time for tea

Sadie's preschool had a tea party last week. It was pretty cute.
The kids got dressed up, served us cookies and a beverage of our choice (tea, coffee or fruit punch, naturally) and then sang a few songs for the dads wielding video cameras and the moms clutching kleenex.

She was certainly excited and proud to have both of her parents there, which is the whole point, I'd say.

I can't believe her first year of preschool is almost over. She has had a wonderful time - she seriously never looked back. Never had an "I don't feel like going today" morning. Never lingered at the doorway, never had trouble releasing her fingers from mine. Never needed an extra hug. Most mornings, I'd look up after signing her in and find that she was already fully immersed in whatever activity she decided to start her day with. I'd have to call her name several times to get her attention, get the hug I needed, and do our "I love you"sign to each other.

I'm glad she's doing another year starting in the Fall. She will love it again, I'm sure. I am definitely beginning to sweat the elementary school decision, though. Maybe I'll share that borderline psychotic angst in another post sometime.

eating and walking and other updates

Sadie was pretending to be an otter today and wanted fish for a snack. Since the only fish I had in the house were A) frozen and B) in the form of oil usually taken at breakfast time, she opted for my offer to make "pretend" fish.

What can I say? Inspiration struck.

The ingredients are: multi grain sandwich flatbreads cut to shape, seaweed strips cut into "scales" and attached with hummus, a pea for the eye and a green bean for the mouth. Oh, and apple slices for waves. Ha!

I don't know if I'll be doing anything even remotely similar anytime soon and it certainly doesn't meet these standards:

but I had to snap a picture for posterity.

What do you say, do I get an A for creativity?

~*~

She had her first visit to the dentist last week and passed with flying colors. No cavities, was perfectly cooperative and loves her new toothbrush and princess floss. She chose a "diamond" ring from the treasure box after her cleaning.
And now some Lilah business:

This girl is ready to GO!
She has been fascinated with my keys lately, and not just to chew on. She takes them to the door and tries to actually use them.
She never sits still. Never.
rocking out in her high chair

She is in love with Sadie's motorcycle toy and wants to ride it all of the time. (it took Sadie over a year to warm up to it and now she's basically too big for it. Score for little sis!)
Here she is a couple of weeks ago on it.



And the big news - Lilah started walking for real today (i.e. not reverting to a crawl after taking 3 steps and plopping down) and it is pretty damn cute if I do say so myself. She sort of stomps and side-steps along, expecting to fall at any second with an awesome combination of delight and exhilaration on her face. She usually has her mouth wide open in an ecstatic grin. She's definitely our little dare devil, our tough cookie. She has so much energy and determination. It's clear that she's very proud of herself and very excited to have made this development. FUN!

Osama Bin Laden is dead.

Wow. The news tonight is big.

I remember feeling pure shock and bewilderment on September 11, 2001.

Grief and insomnia took over soon after and lasted for months, but my initial feelings were all about disbelief. I was totally incredulous that such evil and hatred existed in the world, and on such a huge scale. I was horrified to learn that this man and his followers really thought their actions were just, righteous, even holy. It still baffles me.

I have virtually zero experience with the military, so it is beyond the scope of my imagination to understand what all went into tonight's events. I'm just plain awestruck. I was glad to hear President Obama say that no Americans were harmed. I thought this bit of his speech was particularly well worded:

"Tonight we give thanks to the countless intelligence and counterterrorism professionals who have worked tirelessly to achieve this outcome. The American people do not see their work nor know their names, but tonight they feel the satisfaction of their work and the result of their pursuit of justice. We give thanks for the men who carried out this operation, for they exemplify the professionalism, patriotism and unparalleled courage of those who serve our country. And they are part of a generation that has borne the heaviest share of burden since that September day."

Tonight I hope that everyone in the world who has been affected by Bin Laden's epic terrorism over the past decade can feel something good at the news of his death. It feels twisted to say that, but it is what it is.

I'm not sure what parents, brothers, sisters, friends, husbands, wives, cousins, grandparents,etc. of anyone who perished on 9/11 or anyone hurt or killed in the line of duty since that day are supposed to feel tonight.

Relief?
Justice?
Closure?
Hope?
Peace?

Peace. Now wouldn't that be something?

Easter do over?

So, we're well past the point of being able to claim rookie status on anything to do with parenting - especially providing magical delight for our children on holidays - but I kinda want to for this Easter!

We waited way too long to dye eggs (an hour before bedtime on Easter eve), used eco-friendly dye and brown eggs with rather sad results:

and of course, our biggest mistake was having the Easter Bunny hide plastic eggs in the front yard the night before we went to bed.
In the morning, I tiptoed to the front door, opened it ever so quietly and stepped outside to see how the yard looked, dotted with colorful eggs hidden in plain sight for our little girls...
Well, my anticipatory smile vanished in an instant. Oh, the carnage! What were we thinking?! We had basically laid out a feast for the neighborhood vermin. I should have taken photos, but I was too preoccupied with getting it cleaned up before the girls woke up.

But Sadie wasn't phased - she had a ball gathering up the remaining eggs; there were plenty, thankfully. We couldn't hide the fact that some had been pilfered, though - there were remnants of stickers and candy here and there in the dirt. I successfully shooed away a few eager birds and got Andrew to stand guard. We all observed a particularly brazen black squirrel sitting smugly in our tree as he noisily cracked into a pink plastic egg to get the chocolate inside. We watched as bits of shiny pastel foil floated down from the branches to the sidewalk. A thief and a litterer. I suppose I can't really blame him, though.

Better next year, I hope!

Bad Dates

Last week I went to see my friend in a one woman show titled "Bad Dates". She was fabulous. Must get my hands on that script for monologue material.

Inserted in the program was a blank sheet inviting audience members to share their bad dates and there was a drawing at intermission for the "winner" of this backwards contest.

Guess who clinched it?

Yup.

Here's my entry. True story.


As an impossibly naive and utterly inexperienced college senior, I took a chance and gave my number to a cute guy at the bank. (1) After a couple of awkward phone conversations, I agreed to meet him for a late meal at Denny's. (2) We did not click. I never saw him again but maintained my pride at having gone out on a limb (3) UNTIL...
A few months later my father (3a) saved a newspaper clipping with the note "is this the guy you went out with?" attached to a report about a man who had just been sentenced to prison for rape.
It was he.
I've never given my number to a man since.

(1) I had never done anything even remotely as forward as this, but if you heard the whole story, you'd understand why it was kind of cute and totally understandable why I'd do such a thing. Really.
(2) I was living a very late night lifestyle, being in the theater, so meeting late at Denny's was not odd. And all of my roommates knew exactly where I was. I swear.
(3) I seriously think I told everyone I knew (even my father - 3a) that I had given my number to someone. It felt like a pivotal moment for me in a way. So pathetic.

So there you have it. I won a bottle of wine. I wanna hear YOUR bad date story. Yes, you.

Go on. It can't be worse than mine, can it? If it is, I'll mail you the bottle of wine. Seriously.

Bun is ONE!

argh...meant to post this yesterday...


4:43 PM April 9th, 2010 took a loooooooooooooooooong time to arrive. I am one of the lucky ones who loves being pregnant and really had a glorious second pregnancy, minus a bit of heartburn. I am one of the unlucky ones whose labors are very long. I'm talking 40+ hours long. Yeah. LONG.

I think the "worst" of it was that I was dilated to 9cm for about 8 hours (!) until finally someone (I honestly don't remember who) said "why don't we make certain that her water is broken?" and POW! out she shot in about 180 seconds. I remember so vividly being utterly incredulous at the increase in pain that coursed through me in those moments. The HOLY SH*T THIS IS IT realization hit me like a truck. I remember the wild fear and panic and desperation that I completely succumbed to with only my doula's eyes to stare into, only her hands to clutch with all of my might. All of those serene, strong mantras from the hypno-birthing CD went right out the window at that point.

I CAN'T DO THIS!
Yes, you can.
NO I CAN'T!
Yes, you can. Janine, you're doing it.
OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD OH MY GOD. . .

It is beyond ironic that Andrew had just left my side only for a few minutes; the same few minutes when that someone (who was it?!) decided to break my water. Yes, he missed Lilah's entrance into the world. It could be funny except it's not. But it's not tragic either, though. I think I've done a pretty good job at being okay with this cruel fact because I think I believe in things happening for a reason. And I think it might have been pretty traumatic for him to witness me in the throes of primal, guttural sounds and emotions of the last few seconds of labor. But let's be honest - what is my option in terms of how to deal with that? Be bitter for the rest of my life? No thanks. It only hurts when I really really really think about it - and when I recently heard that my friend's husband got to catch his newborn son last month. Can't think of anything more awesome than that for a man to do. Really can't.

Anyway, he was there seconds later - the pictures prove it - and we cried and smiled and kissed and pressed our sweaty foreheads together - our hearts pounding in unison as we gazed down at our new, perfect love. Our new baby girl. Another girl! Another daughter! A new soul for our family and for the universe.

Her birth is without a shadow of a doubt the Thing I Am Most Proud Of In My Life. No drugs. The real deal. I allowed myself to want that kind of birth which is, to say the least, not honored/suggested/supported/etc. in today's birthing culture. I'll admit it. I wanted it. I wanted it badly. I was determined to "join that club" even though women are sort of denied bragging rights (for lack of a better term) about natural birth because it's considered insensitive to women who choose not to/can't/didn't have one. The whole "you don't get a medal" mentality for having an unmedicated birth is so common and while I understand it, I find it pretty annoying. The difference between Sadie's and Lilah's births are night and day. Okay I'd better move on before this turns into a serious rant!

Lilah is such a special girl. She's loud. She's demanding. She's daring. She's not easy to please. She's aggressive. She's fast. She's a very quick study. She is an impressive mimic. She snuggles. She's the definition of a Daddy's girl. She doesn't need as much sleep as the rest of us do, apparently. She is her own little person with her own big agenda and she will have no trouble navigating through her life, there's no doubt about it.

(click on picture to see larger)

Happy 1st birthday to my baby. She is a joy to behold and I could not be more proud to be her mama.

Harriette Audelle Saunders 1918 - 2011

March 3rd, 2011

My sweet Grandmother, known lovingly as "GG" to my girls, passed away this morning.

We are all tremendously sad. She was truly a remarkable lady.

I already miss her so much. I miss her voice. I miss her perfume. I miss her soft, manicured hands. I miss her lovely white hair.

I know I will always miss her.

I will miss the sounds of her cuckoo clock and her grandfather clock. The deep softness of her couch. The beauty and serenity of her garden.

She was so strong. So vibrant. So sharp-witted. She lived on her own and drove herself around until very recently and had standing appointments to get her hair and nails done. She remembered everyone's birthdays. She gave wonderful hugs and kisses. She had a throw pillow that said "if I'd known having grandchildren was this much fun, I would have had them first", which she gave to my mom a few years ago. She was both thrilled and incredulous at being a great-grandmother.

She said things like "Oh, for Heaven's sake", "Isn't that neat?" and "Gee, whiz." She could use her fingers in her mouth to whistle louder than anyone I know. She called everyone "honey". She always had a box of See's candy on the table, a bowl of M&Ms out and a basket of Beanie Babies in the corner. She had beautiful handwriting. She was a lefty. She was a lady. She wore pantsuits and blouses and things with embroidery. She put out unique and whimsical decorations for every holiday. She loved and collected teddy bears. She liked to watch Jeopardy. She wore a heart locket necklace with pictures of her two children in it. She liked the chicken club sandwich from Jack-in-The-Box. She enjoyed watching the birds in her garden, especially hummingbirds. She liked wind chimes. She loved Spring. She was genuinely clever and had a great sense of humor. She would sometimes close her eyes and clasp her hands together in delight when she laughed. She loved to hear anything we had to tell her about our lives. She was upbeat and positive and always smiling. She and her late husband, my Grandpa Fred, called each other "pal".

It was my honor and privilege to be her granddaughter. Whenever we visited her, she always said how lucky she was. I think we're the lucky ones.