wokkin'

liam's always been a champion sleeper. i cannot remember the last time we heard a peep out of him after we turned out the light and closed the door at 7:50 pm. susanna, on the other hand, has been a bit more challenging. i hate to complain, especially since i have friends whose children have real sleep issues ... but rarely do we have an evening where she goes down without at least a small whimper.

the other night, chris was single-parenting while i was at a meeting. about ten minutes after he had finished up bedtime with the kids and come downstairs, susanna started to wail. this time it was apparently at such a fevered pitch that he raced up there to see what in the world was going on -- was her hand stuck? had she gotten sick in the bed?

he opened the door to find her standing there in the dark, smoothing her hair out of her eyes. "i want to wok," she declared, very matter-of-factly.

chris: "what, honey?"

susanna: "i want to WOK."

chris: "you want to walk?", thinking that an upcoming march around the room might be in order.

susanna: "no, daddy!", exasperated. she then points to the rocker in the corner of her room. "I. WANT. TO. WOK."

i'm surprised susanna's pinky hasn't turned blue, the way she's got her daddy so tightly wound around her little finger. following his daughter's command, he sat in the rocker, placed her on his lap, and rocked. after a minute or so, she informed him, "i'm all done now," and then got down, plodded over to her bed, and climbed in.

this obvious stall tactic has now become a nightly ritual, but one we can live with. especially when we consider the fact that in ten years or so, "i want to rock!" is going to have an entirely different meaning.

not to be outdone

as i was showing liam his pictures on the last blog post, susanna, ever the nosy little sister, barged in. "where is 'sanna?" she asked, her eyes scanning the screen. "i don't see 'sanna anywhere!" i had planned on having some close-ups taken of her as well, until she scratched her cheek, got a huge mosquito bite on her forehead, and snot started pouring out of her nose. still, we managed to get a few from afar. i promised i'd also upload a few of her to satisfy the diva. hopefully she'll be pleased.

finally, picture perfect

you know how i posted earlier on how it's absolutely impossible to get a good picture of my children? seems the problem didn't lie so much with the subjects as it did with the photographer. i learned that this morning at the raleigh rose garden, when i watched in awe as a professional captured the most fantastic images i could have ever hoped for.

artists advise that the best time to have an oil painting done of your child is around age four or five, because by that age, kids have moved past the toddler look but haven't yet lost any teeth. i knew i needed to go ahead and have some good professional pictures taken of liam to give to an artist, since a) many artists have at least a six-month waiting list; and b) i knew that liam would insist looking like a darn goofball by sticking his hands in his mouth, and we'd have to reschedule (and probably reschedule the rescheduling.)

but much to my surprise, he was an angel. (and i have to say that as much as i love him, the words "angel" and "liam" rarely go in the same sentence. a much more likely combination might be "mischevious little rascal" and "liam".) the attached pictures are just three of hundreds that i totally love. my friend sara grow of growphotography met with us this morning and snapped her camera for over an hour. God has so obviously blessed her with such a special gift. the last picture is one of my favorites ... certainly not a contender for an oil painting, but it just captures liam's personality so well. so, i've gone from one end of the spectrum to the other ... from having zero good pictures when i take them myself, to having an abundance. my problem now is -- how do i choose just one?

running on empty

i often look back on specific things my parents did while raising me and think, wow, that was pretty ingenious. i was reminded of this on thursday when i ran out of gas. during rush hour. with both kids. and the dog. and no cell phone. my parents, when they bequeathed to me my late grandmother's 1985 buick skylark on my sixteenth birthday, warned me of its one serious defect. (well, besides the glaring defects of being a navy blue senior citizen's car without a working FM radio.) somehow missed by the manufacturer, they informed me, was that the tank was actually empty when the gauge read quarter-full. the lesson was obvious. for the year that i drove that car before i headed off to college, i hightailed it into a gas station as soon as that needle started going southward of the halfway mark. i wasn't taking any chances. the good thing was that i never ran out of gas. the sad thing was that it took so long for me to realize how masterfully my parents pulled the wool over my eyes. i was almost 30 when it hit me that they hadn't been entirely truthful with the whole "aren't-you-so-glad-we-figured-this-out-before-you-got-stranded-somewhere?" routine. but if i've learned anything in the past four years of parenting, it's that you do what you gotta do -- even if it involves a little white lie every now and then. will i do the same thing in twelve years, when my children start driving? after being stuck on the side of the road last week, i've learned my lesson. i'd simply be a fuel fool not to.

arrrrrgh

up until now, i've been fortunate to be able to do halloween my way. i've always decided what the kids were going to be, and that's just how it's worked. no extra input by any participating party needed, thank you very much. for susanna's first halloween, they were a bumblebee and a spider. last year, they were a cow and cowboy. i was busy dreaming up another dynamic duo when reality reared its ugly head: liam now actually has an opinion. out of the blue last week -- we hadn't been discussing the topic at all -- he informed me, "i want to be a pirate for halloween!" a pirate? i thought. well, hmm. i suppose i could live with that. over my dead body will he ever be a vampire or football player or any other such nasty thing ... but a pirate could actually be cute. so i agreed. now, i consider myself a fairly crafty person, but after sewing my own dress for a wedding a few years ago when one long sleeve was a little more gathered than the other and i wound up with my right arm bent at a weird angle all evening long, i swore i'd never again make another piece of clothing. n-e-v-e-r. so, i started looking online to buy a cute ready-made pirate costume, perusing all sorts of websites. but for whatever reason, i couldn't find anything i liked. and then, as i walked into the local warehouse club last week to pick up get another 5-pound block of cheese that my children will devour in three days, i saw, front and center, the most adorable halloween pirate costume. it was practically calling my name. and it was for a boy. and it was in liam's size. and it was cheap. i just couldn't pass it up. is it great quality? heck no. was it available and easy and what liam wanted? yes. he immediately tried it on as soon as he found it hanging in his closet, and fell in love. he greeted chris at the door that evening with a "shiver me timber!" and muttered a few "arrrrrgh"s during dinner (although that probably had as much to do with his new alter ego as it did the veggies that were on his plate.) we had to convince him to take it off to go to sleep that night. as we were driving to school the next morning, i told him that his teacher would probably love to know what he's going to be for halloween. in the rearview mirror, i could see his face light up. "oh, yes, mommy!," he exclaimed, beaming. "i can't wait to be a racecar driver!"

storytime

after their bath last night, i was putting laundry away for a few minutes before i realized that i hadn't heard a peep out of the kids. silence is often not a good thing with preschoolers, so with a bit of trepidation i tracked them down in liam's room. what i saw from the doorway made me melt. there was susanna, lying in liam's bed next to him, gazing adoringly at her big brother as he read her a story. i immediately grabbed the camera. as someone with two pesty and annoying younger siblings (well, they were pesty and annoying while we were growing up ... they've actually turned out to be quite cool in adulthood), i know that this time of mutual affection will be short-lived. pretty soon they're going to be screaming at each other about the remote and fighting over the imaginary line in the middle of the backseat. so, i really wanted to document this sugary-sweet moment, as proof that at one time in their lives, they truly did love each other. the footage i got conjures up that billy joel song "leave a tender moment alone". funny? yes. tender? well ... you decide.

lipstick on a ... girl

there are innumerable things that amaze me about children -- all children, not just my own -- and two such things relate to susanna's most recent exploits. first, it amazes me how much mischief kids can get into in a matter of seconds. before i was a parent, i'd see those pictures that float around from time to time on mass e-mails -- you know the ones, like the boy who drew all over his little brother's face with magic marker, or the girl who dove headfirst into a cake in the fridge -- and shake my head at the detached parenting that was obviously to blame. of course, now that i'm a parent myself, i've wised up, and know firsthand how quickly things can spiral out of control. in the blink of an eye, disaster can occur from which your walls, or upholstery, or floors will never recover. and second, it always amazes me how much kids soak in by silent observation. susanna is infatuated with all things cosmetic, and just by watching me when i wasn't even aware of it, knows just what each product or device does. a few days ago she got a hold of my eyelash curler and immediately placed it ever so gingerly over her closed eyes. yesterday she grabbed an emery board and started "filing" her nails. and lipstick ... well, don't get me started on lipstick. she requests some every morning after she brushes her teeth, since she cannot possibly approach a new day without applying a fresh coat. i was so clever, i thought, in convincing her that clear lip gloss was the same thing. evidently, she wised up.

hip to be square

liam, has i have posted before, has a knack for numbers. he recently discovered the scale in our bathroom and loves to stand on it and announce his weight. he likes to do this several times a day, and seems to be disappointed when the number stays the same. a few days ago, i saw him loading his pockets down with matchbox cars, trying to get that needle to go farther up the dial. (needless to say, a few extra ounces of cheap metal did not achieve his goal.) as we were walking into his preschool classroom this morning, he noticed a height chart on the wall next to the door and asked me to measure him. he proudly squared his shoulders and waited patiently for me to read out the number. when i did, any previous disappointment in his personal stats melted away. he excitedly exclaimed, "FORTY inches? just like FORTY pounds! mommy, that means ... ... i'm a square!"

skeeters

the current bane of my existence is the mosquito. i have asked God on many an occasion what caused Him to decide, on the sixth day of Creation, that he'd put these things on the planet. i mean, seriously, God. far be it for me to ever challenge Your wisdom ... but what were You thinking? "hmmm. I've made the ox and the lamb, the peacock and the polar bear. time now for a blood-sucking insect that serves no other purpose than to annoy the mess out of people." for some reason, our back yard is infested with these things. they live near water, but there's no water back there. no creek, no puddles, no nothing. just dadgum mosquitoes. my two sweet children seem to be magnets for these things, but try as i might, i cannot keep them away -- even with three huge citronella candles lit on the deck and two ceiling fans running at full speed. and don't even think about going out to our new playset back in the wooded section without being doused head-to-toe with repellent. they're everywhere! tonight chris washed his hands before returning to the grill, and immediately got three bites on his palm, the one body part that didn't still have spray on it. there is one very interesting part of this increasingly frustrating issue. liam and susanna are both devoured on every square inch of their limbs, and yet, i have never once seen them scratch at them. they've never even complained of them itching. how is that possible? i get ONE bite and it takes every ounce of my willpower to refrain from tearing my leg off. they seriously don't notice the bites at all. the thing i'm sure they do notice is their crazy momma running around the kitchen, armed with a rolled-up newspaper swatting at the air and yelling at these evasive suckers. years down the road if i wind up in an asylum (which is not outside of the realm of possibility on trying days -- you moms of young ones know what i mean), that might be how my children answer when asked if there were any early signs of my mental demise. "yeah, mommy just started to go crazy one summer. screaming at bugs and wielding wadded-up weapons and smacking any flat surface she could find. it was really all downhill from there."

not so picture perfect

i yearn for those fleeting days of the past when we could get a good picture of the two kids together. we were lucky to get an excellent portrait of them this past christmas, but i think that was the last time we've taken anything worth putting in a frame. nowadays, they know exactly how to drive me crazy. how much fun they obviously have -- who needs toys, when you can play with your mother's sanity? on thursday morning, for liam's second day and susanna's first day of school, they were wearing coordinating outfits and looking so sweet. i stood them right next to each other on the front porch and backed up to focus the lens. and as soon as i was ready ... susanna looked to the left. liam looked to the right. susanna squinted, told me it was too bright outside, and asked me to turn off the sun. (hey, i'm good, but not that good.) one of them would step away, i'd re-position them, and then the other would walk off. and then my favorite: liam put his hands in his mouth and stuck out his tongue. (i would just love to know what genius on the playground taught him that move.) of course, seconds later, susanna followed suit. yes, it seems that right as i'm about to push the button ... they know just what to do to push my buttons.

best-laid plans

there are lots of things i'd love to change about myself. i detest broccoli. i procrastinate. (there's a load of dishes in the sink beckoning to me as i write this.) i don't iron as much as i should. but hands down, the biggest problem i have with myself is that i am always, always late.

this, as opposed to many other facets of my personality, i do not come by naturally. both of my parents are always, always early. i remember trying to explain to my mom, unsuccessfully, what "fashionably late" meant. to her, there is nothing fashionable about wasting other people's time. and i do agree. but for some reason, that doesn't make it any easier for me to be prompt. what bothers me the most about my tardiness is how it must affect my children. instead of enjoying a leisurely breakfast and a slow-paced drive to school, our mornings are more often filled with, "come on! find your shoes! we'll go potty when we get there! let's go! let's go! I SAID LET'S GOOOOOOOOOO!" i recognize that this cannot possibly be a healthy way to start a day for a four- and two-year old, yet i constantly find myself falling into the same trap.

today was the first of school for liam. (susanna starts tomorrow.) i've been contemplating my approach all summer, and decided that this was my time to turn over a new leaf. this was to be my Year of Being Early. (okay. i'll be realistic. i'll settle for this being my Year of Being On Time.) last night, i laid out the kids' outfits and packed a snack for susanna, since we'd be running errands after dropping off liam. i made sure they had placed their shoes in the cubbies by the back door like they're supposed to. i even got out the coffee filters and ground the beans. i was feeling great and was oh so proud of myself. pat on the back for sara!

and this morning, my efforts were paying off. we had all eaten our breakfasts, i had cleared the table, and loaded the dishwasher. our hair was combed, we were dressed in unwrinkled clothes, and our teeth were brushed. at 8:53 i went upstairs to grab my cell phone, pleased as punch with myself that we were going to have no trouble at all getting out the door by 8:55. and then ... it happened. i came downstairs to find water all over the kitchen table where i had just been sitting two minutes before. liam and susanna were playing with the fridge magnets -- right under the water spigot, where they love to help themselves to a drink -- but when i asked, they both innocently swore they hadn't spilled anything. since neither of them has ever told a lie, at this point i was perplexed. frustrated, i went over to the table to mop up the spill ... and then was hit in the head by a drop. and then two. and i looked up. staring back at me, almost mockingly, was a leak in the ceiling, which was coming from the floor above, which was, as was discovered later, coming from the master bath toilet.

at this point, it's 8:57. liam is looking at his watch and telling me we were supposed to leave two minutes ago. (the fact that he's telling time and is actually performing subtraction somehow isn't so cute in the middle of a crisis.) chris is inaccessible by cell phone, as he's in training all day. my dad, handyman extraordinaire, is two hours away at the beach. i'm frantically calling our plumber. our home warranty company. even my realtor. why can't i remember where the shut-off valve is???

short story long, i finally got the water turned off and a professional out in the afternoon to fix the problem. i'm not even going to think about the water pressure releaser thingy we need replaced, or even the sheetrocking and painting that will need to be done (see photo). no, i'm thinking that, for the first time in years, i was actually going to be early! i had done my best! my goal was in sight! yet, try as i might, the cards were stacked against me. we rushed through the classroom door ten minutes late -- even later than normal.

i guess this is going to be my Year of Trying Really Hard and Still Falling Just a Bit Short. and maybe A Bit Wet.

farewell, summer

with the arrival of labor day comes the departure of summer. maybe not on the calendar, but for all intents and purposes, the season has ended. and i'm feeling quite ambivalent about the whole thing, actually.

on the one hand, i have to admit i'm excited. liam will be returning to his beloved preschool, and susanna will be attending for the first time. i know that children at this age crave routine, and it will certainly be nice to get back into a predictable schedule.

but on the other hand, i hate to see the season of freedom end. we've gone to the beach seven or eight times, and have enjoyed swimming lessons, outside playdates, picnics, museums, pool excursions, and camps. on a few rainy days we've even stayed in our pajamas until lunchtime, playing board games and hosting tea parties. we've taken long walks and ridden bikes and have just had an overall fantastic few months. i'll miss this laidback time.

for our last summer hurrah, on friday afternoon i took the kids to pullen park, a raleigh landmark full of fun stuff that i remember doing when i was liam's age. we kind of crammed in all of the highlights of summer in a two-hour stay: we fed the ducks, rode the carousel, took a train ride, played on the playground, and ate a picnic lunch with friends. we returned home with the smells of sunscreen and bug repellent, and a few great pictures. and the realization that summer would officially end in just a few short days.

farewell, summer!