Potty training update

You know how the Magic 8 ball told me this whole potty training thing would be done in a day? That's just one more reason I don't trust the powers of divination (I'll take Harry Potter vocabulary for 200, Alec).

We are still potty training Marianne. Truthfully, it's going well. When Nathaniel pulled the bag out of her diaper pail today, it was remarkably empty! We're not there yet, though. She refuses to use the potty for poo, instead choosing to hide in a corner or under a table and go in her pants. Or when we're really lucky, like a couple nights ago, she'll inexplicably manage to go while jumping on her bed with Ruth looking on, and we'll get to change all the sheets and blankets and hose down both kids right before bedtime. Neither of us was in the room, so we don't know all the details, but my guess is that she stopped jumping long enough to poo.

For the past couple days Marianne has actually been going well over an hour between trips to the potty and initiating those trips herself! This is huge because for the first week of this process we were having to drag her into the bathroom every half hour (or less) to avoid accidents. It makes me a nervous wreck, though, as I'm constantly in fear of potty on the floor so every three minutes I'm asking "do you need to go potty?" in an increasingly frantic voice. Eventually I'll learn to trust that my child knows her bladder better than I, but it's going to take time. Everyone keep your fingers crossed. This may be going great places! Places that involve only one baby worth of diapers in the diaper bag. I can hardly remember what that was like.

Night and day it's "Cinderella!"

Grandma Sherri and Aunt Ellen re-introduced Marianne to a game that I'd been trying to quash from her memory since they taught it to her over the summer... washing the dishes. It sounds so harmless, but picture, if you will, a two and a half year old, perched atop a stool, splashing around in soapy water in a sink full of dishes. Okay, that still doesn't sound all that awful. Not until you envision it in my house, where the other sink is full of horribly dirty stuff that I don't want my daughter touching, let along slinging all over the kitchen, and the counter is covered in more dirty dishes. The fact is, I don't keep my kitchen clean during the day. I clean it at night, so it starts clean in the morning. But midday? Not clean. Add to this vision one slightly neurotic mom who can't stand the thought of water, clean or not, being splashed all over her child and kitchen because it just adds to that mother's clean up. My friends and family all think I'm so "laid back" (really, they say that about me all the time), but it's ALL SHOW, people. Every time Marianne would pull the plastic whisk from the sink, sending a shower of water into the air, I'd say "Keep it over the sink!". And each tupperware bowl she lifted out of the sink, sloshing water on the floor, would elicit a "Watch out! You're spilling!" How can a game possibly be fun for a kid when her mom is getting that freaked out by it? Who knows, but it is. Exhibit A:
Exhibit B:
She played for probably 45 minutes, and I nearly had an ulcer by the end of it. It's just water, and I know that. I must learn to be calm and live up to my reputation.

Phonetic Phun

Marianne (getting ready for story time this evening): An we ead the at inna at?

Nathaniel: Sure. We can read the Cat in the Hat tonight.

*****

Marianne (when I picked her up from daycare this evening): Achary ates me.

Me: He "ate" you? What? (fearing he had bitten her - it wouldn't be the first time)

Marianne: Achary. Ee ates me.

The daycare lady: Oh, honey. Zachary doesn't ate you! I mean, hate you!

*****

There's a lot to be said for having learned this funny language right along with your child. Things will be almost too easy once she starts using consonants reliably. Really, where's the fun in EVERYONE being able to understand the kid?

Nice sweater

This morning I put on a black sweater that I haven't worn in a while and was pleased to be reminded what a nice, simple, versatile piece of clothing it is. It's a darn good thing, too, because it also hit me that I have owned this sweater for about 7 years. I have other clothes that date back much further. I'm amazed every time I realize just how old some of my most often worn clothes are. I've had to mend some things to keep them alive, and others have been relegated to everyday (read: junk) wear instead of their initial purpose as "business casual" attire. Whatever the state of individual items, the bottom line is that a lot of my clothes are old. This most often strikes me when I'm preparing to see a friend from college or even high school and I pull out some favorite item of clothing only to put it right back because it's too embarrassing to be seen now wearing the same clothes I wore when we lived together in the dorm.

I've had this discussion with my mom a few times now, but I'm always amazed by how children change a person. Or even before children, how marriage changes one's priorities. I know that's such a painfully obvious statement that it hardly seems worth making, but maybe if more people really took to heart the way marriage and children should change priorities, the divorce rate would decrease.... but I digress. Back to clothes. I've always (stop laughing, Mom) been reasonably frugal with respect to clothing. I mean, sure I wanted some designer jeans in high school, but even then I wasn't about to spend more than maybe $45 on a pair of jeans. Once I was out of school and on my own, I actually toned down my spending some and started shopping Old Navy for some nice $30 jeans. Then I got married and finances became shared, so I cut back the spending a little further.

A couple years into marriage, I had kids. I always thought it was crazy growing up that my mom NEVER shopped for herself. With the exception of the times when my dad would give me his credit card and tell me to pick out some clothes for my mom for Christmas, she hardly ever bought new things. She always dressed well, but in her same old clothes. Well, those and MY hand-me-downs, because I'd outgrown my mom by midway through high school. But I'll save that whine for some other post. The point is, I didn't understand at the time how a person could go without new things for so long. The minute I had a daughter, though, it all clicked. I shop for my girls all the time. Every time I go to Target, I have to scan the kids' section for sales or cute new things. But I hate shopping for myself. I don't have the time or energy to bother when I have enough decent clothes in my closet to get by. Admittedly I've done a little personal shopping lately, but that's because weight loss left me without a single pair of dress pants that fit, and it's hard to keep a job if you show up without pants. The vast majority of my clothes, both for work and home, have been with me for years. I picked up a friend at the airport a few weeks ago and she remarked "I remember that sweater", because she'd been with me when I bought it almost 10 YEARS AGO! Maybe it's because I was only a few years older then than that sweater is now, but in high school I never dreamt I'd be wearing clothes a decade after purchasing them unless it was for some crazy dress-up event. The most amazing part? It seldom bothers me. I've never been trendy, so the clothes I'm still wearing don't appear hideously out of date (today's sweater is a black 3/4 sleeve v-neck sweater - hard to go wrong). I'll probably wear them till they disintegrate. Plus, there's a little piece of me that's happy to know I can still fit into the clothes I wore in college.

Note to my college girlfriends - next time you see me, if I'm wearing that same blue dress I wore to graduation (you know the one because it's in all the graduation pictures), sorry. But it's a nice dress, and I still love it.

Let's give me something to talk about

I can't think of much to talk about today, but since I didn't have a chance to post yesterday, I'm feeling neglectful. In an effort to provide some workday procrastination to my readers (or laundry procrastination to those of you at home), I made up my own meme. No, I wasn't tagged. I'm just lame enough that I'm going to tag myself and create the topics on my own.

Things I miss most from my life before kids:

- SLEEPING (an obvious choice since I having a throbbing headache today that seems to be the fault of sleep deprivation). In particular, being able to "sleep in" when the term implied something closer to 10am than 7:30am.
- Spontaneous movies. Nathaniel and I used to get inspired by the sight of a movie theater and just pull over and see what was showing right then. Less of an option with two carseats full of babies. Even when they are asleep and likely to stay that way for a while, it's frowned upon to leave them there for a couple hours while we catch a flick.
- Eating out. We still do go out, with or without the kids, occasionally. But from both a financial standpoint and a common-courtesy standpoint, we don't go to the places we did before. And not nearly as often.
- The last bite of my food. You know how (maybe this is just women) you save that perfect last bite of a really great food so that the last taste of it can be the best memory. It has a little bit of all the ingredients and you're really sort of looking forward to it. Now imagine that just before you take that last bite, the cutest two year old you've ever seen climbs into your lap, flashes you an enormous grin, and says "Can I have a bite of yours, Mommy?" {sigh} What choice do you really have?

Things that make it all worthwhile:

- Long goodbyes. "I need one more hug and a kiss, Mommy!"
- Firsts. They're all fun, but some leave an imprint on your mind that you just know (or hope) will make all the future stress worthwhile. Wednesday when I got home from work, Ruth was standing at the rail at the top of the stairs, and when she saw me, she started bouncing herself up and down on her toes and giggling in one of her first really grown up laughs. It was the best reception I could have hoped for. First smiles, laughs, and kisses. First steps, words, and so many other things that you never imagined could impress you. It's what parents live for, without realizing it.
- Cuddles. Whether it's a nursing baby that's 90% asleep, a sick toddler who wants to be held for while when usually she's too active to stop and snuggle, or even a girl in the midst of a tantrum who, at my suggestion, wants to be carried to her room because "I need to be in my bed and calm down", it's a blessing not to be taken for granted.
- Watching them. They're tiny people learning everything from scratch. It's a miracle taking place right before your eyes. It's incredible.

Things I love to eat/drink:

- Donuts (cake in particular, but any kind will do)
- Caramel latte
- Pepperoni pizza
- Coke, on ice, preferably from McDonalds with a side of cheeseburger and fries

Hmm... My first attempt at inventing a meme seems a tad disjointed. Sorry about that. Anyone else wanting to play is welcome (either in the comments section or your own blog with a comment letting me know where to see it), but I won't tag anyone since I just made it up. And I guess you could leave off the third category if you want.

Snowmen, sewing and silliness (a.k.a. A crazy-long post)

We've been receiving snow gradually since the weekend, and yesterday there was finally enough wet snow to build a snowman. Thank heavens my mother-in-law is in town so I didn't have to help! I went out to assist just long enough to deliver assorted winter gear to keep the snowman warm, help heave the heavy middle ball of snow into place, and shoot a few cute photos of the rest of the action.

Here's Marianne helping Grandma Sherri put the finishing touches on her snowman. Marianne named the snowman "Rhonda" after her daycare lady. How sweet.

Marianne: Can I eat him?
Me: No, sweetie. That's dirty snow. Eat some of the clean snow over by the house.

Marianne: I wanna eat him. I'll eat just a tiny little bit more snow...

Thankfully she only ate snow from that one little patch of clean snow she'd just packed onto Rhonda. Grandma Sherri had already commented on the high level of rabbit droppings in the rest of the snowman.

*****

Having a live in chef, maid and nanny has really made my life more leisurely. I'm finally realizing my pool-mom dreams. (Pool-mom: mother who lounges by the pool while the help takes care of normal motherly duties) I've had time to sit on the sofa drinking tea and reading after the girls in are in bed, because the dishes were done practically before I left the dinner table and the toys are all put neatly away by the time I've fed Ruth and put her to bed. I've also had time to finish a sewing project!

A little background: At my friend Ginny's wedding, in which I was the matron-of-honor ("matron" - what a flattering term!), part of the bridesmaid gift was a beautiful purse that Ginny's mother had gotten in Singapore. I loved my purse. It was big enough to hold a diaper and small pack of wipes or a couple baby toys, but small enough to look nice, unlike a diaper bag. It was great for quick trips out with Marianne when she was little. I used that purse to shreds (almost literally, as the fabric began to fray and shred). Then I kept using it. Eventually, though, one our cats decided the bag had been around long enough, so he vomited on it. Since it was already coming apart, I knew it would never survive a wash. I tossed it. But I missed my purse!

Being the super-crafty person I am, I decided to make myself a new version of that purse. I didn't even bother looking for a pattern, because I had the whole thing pictured in my head. I wanted to add some pockets inside, and because I have no clue how to do a zipper on top, I decided to give it a button closure. Here, my friends, is the finished product. Feel free to ooh and aah. I'm pretty darn proud.

I put a magazine underneath to give a frame of reference for size.

You can sort of see the inside of the purse in this shot, though I couldn't come up with a better angle. There's a big zipper pocket down one whole side for, you know, personal items, a small pocket to drop my cell phone in, and a slightly larger pocket that buttons closed because, hey, when I bought the button for the front of the purse it came with a second button!

One more shot of the outside fabric so you can get a better feel for how pretty it really is. I attempted to tweak the weak color in the photo to make it more accurate, but with the shiny material it was a challenge to get right.

Now I just have to tack the lining to the main purse in a couple more places and press out all the seams (especially on the shoulder straps). I should be able to finish that tonight and use my new purse when we go out with some friends this Friday. Hooray!

*****

Potty training is in full swing, though I've lost a lot of faith in my Magic 8 Ball because Marianne was not, as promised, fully trained when I got home from work on Monday. She's doing a good job now of staying dry between trips to the potty, but she's not initiating any of those trips. We have to set a timer and convince her to go every 20 or 30 minutes. No really, that's not tedious for any of us, least of all Marianne. Poor kid.

On a lighter note, though, we read a lot of books and magazines in the bathroom to keep her in there long enough to ensure that anything that needs to come out does. In particular we have our potty training book, Once Upon a Potty. Early in the book it describes the parts of a little girl's body. Marianne can quote it almost word for word now.

Me (reading from the book): She has a head...

Marianne (from memory, since she obviously can't read yet): to think with.

Me: Eyes to...

Marianne: see with.

Me: A mouth...

Marianne: to talk and eat with. And a nose.

Me: Yeah? (they don't mention the nose in the book)

Marianne: to get boogers from.

When the moon is in the Seventh House

We're potty training Marianne in earnest this week. My grandmother (who reads my blog - Hi, Grandma!) is a professional potty trainer. Well, she was a professional daycare lady, and she potty trained me and all the grandkids on that side of the family plus half the little kids in her town. I think that qualifies her as a professional potty trainer. Unfortunately, she's not able to travel out to help us potty train Marianne. She has a system, though, on when to potty train, and she shared that with me. It's not just her system, it's in the almanac. Apparently there's a belief that when the moon aligns in a certain way (Grandma said something on the phone about bowels and feet, but I didn't really follow) it becomes easier to potty train and wean children. I found the almanac link above on the internet. The only problem is that the dates on the website are different from the ones I got from Grandma... But I think it's a range of dates, and I'm still within the range. Okay, I don't put a lot of faith in superstitious stuff like that, but I'll take all the help I can get!

Speaking of help, my MIL is here now, and she found out upon arrival that she's helping to potty train. I think Nathaniel avoided telling her beforehand in case the thought would scare her away from coming. I'm keeping my fingers crossed (what's that about superstition?) that when I get home from work today the potty training will be complete. A girl can dream, can't she? I think I'll check with my magic 8 ball to see how likely it is.

Me: Will Marianne be potty trained when I get home?

Magic 8 Ball (yes, I really have one on my desk at work - long story): It is certain.

Sweet!

The hostess with the mostest

I love entertaining. I know most of my friends and family are rolling their eyes at that statement, because it's hardly a secret. But really, I love it. I get stressed out before people come over, making sure the house is clean enough and the food prepared and everything just generally in order. I think it drives Nathaniel a little crazy since I get, um, a tad bossy just before people arrive and there are loads of last minute things I want done. We have people over quite a bit, though, and I'm glad of it. Sometimes I think the house would never get cleaned otherwise.

Today, I re-discovered a favorite setting for entertaining - brunch. We had some friends over after church, and it was easy and fun... I had prepared everything the night before, so I just had to put the main dish in the oven and add some bananas to the fruit salad, then wait for the guests to arrive.

Afterward, while cleaning up, I saw this on my counter, and it made me smile. Go ahead and laugh. I know it's just clean dishes. But it represented a few things to me and gave me an overall sense of happiness. Here's what I was seeing when I looked at these dishes:
(a) People came. As in a favorable result to the paranoid concern, "What if no one comes to my party?"

(b) People enjoyed themselves. Even if conversation is slow (which was thankfully not the case today) good food puts things at ease, and clean plates imply that the food was good.

(c) Things were pretty. I love setting a nice table. I try to use our china whenever I can because, from a strictly snooty viewpoint, it gives me a little thrill. It's not really expensive or fancy, but it appears elegant and classy and it makes me happy. What can I say - it doesn't take much. Cloth napkins with rings, bread plates, some cut glass serving dishes (the ones in the pictures were my great grandmother's).

That's all it takes to make me feel like I've had a successful party, whether it's a party of four or quite a few more. That may just be the mimosas talking, though.

I'm in love...

...with this dress!

Seriously, it's gorgeous. I mean, the color (they actually call it "sea mist", yet it doesn't gag me on sight) looks not-so-great against this crazy green backdrop of my blog, but trust me that in person it's very pretty. And more importantly, I've discovered that it's VERY flattering on me. An empire waist, slightly flared skirt, v-neck. The "What Not to Wear" ladies would be so proud. (Although they might recommend I cover my flabby upper arms).

On the downside, it's too tight through the chest (darn nursing baby). Oh, and it costs $148. So it's totally out of my league. But so, so pretty. Maybe it's time for me to try out sewing clothing for myself. I've never done more than pajama pants for me in the past, but the dresses I've made for Marianne have turned out great. I might need to have a fall back for that June wedding we're going to, though, since there's no telling how long it would take me to whip together a dress for myself. The purse I've been working on has taken since early January. It's almost done, though! I'll post pictures when I finish.

Rallying the troops

Nathaniel is attempting to finish writing his thesis in time for an early May thesis defense. That means he is swamped with work and finding it a bit of a strain to get any quality time in with the kids, let alone with me. In an effort to ease the burden this puts on my shoulders, Nathaniel called his mom and she's made plans to come out for a week with his youngest sister, Ellen. Some people are probably cringing while reading this. Having the mother-in-law out for a week?! Yikes! Thankfully I don't feel that way. I am SO excited to have the extra hands and extra playmates for Marianne. When Ginny was here last weekend it was so nice - she'd have all the toys in the living room cleaned up by the time Nathaniel and I had the girls in bed. She'd chop the onions for me when we were making dinner (I hate chopping onions). I love having someone around to do the stuff that I don't enjoy, and my mother-in-law is great at that. Heck, when she was out for Marianne's first birthday party, she asked what my least favorite chore was, and then proceeded to actually clean the bathroom for me!

So the MIL and kid sister will be out to assist for the next week, then the following week my folks are coming out. That trip has been planned for a few weeks and I'm very excited about it! We haven't seen them since the holidays and since I love my parents, I'm always looking forward to a visit. A couple weeks ago I told Marianne that mommy's friend Ginny was coming out, and shortly after that, Grammy and Papa would come to visit. Ever since then she's been giddy with excitement about Grammy and Papa coming. When we went to the airport to pick Ginny up, Marianne said, "We'll go get Ginny. And Grammy and Papa!" Then a couple days ago when I told Marianne that Grandma Sherri and Aunt Ellen are coming to visit, she said, "But Grammy and Papa are coming first!" It's not that she's not excited about the other visitors, but we're confusing the heck out of her with all these changes to the guest list for our spare bedroom.

What this all boils down to is that for the next several weeks I have multiple live-in nannies! Hooray! Bummer about the missing husband for all that time, since he'll be working every waking hour on his thesis... But at least he's kind enough to find some back-up help/company for me when he has to bail.

On a different note, Ruth has added "muh muh muh" to her babbling vocabulary. It's not quite mama, but it's better than just "dadadada" all the time.

Where to start...

I have a million things I'd like to post today, and I can't decide where to start and what to save for later. Let me begin with this photo, taken by one of my best friends (and fellow IRISH), Ginny. I think it's a beautiful illustration of motherhood, especially motherhood when there's a stranger in the house:
Ginny is used to a life free of children. Her life involves things like "going to the gym" and "shopping by herself" and "reading". Her husband has a crazy work schedule, so she gets plenty of quality "me time". I've heard of all these things, but have mostly forgotten what they mean. Happily, though, Ginny has three much younger brothers, so she's very good with kids and was an almost instant best friend to Marianne. It was only about 5 minutes after we picked Ginny up at the airport that Marianne said, in a shy voice, from the backseat of the car "Will you sing it with me, Ginny? Sing Twinkle Twinkle." Of course since Marianne is not fond of consonants, it came out something like "Ill ou ing it wif me, Inny? Ing inkle, inkle." so some translation was required.

Below is a list of highlights from our weekend, in no particular order...

- Reading to Marianne. In particular, reading Marianne's Dora book (thanks, Andrea) over and over. At one point, I was reading a story about a grumpy troll who needed to learn how to be polite. Dora and the Troll came upon another friend of theirs and the book asked what the proper way to greet someone was. Marianne responded "What's up, buddy?" rather than the book's more simplistic "Hello/Hola". Later, when the book asked what the troll should say to the ice-cream-eating-dinosaurs (don't ask) to get them off the road, Marianne cheerfully said "Hola!". "Please" would have been too easy.

- Winning over Ruth. It only took about 48 hours for Ruth to warm up enough that Ginny was able to hold her for short periods of time without Ruth having a total melt down. It gives me hope for when my parents come to visit in a couple weeks. Maybe Grammy and Papa will get to hold their grandbaby after all!

- Baking the world's most painfully obnoxious chocolate cake. Okay, the recipe said "world's easiest" but nothing that starts with a need for two 7 inch springform pans, then follows up with two types of uncommon baking chocolate, buttered and floured waxed paper rounds inserted in the pans, and sifted dry ingredients really fits my definition of "easy". It was quite tasty, though. I might make it again. (No, I don't own multiple tiny springform pans - we just used regular round cake pans).

I have so much more I could talk about, but since work has been extremely busy today (how dare they expect me to do work!) this is all I've had time to piece together. I'll wrap up for now by saying that I am truly blessed to have friends like Ginny! We haven't seen each other in over a year and a half, yet we spent more than three straight days without so much as an uncomfortable silence. Not to say that there weren't quiet times (though they were few and far between), just that it's a wonderful, comfortable friendship. On the drive back to the airport to drop her off on Tuesday, I had so many more thing running through my head that I wished we'd had time to talk about... Hopefully it won't be another year and a half before we're able to spend time together again, but if it is, I know it'll be a great time when it happens!

I'm here - just sleepy

Sorry I've been m.i.a. for the past several days. I had a dear friends in town - more on that later. For now, just a quick rant about sleep deprivation issues. For five nights straight now, I've been unable to get more than a few hours of uninterrupted sleep. Part of that is my fault for never going to bed at a decent hour, but most of it is the girls. I have no idea what the deal is, because every night is something different. The first night I think Nathaniel actually startled Ruth awake when he was checking on them... since then there have been a couple bad dreams for Marianne and a couple unexplained Ruth awakenings. I can't cope with this much longer. I'm totally spoiled by my usual 6-7 hours of sleep a night (I know it's not much, but it's a huge improvement over 7 or 8 hours of sleep with an hour gap in the middle). Last night Ruth woke up screaming at 2:45. Marianne was really sweet about staying in bed and making recommendations on how to fix the problem ("sing Baby Mine, Mommy" or "turn on her aquarium, Mommy"), but it was a good hour of work split between Nathaniel and myself before they were both back to bed and quiet. I'm really dragging today. Keep your fingers crossed that tonight will break this frustrating streak.

More entertaining posts soon, I promise. Maybe tomorrow, since I'll be back at work!

So cute I could just cry!

No, I'm not talking about my kids for once. I'm talking about this sweet cardigan that Kris just finished knitting for Marianne. It's awesome! Marianne is going to absolutely LOVE it. It might be too big now, but over-sized is fine for a cardigan, and she and Ruth will be able to fight over it next winter (since Ruth will have caught up to Marianne in size by then at the current growth rates). I can't wait to see it in person. Thank you so much, Kris.

Um, and if you totally want me to cry with joy, a box of Tim Tams in the package would definitely push me over the edge. Wouldn't help my diet issues at all, but you know...

What are you in for?

Marianne is becoming an excellent big sister. She pushes Ruth down when Ruth tries to pull up on Marianne's bed or chair; she hits Ruth on the side of the head when Ruth inadvertently takes a toy Marianne was considering playing with later that day; she steals any object that makes Ruth laugh from Ruth's tiny fingers, while repeating "Swiper, no swiping" straight from her Dora book (we don't have cable, you know, so it's all about Dora books for us!) without noticing the irony. On the same day, though, she'll give Ruth the sweetest hug in the world, offer Ruth the last bite of her cookie and color a page of her Care Bears coloring book just for Ruth. So sure, we have a way to go the aggressive stuff, but she really isn't all bad.

We've been using time-outs for Marianne for a long time now, because she has been an aggressive kid from a very young age. I picked up a time-out twist from my neighbor that is very simple, but has taught me how far we have to go as parents. We always tell her why she's being put into time-out, but is it clicking? The other day I saw my neighbor put her kid in time-out, and at the end she said, "Why were you in time-out?". The child responded with part of the reason, she explained the rest, and then he was free to go on his merry way. For the past week I've been using this question with Marianne. Here are a few of Marianne's responses to the question, "why were you in time-out":

Having pushed Ruth over when Ruth tried to pick up one of her toys: Because Ruthie was playing with my toys.

Having repeatedly stolen toys from Ruth's hands and eventually pinched Ruth in an effort to make her stop picking up toys: Because I was playing with my toys.

Having ignored me when I asked her repeatedly not to eat Ruth's food and stuffed a handful of the food in question into her mouth when I approached to take it away: Because Ruthie was playing with my toys.

Huh? No, that wasn't a typo on my part. That was her answer. I see we still have some work to do.

While we're on the subject of Sesame Street

I don't hate Elmo, really. That may have been a little unclear in my previous post. I used to hate Elmo, when I just heard about other peoples' kids' obsession with him, and had to see all the obnoxious tickle-mes and hokey-pokeys and chicken-dances in the stores. Now, though, I don't totally cringe when I have to sit through Elmo's World, because I see how entertained Marianne is. On Tuesday she was jumping right along with the kids on TV as they learned about pogo sticks and she sang the "song about jumping" (to the tune of Jingle Bells, of course) at the end of the segment. Thankfully, though, she doesn't have the sick obsession that so many kids do. She's more into "finding Ernie" all over the house. We'll be in the middle of some other activity, when suddenly she'll tilt her head like she's listening to something.

Marianne: He's crying!

Me: Who's crying?

Marianne: Ernie. I need to find him. He's in the kitchen.

Me: oooookaaaay.... (following her into the kitchen)

Marianne: HERE he is!

Then she'll pretend to pick up some tiny, Polly Pocket sized imaginary Ernie and carry him around in the palm of her hand soothing his crying. Usually she follows this by "finding" Big Bird, too. Well, I thought she was finding Big Bird until this morning when I got out a Bert and Ernie cereal bowl for her breakfast.

Marianne: Look, Mommy! It's Ernie and Big Bird!

Me: No, sweetie. It's Ernie and BERT.

Marianne: Right, BIG Bert.

I love the aha! moments. For a couple weeks I've thought she really loved Big Bird as well as Ernie, but she's just into my two least favorite Sesame Street characters, Big Bert and Ernie. Great.

Me, myself and I

See those words, kids? Those are pronouns! Learn how to use them. Please.

Nathaniel would complain (and does) that grammar is deteriorating every year, and the lack of pronouns in children's vocabulary is a pet peeve of mine. Yesterday it hit me where part of this pronoun issue arose. Have you noticed that kids are getting older and older these days still referring to themselves in the third person?

Imaginary character, Susie: Mommy, Susie needs to go potty.

Imaginary character, David: Throw the ball to David!

It's good to teach kids their names, but if you don't start teaching them how to use good grammar at an early age, I think it makes it harder later in life. And Elmo is a huge culprit here. I hear the laughter. For those of you without kids, you're thinking, "What? The fuzzy red guy on Sesame Street? How bad can he really be?!" and for those of you with kids you're thinking, "What? You JUST figured that out?". Maybe it shows that I don't pay much attention to the TV shows my kids are watching, but when it's Sesame Street, I don't feel like I need to. Yesterday, though, I had a few minutes of downtime to actually sit with Marianne and watch the "Elmo's World" portion of the show. "Elmo wonders who's at the door"; "Elmo wants to learn more"; "Elmo blah blah blah..." without so much as a pronoun for good measure.

I'm not saying this to try and brag, but Marianne has better use of pronouns than most kids a couple years older than her. We taught her her name, then as soon as she had it mastered, we switched to teaching her the appropriate pronouns for situations. She still gets her "me"s and "I"s mixed up some, but we correct her and move on, and she's great at picking it up. It probably helped that when she first learned her own name she basically called herself "may-may" which was similar enough to "me" to make it an easy transition. Maybe we'll find it much more difficult with Ruth. But that aside, grammar in general is something you need to start teaching young. Too many people baby-talk their kids for years. Nathaniel maybe takes it a step too far by correcting Marianne when she says she's going to "lay down". ("It's lie down, Marianne"), but then, maybe not. I mean, I still get that particular structure wrong all the time (he corrects me too), but maybe I wouldn't if I'd had the correction from a very young age.

I'm not talking about going totally over the top or anything. Obviously we wouldn't punish a two year old for poor grammar. But using good grammar around her and making gentle corrections when she's talking is the only way for her to learn right now. It's too bad Sesame Street can't try a little harder with their most popular character. I know they're relying on kids recognizing the name "Elmo" to sell products, but it's a shame they can't be a tad more educational along the way. Yesterday Marianne learned a lot about jumping (that was the theme of "Elmo's World") and she learned to refer to herself in third person a little more often.

Hands-free!

For the first time last Thursday I was able to take a walk with the girls during which I was neither holding a baby nor pushing a baby. It was refreshing. Sure, it was just around our cul-du-sac, since I didn't want to push Marianne too hard her first time pulling the wagon with cargo, but it was great! We went for a walk on Saturday with the wagon again, and went even further. If she gets tired, she climbs in and I pull, but that's no worse than pushing a stroller would be, so I'll take it. I was a little worried about Ruth's ability to stay upright and to refrain from climbing over the sides, but she was a superstar. This may be our new standard way of taking walks when I'm not in a rush (because no matter how good she is at pulling the wagon, a two-year old doesn't get anywhere quickly when left to her own devices).

Sleeping like a baby

I attempted to get photo illustrations for this post, but due to the red curtains in the girls' bedroom, they all came out really creepy looking, so I gave up.

I'm sure every baby sleeps in her own way. Lately I've been struck by how different my girls are in so many ways, and in the way they sleep especially. Thankfully, both are wonderful sleepers both at night and at naps, but that's where the similarity ends.

Marianne is a wild sleeper, as evidenced by the rat's nest in her hair each morning. She moves constantly while sleeping. Often it's big motions that fling the blankets from her bed and require us to check in multiple times on cold nights to cover her. She'll have a leg and an arm hanging off the side of the bed, or blankets off everywhere but for the two she's pulled over her head. Even when she's at her most calm, though, she's moving. She has her "blankie" she sleeps with every night, and often she'll have it clutched in her hands with her tiny fingers rubbing it or weaving in and out of it. It's truly disconcerting when I try to slip quietly into their room to check on them, or if I have to sneak in and grab something in preparation for daycare the next day, to see her moving that way. I'm frequently stopped in my tracks, like a thief in a movie, one foot still hovering in the air for fear that the movement will trigger an alarm, because I think she's awake and about to see me and want to get out of bed... only to realize that she's out cold but fidgeting. Other times I can see her little mouth moving as though she's talking in her dreams. I look forward to some crazy stories about this girl walking and talking in her sleep when she gets older. My parents have those stories about me, so she comes by it honestly.

Ruth, on the other hand, sleeps like a rock. I mean literally, like a little round stone of some sort. She's always on her stomach (since she was a couple months old and we discovered the whole family could sleep for more than 3 hours at a time if we let her lie on her tummy, and we had a debate about the risk of SIDS) and she balls herself up with her knees pulled up under her bottom, and her hands shoved down under her tummy, cheek to the mattress. She loves her blankets and you couldn't pry them away from her at night. The minute I stop nursing her, she grabs the nearest fabric (a blanket if it's available, or my shirt if that's the only option) and starts chewing on it. When I lay her in the crib, she grabs a blanket, puts it into her mouth, then tucks her arms under her. I keep an extra blanket in the crib now for just that purpose, so I still have two that are free to cover her. She'll often sleep most of the night without moving at all. When she does move, though, she has the amazing gift of being able to take her blankets with her. I don't honestly know how she does it. She'll inch-worm herself across the crib, but still have both blankets covering her from chin to toes. It's a beautiful thing - she's so easy to keep warm!

The times when I have a minute to stop and watch my babies sleep are truly some of the most grace-filled moments of my life. Partly because it's a quiet moment in my hectic life, but mostly because it's a chance for me to see the beauty of the children with which God has blessed Nathaniel and me. Whether they're squirming in their sleep or snoring like their daddy, they're my little angels and it makes my heart want to explode with love.

Letter of dismissal

Dear Horsey,

I'm am writing to inform you that your services will no longer be needed at bedtimes. You have been a wonderful companion for the past 14 months, however with Brown Bear and Pink Bear taking up half the bed, I've decided to terminate our relationship. I would be more than happy to write a letter of recommendation for you should you be interested in applying for a similar position with my little sister. In fact, I will from this point forward attempt to throw you into her crib at bedtime so she will see how nice you really are. However please keep in mind that I reserve the right to change my mind, steal you from her hands, and claim you as my favoritest of toys should my little sister actually express an interest in you.

Thanks for all the happy dreams!

Sincerely,
Marianne