Pinkmond.
One of my favorite quips to ever so wisely share with other moms is, "I thought two was hard until I met three." Well, I'mhappy ready to report that this is still right on the money in our home.
Of my two kids, Turbo has been the most challenging. Have you picked up on that? I mean, his nickname is Turbo. This kid loves to push the boundaries and seems to ask with each clever maneuver, "Is this the edge?" "How about this, is this the edge?" Repeat. He's also turning five soon and mellowing considerably. I can take him to movie theaters now (rejoice!), he's easily engaged in the latest Ninjago-Lego-sheriff role-playing games he's excitedly dreamed up, and I can look him squarely in the eye and tell him, "I know what you're up to." And he gets it and smiles back at me.
Smiley, on the other hand, has always been "my easy one." I have tried to avoid this phrase for worry it would creep into my spoken words at home and I would never want Turbo to think he's "the challenging one." Smiley from day one has been textbook on sleeping, eating, everything, and is, almost always, smiling. She is sweet, sweet, sweet.
Oh how the tables have turned. Smiley will be three soon and has found her scream. She startled herself to tears a couple of times by the intensity of her own screams, and looked around in panic for comfort from her mama. I remember asking her on one vociferous occasion, "Did that scream scare you?" "Yes," she nodded and sobbed and held me tight around the neck. Still cute. Still sweet, and now with an edge. A pink, wears-only-dresses, edge.
Earlier today our family was outside enjoying this extended stretch of sunny weather (thank you, weather gods), and my husband and I talked about options for replacing our deck, or at least the boards that are showing ground beneath them and thus creating alarms in my head every time I send the kids outside to play. It's time to get serious about deck repairs. Before long my husband had his tape measure out and both kids showed enthusiasm in their own unquie styles.
Turbo: "Dad, that's my tape measure. Give it to me."
Smiley: "I want a pink tape measure."
The girl loves pink. And dresses. And sandals. And with her curly hair, one cannot help but conjure up the old nursery rhyme, "there once was a girl, who had a little curl..." Oh, Smiley, please never tip the scales to horrid.
One of my very favorite things about Smiley is that she has so much to say. Before she had the muscles for real words, she would wake each morning as a smiley, happy chatterbox. When she really started talking, probably at the precise moment she turned 2.5, she surprised me with her thoughtful reflections. Had I not been so busy these past 12 months, I probably would have recorded each and every one of them. I've got a lot of time to make up, so here is one fantastic kidlogical-kid logic moment that happened about 60 minutes ago.
INT. Family Car - Evening
Smiley: "What town are we in?"
Me: "Redmond."
Smiley, with utmost certainty: "No, Pinkmond."
One of my favorite quips to ever so wisely share with other moms is, "I thought two was hard until I met three." Well, I'm
Of my two kids, Turbo has been the most challenging. Have you picked up on that? I mean, his nickname is Turbo. This kid loves to push the boundaries and seems to ask with each clever maneuver, "Is this the edge?" "How about this, is this the edge?" Repeat. He's also turning five soon and mellowing considerably. I can take him to movie theaters now (rejoice!), he's easily engaged in the latest Ninjago-Lego-sheriff role-playing games he's excitedly dreamed up, and I can look him squarely in the eye and tell him, "I know what you're up to." And he gets it and smiles back at me.
Smiley, on the other hand, has always been "my easy one." I have tried to avoid this phrase for worry it would creep into my spoken words at home and I would never want Turbo to think he's "the challenging one." Smiley from day one has been textbook on sleeping, eating, everything, and is, almost always, smiling. She is sweet, sweet, sweet.
Oh how the tables have turned. Smiley will be three soon and has found her scream. She startled herself to tears a couple of times by the intensity of her own screams, and looked around in panic for comfort from her mama. I remember asking her on one vociferous occasion, "Did that scream scare you?" "Yes," she nodded and sobbed and held me tight around the neck. Still cute. Still sweet, and now with an edge. A pink, wears-only-dresses, edge.
Earlier today our family was outside enjoying this extended stretch of sunny weather (thank you, weather gods), and my husband and I talked about options for replacing our deck, or at least the boards that are showing ground beneath them and thus creating alarms in my head every time I send the kids outside to play. It's time to get serious about deck repairs. Before long my husband had his tape measure out and both kids showed enthusiasm in their own unquie styles.
Turbo: "Dad, that's my tape measure. Give it to me."
Smiley: "I want a pink tape measure."
 |
| Say, they actually make pink tape measures. Can you say, birthday present? |
The girl loves pink. And dresses. And sandals. And with her curly hair, one cannot help but conjure up the old nursery rhyme, "there once was a girl, who had a little curl..." Oh, Smiley, please never tip the scales to horrid.
One of my very favorite things about Smiley is that she has so much to say. Before she had the muscles for real words, she would wake each morning as a smiley, happy chatterbox. When she really started talking, probably at the precise moment she turned 2.5, she surprised me with her thoughtful reflections. Had I not been so busy these past 12 months, I probably would have recorded each and every one of them. I've got a lot of time to make up, so here is one fantastic kidlogical-kid logic moment that happened about 60 minutes ago.
INT. Family Car - Evening
Smiley: "What town are we in?"
Me: "Redmond."
Smiley, with utmost certainty: "No, Pinkmond."
Monday, April 15, 2013
Stealing Thunder
Today is the tenth anniversary of my father's death. That is a very large statement and it requires some exploring and I had planned to write about my father today.
And then Boston happened.
I lost my dad to cancer and while that sucks about a hundred different ways, right now it feels like it pales in comparison to the sudden and shocking loss the families in Boston are experiencing tonight.
Perhaps comparing isn't all that helpful. Grief is grief.
Someone lost their 8 year-old son today. I am rocked with anger about an unnecessary evil that changed the path this family now has to take.
Jerks.
And then Boston happened.
I lost my dad to cancer and while that sucks about a hundred different ways, right now it feels like it pales in comparison to the sudden and shocking loss the families in Boston are experiencing tonight.
Perhaps comparing isn't all that helpful. Grief is grief.
Someone lost their 8 year-old son today. I am rocked with anger about an unnecessary evil that changed the path this family now has to take.
Jerks.
Thursday, April 11, 2013
Kid Logic, Kidlogical
They say it takes two to three weeks to either break a bad habit or start a new (presumably) good one.
Well, darn it, I got out of practice with blogging again and I sorely miss it. I like to tell myself you've missed me too. Time to get writing again, even if just to remember how grand it feels to hear the clicks and clacks of my keyboard and how magical it can feel when the words pour from my mind onto these pages.
My darling son Turbo has an inquisitive mind. I love that about him. Or, in Internet-speak, I <3 that about him.
With fresh fruit more abundant at grocery stores these days, my husband and I have started introducing the idea of dessert after a few meals each week. So far, we've had strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. Somehow, even though we are far far away from summer, the blackberries have been the overwhelming favorite as they were oh-so-juicy and not even a little bit tart. These kids are in for a rude awakening the first time we come across them growing on the local walking paths. "Sure you may eat those." "Mom, ew, these are terrible!" Or at least those are my memories when I ate them too soon in the season as a kid.
Tonight dessert was strawberries and before I describe the hilarious and beautiful kidlogical moment, I want to take a moment to pat myself on the back for introducing the concept of dessert without it having to mean piles of chocolate chip cookies or mounds of vanilla ice cream smothered in buttery caramel sauce... mmm, is anyone else hungry?
I am quite sure I do plenty of things the 'wrong' way (even though I swear there is no right or wrong in parenting), but this one feels right. Fruit is so naturally sweet and delicious and also full of fiber and other goodies. And I'm sure we'll have our chocolate nights too, but only after fruit is well-established as the norm.
Kidlogical moment #1
Turbo: "Mom, why are they called strawberries when they aren't made out of straws?"
Well, darn it, I got out of practice with blogging again and I sorely miss it. I like to tell myself you've missed me too. Time to get writing again, even if just to remember how grand it feels to hear the clicks and clacks of my keyboard and how magical it can feel when the words pour from my mind onto these pages.
My darling son Turbo has an inquisitive mind. I love that about him. Or, in Internet-speak, I <3 that about him.
With fresh fruit more abundant at grocery stores these days, my husband and I have started introducing the idea of dessert after a few meals each week. So far, we've had strawberries, blueberries, and blackberries. Somehow, even though we are far far away from summer, the blackberries have been the overwhelming favorite as they were oh-so-juicy and not even a little bit tart. These kids are in for a rude awakening the first time we come across them growing on the local walking paths. "Sure you may eat those." "Mom, ew, these are terrible!" Or at least those are my memories when I ate them too soon in the season as a kid.
Tonight dessert was strawberries and before I describe the hilarious and beautiful kidlogical moment, I want to take a moment to pat myself on the back for introducing the concept of dessert without it having to mean piles of chocolate chip cookies or mounds of vanilla ice cream smothered in buttery caramel sauce... mmm, is anyone else hungry?
I am quite sure I do plenty of things the 'wrong' way (even though I swear there is no right or wrong in parenting), but this one feels right. Fruit is so naturally sweet and delicious and also full of fiber and other goodies. And I'm sure we'll have our chocolate nights too, but only after fruit is well-established as the norm.
 |
| All hail the strawberry! |
Kidlogical moment #1
Turbo: "Mom, why are they called strawberries when they aren't made out of straws?"
Kidlogical moment #2
Turbo: "Mom, why are they called walkie-talkies when we don't walk on them?"
Keep the questions coming, kid.
Saturday, February 16, 2013
Date Night
The best thing about a date night is that someone else puts your kids to bed.
The worst thing about a date night is that someone else puts your kids to bed.
Having a little freedom from daily tasks is an important part of feeding one's own needs, as well as showing your kids that mom and dad are people who love each other and need time alone, away from all the fabulous Lego-building and paint-cleanup.
It's also sometimes impossible for me to accept that I missed a single moment in my kids' lives. I know it's good for both mom and babies, but it's also hard to step away.
I am in love with my kids. I will enjoy time outside the house with my darling spouse, and I will continue to look for fun outings without the kids. And yet, my heart still tugs to bring me back to the moments I leave behind, the PJ's that Smiley willingly, or regrettably, got dressed into, and the books that someone else read to Turbo.
Necessary conflicts, these.
The worst thing about a date night is that someone else puts your kids to bed.
Having a little freedom from daily tasks is an important part of feeding one's own needs, as well as showing your kids that mom and dad are people who love each other and need time alone, away from all the fabulous Lego-building and paint-cleanup.
It's also sometimes impossible for me to accept that I missed a single moment in my kids' lives. I know it's good for both mom and babies, but it's also hard to step away.
I am in love with my kids. I will enjoy time outside the house with my darling spouse, and I will continue to look for fun outings without the kids. And yet, my heart still tugs to bring me back to the moments I leave behind, the PJ's that Smiley willingly, or regrettably, got dressed into, and the books that someone else read to Turbo.
Necessary conflicts, these.
Sunday, February 10, 2013
Smiley's Songs
Kids grow up so fast, said every mom in the universe ever.
It's because this is true that I sometimes want to capture every living breathing thing that my kids do and say, and bottle it or record it or write about it or something... anything to preserve a perfect moment.
I have, however, convinced myself that writing about the little things will bore the socks off of you and I tend to blog about the bigger moments instead, or at least for the extremely hilarious and sometimes shocking things that Turbo churns out.
And then there is Smiley. Sweet, cute, cuddly, adorable Smiley. She gets plenty of my attention, which might not be obvious for how often I write about her older brother. While Turbo turns my head in wonder at a high frequency, Smiley melts my heart a thousand times a day. This girl is special.
Maybe this blog entry is really just for me, to capture something dear to me so I always have these thoughts to look back on as she turns yet another corner in her way-too-fast growing up-ness. She could grow out of this little moment any day now and I don't want it to be forgotten.
Putting Smiley to bed has always been easy. When we moved from a crib to a twin bed recently, we did suffer a short-term setback of her not settling in quite as quickly as she used to. It's not too surprising that, given access to the bedroom door like that, she would naturally be inclined to visit it several times before falling asleep. Instead of putting our sleepy girl into her crib, rubbing her back briefly, and then leaving the room, the twin bed now requires some extra cuddle time. No complaining here! Snuggling with this cuddle bug is the high point of any day.
The new routine includes singing her some of my favorite songs from when I was a kid. I grew up with a lot of music in my life, thank you mom and dad, and these little tunes are her current favorites, and they belong in the following order, no exceptions:
1) Frosty the Snowman
2) Tender Shepherd
3) The Pie Song, or as she calls it, "Baby Don't Cry" - from the movie Waitress.
It's because this is true that I sometimes want to capture every living breathing thing that my kids do and say, and bottle it or record it or write about it or something... anything to preserve a perfect moment.
I have, however, convinced myself that writing about the little things will bore the socks off of you and I tend to blog about the bigger moments instead, or at least for the extremely hilarious and sometimes shocking things that Turbo churns out.
And then there is Smiley. Sweet, cute, cuddly, adorable Smiley. She gets plenty of my attention, which might not be obvious for how often I write about her older brother. While Turbo turns my head in wonder at a high frequency, Smiley melts my heart a thousand times a day. This girl is special.
Maybe this blog entry is really just for me, to capture something dear to me so I always have these thoughts to look back on as she turns yet another corner in her way-too-fast growing up-ness. She could grow out of this little moment any day now and I don't want it to be forgotten.
Putting Smiley to bed has always been easy. When we moved from a crib to a twin bed recently, we did suffer a short-term setback of her not settling in quite as quickly as she used to. It's not too surprising that, given access to the bedroom door like that, she would naturally be inclined to visit it several times before falling asleep. Instead of putting our sleepy girl into her crib, rubbing her back briefly, and then leaving the room, the twin bed now requires some extra cuddle time. No complaining here! Snuggling with this cuddle bug is the high point of any day.
The new routine includes singing her some of my favorite songs from when I was a kid. I grew up with a lot of music in my life, thank you mom and dad, and these little tunes are her current favorites, and they belong in the following order, no exceptions:
1) Frosty the Snowman
2) Tender Shepherd
3) The Pie Song, or as she calls it, "Baby Don't Cry" - from the movie Waitress.
Baby don't you cry
Gonna make a pie
Gonna make a pie
With a heart in the middle
Baby don't be blue
Gonna make for you
Gonna make a pie
With a heart in the middle
Gonna be a pie from heaven above
Gonna be filled with strawberry love
Baby don't you cry
Gonna make a pie
And hold you forever in the middle of my heart
Looking the song up on YouTube just enlightened me. I need to learn the rest of these gorgeous lyrics to sing to my gorgeous Smiley. She is my baby pie, my heart, from heaven above.
Friday, February 1, 2013
Following Directions
Me: "Turbo, you may place one toy on that shelf. One."
Turbo: "OK, mom."
Turbo: "OK, mom."
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| That's a stretchy frog with a stretchy tongue (on the right) |
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