Jemma, 18 Months

Today is Jemma's 18-month milestone, and it was a really good day. This morning, we got to spend some time with wonderful old friends - Di, Oliver, and Amelia - playing at the park and just hanging out. This afternoon, we hit Jonathan's new sprinkler pool and then I took the girls out to dinner. Annie sat in a big-girl chair, ordered her own food, cleaned up her spot, and helped me keep Jemma entertained as we watched the fountain and the people go by. She is getting so big. And so is Jemma.

I can't believe she's 1 1/2. When she runs, her whole body still swivels side to side and it is a miracle that she doesn't fall down all over the place. She is obsessed with shoes and cups and could spend her whole day trying on shoes and stealing other people's drinks. (I don't know what this says about her college days . . .) She is saying new words every day and tries to repeat almost anything we say to her; she's getting good at: please, thank-you, baby, shoe, truck, more, mommy, dada, boppa (grandpa), hat, waffle, bubbles, book, snack, up, down, help, and so many more.

Tonight after baths, the girls were busy putting all of the dolls to bed - tucking them in with blankets, kissing and hugging them one by one. Jemma was so into it that I asked her to sing the dolls a night-night song. Then Annie and I watched, smiles on our faces and occasionally glancing at each other to confirm that it was, indeed, so darn cute, as Jemma swayed back and forth in front of the doll bed and sort of yodeled a long, drawn-out song to the babies. It was consolation, after a long day, that working this hard is so worth it.

Pink Bargaining Chip

We had dinner at the Kett's last night (yummy chicken enchiladas by Heidi, yummy mojitos by me . . .) with some neighbors. What Annie loved even more than the food was her discovery of a Pink Princess Cell Phone that Jonathan had apparently found and brought home from a park a few days ago. When I got there, mojitos in tow, she came running over:

"Mom!!!! Look what Miss Heidi has at her house! A Princess Phone!!!!!" Big eyes, very excited. You can imagine her glee when, at the end of the evening, Miss Heidi whispered to her that she could bring the princess phone home. We walked back to our house, Annie clutching the phone to her chest and muttering to herself about "crying in a happy way" . . . I am so sure. She had to show it to Jason immediately when he got home last night, then spend most of this morning talking on it, mostly to Miss Kelly, who she told about her day. Towards the end of the morning, she got it taken away because she wouldn't come wash her hands before lunch, and we talked about how she would lose favorite things if she couldn't listen to directions on the first try.

So when we headed to playgroup at Connie's this afternoon, of course her cell phone had to come along. She talked on it the whole way there while Jemma crammed goldfish in her mouth. When we arrived, I made Annie leave it in the car, imagining the drama that would ensue if she were forced to share her phone with others. It was hot and sunny, and the kids had a great time playing in the water park extravaganza Connie had set up in her backyard: sprinkler pool, water table, slide, swings, juice boxes, fruity snacks (the real reason Annie likes to go there). Jemma entertained herself for about 20 minutes, just climbing up and going down the little slide by herself. Annie let Ben give her a hug (even though she is SO not a cuddler), so everyone was happy. Until it was time to go. After I stripped Annie down and changed her back into dry clothes, got Jemma's shoes on, and gathered all my gear, I looked at the lawn to see Annie making a last-minute break for the swingset again.

"Annie!" I yelled, "It is time to go. Right now!" She turned around, looked at me, and started climbing the swingset steps anyway. On step number two, I yelled, "Annie! Princess phone!"

She froze, turned around, ran straight back up the yard and walked to the car. Princess phone, you will get me through this weekend.

Near-Perfect June Day

Morning: coffee, breakfast around the table together, shower before Jason leaves for work. Play outside, walk to the grocery store with the girls in the wagon. Annie gets a "bleeding boo-boo" falling on the sidewalk on our way home, but is immediately placated by her snazzy new princess band-aids.

Afternoon: lunch, girls nap, I clean up and read my book, sprinkler pool and popsicles, happy baby news from Koop.

Evening: feed the girls, walk to the library, ride bikes around the block, baths, bedtime, grill lemon rosemary chicken and zucchini, Colbert Report with Jason, walk to Jersey Junction, sit outside as the sun sets.

Perfect weather, outdoors all day, happy kids . . . the only thing missing is a run, but I somehow did two of those yesterday (?) and I think all the walking makes up for it. This is what summer should be: lots of good, old-fashioned, unscheduled fun and being outside as much as possible.

Weekend Up North

We've returned from our first of a few summer weekends up north at Jason's parent's house. It is a big bonus to have in-laws who live on a gorgeous lake, own a boat, and love to cook for you and take care of your kids. They're not perfect by any means, but it's a great (free) summer getaway, and we do take advantage.

Because we estimate that Jemma must weigh at least 19.59385 pounds by now, we went ahead and turned her carseat around for the drive up on Thursday night. With the DVD player in place blasting The Sound of Music to the backseat while we all ate our Olga's wraps, we hit the road. We were optimistic; we thought, sure, Jemma's hated the car ride before, but we haven't been on a long ride since April and plus, we turned her carseat around!!!! She can see the movie, now! What's not to love?

Apparently, Jemma does not care which direction she is facing in the car. After about 15 minutes, she hates it. Period. So, Jemma cried for the three hours going up, and then she cried for the three hours going down. We gave her all manner of food, drinks, suckers (total mess), toys, songs, blankets, books . . . no luck. I am seriously considering slipping her the tiniest bit of Benadryl on our next trip (when I am solo) and see if we can't calm down just a LITTLE bit for the car rides.

However, once we were there, we had a great time. Fitting the Van Deven family in the house with us was a little tricky (PLG: Carter and Clara slept in their pack and plays in the bathroom and a closet, respectively), but the kids did great and we had fun. We even escaped to Aaron Smith's wedding for a few hours on Saturday morning while Jason's parents watched all the kids (!). It was lovely: outside on the bay, brunch reception, Jason playing a little Beatles on the guitar, time with some long-lost college acquaintances and friends. The rest of the time, the kids loved playing at the waterfront park, playing with tennis balls in the tennis court, going out on the boat, eating cookies in the park, and eating popsicles on the deck. We decided to make it a tradition to rent a house together each summer . . . once our youngest child is 3 or 4 years old. After just two days together, with Jason's parents doing all the cooking, we were exhausted. We're going to save the week-long adventures for a few more years!

Happy Anniversary . . . From My Basement

I had a moment yesterday . . . a moment of clarity, perhaps, or of self-pity, or maybe just really being "in the moment" and realizing how absurd that moment was:



1:30 p.m., in my sketchy cement basement, using an actual pliers to turn the dial of my 20-year-old washing machine because the handle broke off in the morning, wearing a shirt that smelled like puke (because Jemma choked on a Teddy Graham and threw up a little milk and peaches at lunch) and the same yoga pants I'd been wearing since 3:30 the previous afternoon and had been run in TWICE, unshowered (but this goes without saying, doesn't it?), explaining to my sister-in-law's answering machine why HFM disease only SOUNDS horrible and scary, surrounded by more un-washed laundry and boxes upon boxes of "bargains" from Costco.



This, I thought, is what my life has come to. This, on the day Jason and I planned to celebrate our anniversary with a lovely, grown-up dinner. This, I guess, is what marriage looks like 9 years in: a little messier, less pretty than the wedding day by far, but infinitely so much more interesting. It's sort of like Cinderella, but backwards: first, the beautiful white wedding; next, the years of housework and wearing a lot of brown.

And instead of feeling sorry for myself, I (luckily? peversely?) felt OK about the chaos of it all. The laundry, the semi-sick kid, the giant boxes of Goldfish crackers, the need to ready myself for a dinner out . . . it all just means that I have an abundance of kids and food and clothes and family and health (I use the term loosely, this week) in my life. And I'm strong enough, now, that I can take a situation like that, pull things together, and somehow manage to toast our 9th wedding anniversary with a cozy dinner at Louis Benton in clean clothes and makeup, with children sleeping safely at home. Keeping the magic alive, a little bit.

And the Disease of the Month Is . . .

Hand Foot and Mouth Disease!!!!! Yet another, random, third-world-type illness to make its way into the Doublestein house. I swear: I clean my house. My children wash their hands before each and every meal, after they use the bathroom, and after being someplace "germy." They take baths every single night. Yet: ringworm. Stomach flu, two times. Ear infections. Colds with coughs that last three weeks. And now, HFMD. Good grief.

We knew something was up with Annie on Sunday morning. I got up early, hiked it to the grocery store before anyone woke up, and brought home donuts for the fam to eat in bed for a special Father's Day treat. Annie didn't take one bite. Instead, she went to lie down on the couch, saying she was "so tired" - this, at 8:00 a.m. after 12 hours of sleep. When Annie doesn't eat a donut, you know something is very, very wrong. She spent the rest of Sunday on the couch with a fever of 101.something, complaining of a sore throat and mouth, and eating next to nothing.

So yesterday morning, instead of heading to gymnastics, we flailed around the house to make it to the doctor's office before the walk-in hours (7:30 - 8:45) were over. Jemma slept so late that I actually had to wake her up and plop her in her carseat in her jammies, with no shoes, with a dry waffle to eat on the way. PLG. (Bonus: ran into Sarah with the twins there, pulling into the parking lot at the same time. I guess a trip to the pediatrician isn't a total loss when you get to run into good friends and see their cute kids!)

The doctor looked in Annie's throat, swabbed to rule out strep, and made the diagnosis casually, as if this virus doesn't sound like something you would get along with Mad Cow disease. I guess it's super-contagious, especially among kids during summer months (who knew?) and, really, it just involves a sore throat and mouth, diminished appetite, a fever for a couple of days, and sometimes a rash on the hands and feet (we don't have that going here). As viruses go, I'll take it over the stomach flu any day of the week.

So, now that Annie's getting over it but Jemma is likely to get it within a day or two, we're confining ourselves to places where the girls can be strapped into the jogging stroller or the wagon. Yesterday morning, we did a big walk and got groceries. This morning, we hit the zoo (which, in my opinion, is already filthy anyway) and the girls ooooohed and aaaahed at the new lion exhibit, the tiger, the penguins, and the baby goats for a couple hours before having a picnic lunch and making it home in time for naps. This afternoon, I bribed them with snacks so I could do a run with the jogging stroller before making some dinner. HFM disease, you have not stopped us from enjoying our summer. But please, no more third-world illnesses here for a while.

Father's Day 2008

You know those pictures from when you were little, when your dad, with his 70's sideburns, is holding you on the lawnmower or carrying you on his shoulders? And you know how it takes your breath away - he looks so young! It hit me the other day: that's what our girls are going to think, looking through photo albums, about 2008 - and, really, the few years before and after, too. In fact, they might not have any memories at all of this particular summer; I know I don't remember much of anything before preschool when I was four. So I want to tell them that, yes, I guess he is still "young," and full of energy to ride bikes, play lion, and give chase at a moment's notice. He's patient, too, and so kind, generous, and compassionate that it's almost unreal. You girls, you don't know now, but you will: there are so few people with whom your daddy doesn't get along, you could list them on one hand. Everyone loves him (including me) and you are so, so blessed and lucky to have someone this happy doing his best, day in and day out, to raise you and teach you about life. This morning, we all hung out in our bed with coffee, Father's Day cards, and presents - taking a few moments to just BE as a family. I'm so glad to be doing this parenting gig with such an excellent father.