Mother's Day #2

Girls! Happy Mother's Day to you, the little ladies who have made me a mama. It was a gorgeous Sunday. We went for coffee and bagels (Jane, you like cinnamon raisin but are not interested in blueberry; Lucy, you like them both) and a trip to the park. We got there early enough that the playground was empty and that suited the two of you just fine. Jane, you were so giddy that you ran laps screaming, while you Luce, ran straight for the slide. You rode in your wagon, picked some flowers, saw some geese, and met a poodle. Jeff, thank you for the lovely Mother's Day. And thank you for your role in making me a mama :) Can you even believe we have daughters? We went to Nana and Pops' house for lunch and you guys got to run and play some more. AND, you almost sat still long enough for some pictures with me, your Nana and your Mimi. Four generations, Ladies.

So, Mother's Day is past, but while I'm writing there are a few things that I want to mention. Lucy, you woke up the other morning when I was already in your room. Truth be told, I had gone in there wanting to wake you both up as gently as possible, which means I open the curtains and make a little noise. It's less that I make noise and more that I don't try to be quiet. Anyway, you suddenly sat straight up in your bed, wild-eyed, wild-haired, and shouted, "Hippos!". I think you must have been dreaming about them. They were the most memorable part of your trip to the zoo with your dad the week before. When I asked if you dreamt of hippos, you announced, "Hippos. Drinking".




Jane, you are a reminder to me that I must say "Oh my" a lot around you girls. Because you say it a lot. And it's so contextually appropriate that it makes me laugh. The other day you got into a cabinet that I don't normally let you in, and you had a little time to explore and discover before I realized what you were doing. But I could hear you saying, "Oh. Oh my. Oh". It was the funniest thing. Also, you hum yourself to sleep in the car. You'll be jabbering and singing and then as soon as you start to hum, I know you're about to fall asleep, annnnnnnd, you're out.



You ladies love trains, airplanes, and helicopters - both the kind that fly in the sky, and the ones that come off of trees. Jane, when we walk, you like to collect things - most recently sticks. Lucy, you like to collect flowers. And you like the flowers so much that you often have a pollen mustache. It makes me want to gobble you up.

All my love,
Mama

Hand, foot, who?

You know what is really NOT cool? Hand, foot, and mouth disease. Your first clue should be that this virus is actually called DISEASE. Which is awesome in it's ability to completely freak a parent out. Your second clue should be that one of the symptoms is blister-like eruptions, that's right, ERUPTIONS, in the mouth.

Girls. I am so sorry. I'm sorry for your dad and me because aye caramba, batman, you ladies are not feeling well. And in case you need reminding, there are TWO of you not feeling well. And really, I'm pretty sure that the ideal ratio is 3.5 well adults per 1 18 month old with HFMD. This means that I also feel sorry for your Nana, who watched you both yesterday All By Herself. But mostly, I feel sorry for you Jane and Lucy, because you have been miserable. Your fevers have been dreadful and have come with the chills. In the bath the other night, Jane, you started to turn purple. Your teeth were chattering, and I took you out and you sobbed until I got your warmest jammies on. I cuddled you with your favorite blanket and you just shivered and cried. Lucy, when you woke up the first night with your fever, you couldn't be consoled, so your dad brought you into our room with an armload of books and we read to you until you were more concerned about hungry Mr. Bear than your throat eruptions. The next day, all you wanted was to be read to. If there's anything to be happy about in this, it's that you love books. I just hope you don't associate them with being sick.

By now (posting time), you're both feeling better, but I'm posting this anyway just so you ladies don't get the idea someday when you go through and read these that life is always rosy. Sometimes it's full of disease and throat eruptions.

A year and a half!

Still getting cuter. Girls, although you both speak pretty clearly, every now and then you'll have a word I don't understand. And so I start guessing. So maybe the word Jane says is "munchkin" but it sounds like muusomethingorother and I start in on the guessing. Monkey? Lucy, even though Jane was the one that said it, you're the one to let me know I'm wrong. NO. Money? NO. Music? NO. You're very patient with me, but by this point you're shaking your head fairly violently, and after the third guess, both of you are finished with me. Lucky for me, we have a big bottle of bubbles handy, so you generally still have faith that I'm a decent mama.

Luce, one of my favorite things you're doing these days is asking about being quiet. If Jane is sleeping, you touch your little index finger to your nose and say, "quiet?" I know that you've seen me put my index finger to my mouth and say, "shhh", and I love that your version of that is the nose touch. Also, you're walking all over the place now! I'm so proud of you, Meatball. We spent Easter with the Stroessners and I can't tell you how much I loved watching you and Jane run and play. Your ability to walk seems to have really increased your confidence and your willingness and excitement to explore.

Janey, your dad mentioned last night that you're the most free-spirited little kid he's ever seen. He's right. You're fearless and loving and sweet and always discovering and living to the fullest. On the not so great side, this seems to mean that we are completely unable to get you from throwing your food, your plate, your milk all over the place. It is completely mind-boggling to me that I can be supervising dinner time (or breakfast or lunch) the best that I can, but it only takes you a millisecond to hurl everything on the floor. Short of you being spoonfed for the rest of your life (which currently makes you scream), I don't know how to keep this from happening. I am hoping that this is a short-lived phase because frankly, I can't keep up with the ants that find your mess. On the great side, this means that you are one of the most delightful little people ever. I love that you race around, that you share with your sister, that you stand on your tiptoes to see the world that is just out of your flatfooted reach. I also love that you refer to yourself as Janey.

Girls, today you are 18 months old. You are still my babies, but you are so much more. You are my sweet, precious, funny, smart, loveable, sticky little meatballs. Happy year and a half.

Love,
Mama

Special thanks to Andrew Lloyd Weber

I am not a crazy musical loving person; I'm just a standard musical loving person. Meaning, I haven't seen a lot of them and frankly, I have no interest in some of them, but I do enjoy Joseph and the Amazing Technicolor Dreamcoat. A lot. So, I occasionally break out into the theme song. Go, go, go Joseph...

And here's how that goes in our house:

Go, go, go Lucy, you know what they - and this is where I pause and Lucy screams "SAY!"
Go, go, go Janey, you'll make it some - another pause from me and Lucy screams "DAY!"
Sha, la, la Lucy, you're doing - and this is where Jane gets into it - "FINE!"
You and your dreams are ahead of their - both ladies now - "TIME!"

Donnie Osmond, I believe you have met your match. I mean matches.

Other things going on in your worlds:

Luce goose, you love to help wash your sister's hair. I get her lathered up, and you get a determined look on your face and start scrubbing her head earnestly. I haven't decided who I think is sweeter - you for wanting to wash Jane's hair, or Jane for putting up with it.

Janey bear, I couldn't have been more pleased and proud than today at lunch when all you wanted was roasted broccoli. Thank you sweetheart.

The two of you LOVE the park. As soon as you realize where we are, one or both of you start chattering about the slide, slide, SLIDE or the SWINGS! or the duck, duck, goose. It's adorable to put you at the top of one of the slides and watch that huge grin as you whoosh down. It's fun to watch you walk around the playground. It must be such an overload. Neither of you can decide if you want to try to play with another kid or climb something, or go straight for the sand pit. And, speaking of the sand pit, I do believe you ladies have achieved some kind of status in the kid world, because you were both recently asked by a little boy if you'd like to help dig a hole. You weren't interested. Turns out you were more interested in filling in said hole...

Couldn't love you more,
Mama

Janey and the bees

First, I'll go ahead and admit that bees have absolutely nothing to do with this post. But I like the sound of Janey and the bees. It's like a band waiting to happen.

It's finally warm enough to spend a little time outside, and wow, does that make you ladies happy. Jane, you run around in such a manner that I am starting to understand parents who have their kids on leashes. Yesterday after I got you guys home, we were out front playing and running and touching puppies and runnning and I think you get the running theme. It was funny to hear you panting. I made you hold my hand while you ran, both because I'm still a little concerned about the possibility of you knocking a couple of teeth out with a sidewalk faceplant and because I'd prefer you not run into the street. You did not want to hold my hand. At all. Not even a little bit. Ah, my sweet little independent Janey.

Getting to the main story. The crocuses are finally up! And open! And beautiful in all their purple glory! And you and Lucy were both pretty worked up about the FLOWERS! Flower! Flower! You like to squat down and touch them, and when I told you to smell them, you did. You shoved your little face down into that patch of flowers and maybe because they didn't actually smell, you kept shoving your face down closer and closer, until finally you lost your balance and ended up with your face in the dirt. But you didn't mind! You just jumped up, took off (with me chasing you), and started hollaring about the next thing...

Lucy goosey

Luce, Here's one that cracks me up. One evening over the weekend, the four of us were upstairs playing in your bedroom. I left you and Janey with your daddy so I could get something on plates for you two to eat. Well, apparently you did NOT appreciate me leaving. I was already down the stairs when I heard you say, "Mom". I didn't reply. "Mama." Still didn't reply. "MOM". Finally, I incredulously listened to you shout "Shelly. SHELLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE". That is some funny stuff, Kid.

La-la-la-la-ladies

Oh Girls.

Where do I even begin? How about with our car ride the other morning when you were both singing with me?! Jane, you started to get fussy (as you are wont to do anytime you're in your carseat for longer than .75 seconds)so I quickly turned off NPR and turned it to one of your fun kid cds (your daddy thinks it's less fun, but that's a different story altogether). And you two got down to business. The business of singing along. You're pretty funny and particular when it comes to music. You certainly have preferences and we have to skip some songs because they make you hollar. Like the Muffin Man song. You guys are NOT fans of the Muffin Man. But the rest of the time, Lucy, you just sit back there sweetly and croon along, getting especially into it when there are any "la-las". And I'm pretty sure that sometimes you're both less than impressed with my singing along, so that's when you start to really belt it out. Who knew that my 15 month old kids would already be drowning me out? When we're in the house listening to music, you girls like to dance. Luce, you get this big smile on your whole face - eyes light up, eyebrows lift, and you start to wiggle. Janey, you've been known to shake your cute little bum or do your fake jump (this is when you're convinced you're jumping - squat down, push up fast, but the feet don't leave floor - well, occasionally the heels come up...).


We've recently had mountains of snow, and our neighbors built a giant snowman, complete with lei, crazy leaf hair, and button nose. The two of you have been SO intrigued by Mr. Snowman. We went over to take a close-up look the day he was built, and since then, the front door is one of your favorite stops as you pull back the curtain and yell, "snowman! snowman!". When he started to melt the other day (hurray for non-freezing temps!), you two seemed confused, sad, and then decided you needed a snack. Thank goodness for short attention spans.

Jane, you're such a sweet girl. And, I'm just going to say it. That surprises me. Because it seems contrary to your nature. You're a speed-demon, an adrenalin junky, a bulldozer. And you're a sweetheart. You plow right through, over, into your sister, and the next second, you bring her a cracker. Or her favorite frog. You race around the house, bare feet slapping the floor at a frantic pace, and you swing by me for a quick kiss.

Lucy, you have oodles of words, but you still won't say your name. Or at least not "Lucy". You have apparently decided to call yourself "Lulu". I hesitate to write that here because I'm definitely not committed to the idea of Lulu being your nickname so I don't want to encourage anyone else to call you that. Let's give it 6 months or so and see if that's what you're still calling yourself. In the meantime, it sure is sweet when I tell you to say Lucy, and you smile at me and announce Lulu.

Ladies, you love your body parts and naming them. Luce, you're most fascinated with your knees and your "baila". I always think you're wanting to dance when you first say that, which must mean that Sra. Schultz really did a good job of frightening the Spanish into me way back in high school, but then I quickly remember that you don't speak Spanish (that I know of), and you're actually talking about your belly. Jane, you recently called it your baby button, but the absolute funniest thing you've done to date was the other morning when you pressed that outie all the way in, smiled at me, and proudly announced "OFF!". You can turn lights on and off, why wouldn't you be able to do the same with your baby button? Good thinking, kiddo.

If it's possible (I write "if" because I'm honestly not certain), you two are becoming more fun, more yourselves, more lovely by the day. And each evening, when I check in on you before I go to bed, my heart does a double beat, and I think, no, there's no way you can get any better. And then you do!

All my love,
Mama