I got married in 2001. This was my first marriage, which was to a very nice guy. After some years we realized we weren’t meant to be and got an amicable divorce. Not unlike me, he is now happily married and has two small children of his own. But this post isn’t about him or that marriage. It’s about a pair of shorts.
A young lady (or in my case not so young lady) engaged and planning on getting married needs to find a dress. The day of the wedding the bride is supposed to look spectacular and that involves being just the proper weight. That commonly means going on a diet in the months before the wedding.
I did do the diet thing and I lost a good bit of weight. I hadn’t figured out the exercise part back then so all I did was eat a lot less calories. That summer, I got this pair of green beach shorts. Bright, day-glow kind of green. I loved those shorts. They fit me well when I was at my lowest weight at about 110 pounds.
I got married and didn’t care quite as much about my weight after that and those shorts got renamed to the “110 pound shorts.” I tried every so often to wear them but dimensionally, there was no way. Then there were the pregnancy years and there was triple no way during that time. Someday I would wear them, I would think when I saw them.
And then I learned to exercise. I really got into exercising. Exercise became a significant component of my daily routine. My weight wasn’t terribly low at this point, mostly because muscle weighs a lot more than fat. So this morning I’m in the closet and I look at the shorts and see those fifteen-year-old green “110 pound shorts” and I think, “I wonder…”
I figured the shorts would fit, but I weigh ten pounds more today. How would they fit? They were loose. I couldn’t believe it. They not only fit, they were comfortable. So now I can wear my Someday Shorts. The bit about diet and exercise together really works.
The Big Boy Update: My son has had itchy eyes on two occasions now. He’s done something both times that is terribly poignant. He will get a little bit of water and delicately daub it at the corner of his eye. When I asked him if he’d like eye drops he was grateful and stayed very still for me to put drops in his eyes.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter forgets the number sixteen. She likes to count and loves to sing and frequently does some sort of made up counting song. She always forgets sixteen. It’s so predictable now that my husband and I jump in and say, “and sixteen. Don’t forget sixteen.”
Fitness Update: Eight miles today, although it was indoors due to weather. But eight miles, even at a slow pace, is eight miles.
Friday, July 3, 2015
Thursday, July 2, 2015
Waisins
Children go through phases of eating foods. Or, at least mine do. Maybe that’s from me because I love to eat something for a while and then I’m done with it until some point in the future when I suddenly think, “I seriously need some tater tots right now.” Usually this is followed by me going to the store or restaurant and eating a lot of said item. But this isn’t about me.
I am on a perpetual mission to give my children the opportunity to try different things. Since they’re young, this translates to, “you have to have two bites of X before you can have more of the other thing you like on your plate you ate first.” I want them as adults to be able to go to any restaurant and enjoy eating any cuisine.
But since they’re three and four, this is an early work in progress. One thing they ate a lot of in the past and seemed to love was raisins. They loved those little boxes of raisins. They liked craisins as well. They even ate the dried cherries, which I thought were really good. Then, for no apparent reason, they just didn’t want to eat them any more. We tried but they just had no interest.
I’ve had an airtight container of craisins and white raisins for months now. I would send a small container to school as part of their lunch and it would come home untouched. Then, two days ago, suddenly they both wanted to eat them. My son was grabbing fistfuls and my daughter was deciding which she liked more. I asked them if they wanted a second serving of, “Mimi’s favorite white raisins” and they agreed they did.
Then, my son told me they were “waisins” and not raisins. He was combining ‘white’ and ‘raisin’ to describe the white raisins. I told him I liked the name and we’d call them that from now on. He smiled and then ate some more.
The Big Boy Update: My son came down in the middle of the night again the other night, saying his hand itched. I’m not sure that was the real reason, but he did want to get in bed for a few minutes with us. I told him it was time to go back upstairs a few minutes later. He got out of bed and walked up the stairs just ahead of me. I told him he was my favorite Greyson in the whole world. He then said something nice and touching—which he rarely does. He said. “I have the nicest mommy and the nicest daddy.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has lovely blonde hair. But it’s a mess. It’s fine and frail and it is wavy but goes into fly away mode at the slightest provocation. I’ve had it cut once (twice really, but the second time was right after to adjust something) in her over three-and-a-half years. It’s a little below her shoulders. Part of the reason it’s that short is it grows very slowly. The other part is it breaks off from being so delicate. It gets in her face and so I put it up in various types of things. It looks like she has bangs now, even though we’ve never cut them and always try very carefully to remove the hair tie/band/elastic/etc. It is pretty hair…every third day. It’s cute hair though on her every single day.
Fitness Update: I did an unexpected lazy biathlon today. I ran eight miles with my neighbor this morning. Then I took a shower, got some errands run and came home after lunch. I asked my husband if he wanted to go for a bike ride and he said sure. We went eighteen miles on the bikes in very nice afternoon weather.
I am on a perpetual mission to give my children the opportunity to try different things. Since they’re young, this translates to, “you have to have two bites of X before you can have more of the other thing you like on your plate you ate first.” I want them as adults to be able to go to any restaurant and enjoy eating any cuisine.
But since they’re three and four, this is an early work in progress. One thing they ate a lot of in the past and seemed to love was raisins. They loved those little boxes of raisins. They liked craisins as well. They even ate the dried cherries, which I thought were really good. Then, for no apparent reason, they just didn’t want to eat them any more. We tried but they just had no interest.
I’ve had an airtight container of craisins and white raisins for months now. I would send a small container to school as part of their lunch and it would come home untouched. Then, two days ago, suddenly they both wanted to eat them. My son was grabbing fistfuls and my daughter was deciding which she liked more. I asked them if they wanted a second serving of, “Mimi’s favorite white raisins” and they agreed they did.
Then, my son told me they were “waisins” and not raisins. He was combining ‘white’ and ‘raisin’ to describe the white raisins. I told him I liked the name and we’d call them that from now on. He smiled and then ate some more.
The Big Boy Update: My son came down in the middle of the night again the other night, saying his hand itched. I’m not sure that was the real reason, but he did want to get in bed for a few minutes with us. I told him it was time to go back upstairs a few minutes later. He got out of bed and walked up the stairs just ahead of me. I told him he was my favorite Greyson in the whole world. He then said something nice and touching—which he rarely does. He said. “I have the nicest mommy and the nicest daddy.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has lovely blonde hair. But it’s a mess. It’s fine and frail and it is wavy but goes into fly away mode at the slightest provocation. I’ve had it cut once (twice really, but the second time was right after to adjust something) in her over three-and-a-half years. It’s a little below her shoulders. Part of the reason it’s that short is it grows very slowly. The other part is it breaks off from being so delicate. It gets in her face and so I put it up in various types of things. It looks like she has bangs now, even though we’ve never cut them and always try very carefully to remove the hair tie/band/elastic/etc. It is pretty hair…every third day. It’s cute hair though on her every single day.
Fitness Update: I did an unexpected lazy biathlon today. I ran eight miles with my neighbor this morning. Then I took a shower, got some errands run and came home after lunch. I asked my husband if he wanted to go for a bike ride and he said sure. We went eighteen miles on the bikes in very nice afternoon weather.
Wednesday, July 1, 2015
Home Alone
I am home alone. I don’t have a husband. There is no dog. And there are zero children either away or asleep. I didn’t lose them, I promise. It’s a strange feeling though, having a place that has some portion or all of my family here to be empty entirely except for me.
My husband is out with one of our neighbors watching the new Terminator movie. My children and dog are on the way to my in-laws house for three days of fantastic vacation fun with their grandparents. I’m not sure they realize what’s in store for them. Nana and Papa have a full schedule of activities and events planned for the two of them.
We packed them up today and I had them pack their backpacks with whatever they wanted to take. My son put in some transformers, an Etch-a-Sketch and some Lego-type bricks that light up as well as some other small items. My daughter filled her backpack almost exclusively with the ABC wooden blocks Aunt A gave to our children two years ago.
We’re joining the children on the Fourth of July for some family fun. I’m looking forward to hearing about the fun they will have had. In the meantime, I’m not sure I remember what it’s like to have no children, no laundry, no dishes, no cleaning up after little people and keeping them fed and being an argument arbitrator and all the other things that go on with being a parent.
I guess I’ll find out shortly…
The Big Boy Update: My son, “Daddy, do you want to be a dinosaur?” Daddy, “no, I like being a person.” My son, “but dinosaurs are tougher.” My husband, “I know.” My son, “If you were a dinosaur you could protect me better while I sleep.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter handled disappointment well today and I was proud of her. She decided she wanted pop tarts for breakfast (a special treat) and selected one from the chocolate box. I told her she had to go to the potty and get underpants on since it was now morning and I’d get it ready for her. I then did a switch on her and got out the brown sugar cinnamon pop tart opened a while back that hadn’t been finished. I put the single pop tart on her plate and went back to my work. I heard her making sad noises. When I came to see what was happening, I saw her breaking off pieces of the pop tart and looking sad. She said, “I picked the one from the chocolate box but this is the one I got.” I said I understood how sometimes it’s hard when we don’t get what we expect and I understood how she felt. Had she tried the pop tart and what did she think? She eventually tried it and ate it—which I had expected would happen—even though she was disappointed. She didn’t complain or yell. I was proud of her.
Fitness Update: It was a mishmash day of a little bit here and a little bit there. I ran two miles in one mile increments and got some cardio in while at the house this morning. It doesn’t seem like I did much looking back on it, but it is a whole lot more than I ever did before I had my children.
My husband is out with one of our neighbors watching the new Terminator movie. My children and dog are on the way to my in-laws house for three days of fantastic vacation fun with their grandparents. I’m not sure they realize what’s in store for them. Nana and Papa have a full schedule of activities and events planned for the two of them.
We packed them up today and I had them pack their backpacks with whatever they wanted to take. My son put in some transformers, an Etch-a-Sketch and some Lego-type bricks that light up as well as some other small items. My daughter filled her backpack almost exclusively with the ABC wooden blocks Aunt A gave to our children two years ago.
We’re joining the children on the Fourth of July for some family fun. I’m looking forward to hearing about the fun they will have had. In the meantime, I’m not sure I remember what it’s like to have no children, no laundry, no dishes, no cleaning up after little people and keeping them fed and being an argument arbitrator and all the other things that go on with being a parent.
I guess I’ll find out shortly…
The Big Boy Update: My son, “Daddy, do you want to be a dinosaur?” Daddy, “no, I like being a person.” My son, “but dinosaurs are tougher.” My husband, “I know.” My son, “If you were a dinosaur you could protect me better while I sleep.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter handled disappointment well today and I was proud of her. She decided she wanted pop tarts for breakfast (a special treat) and selected one from the chocolate box. I told her she had to go to the potty and get underpants on since it was now morning and I’d get it ready for her. I then did a switch on her and got out the brown sugar cinnamon pop tart opened a while back that hadn’t been finished. I put the single pop tart on her plate and went back to my work. I heard her making sad noises. When I came to see what was happening, I saw her breaking off pieces of the pop tart and looking sad. She said, “I picked the one from the chocolate box but this is the one I got.” I said I understood how sometimes it’s hard when we don’t get what we expect and I understood how she felt. Had she tried the pop tart and what did she think? She eventually tried it and ate it—which I had expected would happen—even though she was disappointed. She didn’t complain or yell. I was proud of her.
Fitness Update: It was a mishmash day of a little bit here and a little bit there. I ran two miles in one mile increments and got some cardio in while at the house this morning. It doesn’t seem like I did much looking back on it, but it is a whole lot more than I ever did before I had my children.
Tuesday, June 30, 2015
The Mess
My children are helpful around the house…if pressed. They will clean up a mess if they’ve made it…if you tell them they have to. They like to be involved in what you’re doing…especially if it involves something good to eat. In short, they’re children.
I am proud that they will clean up a mess without too much wailing, although they will push any weak point they can find if they think you’re going to cave and clean up the mess they made quickly so we all can go to lunch. Today they made such a mess. They told me it was a mess. They warned me that not only was their room a mess, their playroom, closet and back storage areas were also total wrecks too.
They were right. They didn’t want to clean up, but eventually they did most of the work and I was able to organize some things in the process. I was worried we wouldn’t make lunch, especially given that we’d already blown past snack time with a standing order that no one could set foot past their bedroom door until everything was in Mary Poppin’s Spit Spot order.
There is a fine line between mess that sparks creativity and chaos that stifles it. In part, I hated cleaning some of it up because they’d come up with some very imaginative things with what they’d done. We made sure to keep some of those new things out so they could play with them again soon.
This evening they did another round of messy imagination play with the whirlwind that is their closet of toys in the basement. With strange implements from the lands of Super Heroes and my children’s imagination, my husband, children and dog fought evil from all directions.
The Big Boy Update: For our super hero play in the basement tonight my son told me, “Mom you have the power of when you kiss them they turn into good guys.” I didn’t see a lot of bad guys, but I did a lot of kissing (which was followed by giggling) to make sure my children stayed good guys.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is usually first with gymnastic, physical or acrobatic things but tonight my son had one on her. I was going to change one of the swings out on our play set with a different type of swing. My son told me he could get up on the A-frame bar to help. I was surprised: that bar is high up and hard for me to climb onto. My son showed me how by using the rope swing and his arms and legs, he could lever himself up and then could hold on and stand up on the support beam. He then showed me how he could get down. My daughter watched the entire time and then said she wanted to try. She’s a little smaller, but she watched what he had done and followed the same procedure to get up. She isn’t about to be outdone when it comes to something on the swing set.
Fitness Update: Our sitter had the children at a park out on a picnic today and I decided to combine two fun things into one trip. I got on running gear and ran to the shopping strip to get a manicure. I took the long way around via the park and greenway to get some extra distance in. I’m not sure if that was a good idea in the ninety-two degree weather, but by the time I figured that out I was committed. I took the shorter, more nerve-racking route home down the sidewalk-less road towards our neighborhood. Manicure and seven miles, the hot and sweaty route.
I am proud that they will clean up a mess without too much wailing, although they will push any weak point they can find if they think you’re going to cave and clean up the mess they made quickly so we all can go to lunch. Today they made such a mess. They told me it was a mess. They warned me that not only was their room a mess, their playroom, closet and back storage areas were also total wrecks too.
They were right. They didn’t want to clean up, but eventually they did most of the work and I was able to organize some things in the process. I was worried we wouldn’t make lunch, especially given that we’d already blown past snack time with a standing order that no one could set foot past their bedroom door until everything was in Mary Poppin’s Spit Spot order.
There is a fine line between mess that sparks creativity and chaos that stifles it. In part, I hated cleaning some of it up because they’d come up with some very imaginative things with what they’d done. We made sure to keep some of those new things out so they could play with them again soon.
This evening they did another round of messy imagination play with the whirlwind that is their closet of toys in the basement. With strange implements from the lands of Super Heroes and my children’s imagination, my husband, children and dog fought evil from all directions.
The Big Boy Update: For our super hero play in the basement tonight my son told me, “Mom you have the power of when you kiss them they turn into good guys.” I didn’t see a lot of bad guys, but I did a lot of kissing (which was followed by giggling) to make sure my children stayed good guys.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter is usually first with gymnastic, physical or acrobatic things but tonight my son had one on her. I was going to change one of the swings out on our play set with a different type of swing. My son told me he could get up on the A-frame bar to help. I was surprised: that bar is high up and hard for me to climb onto. My son showed me how by using the rope swing and his arms and legs, he could lever himself up and then could hold on and stand up on the support beam. He then showed me how he could get down. My daughter watched the entire time and then said she wanted to try. She’s a little smaller, but she watched what he had done and followed the same procedure to get up. She isn’t about to be outdone when it comes to something on the swing set.
Fitness Update: Our sitter had the children at a park out on a picnic today and I decided to combine two fun things into one trip. I got on running gear and ran to the shopping strip to get a manicure. I took the long way around via the park and greenway to get some extra distance in. I’m not sure if that was a good idea in the ninety-two degree weather, but by the time I figured that out I was committed. I took the shorter, more nerve-racking route home down the sidewalk-less road towards our neighborhood. Manicure and seven miles, the hot and sweaty route.
Monday, June 29, 2015
It Started With the Underpants
My son told me his underpants were too small the other day. (They’re not.) We were going out to Big Lots—one of my favorite stores for random consumer fun—so I decided to look for some more underpants for him while we were there.
I didn’t see much, but I did find a set of six super hero-esque ones that were his size. There are just a lot of super heroes these days and quite frankly, I can’t keep them all straight. I figured I’d sort it out when we got home.
By the time we got back from our afternoon of errands, my son was in a tired and cranky mood. In his case more precisely, he was being very, very rigid. This is how my son deals with too much novelty in his life. He wants to control everything and everyone and he wants nothing to change. My daughter is more chaos-oriented, but that’s another story.
So I had the television on because I needed to unpack and they needed to decompress for a while. I pulled out the new underpants and my son wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. He yelled and said to throw them away. He threw them on the floor. I picked them up and started looking at the great super heroes on them and talking aloud to the underpants.
Then…he got interested. He got really interested. In, I swear, an hour, my son was completely obsessed with these six pair of underpants. He wanted to know what they each did and all sorts of things about them. By then I had learned I was in trouble.
You see, these underpants didn’t have a movie or a television show associated with them. There was no app for them either. Those were video game characters on my son’s new underpants—for a video game he couldn’t play at his age.
He carried the underpants downstairs. He told daddy which one he was and which one I was and which one his sister would be. He came up with gear for us to use based on the sole picture on the underpants. He was in full-on imagination mood and he was happy. He was so happy about these new characters.
Finally I had an idea, I sat him in front of my computer and found some video clips on the game site’s YouTube channel and let him learn about the characters some more. He paid rapt attention and absorbed it all.
The next day, he was so into the characters he managed to get five of the six pair of underpants on at the same time. He was particularly upset he couldn’t wear the sixth pair because they were dirty from the day before.
The Big Boy Update: In addition to being obsessed with the Skylander underpants as written above, my son has also admitted that he doesn’t want to go to the potty when he has a need. He holds it and eventually streaks his pants. He can only get a star for the day now if he doesn’t streak his pants. Also, if there is a chance to watch any television, he will not get to watch his favorite show (Transformers, Rescue Bots) if he’s done any streaking. He loves that show; I hope it’s some serious motivation to go to the bathroom.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I went to the fitness room this afternoon and passed my children at the neighborhood pool with their sitters, Tristan and Morgan. My daughter was standing on Tristan’s shoulders and was very excited to be about to jump into the water.
Fitness Update: I ran a ten-minute mile today on a treadmill. Only one mile, but I don’t normally run that quickly when I’m just chatting and plodding along on the streets and the trail. It wasn’t that hard to run at the faster pace. It’s easier to run faster when the road is moving under you and you have to make a decision to push some buttons to slow down. When I’m propelling myself, I suppose I just slow down without paying attention.
I didn’t see much, but I did find a set of six super hero-esque ones that were his size. There are just a lot of super heroes these days and quite frankly, I can’t keep them all straight. I figured I’d sort it out when we got home.
By the time we got back from our afternoon of errands, my son was in a tired and cranky mood. In his case more precisely, he was being very, very rigid. This is how my son deals with too much novelty in his life. He wants to control everything and everyone and he wants nothing to change. My daughter is more chaos-oriented, but that’s another story.
So I had the television on because I needed to unpack and they needed to decompress for a while. I pulled out the new underpants and my son wanted absolutely nothing to do with them. He yelled and said to throw them away. He threw them on the floor. I picked them up and started looking at the great super heroes on them and talking aloud to the underpants.
Then…he got interested. He got really interested. In, I swear, an hour, my son was completely obsessed with these six pair of underpants. He wanted to know what they each did and all sorts of things about them. By then I had learned I was in trouble.
You see, these underpants didn’t have a movie or a television show associated with them. There was no app for them either. Those were video game characters on my son’s new underpants—for a video game he couldn’t play at his age.
He carried the underpants downstairs. He told daddy which one he was and which one I was and which one his sister would be. He came up with gear for us to use based on the sole picture on the underpants. He was in full-on imagination mood and he was happy. He was so happy about these new characters.
Finally I had an idea, I sat him in front of my computer and found some video clips on the game site’s YouTube channel and let him learn about the characters some more. He paid rapt attention and absorbed it all.
The next day, he was so into the characters he managed to get five of the six pair of underpants on at the same time. He was particularly upset he couldn’t wear the sixth pair because they were dirty from the day before.
The Big Boy Update: In addition to being obsessed with the Skylander underpants as written above, my son has also admitted that he doesn’t want to go to the potty when he has a need. He holds it and eventually streaks his pants. He can only get a star for the day now if he doesn’t streak his pants. Also, if there is a chance to watch any television, he will not get to watch his favorite show (Transformers, Rescue Bots) if he’s done any streaking. He loves that show; I hope it’s some serious motivation to go to the bathroom.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: I went to the fitness room this afternoon and passed my children at the neighborhood pool with their sitters, Tristan and Morgan. My daughter was standing on Tristan’s shoulders and was very excited to be about to jump into the water.
Fitness Update: I ran a ten-minute mile today on a treadmill. Only one mile, but I don’t normally run that quickly when I’m just chatting and plodding along on the streets and the trail. It wasn’t that hard to run at the faster pace. It’s easier to run faster when the road is moving under you and you have to make a decision to push some buttons to slow down. When I’m propelling myself, I suppose I just slow down without paying attention.
Sunday, June 28, 2015
Imaginary Friends
I took the children to see Inside Out today, the newest Pixar movie. I had heard it would likely be a bit over the children’s heads, and I agree, it was a little too sophisticated for them in parts, but they did like the movie over all. Tonight in the bedroom before bath time, I asked my son, “did you like the movie?” He said yes and then asked, “ what was it about?”
One of the characters in the movie is an imaginary friend from the primary character’s childhood named Bing Bong. At twelve-years-old, the main character doesn’t play with her imaginary friend any more, but the memory of him still lurks in her mind. It reminded me of earlier in the day when I had a conversation with my children, without realizing they were talking about an imaginary friend until we were well into the conversation.
We spent a good portion of the day with my running neighbor’s family. She and I started the morning with a run. My husband was in a golf tournament so he dropped our children off at their house until she and I returned from running. It was tough getting the kids out of their house so they could go to church, but we managed to walk home with the promise we were meeting them for a late lunch in a short while.
I got them both into the car an hour-and-a-half later, saying we were on the way to lunch. They started talking in the back seat to each other about how old various people were. They had just come from our neighbor’s house a few hours before, so when they were talking about how old Gigi was, I jumped in and said, “Gigi’s not five, she was born two days after you, so she’s three.” They both protested.
They insisted Gigi was five, or maybe she was six. It took me a minute to realize they were saying, “Ghi Ghi” their imaginary friend and not Gigi, the neighbor. I caught on when they started comparing ages with Gah Gah and Pahmer.
I don’t know how long their imaginary friends will last, but it’s nice while they’re here.
The Big Boy Update: My son continues to streak his pants because he doesn’t want to go to the bathroom. We have been trying to work through it. He doesn’t mind washing his underpants now and, honestly, he’s getting quite good at washing them in the sink. Tonight, he wanted to go play with his friends in our back yard after we discovered streaky pants. I told him I was tired of washing pants so he could go out, but he wasn’t allowed to wear pants, only underpants. That, apparently, was what mattered to him. He had a terrible fit inside saying he had to have pants to go outside. He was so mad he told me, "Mom, can you call the police and tell them to put you and daddy in jail and the call uncle Jon to pick me up.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter feels much, much better today after one day’s treatment with yeast medication. Yesterday she was howling when she went to the bathroom.
Fitness Update: Eleven miles this morning in fantastic weather. It wasn’t too hot, it wasn’t humid and it was nice and sunny. Also, we weren’t plagued by bugs
One of the characters in the movie is an imaginary friend from the primary character’s childhood named Bing Bong. At twelve-years-old, the main character doesn’t play with her imaginary friend any more, but the memory of him still lurks in her mind. It reminded me of earlier in the day when I had a conversation with my children, without realizing they were talking about an imaginary friend until we were well into the conversation.
We spent a good portion of the day with my running neighbor’s family. She and I started the morning with a run. My husband was in a golf tournament so he dropped our children off at their house until she and I returned from running. It was tough getting the kids out of their house so they could go to church, but we managed to walk home with the promise we were meeting them for a late lunch in a short while.
I got them both into the car an hour-and-a-half later, saying we were on the way to lunch. They started talking in the back seat to each other about how old various people were. They had just come from our neighbor’s house a few hours before, so when they were talking about how old Gigi was, I jumped in and said, “Gigi’s not five, she was born two days after you, so she’s three.” They both protested.
They insisted Gigi was five, or maybe she was six. It took me a minute to realize they were saying, “Ghi Ghi” their imaginary friend and not Gigi, the neighbor. I caught on when they started comparing ages with Gah Gah and Pahmer.
I don’t know how long their imaginary friends will last, but it’s nice while they’re here.
The Big Boy Update: My son continues to streak his pants because he doesn’t want to go to the bathroom. We have been trying to work through it. He doesn’t mind washing his underpants now and, honestly, he’s getting quite good at washing them in the sink. Tonight, he wanted to go play with his friends in our back yard after we discovered streaky pants. I told him I was tired of washing pants so he could go out, but he wasn’t allowed to wear pants, only underpants. That, apparently, was what mattered to him. He had a terrible fit inside saying he had to have pants to go outside. He was so mad he told me, "Mom, can you call the police and tell them to put you and daddy in jail and the call uncle Jon to pick me up.”
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter feels much, much better today after one day’s treatment with yeast medication. Yesterday she was howling when she went to the bathroom.
Fitness Update: Eleven miles this morning in fantastic weather. It wasn’t too hot, it wasn’t humid and it was nice and sunny. Also, we weren’t plagued by bugs
Saturday, June 27, 2015
Pool Pizza in the Rain
We had another impromptu pool gathering today at dinner time. It was a different group of families today, but there was the standard order of pizzas, albeit some with different toppings. The pizza shop knows how to find us in the back of the clubhouse pool with ease by now.
We gathered in some extra people we didn’t initially invite at first because there was plenty of pizza. No one coordinated but we had liquor and what seemed like a full bar from one family’s pool bag. We brought chips and salsa with a side of fresh strawberries. There were several choices of beverages for the children and multiple options for the adults, people were just passing around. There were snap peas, sweet, fresh peppers and plenty of napkins for the small but messy children.
Just before the pizza arrived it thundered and rain shortly followed. No matter, we all relocated to the covered area of the building, pushed tables together and turned on the television for the children so the adults could talk. Jurassic Park was playing. My son and daughter were into it as much as the older children.
It was relaxed. It was fun. It was a great summer evening with no real pressure to get home to bed times for the following morning’s grind of school. We’re in now and we’re not even worried about when the children go to bed because they’ll fall asleep soon enough when they’re tired.
I love every season, but I most love the season I’m in right about when I hit the middle of the season, I think.
The Big Boy Update: My son told me today, “I love Genevieve,” who is our neighbor’s daughter and his sister’s age. I also know he has the serious little boy hots for her older sister, Juliette, who is six, because she is savvy and cute and precocious and she doesn’t put up with his shenanigans.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has launched into a major upswing in drawing. Her skills are improving, meaning it’s not just scribbles anymore. She is interested in drawing all the time too. I’ve taken to leaving new things for her to color or draw at her seat at the kitchen bar. When she saw something new there today, she sat down and immediately colored on it until she’d finished filling it all in.
We gathered in some extra people we didn’t initially invite at first because there was plenty of pizza. No one coordinated but we had liquor and what seemed like a full bar from one family’s pool bag. We brought chips and salsa with a side of fresh strawberries. There were several choices of beverages for the children and multiple options for the adults, people were just passing around. There were snap peas, sweet, fresh peppers and plenty of napkins for the small but messy children.
Just before the pizza arrived it thundered and rain shortly followed. No matter, we all relocated to the covered area of the building, pushed tables together and turned on the television for the children so the adults could talk. Jurassic Park was playing. My son and daughter were into it as much as the older children.
It was relaxed. It was fun. It was a great summer evening with no real pressure to get home to bed times for the following morning’s grind of school. We’re in now and we’re not even worried about when the children go to bed because they’ll fall asleep soon enough when they’re tired.
I love every season, but I most love the season I’m in right about when I hit the middle of the season, I think.
The Big Boy Update: My son told me today, “I love Genevieve,” who is our neighbor’s daughter and his sister’s age. I also know he has the serious little boy hots for her older sister, Juliette, who is six, because she is savvy and cute and precocious and she doesn’t put up with his shenanigans.
The Tiny Girl Chronicles: My daughter has launched into a major upswing in drawing. Her skills are improving, meaning it’s not just scribbles anymore. She is interested in drawing all the time too. I’ve taken to leaving new things for her to color or draw at her seat at the kitchen bar. When she saw something new there today, she sat down and immediately colored on it until she’d finished filling it all in.
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