Snow. Again.

It's snowing again today. We have easily three or four inches, probably more. I'm a terrible judge of the depth of snow. Nathaniel is flying home this afternoon from a meeting in Baltimore, and I'm keeping my fingers crossed that the snow doesn't hinder his arrival, because I'm flying out tomorrow morning to LA for a meeting of my own. I'm not sure how we'd swing that if he couldn't get home.

March is traditionally the snowiest month in Colorado, so I shouldn't be that put out about a little snow as March begins. After all, if comes in like a lion, that bodes well for the end of the month, right? Still, I'm not happy about more snow; I feel like we've had our share. Thankfully, we've also had a few typical Colorado warm spells (warm meaning 50s and 60s in the winter). Just this Monday the girls had a playdate that included a wagon trip to the park with their friend Morgan. Here are some of my favorite pictures from that adventure:



When I was a baby, my family lived in Florida briefly. My sister is a couple years older than me, and my parents had some friends with a little girl almost the same age as her. There are pages and pages of pictures in our photo albums from that time of Marci with her friend Kara including, if I'm remembering it correctly, some of them at a park together. I couldn't help but think of that while watching Marianne and Morgan playing together. We got Christmas cards from Kara's family, and I remember getting a graduation announcement with her senior picture in it. But we only saw them once or twice when I was growing up. It makes me sad now, to see Marianne with all her friends here and wonder how much, if ever, she'll get to see them once we move. She's young, she'll have more friends during her life than I can keep track of. But these are her first friends. I hope we can see them from time to time, so they can continue to know them as more than a photo in a Christmas card.

*****

I can't wrap up for today without an update on the dress. Marianne's is done but for the hem. The zipper is not exactly, um, WELL done. But it is done. And she has long hair, so I don't think anyone will notice where the neckline doesn't quite line up in back...

Dancing with one of her tiny stuffed bears, because no kid could resist spinning in circles with a skirt like this one:

I need to remake the sash. The pattern, I realized after buying it with my grand plans for the bow in back, included a sash that's sown on the side seams so comes only halfway around. I want both the bow in back and the thick sash across the front, not a half-sash. It's not complicated for me to make a full sash instead, but I totally misjudged the size when I made it last night. As it happens, though, I have more than enough fabric left, so it won't be a problem to make a newer, longer one. You can see the too-short version in the pictures, knotted in back.

Marianne's reaction as I put the dress on her this morning: "Look, Ruth! I'm a princess!" followed by "Mommy, can I wear this dress ALWAYS?!" That makes the late night fighting with the zipper worth it, without a doubt.

(A note to anyone interested - the pattern also called for a layer of netting between the lining and the skirt, to floof it out, but I'm skipping that and going for something flowier. I think it's going to be fine without.)

Easter preview

I have too much free time. Or at least that's the impression you'd have if you'd seen me at JoAnne's Fabric on Saturday. I went to get a pattern and fabric for some simple summer tank dresses for Marianne, Ruth and Elizabeth, and in the end I came away with those as well as a pattern and fabric for Easter dresses for all three girls. The woman at the cutting counter seemed reasonably impressed by the quantity of dresses I intended to make in only a few weeks. I have no real confidence that I'll complete it all in time, but I was inspired to make the girls fancier dresses because we just decided at the end of last week that Marianne, Ruth and I are going to accompany Nathaniel to the wedding of his college roommate, DB, in a few weeks. I figured I'd spend my hours and hours of free time (ha!) between now and then whipping up some dresses for the girls. While I'm at it, I might as well make them suitable for Easter dresses. And if I'm making two of them, I might as well make one more for Elizabeth so they can all have similar little dresses for Easter, right? Seems reasonable. We'll see.

The pattern is pretty simple (see, it says "easy" right on the package). I'm making a dress like the one the girls in the photo are wearing, except with prettier fabric (don't get me wrong - reversed color polka dots... lovely) and I'm going to put the bow in back. I fear a bow like that in front would completely overwhelm Ruth. She'd spend all day falling over, not that that's unusual. Plus, well, the bow in front is silly looking.

I spent 45 minutes standing in front of the walls and racks of calico trying to choose pretty fabrics both for these dresses and the tank dresses. I haven't the foggiest idea if you're supposed to use calico for dresses, but they said 100% cotton and cotton was a recommended fabric for the pattern, so I figured they'd serve. Here's what I ended up with:
The purple will be for Ruth, the red for Elizabeth and the pink for Marianne. The pattern will be the main dress; the solid will be the lining and sash.

When I began thinking about this post on Sunday, that was all the information I expected I'd be able to give. But then I started working on Marianne's dress... as it turns out, I can offer you much more! Here's a shot of Marianne's dress in the works:
I know! It's a little girl dress! Okay, it's no where near complete. It needs the sash made, some finishing on the shoulders, about 6 inches hemmed up on the bottom, and of course the not-so-small issue of a zipper. There are a couple little puckers in the waist seam, but they're minor and the sash should cover them, so after a couple minutes of debating with myself whether I could rip out and re-stitch just those little sections, I decided to leave them as is. There's the potential I could have this finished in another day or two. I may actually manage to make dresses for all of the girls. I'm not promising anything yet, but this is going well. I tried out Pattern Ease for the first time at Kate's recommendation, and it's amazing! It cuts and pins so much better than the nasty flimsy pattern paper, and I have a the pattern still all in one piece so I can use it now for the other two dresses with no problem. Very cool. I love how this dress is turning out. I can't wait to try it on Marianne this evening to check the size.

Visitor in the night

I woke around 2:30am last night with someone lying on my arm. It didn't seem strange at first, that one of my babies was in the bed. I shifted a little to take the pressure off my arm; she shifted in her sleep in response. As my mind began functioning, though, it struck me that I had no recollection of bringing a child to bed. I thought I'd heard Ruth cry once, shortly after I went to bed. It was possible Nathaniel had brought her in if she hadn't fallen back asleep easily. But this kid was the outside of the bed, and that's not standard procedure since she could easily roll out of the bed. For that matter, bringing one of the girls in without waking me to let me know (or without my waking from the commotion) is hardly standard procedure.

I leaned toward Nathaniel and half-whispered, "Did you bring a baby to bed?" He didn't stir, but the baby did. She snuggled up against me and the amount of hair on my cheek made it clear that it was Marianne. I could just begin to make out her shape in the darkness. I slipped my other arm under her and said, "It's time to go back to your bed, baby." She opened her eyes and nodded. I scooped her up and she wrapped her arms around my neck and her legs around my waist. I could just see her reflection in the mirror on our closet door; she looked so big, with her long limbs circling me, yet so little, in her striped footy-sleeper, head on my shoulder in that baby-pose of complete relaxation and trust. I tucked her back into her bed, with no complaint or fuss on her part, kissed her forehead, and went back to my own bed. I woke Nathaniel enough to ask if he'd brought her in, but her open bedroom door had been the only evidence I really needed to convince me she'd come on her own.

This morning I asked her if she remembered coming in to bed with me. She said she did; that she'd lost her "Dora star" and was sad. I asked whether it had been a dream. She paused for a second then said, "Of course! We don't have any Dora stars!" and she cracked up laughing like it was the best joke she'd ever made. I asked if she'd woken me up, and she said "no" but couldn't really explain to me why not. I don't know how long she'd been sleeping there, but her bed had been cold when I returned her to it.

I'm not saying that I want this to become a routine, but there's something so sweet and innocent and lovely about the experience that I can't quite put it into words.

Ash Wednesday

Wow. I just attended the Ash Wednesday mass at a beautiful, enormous old church downtown. I've been there for weekday masses a few times, and there've been just a spattering of people in the pews. I was completely taken aback when I walked in about five minutes before mass today and was barely able to squeeze into a pew! By the time mass began, it was standing room only, and the walls were lined with worshippers.

Living in Denver (and especially to the northwest of Denver) it can be very hard to feel like there's much of a community of faith. Politically and socially, it's easy to feel like a severe minority when you're a church-going, conservative Christian. I was in a book club for about a year before the kids made it hard to find time to read, let alone attend evening dinner parties. I was invited by a friend and fellow ND alum, but most of the women in the group were strangers to me. At almost every meeting I was amazed by how like-minded they assumed every one in the group to be. If my friend or I mentioned a belief in God, let alone some teaching of the church, they laughed as though they knew we couldn't be serious, and then moved on to other, less far-fetched ideas. I'm not trying to imply that everyone out here thinks or acts that way, but I am saying that it can be a challenge to find people who share my faith. Mass today was a wonderful reminder that those people do exist, and that they're all around me, whether or not I realize it. It was comforting and inspiring.

Also, the priest gave a very down to earth homily that struck a chord with me. So all around, good mass experience.

So there

Here's a little tip for my dermatologist and everyone else who's given me a hard time over the years about my choice for family planning... It's as effective as any other method.

It may never be mainstream, but maybe with new scientific proof, doctors will actually start mentioning it as a legitimate option instead of chuckling about it while discussing the "real" (a.k.a. prescription) choices. Or perhaps it will show up on the charts in the exam rooms that list "all" of the options for birth control. Probably not, though, since I'm sure the charts are provided by pharmaceutical companies who would be very sad if a drug-free form of birth control became popular.

I'll jump off my soap box before I get too worked up.

Tentative plans beat no plans at all

The weekend did not arrive as smoothly as I had hoped on Friday when I last posted. However, after a series of weather related road closures and avalanche warnings, we managed to spend a portion of the weekend at a beautiful condo in the mountains. We were surrounded by friends and there was so much food it's almost nauseating to think back on - a sure sign of good times. Thanks to Fred for loaning us his place!

While we were away, three people came to view the house, and two more came on Sunday afternoon once we were home (forcing a quick fieldtrip to McDonald's for ice cream cones, as the girls were too tired and fussy to do anything more interesting).

The roadtrip over the weekend gave us ample time to discuss our upcoming move and possible timelines for finishing our current jobs, buying a house, moving, starting new jobs, etc. I could talk about this stuff day and night, but Nathaniel has very little patience for my rambling speculations about what could happen and what might happen and, of course, what I think should happen. I, on the other hand, need to do that sort of speculating to help me wrap my arms around the whole picture and set my mind at ease about the future. To help me see that, despite the uncertainty of when our house will sell, we have options for how to move forward, and they get us to the desired end result. This weekend I won. We were stuck in a car for nearly three hours, cruising along at 3 miles per hour some of the time, and 70 miles per hour other times. I'm sure I talked Nathaniel's ear off. The outcome, though, is I can now tell my boss when my last day at work will be. I know when we'll make our next trip to Nebraska with the intention of making an offer on a house, should a good one present itself. I'm breathing so much easier now. Even if these events don't come to pass precisely when I'm now planning for them, just having a plan makes all the difference.

On the other hand, having all these new dates for our upcoming plans is causing a mild panic attack about how little time we left to hang out with our amazing friends here in Colorado! For those of you who live nearby, don't be surprised if you get a call from us soon asking what evening we should come over. That's right - we're inviting ourselves over. We'll bring drinks, and even food, but we don't want to spill on our new carpet. You understand.

...

I noticed this morning that I use that device, "...", at the end of almost every sentence in personal emails and instant message conversations these days. If it's a written email (or this blog) I tend to go back and edit most of them out. It was an instant message chat with a work colleague of mine this morning that caught my eye. She knows about my situation and is in the process of trying to plan one last meeting for our team in LA before I go. She was double checking my availability for some dates in case we have to postpone into mid-March and every single line I sent to her ended with "...". Toward the end of the conversation I asked if she'd noticed. She had. I said it struck me that that's exactly how my life feels these days. I have so may open-ended things going on that I feel like I can't put a period on the end of anything I say or do. It's all pending some other event that's out of my control. I'm a control freak in general, but I think I'm handling this with a fair amount of grace. Still, I'd love to know what's coming for us in the next six or eight weeks...

*****

Despite my sentimental, touchy-feely post yesterday, it was a LONG day. Ruth spilled her milk at least six times between breakfast, snacks and lunch (she had a closed cup at dinner). The girls intentionally flooded the bathroom during their bath by pouring water over the edge with their assortment of cups and watering cans that are considered "bath toys". Marianne followed up by splashing water all over the bathroom cabinets, walls and floor while "washing her hands" later in the day. I felt like I spent the majority of the day mopping up one thing or another. Add to that finding them playing ring-around-the-rosy ON our dining room table, and it was a "Mommy needs a minute to herself" kind of day. Of course then, during my "minute", Marianne managed to injure herself, so it was more of a half-minute.

In re-reading that, you're probably wondering whether I supervise my children at all during the day. I do. I swear. But I step out of the bathroom for a minute to clean up the lunch dishes while they're playing in the tub, and I come back to a quarter inch of water all over the floor. I take some clean laundry into their room put it away while they're having a snack, and come back to find them both standing on the table. It was a heck of a day, all around. I was beat by the end of it all.

In the midst of the chaos I did manage to get the family packed for our third straight weekend away from home. It wasn't our intention to be away every weekend the house is on the market, but it's worked out beautifully this way. This weekend we're going to a friend's condo in the mountains with two other couples and their daughters. The verdict is still out on whether it will truly be "relaxing", since, unlike in a hotel, we can't totally let the kids trash the place. The stuff all belongs to someone we know, and we'll have to clean up at the end of the weekend. Still, I'm looking forward to it. If nothing else, there will be good food, adult conversation and plenty of distraction for the girls. I checked out a Zadie Smith novel (how could I NOT after the number of recommendations I got both in comments and by email) and I'm ready to go. As soon as I get past this pesky work day.

Age gap

"How far apart are your daughters?"

"19 months"

"Ooooh. I see." with the knowing smile and the "accidents happen" smirk.

I can't tell you how old that gets. And how tired I got, when I was pregnant with Ruth, of explaining to people that, truly, we'd chosen to have two children this close together in age. Nathaniel reminded me often enough that it didn't matter what others believed and we shouldn't be defensive about it. We'd have been just as happy about having another a child whether we'd planned to do so or not. Fighting the good fight of convincing others that this new baby was intentional was futile. People will think what they want to think, and when you're a "good" Catholic couple about to have your second baby in less than two years, it's easy to guess what they'll think.

But now. Now I know that all of that was, without a doubt, worth it. Marianne and Ruth are 19 months apart and I get comments almost daily from friends and strangers alike who are amazed by how close the girls are, by what good friends they are, by how much they love on each other, and by how well they play together. I'm not saying it would necessarily have been different if we'd waited another four or six months to have Ruth. That would have long enough to stop the knowing glances at my very pregnant tummy. (Because two years - that's a respectable age gap, whereas a year and a half is clearly an accident.) But I love the age gap we have now. Marianne teaches Ruth new things constantly.

Marianne (holding up two cups while they set the table for dinner): Ruth, do you want the blue cup, or the yellow cup?
Ruth: Bwue.
Marianne (obviously unhappy with Ruth's choice, because she prefers blue to yellow): You want the yellow one? Okay, here."

See. That's a lesson in colors and in, um, negotiation...

Yes, they fight. Have there ever been two sisters that didn't fight?! Surely not. But most days they are a joy to watch together. One minute they're putting all of their stuffed animals to bed on top of one of their blankies and under the other. The next minute Marianne is using her extra inch and a half of height to sneak candy off the kitchen counter for her and Ruth to share. The next they're screaming because someone stole someone else's book, but within seconds (after someone goes to time out) they're knocking each other over with hugs and "sorry"s. They are a team and they have an amazing gift in having each other. I wouldn't take that away from them for the world, and certainly not to have spared myself a few pointed looks from strangers.

Happy Valentine's Day

Yesterday I took the girls to Target and they picked out boxes of Valentines to give to the kids at daycare. It was a moment of realization for me when they pointed at cartoon characters I'd never heard of and named them. (Marianne: "Those are the Backyardigans. They live in the backyardigan. I only know Pablo's name." Huh? I know they watch some tv at their daycare, but I can't say for sure how much. I got a knowing smile from another mother in the aisle as I stared in disbelief at their pop culture knowledge.) In the end, Marianne picked Disney Princesses and Ruth chose Dora. No big surprises there. We filled them with starbursts and skittles, which I realized too late had somewhat questionable messages printed on them for three year olds to be handing out, and packed them up for daycare delivery. They were both extremely enthusiastic about picking out a particular card for each of their little friends (the enthusiasm was assisted by skittles consumption, I'm sure) and I got to teach a nice life lesson about how you have to give a valentine to Zachary even though sometimes he's mean to you because otherwise you'll hurt his feelings.

This morning I walked into Marianne's room, where she was lying in bed still in the process of waking up and I said, "Happy Valentine's Day!" Her eyes lit up and she pushed herself to sitting and cheered, "Happy Valentine's Day to you, TOO!" Then she ran out of the room to check on her cards so that she wouldn't forget to take them with her. It's fun to see her start to get excited about holidays, even if it's a fairly minor holiday like this one.

I'm not generally a big Valentine's Day person. I like flowers and gifts as much as the next girl, but Nathaniel and I stopped doing gifts for Valentine's several years ago. This year I wasn't expecting a thing. Nathaniel has a Knights of Columbus meeting at church tonight (it seems all the old guys that make up the majority of the club saw no problem with a meeting on the night of Valentine's Day, so they opted not to change the date from their standard second Wednesday of the month), so my big plans involved making burritos around 6:00 so he could get out of the house by 6:45 or so and then putting the girls to bed on my own. That's still the plan for the evening, but my day took a definite turn for the good when a friend of mine at work talked me into going to lunch with her. When we left the building, Nathaniel was standing outside waiting for me. My friend bowed out and headed back in and I took a nice long lunch with my husband who works 40 miles from my office and who I never see during a workday. It was a great time (brie and roasted garlic and empanadas and all - yum!) and made the day a hundred times more fun that it would otherwise have been. After lunch Nathaniel came back to see my office (he's only been here once in the seven and half years I've been with my company and I've moved offices since that time) and having him here brightened up the whole building for me. Hooray for Valentine's Day! This year, I'm definitely a fan. I can't stop smiling this afternoon and I haven't gotten a lick of work done since he left, but I'm okay with that.

Here's wishing you a happy Valentine's Day of your own. Or, as one of the Disney Princess cards - with a picture of Belle and her horse - said, "Ride with the wind, Valentine!"

Your guess is as good as mine.

Everything you ever needed to know about me (meme)

My last post felt a little like a meme, but now you get the real thing. I was tagged by Whitney. If you haven't noticed the link that showed up on my "Killing Time" list a couple weeks ago, you should take a peek at her site. Whitney is a friend of my oft-mentioned college girlfriend, personal shopper, general advice giver and frequent blog commenter, Ginny. It's likely that Whitney and I met at Ginny's wedding, but I was six months pregnant and fairly distracted by how awkward I looked in my reworked-to-cover-my-enormous-stomach bridesmaid dress, so I can't be sure. I digress. Whitney is also, and perhaps more importantly where her blog is concerned, a mother to triplets. She posts adorable pictures and stories of her miniature entourage. I can't imagine how she finds the time, but I love checking it out so I'm glad she does. On to the meme...

A--Available, Married or Single: Married
B--Best friend: my husband and friend, Nathaniel
C--Cake or Pie: Cake! Please! Donuts are cake. At least the good ones are.
D--Drink of Choice: Coke, with or without Captain, or a margarita. Or coffee.
E--Essential item you use everyday: Lip gloss (Neutrogena Moistureshine). Pretty, and it keeps me from chewing on my lip.
F--Favorite Color: I don't think I have one, but Marianne will tell you it's blue so I must have told her that at some point. So blue it is!
G--Gummy bears or worms: My best friend can have them both. Give me some more cake.
H--Hometown: Born in Homestead, Florida, but I claim the small town in Kansas where I lived 7th-12th grades plus some summers during college.
I--Indulgence: 10 more minutes reading my book in the car in a parking lot on the way to the girls' daycare if I happen to catch the earlier bus home.
J--January or February: February. January is too frustrating catching up after the holidays.
K--Kids and names: Marianne Elizabeth and Ruth Lauren
L--Life is incomplete without: My husband and my girls.
M--Marriage Date: July 15, 2000
N--Number of siblings: One sister.
O--Oranges or apples: Bananas, grapes, berries... Maybe clementines if I had to pick, but oranges and apples are both low on my list.
P--Phobias or fears: Swimming in water I can't see through. Rainbow trout could bite my toes.
Q--Fave quote: I'm not good with remembering quotes...
R--Reason to smile: Smiles from my girls.
S--Season: Autumn
T--Tag 3 people: Play if you want. I won't call you out.
U--Unknown fact about me: I was in the Nelson* fan club. I also wrote a fan letter once to JC when he was on the Mickey Mouse Club.
V--Vegetable you don't like: "Greens" in the southern sense - steamed spinach, chard, etc.
W--Worst habit: Rambling... talking, emailing, blogging, whatever.
X--Xrays: dental
Y--Your fave food: Anything cakey, or coke, or lattes, or McDonalds... too many choices to nail one thing down. Okay, fine. Donuts.
Z--Zodiac sign: Taurus

*The Nelson website just blew my mind. They're still touring! I have to go on a cruise sometime that they're playing. That's totally my dream now.

The good and the bad

I could get all sappy in talking about the reasons I'm excited for our upcoming move, and the reasons I'm sad to be leaving our home in Colorado... but our trip to Nebraska this past weekend served to remind me of several of the more frivolous pros and cons about the upcoming move. I choose today to focus on those, and to save the drama of the move for another time. With that in mind I present:


Five Reasons I can't wait to leave Colorado
1. Cracked fingers and lips. Folks, it's dry out here. You might even call it "arid". For the past several winters I have suffered from cracked fingertips due to nothing but the cold dry weather. With this winter's freakishly cold spell, it's worse than ever. Super glue lives in our medicine cabinet as one of our most coveted "medicines". A drop on the cut and, with luck, it heals up in a few days' time. Without luck, it re-cracks, starts bleeding, I repeat the process and eventually the underside of my fingernail is filled with super glue. Lovely. I know.

2. Curly hair. Again, the dryness. I have naturally curly hair and I, for one, like humidity for the part if plays in that. Out here my hair is naturally curly post-shower, naturally wavy by noon, and naturally lame by the end of the day. I need a little moisture to keep my curls bouncing.

3. The city. Yes, yes. There are things I like about the city. The fact remains, though, I spent most of my formative years in small towns, and I liked it. I don't want to live in a town of 2500 again, but I like the idea of a "city" where "rush hour" is a total joke and it only takes 10 minutes to be in fully rural farmland. It's a homecoming, of sorts. I look forward to raising my kids in a more rural environment.

4. High altitude baking. I gave up on homemade angel food cake years ago, and I've accepted that my cookies will forever be flat. I even understand now that I have to cover my bubble-bread with foil so I can bake it an extra 10 minutes or it's guaranteed to be doughy in the middle (thanks to Randy and Jenni for expressing their love of doughiness and eating it anyway the first time I tried and failed). Knowing how to work with it doesn't mean I like it. Not a bit.

5. My job. No surprise there, if you've been paying attention. It's as good a job as I could hope for, with great benefits and flexibility, but I can't wait to quit.


5 Reasons I can't wait to get to Nebraska
1. Curly hair. (See above.) Even on our most recent winter trip to Nebraska I noticed a marked improvement. I hardly needed any styling products. I love that!

2. Lightning bugs. Of course we didn't see any this weekend. They did, however, come up in conversation and I was struck with the fact that my girls haven't really seen lightning bugs because they don't exist in Colorado. I look forward to introducing them to the little guys. And then, maybe, showing them how you can pull the "light" off the bug and use it to decorate things. You know, if you're feeling inhumane.

3. Family. As noted, I'm ignoring the deeper issues here (living closer so my girls can grow up around family and know them better). In this case, I'm referring to family to sit with during church so someone else can distract my children while I pray. Refreshing, to say the least. Not that I got to enjoy much of that last weekend, but I saw Renee taking advantage of it, and I'm all for building toward the goal.

4. Gloria Deo. It's a Catholic bookstore and it's awesome. Unlike the one nearest our house in Colorado, the employees of this one don't give me dirty looks for bringing a child into their store. I could go on but in the name of charity I'll avoid making more rude comments about our local Catholic bookstore. (This could become a much deeper discussion of the pleasure of living somewhere where your faith and values are shared by the majority of the population, but again, I'll save that for another day).

5. Thunderstorms. I can hardly remember the last really amazing lightning and thunder storm I witnessed. For whatever meteorological reason (something about the mountains, I'm sure, and the humidity and yada yada yada), we just don't get huge impressive thunderstorms in Colorado. I hope they don't terrify my children, because I love them.


(In an effort at fairness, there are a lot of reasons that this move isn't exactly ideal... so here are a few of those.)

5 Reasons I dread this move
1. Mosquitoes. Sure we see a few in Denver in the heat of summer, but I am a mosquito magnet in the fullest sense of the term, and I am not looking forward to spending the summer covered in red, itchy welts.

2. Humidity. Setting aside the positive hair styling effects of the humidity, I get a little sweaty just imagining how hot and sticky the summer will be. I'm a Colorado wimp about it now, as evidenced on every summer trip I've taken back to Kansas or Nebraska over the past seven years, and it's going to take some serious getting used to.

3. Stale food. This goes back to humidity, I suppose. In Colorado, you can leave a bag of chips or a box of cereal or crackers out on the counter for a week, and you won't notice the difference. In Nebraska, if you leave it out for an hour you're risking inedibleness. It's liable to take a few ruined food items before that sinks in.

4. Prairie dogs and coyotes. That's sadness at leaving them behind, not dread of them eating me when I get to Nebraska. They live in the open space near our house now, and I'll miss them. It's fun to watch the prairie dogs from the kitchen or bedroom or to show them to the girls on walks. And it's eerie but very cool to listen to a pack of coyotes howling and yelping while I lie in bed with my window open on a warm summer night.

5. Mountains. Not that we take advantage of them as often as we should, but even the view of them on the drive home from work is inspirational, and it will be very sad to be re-entrenched in the flatlands of middle America. On the other hand, the lack of pesky hills will make running, pushing strollers, and pulling wagons a little easier on the knees.

Blog administration

#1 - I checked my site meter today after noticing that my BlogTopSites ranking has jumped noticeably. I'm not sure why, but there've been a surge of google searches for "puppy surprise runt" or some combination of those words. Did they talk about the thing on Saturday Night Live recently or has it been recalled or what? I can't figure out why a lot of people would be searching for the toy so suddenly. Maybe it's just one person who thought if they changed which letters were capitalized or which two words were in quotation marks, they'd get different results. And somehow, every time, they chose to click on my blog. Very odd. You make one offhand remark about an ugly toy, and it haunts you on google searches forever.

#2 - Are you, or someone to whom you've recommended my blog, from Little Rock, Arkansas? Someone who's reading my blog is, but for all my brainstorming, I can't figure out who you are! If you're one of my best friends and I've forgotten you, I apologize. If you're not my best friend, but someone who just enjoys checking my blog frequently and spending some time reading, that's cool, too. But you're my mystery reader, and I can't take the suspense. Please leave a comment here, or shoot me an email if you prefer, and identify yourself. The signs aren't pointing to stalker yet, but one can never be too careful when posting photos of her children. (Any chance your work server routes though Little Rock? That's the other way you're likely to show up as from there on my site meter... Really, I've given this some thought and I'm very curious. Thanks in advance for coming out of the closet).

#3 - Can you tell I haven't been reading much lately? My "A Good Read" list on the sidebar hasn't changed in months, and that's not because I've been neglecting it. Help me out, folks. What's worth reading these days? I have a library card and it needs to see some use.

#4 - I've been unable to post comments on the sites of anyone with word verification enabled today, so I shut off my own verification temporarily. Bring on the spammers... And sorry to those of you who aren't getting to see my exciting comments on your own sites!

Yackity yack

You know your kid is growing up when she starts talking back. Marianne dove into that game with both feet over the past week. It started with a few "no!"s and now has progressed to something similar to my least favorite kid game ever, the repeating/echoing game. In our house, things sound something like this:

Me: Marianne, please sit down in your chair.

Marianne: No, YOU sit down in YOUR chair.

Me: Marianne, please go potty before we leave.

Marianne: YOU go potty before we leave.

Me: Marianne, please finish eating your candy.

Marianne: No, YOU finish eating YOUR candy.

As you can see, it gets more and more nonsensical. It doesn't matter what I say, it gets turned around and shot back at me. At first it was sort of funny, so I just laughed. I think that may have been my downfall because now it's an issue. We ask her to do something real (like staying in her seat at the table, in a sitting position) and she continues to disobey while making her snarky little retort. That means now we have to actually make it stop. Man. This parenting gig is just one fun task after another.

Thankfully, Nathaniel laid some groundwork for this one a long while back when he started making Marianne respond to any requests we make with "Yes, Daddy" or "Okay, Mommy". Whenever I ask something of her and she talks back, I correct her with, "What do you say?" Today is the first day I've been pushing it, and it's been hit or miss, but she seems to be improving. She'll either throw out a prissy, "I said YOU sit down in YOUR seat." or she'll reply, "Yes, Mommy", looking slightly abashed, and get on with whatever she's been requested to do. Hopefully soon she'll stop with the back talk altogether. I feel like I should have at least another few years before I have to deal with that in earnest.

Relaxation

I had to post this picture first, simply because I like it. It's actually from a couple weeks ago when I first showed Marianne how to "make" her bed and arrange all her animals in a way that looks presentable. She said it looked like they were getting ready for a picture, and she wanted to be in the picture with them.

*****

We returned yesterday from a weekend spent relaxing at Winter Park, where the high was around 6 degrees each day. Thankfully the hotel had a good heater, and the pool was inside. We left the shelter of the hotel only a couple times for food and church. The rest of the days were spent lounging or exploring or eating at the hotel restaurant.

The pool was, I believe, the highlight of the weekend for the girls. Ruth has no fear, and jumped from the side of the pool into our waiting arms more times than I could count. It was a constant chorus of "walk slowly, Ruth!" so she wouldn't slide on the wet floor, and "wait till Mommy gets there!" so she wouldn't dive in too soon. She spent the first night in the room stumbling into things and misjudging the distance to walls and chairs, so I'm wondering if she got a little too much water in her ears. Hopefully this won't mean the onset of the ear infections we've managed so far to avoid.

Marianne also loved every minute we allowed her to be in the pool. Her behavior has changed dramatically from last summer, when she liked being in the water but was clearly afraid of the water at the same time. She amazed me on Friday afternoon by pushing off from the stairs and "swimming" on her own all around the pool. I made a point never to be too far away, since "water wings are not a life-saving device" and all that, but she was impressively independent! I can't wait for swimming lessons this summer. It'll be a whole new ballgame.

We were there with our friends, Matt and Heather, as well as their two year old daughter, so Ruth and Marianne had a friend of their own to help keep them entertained. We alternated watching the girls on Friday and Saturday nights so each set of parents had a night to go out to dinner in peace and freezing quiet. The night I watched the girls, they spent half the evening climbing on the furniture (because it's not my furniture, so I guess that makes it okay). The game was to climb onto the chair, dive from the chair to the bed, then once they were on the bed to reverse that routine and dive onto the chair and slide from the chair to the floor. A tad dangerous, perhaps, but whatever keeps them laughing.

The other half the time was spent, of course, in the favorite of all childhood pastimes, staring at a movie. I say "staring" rather than "watching" because, seriously, look at them!
That's Dora for you, folks. I tried a different movie first, but it just couldn't hold their attention. Dora it had to be. (Never mind that we had cable in the room. Of course there was nothing actually on television fit for children's viewing).

This was one of the most relaxing weekends I've had in a very long time. I slept hours more each night than usual, because once we had the lights dimmed for the girls to sleep, it was only a matter of time before I was unable to keep my eyes open. Friday night I think I was asleep by 9:30. I didn't have to clean up after us, and I didn't have to cook... I'm definitely keeping this in mind for future vacations. We don't necessarily need a "destination" or key activity for the trip. A weekend spent at a hotel with a pool is a destination in and of itself.

*****

I got two calls from the realtor about setting up viewings of the house while we were away for the weekend. Hooray! Now I just have to wait and see whether our realtor is able to get feedback from them.

This and that

We had the first showing of our house yesterday! I haven't heard any feedback yet, but I'm just glad we've officially had someone see it and I can feel like all my hard work has not been in vain. I got the call around 1:45 that someone wanted to come by between 3:00 and 4:00. It meant waking Marianne up a little early from her nap. Thankfully she'd gone to bed earlier than usual. I had just enough time to give the house a once over - sweeping the downstairs bathroom floor, fluffing pillows, throwing the couple dishes that need handwashing into the dishwasher for storage (breaking one of our last five wine glasses from the box of twelve I bought at Pier 1 senior year of college in the process), windexing the glass coffee table, etc - get the girls dressed and into their snow boots and sweep the fresh inch of snow off the front steps before we headed out at 2:45.

*****

We went to the mall for our afternoon snack and playtime. On the way, we took a vote on what we should have for snack, and McDonalds ice cream was the unanimous winner. This conversation followed:

Ruth: Non-alds! Non-alds!

Marianne: No, Ruth. It's not "non-alds". It's Old MICK Donalds. Old McDonalds.

Me: Actually... If you're going to be picky about it, it's just McDonalds. Old McDonald is a farmer that we sing about.

Marianne: Ruth, it's MICK Donalds. I call it OLD McDonalds, though. Because I like OLD McDonalds.

Ruth: Non-alds!

*****

The snack went well, with both girls thoroughly enjoying their ice cream while I thoroughly enjoyed my All-American Cheeseburger Meal since it struck me as I was ordering that I'd never eaten lunch. After snack we moved on to the dinosaur playland. It was remarkably quiet for a snowy day, but then I've never gone in the middle of the afternoon before. Maybe the usual crowd was napping, or maybe those parents have school kids who are too old and cool for climbing on dinosaurs, so they only come when the big kids are elsewhere. Whatever the reason, it was refreshingly calm.

Marianne was repeatedly playing her favorite game in which she stands on a solid surface (be it the floor, a chair or, in this case, the back of a stegosaurus), waves her arms around and calls out "Whoa! The ground is starting to shake! Help!" (It hearkens back to a Dora episode, if you must know. Sometimes she goes so far as to say "Help! Help! Ayudame!") I tried to impress upon her the idea that she shouldn't yell "help" in a room full of parents of small children because she'll give them all heart attacks, but she wasn't getting it.

At one point as she ran this routine, I walked over to "save" her, and she fell onto her back on top of the dinosaur. I reached out to tickle her and she said:

"Stop! You're not my mommy."

Right. Okay. Again, we're in a room full of parents of small children in this story, and that has to be the absolute last thing you want to hear a kid say. Because that's what you train your kid to say if someone is trying to steal him or her. At least that's what my mom always told me. You scream and make a fuss and yell, "You're not my mommy!" or "daddy!" as the case may be. The thing is, I don't remember ever telling that to Marianne. She's a little on the young side for this particular lesson (or at least, I tell myself she is but that may be my own naiveté), and I'm afraid of this exact situation. She thought it was funny. I had a minor panic attack that someone was going to call mall security and tell them I was stealing or harassing children.

The fact is, she'd been calling me "mommy" clearly enough for the past thirty minutes, but it still caused me to stop what I was doing immediately. I was at a loss for what to say or how to react that wouldn't make me look defensive (like I really wasn't her mommy but was trying to convince her to say I was) and would impress upon Marianne how bad a thing that is for her to say in that sort of public place unless it's true.

She called me mommy again within seconds (though it felt like longer) and I don't even know that any of the parents present heard her, but it was an uncomfortable moment for me, to say the least.

*****

Nathaniel left yesterday for a conference in Winter Park. Weather allowing, we'll join him there tomorrow to play in the mountains and the indoor pool till we all come back home together. That means I have to get the house clean before we leave, but that it will stay that way for a couple days with no effort on my part. Hooray!

In truth, keeping it tidy has not yet been as much work as I feared. For the most part I believe that's due to my having taken away all of the girls' toys. Oddly enough, though, they hardly seem to notice. They play with the toys that are present and seldom even ask about the ones that are missing. I may have to keep the toys thinned down like this going forward, rotating toys more often so they get some variety... We'll see how motivated I feel.

As for the rest of the house, this has been a very good lesson for me in that if I clean messes up as they arise (actually put away the lunch dishes and wipe down the table immediately following lunch, rather than throwing stuff in the sink or on the counter for later) the task seems much less daunting. New carpet that doesn't show dirt helps as well.

*****

It's tax time, folks! I'm sure it's the ex-accountant in me that gets excited about this, but as most of you probably know, I love doing my taxes. I finally got all the info I needed about mortgage interest and real estate taxes and student loan interest yesterday, so our tax forms are filled out and ready to mail as soon as Nathaniel gets home to sign them. Woohoo! (I'm sure I'll regret these sentiments the first year we actually turn out to OWE money, but so far, even with increasing our withholdings, that hasn't happened. Who doesn't get excited about a nice little check coming back?)