It's June 1 and a gorgeous day - time to break out this summer's sprinkler pool. Last year, we had one with a blow-up palm tree, an inflated slide, and some fun star-shaped floaties that kids used as frisbees. Sadly, the star/frisbees are all that remain of the Sprinkler Pool, Version 1.0. At the end of last summer, we decided it was so mangled and non-sprinkley as to merit the garbage can. That sprinkler pool was sooooooooo worth the $19.99 investment, and we were sad to see it go.
Today, we unveiled Sprinkler Pool, Version 2.0. It cost $14.99 at Target and is shaped like a giant frog. There is a spot near the frog's head where, when you've hooked it up to your hose, water squirts out and fills the rest of the pool. Jason started blowing it up during the girls' nap time. The minute he finished, there were 5 neighbor kids standing at the edge of our lawn, wearing bathing suits and toting beach towels. That's just what happens with the sprinkler pool; as Shannon says, "If you blow it up, they will come" a la Field of Dreams.
Annie hopped in, pondered the experience, and announced, "Daddy, I want it to be a heated pool." So Jason promptly hooked it up to our downstairs laundry sink via a very long hose, and the kids were warm enough to play for almost an hour while we parents lounged around and talked. Again, I predict that, after 20 - 30 afternoons this summer, the $14.99 investment is going to pay off pretty well for us all. Here's hoping 2.0 makes it to the end of the summer!
Sunday, June 1, 2008
Saturday, May 31, 2008
May Photo Wrap-Up
A few favorite pictures from this last month: the girls checking out the tulips in Holland, our freshly-landscaped lawn, eating a random weekday lunch outside, Jason playing guitar while the girls frolic on our front steps, Jemma trying on all the shoes in the girls' shoe basket, Annie waking up from a nap with new dolly Cee Cee Bingo . . . just some everyday snapshots of happy times. Enjoy!
Wednesday, May 28, 2008
Food, Beverage, and Books
These are a few of my favorite things . . . hum it . . . you know you want to . . .
Food: I just ate a hot-dog for dinner, and my tummy's not happy. As a rule, I don't eat hot dogs. But tonight, the first of many "Wednesday Widows" dinners (where anyone whose husband is working late/out of town/sailing/other nonsense gathers with kids for some type of group dinner at a various house on the street), it was all I could mange because of the Jemma attached to my shoulder. Crying. Wants down. Crying. Wants up. Crying. Wants to frolic on the giant concrete steps in Shannon's backyard. Crying. Snot pouring out of nose. I think she has what I have, which is a wicked bout of allergies out of nowhere. I blow my nose until it is red and raw; she coughs snot up and lets it run down her face.
Sorry . . back to talking about food. So I ate a hot dog. And now, because it's been one of those days with my youngest whiner, I am eating Vanilla Heath Bar Crunch right out of the container. As I type. Yum.
Beverage: And as soon as I head downstairs, I'll be finishing off a bottle of lovely red wine I've newly discovered (thanks, Josh.) Shafer knock-off Cabernet at $20 per bottle versus the $80 my beloved Shafer now costs. Woe . . .
I'll also mention here (happy, Meg?) that last weekend was good in another way: Grapefruit Vodka Tonics. Here's what you do: Fill a cup with ice. Two fingers of Absolut Ruby Red. Tonic water to the top. Garnish with one, pure grapefruit segment. No pith. It is lovely (and thanks, Connie. Look - all my good beverage ideas are coming from the Kooistras!)
Books: I am reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. I should say TRYING to read. I'll read a section and come across a sentence where I'm nodding my head, feeling I've been granted the secret wisdom of living in the moment and relinquishing all stress. Here's an example, pg. 41:
"One thing we do know: Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment."
Good, right? I'm someone who needs reminders about living in the moment and accepting situations as they come, even when things are not going as planned. And then I'll come across a section like this:
"The pain-body is a semiautonomous energy-form that lives within most human beings, an entity made up of emotion. It has its own primitive intelligence, not unlike a cunning animal, and its intelligence is directed primarily at survival. Like all life-forms, it periodically needs to feed - to take in new energy - and the food it requires to replenish itself consists of energy that is compatible with its own, which is to say, energy that vibrates at a similar frequency."
Huh?
So, I'm trying to appreciate the helpful concepts and just let the confusing ones be. So far, it's a lot of new-agey psychology with some interesting insight thrown in. I'd be interested to see what someone else thinks. Anyone?
Lastly, still on the topic of books (sort of), here's what Annie busts out with as we're driving down the Beltine today after our hour-and-a-half Snippets haircut ordeal:
"Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you anyway."
Brownie points to the first person who can tell me what book that's from. (Or maybe grapefruit vodka points . . .)
Food: I just ate a hot-dog for dinner, and my tummy's not happy. As a rule, I don't eat hot dogs. But tonight, the first of many "Wednesday Widows" dinners (where anyone whose husband is working late/out of town/sailing/other nonsense gathers with kids for some type of group dinner at a various house on the street), it was all I could mange because of the Jemma attached to my shoulder. Crying. Wants down. Crying. Wants up. Crying. Wants to frolic on the giant concrete steps in Shannon's backyard. Crying. Snot pouring out of nose. I think she has what I have, which is a wicked bout of allergies out of nowhere. I blow my nose until it is red and raw; she coughs snot up and lets it run down her face.
Sorry . . back to talking about food. So I ate a hot dog. And now, because it's been one of those days with my youngest whiner, I am eating Vanilla Heath Bar Crunch right out of the container. As I type. Yum.
Beverage: And as soon as I head downstairs, I'll be finishing off a bottle of lovely red wine I've newly discovered (thanks, Josh.) Shafer knock-off Cabernet at $20 per bottle versus the $80 my beloved Shafer now costs. Woe . . .
I'll also mention here (happy, Meg?) that last weekend was good in another way: Grapefruit Vodka Tonics. Here's what you do: Fill a cup with ice. Two fingers of Absolut Ruby Red. Tonic water to the top. Garnish with one, pure grapefruit segment. No pith. It is lovely (and thanks, Connie. Look - all my good beverage ideas are coming from the Kooistras!)
Books: I am reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. I should say TRYING to read. I'll read a section and come across a sentence where I'm nodding my head, feeling I've been granted the secret wisdom of living in the moment and relinquishing all stress. Here's an example, pg. 41:
"One thing we do know: Life will give you whatever experience is most helpful for the evolution of your consciousness. How do you know this is the experience you need? Because this is the experience you are having at this moment."
Good, right? I'm someone who needs reminders about living in the moment and accepting situations as they come, even when things are not going as planned. And then I'll come across a section like this:
"The pain-body is a semiautonomous energy-form that lives within most human beings, an entity made up of emotion. It has its own primitive intelligence, not unlike a cunning animal, and its intelligence is directed primarily at survival. Like all life-forms, it periodically needs to feed - to take in new energy - and the food it requires to replenish itself consists of energy that is compatible with its own, which is to say, energy that vibrates at a similar frequency."
Huh?
So, I'm trying to appreciate the helpful concepts and just let the confusing ones be. So far, it's a lot of new-agey psychology with some interesting insight thrown in. I'd be interested to see what someone else thinks. Anyone?
Lastly, still on the topic of books (sort of), here's what Annie busts out with as we're driving down the Beltine today after our hour-and-a-half Snippets haircut ordeal:
"Mom?"
"Yeah?"
"I love you anyway."
Brownie points to the first person who can tell me what book that's from. (Or maybe grapefruit vodka points . . .)
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Jemma, 17 months
It's the 27th of May today, which means that it's exactly 17 months since my doctor insisted that Jemma come out and meet the world. And what's she up to, now? Well, she's not feeling her best today - she was up a few hours last night, coughing, until I took her outside into the cool air at 5:30 a.m. and it seemed to settle her lungs down - but, when is she? The child has no immune system and has spent a good 40% of her life with a cold of some sort. I hope that she's getting them all out of her system now and will be the picture of health in a couple of years.
In the communications department, she's still very into the vigorous nodding much more than any verbal communication, so I play a lot of yes/no 20 Questions with her: "Do you want a drink? Do you want milk? Do you want water? Do you want to hold your cup?" I am really, really looking forward to some increased vocabulary in the next month or two - I hope! I hope! - but the girl definitely knows what she wants and figures out a way to get it anyway. And just tonight, I watched her babble happily to herself for about 15 minutes in the bathtub, so I think she's going to have a lot to say, eventually.
Her personality . . . she's happiest when we're with large groups of people, preferably outside. When she's not feeling well or when she's bored, there is a lot of whining and crying. (It's totally normal to cry every single time your diaper is changed or your clothes are removed for 17 solid months, right?) She loves to try new things (except food) and has very little fear. Now that it's summer, she can often be found frolicking out on the front lawn or, maybe, riding Annie's scooter (very wobbly!), putting on Annie's bike helmet and pushing herself around on the tricycle with her feet, Flintstone-style, drawing with sidewalk chalk, running through the sprinkler, or running down the lawn straight for the street. She thinks she is three years old.
PLG: Her carseat is still rear-facing because she hasn't offically broken the 20-lb barrier at the doctor's office. Soon, soon . . .
I just pulled out all the 12-18 month clothes and put them in Jemma's closet for the summer; it's so much fun to see her wearing the things that Annie wore two summers ago when SHE was 18 months old, we lived at the beach in South Haven, and our lives were so different. I love my little feisty cuddler, though, and I'm grateful that we get to go through this stage again with a tiny little girl.
In the communications department, she's still very into the vigorous nodding much more than any verbal communication, so I play a lot of yes/no 20 Questions with her: "Do you want a drink? Do you want milk? Do you want water? Do you want to hold your cup?" I am really, really looking forward to some increased vocabulary in the next month or two - I hope! I hope! - but the girl definitely knows what she wants and figures out a way to get it anyway. And just tonight, I watched her babble happily to herself for about 15 minutes in the bathtub, so I think she's going to have a lot to say, eventually.
Her personality . . . she's happiest when we're with large groups of people, preferably outside. When she's not feeling well or when she's bored, there is a lot of whining and crying. (It's totally normal to cry every single time your diaper is changed or your clothes are removed for 17 solid months, right?) She loves to try new things (except food) and has very little fear. Now that it's summer, she can often be found frolicking out on the front lawn or, maybe, riding Annie's scooter (very wobbly!), putting on Annie's bike helmet and pushing herself around on the tricycle with her feet, Flintstone-style, drawing with sidewalk chalk, running through the sprinkler, or running down the lawn straight for the street. She thinks she is three years old.
PLG: Her carseat is still rear-facing because she hasn't offically broken the 20-lb barrier at the doctor's office. Soon, soon . . .
I just pulled out all the 12-18 month clothes and put them in Jemma's closet for the summer; it's so much fun to see her wearing the things that Annie wore two summers ago when SHE was 18 months old, we lived at the beach in South Haven, and our lives were so different. I love my little feisty cuddler, though, and I'm grateful that we get to go through this stage again with a tiny little girl.
Sunday, May 25, 2008
Memorial Day Weekend 2008
Ways it officially feels like summer now:
-There's been an outdoor party with neighbors where Jack Johnson was playing on the stereo and Annie got two "bleeding boo-boos" in the span of an hour by falling off a scooter.
-Walking home from said neighbor's house in the dark, it is actually WARM. In the dark. Wheeee!
-Running outside is possible (and perfect, temperature-wise) after I put the girls to bed.
-We take a while to get out the door, not because we're getting coats and hats on, but because we're smearing faces with the sunscreen stick.
-Popsicles. Ice cream. Asked for each and every day by Annie.
-The outdoor pool has opened, and we have been in it.
-It seems silly to bring our lawn chairs inside at night, because we know we'll just use them again the next day.
-We have weeded, mulched, planted, and watered our front landscaping. I took pictures because this is the best it's going to look all summer.
So, the weekend isn't even over yet, and we're really enjoying the official kick-off to summer 2008. Pictures of the happiness to come . . .
-There's been an outdoor party with neighbors where Jack Johnson was playing on the stereo and Annie got two "bleeding boo-boos" in the span of an hour by falling off a scooter.
-Walking home from said neighbor's house in the dark, it is actually WARM. In the dark. Wheeee!
-Running outside is possible (and perfect, temperature-wise) after I put the girls to bed.
-We take a while to get out the door, not because we're getting coats and hats on, but because we're smearing faces with the sunscreen stick.
-Popsicles. Ice cream. Asked for each and every day by Annie.
-The outdoor pool has opened, and we have been in it.
-It seems silly to bring our lawn chairs inside at night, because we know we'll just use them again the next day.
-We have weeded, mulched, planted, and watered our front landscaping. I took pictures because this is the best it's going to look all summer.
So, the weekend isn't even over yet, and we're really enjoying the official kick-off to summer 2008. Pictures of the happiness to come . . .
Tuesday, May 20, 2008
My Day in Three Words or Less
Tuesday. Library. Poop.
Need I say more?
Well, I will; a little bit, at least. A fairly good day today - sunshine, time outside, another successful gym workout (Jemma cries when I leave her and when I pick her up, but is supposedly happy in between), and some easy playing at the library. Jason, in a surprise move, got home EARLY tonight and was able to help with bedtime, which pleased me greatly.
The thing that is driving me crazy right now is Annie's erratic sleep patterns. Ever since I read the book Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child when Annie was about 5 months old and it became MY SLEEP BIBLE, I have been somewhat obsessed with making sure my children sleep well. We don't go places during their nap times. We don't make plans to stay out late and disrupt bedtimes. We don't go in and mess around once they've been tucked in (unless they're sick). So far, I've been rewarded (or just lucky) with two girls who mostly get all the sleep they need and are better-behaved for it.
Now, Annie is ceasing the afternoon nap. I know - she's nearly four years old, so this is completely normal. And I agree. If she would just totally give it up and then, instead, go to bed earlier at night, I could cope. I would miss the lull in our day after lunch, but I would get over it. What I can't handle is her pretending that she's going to nap so I go through all the story/tucking-in drama and leave her in there with plans to do other things for an hour or so . . . only to have her emerge later, smiling sheepishly, not having napped. And does she go to bed earlier those nights, to make up for lost sleep? NO. She chats and sings and eats the paint off her bed (that will have to wait for another post) for up to an hour and a half before finally going to sleep. Needless to say, her mood and behavior lately have not been the best ever. Lots of rudeness, random meltdowns and tantrums, and late-afternoon weeping and whining.
I have hope: that this is a phase to be gotten through, similar to when they give up the morning nap and are grouchy for a month or two; that the ramped-up activity when Annie starts gymnastics will tire her out sufficiently for her to keep napping through the summer; that she will totally stop napping, we'll be able to start doing fun things in the afternons, and she'll really go to bed earlier; that I'll acquire a Zen-like attitude about the whole thing, knowing that I've done my Heathy Sleep Habits best to provide her with a postive sleep system and she'll eventually choose to get all the sleep her body needs.
The Zen-like attitude is not likely. But I have started reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. Perhaps a zen-like attitude will soon be mine . . .
Need I say more?
Well, I will; a little bit, at least. A fairly good day today - sunshine, time outside, another successful gym workout (Jemma cries when I leave her and when I pick her up, but is supposedly happy in between), and some easy playing at the library. Jason, in a surprise move, got home EARLY tonight and was able to help with bedtime, which pleased me greatly.
The thing that is driving me crazy right now is Annie's erratic sleep patterns. Ever since I read the book Healthy Sleep Habits, Happy Child when Annie was about 5 months old and it became MY SLEEP BIBLE, I have been somewhat obsessed with making sure my children sleep well. We don't go places during their nap times. We don't make plans to stay out late and disrupt bedtimes. We don't go in and mess around once they've been tucked in (unless they're sick). So far, I've been rewarded (or just lucky) with two girls who mostly get all the sleep they need and are better-behaved for it.
Now, Annie is ceasing the afternoon nap. I know - she's nearly four years old, so this is completely normal. And I agree. If she would just totally give it up and then, instead, go to bed earlier at night, I could cope. I would miss the lull in our day after lunch, but I would get over it. What I can't handle is her pretending that she's going to nap so I go through all the story/tucking-in drama and leave her in there with plans to do other things for an hour or so . . . only to have her emerge later, smiling sheepishly, not having napped. And does she go to bed earlier those nights, to make up for lost sleep? NO. She chats and sings and eats the paint off her bed (that will have to wait for another post) for up to an hour and a half before finally going to sleep. Needless to say, her mood and behavior lately have not been the best ever. Lots of rudeness, random meltdowns and tantrums, and late-afternoon weeping and whining.
I have hope: that this is a phase to be gotten through, similar to when they give up the morning nap and are grouchy for a month or two; that the ramped-up activity when Annie starts gymnastics will tire her out sufficiently for her to keep napping through the summer; that she will totally stop napping, we'll be able to start doing fun things in the afternons, and she'll really go to bed earlier; that I'll acquire a Zen-like attitude about the whole thing, knowing that I've done my Heathy Sleep Habits best to provide her with a postive sleep system and she'll eventually choose to get all the sleep her body needs.
The Zen-like attitude is not likely. But I have started reading A New Earth by Eckhart Tolle. Perhaps a zen-like attitude will soon be mine . . .
Sunday, May 18, 2008
Pull Yourself Together, Stephanie . . .
So, I've had a few days to process my latest tantrum. Reading again what I wrote on Wednesday night, I feel a little annoyed with that self: a touch too much angst and self-pity, yes? And I almost erased the post and moved on, until I read this post by another blogger who had herself a similar, nonsensical breakdown. Hers was over a burrito in a Chipotle restaurant, mine was partially because, damn it, I wanted to go see Barack Obama and nobody could watch my squalling children, but differences aside, it's good to find verification that, yes, other good moms have moments where it all goes wrong and they question what they're doing.
I realize every single day that I am lucky in so, so many ways - a supportive, involved husband; enough money for take-out food, babysitters, a gym membership and lots of other little luxuries; good friends who write and call and e-mail when I start to lose it (thanks, guys); healthy, thriving children; the choices I have that women a generation ago had to struggle for so much. We had a great weekend as a family, too - time at the pool, Saturday in Holland with my parents at the Farmer's Market, a family run, dinner outside. I'm feeling optimistic going into this week and I'm going to try to enjoy this stage more, even while doing a little brainstorming about how I might make it better, including thinking about some part-time work possibilties.
But I'm not going to erase the post. I think that someday, when Annie or Jemma is knee-deep in changing diapers and filling sippy cups, they might take some comfort from reading about my struggles. And I might remember the difficulty just enough that I don't forget to help them through it instead of glossing over how wonderful it all is.
Tomorrow: Annie's last day of preschool for the year. I remember her first day so clearly - striped knee socks, backpack, blue shirt, khaki skirt as she casually hugged me good-bye - and I really can't believe she's all done for the summer. Bittersweet, for sure, watching her move through this time. (Now, I'm not crying in my bed about it like a certain person I know . . . but catch me after next year, when she's headed to Young 5's or Kindergarten, and I probably will be.)
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
