Boogie Woogie Santa

Boogie Woogie Santa

Boogie Woogie Santa

I know it's been a couple of days since I've managed to post anything interesting; I think you'll agree it was worth the wait. I think (I hope!) I've figured out how to post video right in my blog, which could have far-reaching implications for future blogs (Jemma bopping, conversations with Annie, incriminating holiday parties . . .).

For this time, however, I've tried to capture for posterity Annie's first dress rehearsal for her upcoming Christmas dance recital. The actual recital is on December 8th, and I'm already so curious about how it will go. It's in a real, live auditorium and all of the Twinkle Toes sections have one song to perform, so there will be approximately 7-8 dance classes there, plus all accompanying parents, grandparents, siblings, etc. I predict that, when faced with the enormity of the audience, at least 50% of the 3-year-olds are going to either cry or stand frozen to the spot for their entire song. Plus, who knows where we'll be sitting on the actual day, because I don't have that "psycho-mom" gene that encourages me to arrive 5 hours early to lay my coat over the best seats.

So when Miss Amy invited parents in to help the girls get used to an audience this week, I was prepared with my videocamera. To the right is Annie's friend Grace and to the left is our neighbor Ava. It was their first time wearing the spangly red belts and the slightly-too-large Santa hats, but adorable nontheless. Enjoy the dancing; if nothing else, it might bring a bit more of the Christmas spirit to you!

New Year's Resolutions . . . in November

I have just returned from the gym. Tonight is the first time I have been to the gym since sometime in April (I am not counting the many summertime trips to the outdoor pool with the girls because no exercise was involved) and I had been on the verge of cancelling my membership and deciding to just run/walk outside for the winter and maybe invest in a decent yoga class on the side.

But, I loved it! It was so fantastic to be there, hiking it up on the super-vertical treadmill (I climbed 1000 vertical feet at a 30% incline!) and messing around with a few upper-body weights. I was so inspired and energized that I took a class schedule and might start experimenting with some new things for the winter. I could even see myself going there at the crack of dawn on those mornings like this morning, when I spontaneously awoke at 4:45 and never really got back to sleep. Might as well do something productive with my time, right?

So, a jump-start on my New Year's Resolutions:

-Spend more time at the gym (how cliche is this for a NYR?)
-Do more cultural things in and around GR, especially since my nights are about to open up as the nursing-countdown continues . . . Jemma is 11 months today, so my presence will be required at bedtime for approximately one more month only!
-Drink more. I am borrowing this one from Sarah Van Deven, and by drink, I mean alcohol. My tolerance is a pitiful "if I have two glasses of wine in one night, I'll have a headache in the morning," and something must be done about it. So, more drinking it is!

Add to this the fact that my parents have already committed to babysitting for New Year's Eve, and I have that holiday all taken care of. Now, if I could just get into the Christmas spirit a little bit more . . .

Circle Time

We got a sneak peek tonight at the daily goings-on at Annie's preschool when we attended the fall Open House. Annie proudly showed us around her classroom, where she smelled and rolled the Play-Doh (peppermint), smelled and sculpted with the styrofoam peanuts (no smell), and smelled and made a Fruit Loop bracelet with me (fruity, obviously). Her teacher, Miss Collette, informed me that Annie is one of three "smellers" in the class this year, and she said that she always makes sure to point out a new smell to them or warn them if something, like glue, isn't going to be good to smell. (There is no question that she gets this trait from Jason. I won't list the many disgusting things that he must compulsively smell.) During the rest of the open house, Annie basically had her bracelet next to her nose and would only have been happier if she could have permanently lodged one of the Fruit Loops inside her nostril.

Then, Circle Time. We parents watched, trying to hide our laughter behind our hands, while the teachers led the kids in some singing and motions while they sat in a circle. Ben, especially, sat for about 1/100 of the time, and spent most of his circle energy doing round-offs into the middle of the circle. Often, inspired, Annie followed. There was one especially precious moment when they turned off the lights and sang "Twinkle, Twinkle Little Star" while holding flashlights, but otherwise, it was just an affirmation that three-year-olds are the wiggliest, most impulsive things in the world. And a reminder that the teachers should have their pay doubled immediately.

At the end, we had snack. Per usual, Annie was the very last one done, so we watched her savor every last morsel of her self-frosted cookie while Miss Collette further informed us that Annie is the last person at the snack table every single day. She loves her food . . . especially when it is cookies and juice. And Connie and I had a moment or two where we looked at each other across the room and thought, "Seriously? Am I really at my kid's preschool open house, wearing a nametag, being the MOM?" Guess we're not in college anymore.

I was so proud of my little, big girl. I can hardly believe that she goes somewhere two days a week, does things, learns things, and has actual conversations and interactions without me. It is her first step of many away from me, and even though I am proud, I am a little sad, too.

After the open house, we took advantage of the fact that Miss Kelly was already at our house, managing Jemma, so we dropped Annie off and went out for some grown-up dinner. Annie was initially thrilled to play with Miss Kelly, but then apparently fell apart some time during bathtime because she "wanted her Mommy." I hate to think that Annie was sad and wanting me when I wasn't there for her, but I'm a tiny bit glad that she still needs me that way. I love her soooo much.

This afternoon, the roofers were putting some metal sheeting on the part of our roof that leaked last winter, so Annie couldn't fall asleep in her own bed. I brought her in my bed, where she napped (and I got to watch) for an hour or so. And then Jemma woke up, rosy and chubby and gleeful, and reached her little hands high above her head for me to lift her out of her crib, and I was so glad to be home with my girls on a cold November day.

O Christmas Tree

We have returned from our Thanksgiving journey up north, and we are thankful to be home. While it was cozy and snowy in Petoskey and we loved spending some fun time with our niece, it is great to be back. We spent the remainder of our Thanksgiving weekend unpacking, eating my mother-in-law's leftover cinnamon rolls (yum!), doing laundry, cleaning the house, getting groceries, Christmas shopping, doing yard work, and getting our Christmas tree from a cute tree farm in Rockford.

Oh, what a Christmas tree it is: we call it our Balsam Baby, and it is making our whole house smell wonderful. Last night, after decorating it and having some wintry butternut squash soup (which exploded all over me when I put it in the blender . . . I should not be allowed to use our blender, ever), we made a fire and some hot cocoa and enjoyed our tree while listening to Christmas music. Annie's favorite song, by far, is Jingle Bells (mine are O Holy Night and Have Yourself a Merry Little Christmas; Jason is partial to the Perry Como Christmas album; and Jemma continues to do a full-body "bop" to any and all music). I love this time of year so much, and even more now that we have kids to share it with. Annie is obsessed with the ceramic nativity scene that we unpacked yesterday and spends a good part of her day trying to sneakily play with it even though we told her it's just to look at . . . I am a good mom (or a sucker for marketing) and have ordered her the Fisher Price nativity scene as an early-Christmas present to be opened next weekend at my Dad's side Christmas party. I can hardly wait to see the hilarity that ensues when she has full access to all the characters. Already, she insists that the wise man is "Jesus' grandpa."

Annie's Friends

Because I know I'll want to remember this someday, a partial list of Annie's various "friends," some real and some imaginary:

Real, actual people who she sees on a daily/weekly basis and talks about frequently: Ben, Lucy and Tommy, Ava Rose, Caden, Kate and Ian, and other assorted neighbors

Friends at school: Ben (again), Gwen, Aidan, Alex, William, McKenna, Ella

Friends at dance class: Ava (who she gets in the most trouble with), Lily, Grace, Betsy (whose glasses she is captivated by), Audrey (who is spunky and won't let Annie cut in line)

Dolls: Gracie, Dinah, Trini, Brother (a pink, stuffed cloth doll), Amy, Cinderella

Stuffed animals she's named: cats named Steven and Sophie, a lion named Simba, a hippo named Sprinkles, a horse named Nugget, bears named Nene and Curtsy, a dog named Pup and another named Prairie Dog . . . good grief.

Also, the asian boy on the Life Cereal box is known to the Doublestein family as Peter, and we must never, ever purchase other boxes of Life Cereal with the caucasian boy on them.

What's fun, here, is that when I'm packing (say, for example, to go up north for a few days), I'm never really sure which of the two dozen dolls/animals Annie is going to want most desperately. Tonight, I tried to get her to pick two or three special ones to put in her backpack for tomorrow's trip, and she did so willingly, but there's no telling who she's going to NEEEEEEED upon arrival in Petoskey. Here's hoping that Dinah, Simba, and Cinderella are the right choices for this Thanksgiving extravaganza.

Happy Turkey Day, everyone!

Things I Did Today

1. Ordered new family pictures and our Christmas cards. Yeah! Feels good to finally make a decision; will feel better to just address those things and send them off instead of torturing myself with silly expectations of crafting my own, original-yet-similar-to-Martha-Stewart cards, then writing a personal message in each, then hating them by the time I send them off. This year, Christmas cheer from the Doublesteins.

2. Changed Jemma's poopy diaper 5 times. I feel this is too many times in one day. I don't have this kind of time . . .

3. Lost to Annie in Disney Memory, the god of games at our house. In case I didn't already know all the Disney characters by heart, now I get to see them about 3 times a day. Sometimes, Annie wants to play a round with "just the princesses," so then I get to sort through all 3,000 cards and find the princesses. And then, she beats me. She's frighteningly good at it.

4. Ordered fabric for my soon-to-be-made curtains! This will prevent another dark winter where the world stares in on the Doublesteins in their living room all night long. I'm excited. I'll take a picture when they're finished. (Note: I am not making them. I don't sew. Not even buttons.)

5. Made risotto, which Annie pronounces "prisotto" for some reason. Jemma happily ate about 4 spoonfuls, and then intentionally, methodically threw the rest on the ground. This is becoming standard for her at mealtimes, unless I am serving straight fruit. Grrrrr.

6. Got groceries in preparation for the Thanksgiving weekend up north. Instead of being required to bring something to contribute to the Thanksgiving meal, I am somehow in charge of providing Friday's dinner for 10 people. I am not sure how this task befell me, but there it is. Why not tote a giant cooler up north along with the girls and all their gear?

7. Watched Jemma try to break down the bathroom door by banging on it and stretching up on her tip-toes to try to reach the handle. She really, really loves to play in the toilet and stand and yell at the side of the tub, so she's furious that we keep the door shut. Other recent Jemma-loves: the phone, the living room lamp, and the pile of books I keep beside my bed. I'm beginning to worry about how she'll respond to the Christmas tree . . .

Now, to bed.

Under Warranty

Such beautiful words. Especially when you drive your husband's new car for the very first time ever and it refuses to start in the Target parking lot. This happened to me yesterday, and even though it was inconvenient and a little bit infuriating (the part where Jason, upon hearing the news via my cell phone, wanted Connie to get in and try to start it when she came to pick me up because, you know, she's used to driving German cars . . . the implication being that I didn't know how to start a car . . . ), it's shocking to me that it cost us nothing. Tow truck putting in on a flatbed and taking it to the dealership? Free. Dealership hooking it up to the computer? Free. Mechanic replacing the ignition coil? Free. (Ahem. Jason. See, there was something a tiny bit wrong with the car!)

This is the first time in our whole married life that we've owned a car that's still under warranty, and I am really into it. I'd like to reflect on the time when, after we were just married and had moved to Ann Arbor, our Subaru wouldn't start at the mall. This was 1999, and we didn't even have a cell phone. So we had to walk somewhere to call someone to come tow the car. And then we had to walk home from the mall to our PLG apartment, at night, wearing flip-flops. It was approximately 5 miles. We literally didn't know a single person in the whole city to call and come get us. I suppose we could have taken a cab, but we were poor starving newlyweds whose big extravagance for the month was to go to Kerrytown Bistro and get the French Onion Soup and a glass of wine each. And then we had to pay for the tow truck, and for the work to be done on the car. I don't even remember how we managed that, but I assume Jason's parents took pity on us and helped us out.

So, I think having a car under warranty might be like having a dishwasher or an attached garage: you can live without it for a very long time if you've never known any better. But as soon as you've had a taste of the convenience, you can't go back. I'm secretly already planning how we can replace my Subaru with another, identical Subaru that's still under warranty . . .

A Few Recent Moments of Absurdity

Yesterday morning, while dropping Annie off at school, we pulled into the parking lot just as Connie, Ben, and Sam did. We parked next to them, and Annie and Ben began their joyous morning conversation as soon as they popped out of their cars.

"Hi, Annie!"
"Hi, Ben!"
"Want to see my tractor I brought for show and tell?"
"Yeah, I do!"
"OK" (shows her the tractor, proudly)
"Want to see my picture of me and Cinderella?"
"Yeah, I do!"
"Here it is, see?" (shows picture of Cinderella and Annie, proudly)

They continue this way as we all walk down the steps towards school, glorying in all their Annie-and-Ben adorableness, while Connie and I roll our eyes and smile because they are just so ridiculously cute. Silence for a moment as we cross over to the sidewalk, and then:

"Hi, Annie!" (as if just now seeing her for the first time of the day)
"Hi, Ben!" . . .

. . . and the conversation repeats itself, almost word for word. Did they seriously not remember having that conversation 30 seconds ago, or did they like it so much that they wanted to have it again? It was like watching the movie Groundhog Day. Absurd.

******************************

Jemma, at 10 1/2 months, is nearly over the whole nursing thing, I think. We're pretty much down to first thing in the morning and last thing at night, with an occasional midday feeding thrown in depending on what she's eating/doing. Last night, she was weepy and sort of inconsolable for about 2 hours while we had some neighbors over for dinner. You would have thought she was so uncomfortable, tired, or sick. So I put her in the tub immediately after they left, did a quick bath, and went to put my poor, sad baby to bed. At which point she became happy, energetic, hyper baby while I tried to nurse her one last time. She'd nurse for a minute or two, then pull her head away, sit up a little, and clap her hands with a big smile on her face. Then, back to nursing. Repeat about four times, until I gave up and put her in her crib, where she promptly fell asleep. She was happy to be nursing? She was happy to be going to bed? Who knows.

********************************

At dance today, the instructor had all the parents come into the dance classroom for a few minutes so that the girls could have an "audience" as practice for their upcoming recital. She had the girls stand on their tape, turned on the music, and commenced to model the dance they'll supposedly be doing in a mere three weeks. Annie's response?

1. Twirl madly around and around while stamping her tap shoes loudly (this is NOT what the instructor was doing during this part of the dance).

2. Attempt to follow along and actually DO the correct dance for about 7 seconds.

3. Pick her nose.

4. Pretend, three times in quick succession, to fall down on the ground, say, "Oops!" and pick herself up very dramatically.

5. Notice that the girl next to her has stopped all movement to stare at her own reflection in the mirror, and follow suit.

6. Run over to me proudly the minute the music stops and says, "Give me five, Mommy! Good job dancing!"

Jemma, clapping madly.

I'm Not Crazy About . . .

(this time it's MY turn):

-Jemma, at 10 1/2 months, apparently trying to phase out her morning nap. Four or five days in a row, now, she's acted soooooooo tired around 9:00, but then, when I put her in the crib, she spends 20-30 minutes chatting/whining before getting to sleep. This morning, 45 minutes later, she was still awake, so I gave up. Grrr. I thought I had at least 4-5 more months of a guaranteed shower time.

-Annie needing to take off every single item of clothing below the waist every single time she uses the bathroom. This include shoes and socks, which she is not the best at putting on herself. This afternoon, she walked casually out into the living room, butt-naked from the waist down, carrying her pants/socks/underwear in a ball while Heidi was over. Sorry, Heidi.

-leaf blowers. Seriously, a leaf weighs 1-billionth of an ounce. Even wet and in large quantities, they are not so heavy that you can't just take ten minutes and rake them to the curb. Leaf blowers are obnoxiously noisy and so unnecessary around here, where everyone's lawn is the size of a postage stamp. That means you, Shawn Bergsma!

-my fall/winter wardrobe. Specifically, the sweater department. I appear to have a lot of sweaters, but really, there are only about 5 that I like. Today, I tried to shake it up a little and wear one that I haven't pulled out in a while. I had it on for about 10 minutes before I had to rip it off because it was both ugly and too big. After thinking about it, I realized that I got this sweater for Christmas back in about 1997. No joke. Jason and I were dating, but not engaged and/or married. Time for some current sweaters.

Things I WAS crazy about today:

-taking a big morning walk with the girls and then raking leaves in the unbelievably gorgeous weather.

-Annie helping me make the dough for the chicken pot pies, getting her chubby fingers all flour-y and messy with a big smile on her face.

-meeting little Katherine Jane Brandt, who has so much hair it makes baby Jemma hair look tame.

-Jemma belly-laughing hysterically while Kelly tickled her out on the steps this afternoon.

-a really beautiful sunset.

"I'm Not Crazy About . . .

________." Fill in the blank here with any number of words (that face, pork, you being in my room, hearts, gum, that song), and you'll have a good idea of what it sounds like at our house lately now that Annie puts most things into two categories: things she loves really much, and things she isn't crazy about. It's pretty damn funny to hear it coming out of her mouth, and I'm glad that at least she hasn't picked up the "I hate . . ." or "______ sucks" that I remember my own mom veto-ing in my youth.

In other news, Jason arrived home last night around 7:15 to a joyous Annie. (I was pretty joyous, too. Seriously, I don't know how people do it when their spouses travel a lot for work. Clearly, I am a wimp.) There were a lot of questions about Florida and a very contented Daddy/Annie game of Disney Memory (leading to the "I'm not crazy about you being in my room" when I tried to go in and join. Apparently, Annie and I had had enough of one another for those four days.). In spite of a few extended meltdowns, Annie and Jemma did so well in his absence. I learned a few things about myself during the short absence, too:

-Being on my own made me be more organized than I am when Jason's around. At night, for example, I set out everything for breakfast, put the coffee in the coffee-maker, and packed the diaper bag for whatever activity we had planned the next morning.

-If Jason weren't here, with his love of meat-and-potatoes dinners, I'd be less motivated to cook decent food. When it's just me and the girls, it's much easier to just feed them random things from the pantry that require minimal preparation. It's shameful, really . . . I'll just say the words "Mini Nilla Wafers" and we'll not speak of it again. Tonight, thankfully, I got back on track with pork chops, stuffing, salad, and applesauce.

-I love sleeping in the bed all by myself! Perhaps it's time for a king-size mattress . . .

-I'm so lucky to (normally) have a husband who's so present for our family time. This morning, Jason didn't have to be to the office until 11:30 for a post-conference meeting, so our whole family had a jammie dance party to the new Allison Krauss/Robert Plant album, complete with maracas for the kids and coffee for the grown-ups. (Jemma with a maraca is hilarious!) I love all the time we have to enjoy the girls and just be silly together.

Day Four . . .

of being a single parent, and the lifestyle is taking its toll. I was holding it all together pretty well for the first couple of days, thanks in part to various dinner invitations from kind neighbors and friends. We spent yesterday at my parents', and it was great to have some distractions and help with meals, entertainment, etc. But this morning, it's 10:00 a.m., and already we've made cookies and had a dance party, and I'm spent. I'm just sheer out of things to do and am dying for a little "me" time . . . which I'm not going to get, seeing as tomorrow is Monday and the workweek will begin all over again. What I am going to get, I think, is Annie asking variations of the questions, "When is Daddy going to get back from Florida?" and "What time is it?" until he walks in the door right around her bedtime.

Time to go grab a shower . . .

Cinderella Takes Over My Life

It's happened: I've let my house and life be overrun by a mass-marketed, plastic, ridiculously-proportioned Disney character. I swore - swore! - that my children would not become sucked in by crap toys because I, their mother, would shield them from all such advertising and then, later, teach them to see right through all the marketing ploys and choose lovely, quality things. Please.

But somehow, even though Annie has spent the entirety of her life thinking that Sesame Street is the only show that's on during the day, she has become obsessed with Cinderella. Chalk it up to friends, the mall, Targeting trips, the many toy catalogs that arrive at our house daily . . . it snuck in. Then one day, a relative gave her the Cinderella movie and the obsession became complete. (To be fair, I think it's one of the few Disney movies that's fine for a 3-year-old to watch, because there's no scary, witchy person killing someone with fruit and/or being pushed off a cliff, etc.) Now, our kitchen table is covered with the teeny, tiny pieces and parts to the moveable Cinderella figurine Jason got her - glass slippers, crown, even a tiny bird that lands on her scrawny wrist -, Cinderella stick-on earrings, a Cinderella ring that has lip gloss inside (!), her Cinderella pen that lights up when you draw with it, her Crayola Color Wonder Princess coloring book . . . and surely there are about 20 more things downstairs covered with the blonde beauty. Remember the real, live Cinderella who made an appearance at the Princess Birthday party a few weeks ago? Don't worry - the picture Annie took with her is proudly displayed on our refrigerator. Cinderella is her hero.

A few years ago, before I had kids, this would have driven me crazy. I have had enough friends with body-image issues to get a little fired up about little girls (toddlers, really) idolizing these size-zero princesses who get saved from their squalid lives by the handsome prince who swoops in and loves them because they're beautiful. And I do still want to raise my girls to be strong, competent, smart women who measure themselves by other things than their waist size. But I've given up managing every little influence that comes their way because, really, it's impossible. Also, it's time to start letting Annie make some of her own choices about what's fun, what's interesting, and what's entertaining.

So tonight, Jemma went to bed early, and Annie and I snuggled on the couch and watched the first half of Cinderella together under a blanket. With one hand, she clutched her Cinderella doll; with the other, she held my hand. It's the longest time Annie has sat still and cuddled me in a very long time, and I guess I have - who else? - Cinderella to thank for that.

It's Official . . .

After naps today (yes, plural - both girls, thank goodness!), we headed outside for a walk and spotted the first offical snowflakes of the season. And I must admit, I felt a teeny, tiny bit of joy and childish glee. As much as I dislike snow in general (the cold wetness of it, the slush on my shoes, the inches on my car, walking around with my shoulders hunched up around my ears), I did feel a tinge of excitment for the upcoming winter holidays and the fun I'll have with the girls doing snow-related activities. I'm so curious to see what Jemma does with it, and I know Annie loves to make snow angels and build pretty much anything out of it, so we'll make the best of it and have a fun winter. At least, until mid-January, when I'll be beside myself with wanting spring.

And then, to mark the "winterness" of it all, we went to Starbucks and I enjoyed my first Peppermint Mocha of the Christmas season. Mmmmmm. Though the PSL eluded me, I am confident that I can re-create the PM with my espresso machine. Tomorrow: to Russo's to purchase peppermint syrup and some more chocolate, too. I'm going to need some caffeinated nourishment to get me through the weekend ahead.

An Open Letter to Annie's Preschool

Dear Annie's Preschool,

When I arrived to pick Annie up today at 11:09 a.m., you were just bringing her class out to the playground. This only allows her six minutes to burn off all her available energy for the morning. I'm sure you did all sorts of fun, indoor projects in the preceeding two hours, but this does not help me.

See, I'm not paying $109 per month for Annie to sing "Twinkle, Twinkle, Little Star" or fingerpaint; we can do that at home. What I'm looking for here is time for Annie to have fun without me, and for her to be tired out when I bring her home for lunch. Maybe if she were tired when I brought her home for lunch, I wouldn't have had to spend my time from 1:00 - 2:00 today holding her bedroom door shut because she refused to even stay in her room for her quiet time. And then, maybe if she had rested and/or slept from 1:00 - 2:00 today, we could have avoided the grocery store meltdown that occurred when I didn't let my overtired, overstimulated 3-year-old smell each and every packet of gum in the checkout lane. We might also have skipped the 47,000 time-outs that occurred from 3:00 - 5:00 p.m. As Sarah would say, I'm just sayin'.

So, from now on, if you want to have them out on the playground for a whole hour, I won't complain about the lack of cute artwork for our bulletin board. If it's a very nice day, just go ahead and keep her out there for the entire time. Really. Because six minutes just isn't enough.

Daylight Savings Time . . .

always makes me very, deeply depressed. And it starts tonight. I hate thinking about how, tomorrow night, it's going to be dark at 6:00. Thus begins 4-5 months of me attempting to hurl myself straight from the dinner table into my bed: no phone calls, no exercising, no housework in the evenings. My body wants to shut down. Must stock up on books and carbohydrates.

Also, I highly doubt that Jemma is going to magically reprogram her sleeping rhythms in one day, so I expect she'll wake up early tomorrow morning. Also Monday morning, and then she'll want to go down for her morning nap before I take Annie to school, which obviously isn't a possibility. The week should be interesting, sleep-wise.

Bright spots in the day today included Michigan beating Michigan State (so at least Jason will be happy and not marching around the house shaking his head despondently), eating chili and pumpkin pie during the game with Chris, Sarah, and twins, and watching Isabelle and Payton eat their cupcakes at their first birthday party. I can't wrap my mind around the fact that Jemma will be doing that in only two months! She is hardly my baby anymore; she wore pigtails today, and they looked kind of long! Plus, she has learned the sign for "all done," and claps her hands when she likes something that happens.

Girls' night out at Naya last night . . . I had the best martini(s!) - some sort of irresistible mixture of espresso-flavored vodka, Godiva chocolate liqueur, and creme de cacao - and a great time laughing with the girls. We mostly entertained ourselves by speculating on which yummy mummy patrons had had plastic surgery, fantasizing about our next Somerset/Birch Run shopping expedition, and eating goat cheese and olives. Lots of olives.

Annie just barged in, straight from her shower and wrapped in a big towel. "I'm a shepherd," she announced, then threw off the towel and asked, "Want to see how tall I am?" Stood proudly, naked, in front of me, and then said solemly, "I'm almost a grown-up." We're letting her stay up late in hopes of adjusting her to the Daylight Savings and she's pleased as punch. When she finished playing her new Memory game with Jason earlier, she realized it was 8:00 and had to marvel at being up "so so late."

My goal was to bed in bed by 8:30 tonight, so I have 12 minutes to get downstairs and ready for the sleeping. I'm really, really craving the sleeping.

Tricks and Treats

Jason is downstairs with the girls right now, watching Journey DVDs and making a cornucopia of musical sounds, so that I can sit down in a chair and think and write for the first time in four days. God bless him. (He owes me, though, because he got to get the car he really wanted instead of the used Accord I was pushing for.)

It's been one of those weeks with Annie. She didn't nap any day except, mercifully, on Halloween and then was a trainwreck for at least 50% of the time she was awake. Yesterday afternoon, she actually screamed, "I don't want to go to the store!" over and over and over all the way to Art of the Table. I have had to use all my best coping mechanisms. These include: saying things like, "I understand that you feel tired, but that's not a reason to treat people this way. Now we're going to do ______ and I know you can make a good choice" in a calm, rational voice; turning up NPR so loud that I can't exactly hear the words she's shouting from the backseat; threatening to throw away all of the remaining Halloween candy; taking away any beloved dolls; and my favorite, telling myself a little story in my head about how I am so lucky to have a healthy, wonderful daughter and just think how terribly devastating it would be if something were really wrong with her and how I have it so much better than so many struggling mothers and how I really DO love her and how this is just a phase . . . etc. Sometimes that puts it in perspective. And when it doesn't, at least we have had our share of grown-up time lately so I can remember that other parts of my life are fun even when the parenting piece is challenging.

Halloween itself was pretty adorable. Though I have lots of good memories of being a rock star or Snoopy or a 50's party girl in my youth, I honestly haven't been a huge fan in my adult years. Now, however, I have to admit, it's regaining its former appeal when I get to celebrate it with little kids again (especially, little kids who do not spend the entire day in my classroom, consuming mass quantities of candy while their hyper-vigilant mothers come up with reasons to invade my classroom with elaborate parties).

Annie was so pleased to spend most of the day running around in her lion costume. She wore it to school in the morning and then donned it again for the neighborhood "Halloweenie" party (of course there were hot dogs!) and trick-or-treating. My parents came for the night to see the girls in costume and help pass out candy at our house while we went out with the girls. Jemma's appearance was brief due to the rain, but Annie hung in there with her umbrella and yelled out a surprisingly brave and loud, "Trick or Treat!!!" at the houses of people we know on the street. Jemma also refuses to wear hats if she can possibly get them off, so she was less "lion" and more "baby wearing tan one-piece romper." Note Annie's glee when surrounded by her "take" just before the end of the night. (Needless to say, 90% of that loot has mysteriously disappeared, and the remaining treats are being rationed and possibly saved for the Thanksgiving car trip that looms in our future.)

Last night, we had an awesome night out with Adam and Jason, Chris and Sarah. Dinner (and lots of drinks) at the Green Well, followed by a quick stop at Yesterdog for fourth meal, then more wine at our house with Adam and Jason before bed. So great to see old friends and laugh hysterically, mostly at/with Adam and his wealth of unbelievable stories. We had pumpkin pancakes for breakfast this morning, then managed to hit Meijer Gardens with the whole group again, this time with kids in tow. Everyone did remarkably well and the outdoor sculpture walk was at the height of its fall beautiful-ness.

Tonight: out with the girls to celebrate Connie's birthday! Must keep up the frenetic pace of this weekend! Tomorrow: 1-year-old birthday party, Michigan game . . . the fun never ends, and the laundry never gets done, either.