Friday, August 07, 2009
Hermia and Helena
I sent the girls to Aunt Jo Jo's in their usual attire. When they returned, it seemed they'd gotten caught up with the woodland fairies, and were victims of the nymphs' spells and mischief.
Tuesday, August 04, 2009
You Heard The Lady
The other night we dined at Steve & Joy's. We were there a bit past the girls' bedtime and they were stinky. In fact, I'd realized it had been 5 days since their last bath. Oops. Since it was so late and since they were so stinky Steve gave them a bath while the rest of us sat around the table talking about how nice it was that they were getting a bath. We could hear the goings on from the bathroom. I listened while sipping my wine and relaxing. Best bathtime ever.
Anyway, so they're all clean and what-not and out comes Sarah, buck naked. She climbed up onto the bench of the kitchen breakfast nook where we sat. "Naked girl!" I called out to her. She stood proud, arms akimbo, lips pursed and addressed the group with, somewhat accusingly I might add, "Don't touch my boobs!" She has a funny little accent and the word "boobs" came out with an extra long "oooooo" that very nearly turned into a liquid "u" there at the end. I resisted the urge to say "but just look at the way you're dressed!" because I'll be happy if she will continue to say that for a few years. Twenty would be good.
Anyway, so they're all clean and what-not and out comes Sarah, buck naked. She climbed up onto the bench of the kitchen breakfast nook where we sat. "Naked girl!" I called out to her. She stood proud, arms akimbo, lips pursed and addressed the group with, somewhat accusingly I might add, "Don't touch my boobs!" She has a funny little accent and the word "boobs" came out with an extra long "oooooo" that very nearly turned into a liquid "u" there at the end. I resisted the urge to say "but just look at the way you're dressed!" because I'll be happy if she will continue to say that for a few years. Twenty would be good.
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Tuesday, July 28, 2009
Sarah's birthday party
"I'm tired. Let's do something very low-key for Sarah's party, keep it really simple" I'd said. Jeremiah agreed. Summer is rough. So we decided we'd invite a few kids and fill up the pools and then just sit back and drink a few beers. A relaxing plan, in theory.
We ended up with, by my last count, 40 people at our house. We filled the pool Kate got for her first birthday and the pool Kate got from Cindy and Jessica at her last birthday. We made snacks. We ordered pizza. We had enough beer for a 4-hour party instead of 2 hours. I made a Dora cake that seemed to get as out of hand as the gathering. We had a blast. I'm still tired.
I've got some 30 or so photos on a flickr set to share here but it's been so long since I've used flickr I've forgotten how to link it. While I re-figure-that-out, here's a couple to give you a flavor of the day.
We ended up with, by my last count, 40 people at our house. We filled the pool Kate got for her first birthday and the pool Kate got from Cindy and Jessica at her last birthday. We made snacks. We ordered pizza. We had enough beer for a 4-hour party instead of 2 hours. I made a Dora cake that seemed to get as out of hand as the gathering. We had a blast. I'm still tired.
I've got some 30 or so photos on a flickr set to share here but it's been so long since I've used flickr I've forgotten how to link it. While I re-figure-that-out, here's a couple to give you a flavor of the day.
Saturday, July 25, 2009
Apology
Three years ago today I failed to give birth. I tried very hard to will the fetus who we now call Sarah out of the womb in time to share a birthday with my Dad. Sometimes it's hard to get Sarah motivated; I am perpetually late since conceiving her. So, Dad, I am sorry. Regardless, happy birthday!!! At least now you don't have to share your birthday with someone so impossibly cute.
On to Sarah. She made it out the next day. You can see the details here, should you be feeling nostalgic. Tomorrow I will spend the day preparing for her party that I decided would be very low-key before inviting every one of her classmates in addition to the Third Ave crew. So today, I thought I'd take a moment to document some interesting facts about the almost exactly 3-year-old Sarah. When she finds the cure for cancer, journalists will want to know this stuff.
Sarah enjoys some foods I find surprising for a child her age. These delectables include but are not limited to - blackberries, olives, blue cheese, yogurt lasses and chai lattes. She also loves typical kid-food, mac and cheese being at the top of the list. Annie's makes a good one. Sometimes when Sarah discovers I'm making macaroni and cheese she squeals, does a little Snoopy dance and embraces my leg with uncanny strength, kissing my thigh.
Sarah is very concerned about the injured and is always at the ready with a kiss for any boo-boo she spots.
She loves the pea gravel walkway we're building out back. Most of the pathway is made of mulch (don't walk in that barefoot) but I made a small portion pea gravel and will slowly change the rest. She sits and lays down in the gravel. She makes pea gravel angles.
Come to think of it, she loves rocks in general. I always find very small rocks tucked away in pockets, bags, the car, furniture and once in the refrigerator.
Not a princess like her sister, Sarah still loves the creepy-computer animated Barbie movies. She doesn't care about Barbie dolls. I finally realized she loves those movies as well as Annie, Mary Poppins and The Music Man because of the dancing. Sarah likes to dance along with the players in those shows. Sarah has the heart of a dancer.
For Christmas last year her Drueke grandparents got her a giant, flat lion. It's like a bear rug, kinda. She sleeps on that thing, eschewing her bed, nearly every night.
Sarah isn't quoted here as often as Kate is. It's not for lack of talking. The thing about Sarah is her hilarity is to be found in her expressions, tone and body language. She frequently has us in stitches but I'm not a capable enough writer to relay it in words.
Sarah's a rocker and loves the White Stripes and the April May song (English and French versions) from the Deathproof soundtrack. She sings like a bird, too. You should hear her do You Are My Sunshine.
Sarah's super sweet and is full of hugs and kisses. She still likes to be rocked before bed. When we rock before bed, she wants Kate to sing Rock-a-bye Baby.
Sarah has mastered the art of snapping and does it frequently. She's pretty good at it. She snaps while Kate whistles.
Sarah has learned how to dress herself and is very nearly swimming on her own. The amount of time she'll spend completely submerged for showing-off's sake is slightly alarming to me. She will no longer use the little Dora toilet seat topper we have for small bottoms. She is hurtling towards autonomy which is handy considering how neglectful I tend to be.
She's a real lover of cats and dogs alike, but seems to lean toward dogs if forced to choose a favorite. I think she would like to be a dog. I still sometimes catch her eating the dog food nuggets.
I have never met anyone who hates loud noises more than Sarah. She thinks the sound of public toilets flushing is much too loud. She will leave the kitchen when I turn on the blender. Ssshhhh!
When I drop Sarah off at daycare in the morning all the kids yell "Drueke!" like she's Norm entering Cheers. Everyone at daycare including the other kids' parents and the teachers and staff call Sarah "Sarah-bo-bera", when they're not calling her Drueke.
When Sarah threw out her last pacifier it was by mistake. We had somehow given her the impression (probably by saying it over and over) that once she turned 3 she would no longer be able to have a paci. That night when we told her we couldn't find the paci she sat in my lap weeping and saying "But I'm not 3! I'm not 3!"
Tomorrow she will be three, just one day late. The past 3 years have been doubly wonderful since Sarah made the scene.
On to Sarah. She made it out the next day. You can see the details here, should you be feeling nostalgic. Tomorrow I will spend the day preparing for her party that I decided would be very low-key before inviting every one of her classmates in addition to the Third Ave crew. So today, I thought I'd take a moment to document some interesting facts about the almost exactly 3-year-old Sarah. When she finds the cure for cancer, journalists will want to know this stuff.
Sarah enjoys some foods I find surprising for a child her age. These delectables include but are not limited to - blackberries, olives, blue cheese, yogurt lasses and chai lattes. She also loves typical kid-food, mac and cheese being at the top of the list. Annie's makes a good one. Sometimes when Sarah discovers I'm making macaroni and cheese she squeals, does a little Snoopy dance and embraces my leg with uncanny strength, kissing my thigh.
Sarah is very concerned about the injured and is always at the ready with a kiss for any boo-boo she spots.
She loves the pea gravel walkway we're building out back. Most of the pathway is made of mulch (don't walk in that barefoot) but I made a small portion pea gravel and will slowly change the rest. She sits and lays down in the gravel. She makes pea gravel angles.
Come to think of it, she loves rocks in general. I always find very small rocks tucked away in pockets, bags, the car, furniture and once in the refrigerator.
Not a princess like her sister, Sarah still loves the creepy-computer animated Barbie movies. She doesn't care about Barbie dolls. I finally realized she loves those movies as well as Annie, Mary Poppins and The Music Man because of the dancing. Sarah likes to dance along with the players in those shows. Sarah has the heart of a dancer.
For Christmas last year her Drueke grandparents got her a giant, flat lion. It's like a bear rug, kinda. She sleeps on that thing, eschewing her bed, nearly every night.
Sarah isn't quoted here as often as Kate is. It's not for lack of talking. The thing about Sarah is her hilarity is to be found in her expressions, tone and body language. She frequently has us in stitches but I'm not a capable enough writer to relay it in words.
Sarah's a rocker and loves the White Stripes and the April May song (English and French versions) from the Deathproof soundtrack. She sings like a bird, too. You should hear her do You Are My Sunshine.
Sarah's super sweet and is full of hugs and kisses. She still likes to be rocked before bed. When we rock before bed, she wants Kate to sing Rock-a-bye Baby.
Sarah has mastered the art of snapping and does it frequently. She's pretty good at it. She snaps while Kate whistles.
Sarah has learned how to dress herself and is very nearly swimming on her own. The amount of time she'll spend completely submerged for showing-off's sake is slightly alarming to me. She will no longer use the little Dora toilet seat topper we have for small bottoms. She is hurtling towards autonomy which is handy considering how neglectful I tend to be.
She's a real lover of cats and dogs alike, but seems to lean toward dogs if forced to choose a favorite. I think she would like to be a dog. I still sometimes catch her eating the dog food nuggets.
I have never met anyone who hates loud noises more than Sarah. She thinks the sound of public toilets flushing is much too loud. She will leave the kitchen when I turn on the blender. Ssshhhh!
When I drop Sarah off at daycare in the morning all the kids yell "Drueke!" like she's Norm entering Cheers. Everyone at daycare including the other kids' parents and the teachers and staff call Sarah "Sarah-bo-bera", when they're not calling her Drueke.
When Sarah threw out her last pacifier it was by mistake. We had somehow given her the impression (probably by saying it over and over) that once she turned 3 she would no longer be able to have a paci. That night when we told her we couldn't find the paci she sat in my lap weeping and saying "But I'm not 3! I'm not 3!"
Tomorrow she will be three, just one day late. The past 3 years have been doubly wonderful since Sarah made the scene.
Thursday, July 23, 2009
Kindergarten
On August 10th, roughly 2 and 1/2 weeks from today, Kate will enter kindergarten. For some reason, when I say this my own life passes before my eyes. My kindergarten teacher collected pigs. She taught us how to sing in a round and that's the year I learned Let's Go Fly a Kite. Patrick Shoemaker had the chicken pox and the measles simultaneously. I fell in love with school supplies (an enduring affection whose tenure exceeds most of my loves). Then I see every other grade whirring past. So. Fast.
Although Kate's journey began 5 years ago, there's something official about kindergarten that makes parents all weepy. To my chagrin, I'm no exception. This is probably because I hate homework and when I left grad school I thought I'd finally freed myself of that scourge and now I'll have to deal with it all over again. Twice. Also maybe because the whole thing is a reminder of our mortality and how sweet yet fleeting life really is. Mostly I think it's the homework.
So anyway, Kate will attend Drew Charter School. I thought the school might be with-it enough to have a Facebook group, thus allowing me to keep up with all its news while slacking at the office, but it doesn't. There is a surprising number of people named Drew Charter, though. We enter Drew with some trepidation. While it fairs well in most standards of measurement, Drew is too far for the kids to walk and requires the crossing of Memorial Avenue (very busy) without a crossing guard so bikes are out too, which makes me a little sad. Also, Drew's student population is 98% black. Frankly, that's a little off-putting. It is by no means diverse and who wants their kid to be in a minority so extreme? I worry that she will be ostracized for being different and while I'm sure she'll ultimately be fine, I dread those tearful days. I figure no matter where she goes to school there will be plenty of socially awkward days to endure, regardless of the racial/socioeconomic/family-structure/etc make-up of the student body, so it's worth a shot here, anyway.
On the up-side, the school has just hired a new principal. He has 40 years of educational experience and his previous role was as the executive director of Outward Bound Atlanta. This background instills me with hope. I found this article when I Googled him. So we'll see. It should be interesting to see how the princess deals with having to wear a uniform to school. Fingers crossed, chins up...and away we go.
Although Kate's journey began 5 years ago, there's something official about kindergarten that makes parents all weepy. To my chagrin, I'm no exception. This is probably because I hate homework and when I left grad school I thought I'd finally freed myself of that scourge and now I'll have to deal with it all over again. Twice. Also maybe because the whole thing is a reminder of our mortality and how sweet yet fleeting life really is. Mostly I think it's the homework.
So anyway, Kate will attend Drew Charter School. I thought the school might be with-it enough to have a Facebook group, thus allowing me to keep up with all its news while slacking at the office, but it doesn't. There is a surprising number of people named Drew Charter, though. We enter Drew with some trepidation. While it fairs well in most standards of measurement, Drew is too far for the kids to walk and requires the crossing of Memorial Avenue (very busy) without a crossing guard so bikes are out too, which makes me a little sad. Also, Drew's student population is 98% black. Frankly, that's a little off-putting. It is by no means diverse and who wants their kid to be in a minority so extreme? I worry that she will be ostracized for being different and while I'm sure she'll ultimately be fine, I dread those tearful days. I figure no matter where she goes to school there will be plenty of socially awkward days to endure, regardless of the racial/socioeconomic/family-structure/etc make-up of the student body, so it's worth a shot here, anyway.
On the up-side, the school has just hired a new principal. He has 40 years of educational experience and his previous role was as the executive director of Outward Bound Atlanta. This background instills me with hope. I found this article when I Googled him. So we'll see. It should be interesting to see how the princess deals with having to wear a uniform to school. Fingers crossed, chins up...and away we go.
Sunday, July 19, 2009
Fire!
Another spectacular morning! I would like to note here, for posterity, that since Friday evening, we have had the air conditioning off in our house, windows open. The weather has been astonishingly glorious. This morning we headed out around 7:30, on wheels, to the coffee shop. Once we made it there it was decided we should then hit McKoy park, for its superior swings selection.
I noticed when the girls ran down the big hill to the swing set whose swings are closer to the ground and subsequently easier to mount, that someone in the vicinity seemed to have lit a grill. It smelled like a campfire. I thought that if anyone was firing up a grill at that hour, only BBQ (real BBQ, not the thing my northern kinfolk term all cooking outdoors, but the slow-cooked food that is specifically BBQ) could be the result.
Shortly after I made note of the delightful smell the other mama at the park at that early hour said to me "hey, is that trashcan on fire?" It was indeed engulfed in flames. We had just walked away from it not 45 seconds ago. Black smoked billowed from it. She and I stood staring in some disbelief. Then she flipped open her phone and dialed 9-1-1. I called to the lone guy riding his mountain bike in the skate park. "Hey! Fire!" I said. "I was just noticing that, thanks!" he called back, making haste, along with us, away from the trashcan. The fire had caught the surrounding pinestraw and was working its way up the pine tree immediately behind it. Good heavens.
We heard the sirens and wondered why it was taking the fire department so long to arrive at a burn site approximately 1/4 of a mile from the nearest station. But arrive they did. Sarah was terrified of the noisy truck. We watched as the police arrived and visibly swore in the car while slowly pulling past us gawking on-lookers. It really was a big fire. The fire truck arrived and our heroes went to work, quickly putting out the flame. The initial giant poof of smoke dissipated quickly and then we all inched closer, because that's what humans do, and clapped. Then we watched as the firefighters put their hose away and climbed out of the heavy gear. Kate thanked them and we headed home. The trucked passed us and all the firefighters waved. I thought of Sesame Street, as I so often do - "a fireman is a person in your neighborhood, in your neighborhood in your neeeeiiighboooorhood..."
phone pictures MMS'd to me then emailed from there, what can I tell you? Not the best quality.
I noticed when the girls ran down the big hill to the swing set whose swings are closer to the ground and subsequently easier to mount, that someone in the vicinity seemed to have lit a grill. It smelled like a campfire. I thought that if anyone was firing up a grill at that hour, only BBQ (real BBQ, not the thing my northern kinfolk term all cooking outdoors, but the slow-cooked food that is specifically BBQ) could be the result.
Shortly after I made note of the delightful smell the other mama at the park at that early hour said to me "hey, is that trashcan on fire?" It was indeed engulfed in flames. We had just walked away from it not 45 seconds ago. Black smoked billowed from it. She and I stood staring in some disbelief. Then she flipped open her phone and dialed 9-1-1. I called to the lone guy riding his mountain bike in the skate park. "Hey! Fire!" I said. "I was just noticing that, thanks!" he called back, making haste, along with us, away from the trashcan. The fire had caught the surrounding pinestraw and was working its way up the pine tree immediately behind it. Good heavens.
We heard the sirens and wondered why it was taking the fire department so long to arrive at a burn site approximately 1/4 of a mile from the nearest station. But arrive they did. Sarah was terrified of the noisy truck. We watched as the police arrived and visibly swore in the car while slowly pulling past us gawking on-lookers. It really was a big fire. The fire truck arrived and our heroes went to work, quickly putting out the flame. The initial giant poof of smoke dissipated quickly and then we all inched closer, because that's what humans do, and clapped. Then we watched as the firefighters put their hose away and climbed out of the heavy gear. Kate thanked them and we headed home. The trucked passed us and all the firefighters waved. I thought of Sesame Street, as I so often do - "a fireman is a person in your neighborhood, in your neighborhood in your neeeeiiighboooorhood..."
phone pictures MMS'd to me then emailed from there, what can I tell you? Not the best quality.
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