wordless wednesday

here is a 40-second musical treat, courtesy of susanna's preschool class of pilgrims.  hope you had a fantastic thanksgiving!

(and yes, it seems that our daughter believes that given the opportunity, true pilgrims would opt for cropped t-shirts that showcase their chubby tummies.  subdued, dark, long-sleeved blouses under their big white collars are apparently far too provincial.  she's so ahead of her time.)

it's all in the details

liam's memory is amazing.  well, partly amazing.  he can remember the most specific details of things that happened years ago, but for some strange reason, has a hard time remembering what we've asked him to do to get ready for bed.  (we'll find him sprawled on his bed, poring over some sports book, after we've clearly told him that he needed to put on his pajamas and brush his teeth.  "oh!" he'll look up at us with shock.  "i forgot!")

but in every other area, his mind is like a steel trap.  take yesterday, for example.  i was putting on make-up and he happened to be with me, chomping at the bit to leave so we could go to a friend's house.  to occupy him, i asked him if he had gotten the chance to read the shel silverstein book that i'd checked out for him at the library.  he confirmed that he had.  "what's it about?" i asked him.

he began to tell me the plot and the characters.  and this is where i confess of (yet another) bad habit i have as a mom: i don't always listen to every single word that comes out of my children's mouths.  they tend to wax poetic a bit in their recounting of events, and i will -- from time to time -- space out a bit.  i'm pretty adept at inserting, "hmm"s and "i see"s at the appropriate times, so that they really have no idea that i'm not giving them my undivided attention.  i get the gist, which is really all that matters, right?

i know i must be the only parent in the world who does this, so give me some credit for being honest. 

anyway, i was finishing up my mascara when liam began winding down the synopsis of the missing piece meets the big O.  but it wasn't until he uttered the last statement that i realized just how detailed he had been.

"... and then there were three blank pages at the end," he said.

so riddle me this, batman: just why, after five times of asking, can't the boy remember to put on his socks?

"s" is for ...

sweet.  silly.  sensitive.  sister.  i was in the carpool line to pick up susanna, brainstorming words that started with "s" for a photo album i was making for her.  i had a coupon for one of those books from shutterfly and had decided to use pictures from her portrait session back in september, and thought it would be neat to label the pages with words that started with "s" that described her.  but i needed a few more.

i pulled up to the front of the line, excited to see her.  but as she approached the car and climbed in with a frown on her face, i was reminded of how she's been the past week or so.

yep, i had another "s" word to use.  surly.

"hey honey!" i exclaimed, determined to remain upbeat, despite her foul attitude.  "how was your day?"

she just glared at me.  ooh -- another "s" word: scowling.  i was on a roll.

i don't know what's gotten into her recently, but whatever it is, i hope it leaves soon.  the girl has seriously turned into a total debbie downer.  "i don't want to go to ballet," she informs me.  "i don't like art class anymore," she declares.  "i don't want to wear the dark top that my teachers have requested i wear under my pilgrim costume and instead want to stand in front of the church in a cropped white t-shirt with my belly hanging out," she tells me.  (okay, she didn't actually say that.  but you know what they say about actions vs. words.)  she actually seems to enjoy being miserable, for no other reason than to just, well, be miserable.

but right when i was about to get on craigslist and offer her up for free in the pets section, she surprised us.  she decided she wanted to help around the house this weekend.  now, don't get me wrong -- she still wasn't back to her normal positive self -- but at least she was telling us there was something she actually wanted to do, instead of what she refused to do.

so, we agreeably put the girl to work.  it began on saturday morning, when she raced upstairs to put on some playclothes to help chris in the yard.  i saw her head out the front door and figured she might last for a minute or two, before getting bored and moving on to something more exciting.  but a half-hour later, i glanced outside to see her little head at the end of the driveway, holding a rake that was literally twice her size, with a determined gleam in her eye as she ever so slowly moved one big pile of leaves to the curb.   she stuck with the task until the bitter end -- and then asked chris if she could use the blower.  naturally, he obliged.

and she didn't stop there.  she came in and grabbed the broom from the laundry room so she could clear the steps to the deck.  later, she wanted the mop so she could clean the back porch.  when she saw chris chopping firewood in the back yard, she waltzed right on over and tried it herself.  (with, needless to say, a ton of supervision.  we might be violating child labor laws, but at least we're safe.)  and when most preschoolers might have had enough of the work and called it a day, she donned her apron and helped me cook tilapia for our sunday dinner, unloaded the kiddie cups from the dishwasher, and towel-dried the plastic bowls.  i know she was happy doing all of it, because for the first time in days, she grinned at me.   

i guess i could add slave to the "s" list, but it has such a negative connotation.  servant, perhaps?  thankfully, no matter what word i use, at least she's a smiling one.

wordless wednesday

the kids enjoyed their first-ever camping experience this past friday night.  they didn't go far for this inaugural event -- just to our back yard, in fact -- but they might as well have been deep in the wilderness hundreds of miles away, they were so excited.  i fully expected susanna to coming waltzing up the stairs to her bedroom by 10:00 p.m., but she's proving to be far less of a prisspot than her momma because she lasted the whole night.

i think chris has just begun what might be a long series of camp-outs with the kids.  and seeing as how i completely rearranged all of our closets and dressers while they were outdoors braving the elements, i'm thinking i might have this house in tip-top shape by the end of the next session.  a win-win situation, to be sure!

dining on a gourmet meal of hot dogs and macaroni and cheese, preceding their dessert of s'mores (of course) 

snuggling into their sleeping bags for storytime

 good morning!

is that a banana on your head, or are you just happy to see me?

if you have a preschool girl, chances are you're well-versed in Fancy Nancy.  for those of you who aren't familiar, fancy nancy is a children's literature series of more than thirty books, all centered around a little girl named nancy and her quest to make her ordinary life extraordinary.  ("extraordinary" would be a fancy nancy word, along with others like "wardrobe" and "iridiscent" and "fiasco".)  nancy is not only adorable teetering around in her boas and high heels and posh sunglasses, but along the way she actually teaches her readers some quite advanced (and fancy) vocabulary. 

so we were, as nancy would say, ecstatic to learn that the illustator of the fancy nancy series, robin preiss glasser, was going to visit our favorite independent bookstore in october.  i was told that ms. glasser was always a huge hit on her national book signing tours and was quite the entertainer.  susanna was encouraged to dress up in her fancy nancy finest and to arrive early for a good seat.

we had it on the calendar and were counting down the days ... but i wasn't sure what to do with liam.  i knew that chances were slim that any boy would be in the audience, and i felt like i could easily arrange a playdate for him while i took susanna.  i literally had my hand on my phone, ready to dial a friend to ask if he could come over, when i changed my mind.

susanna has attended probably 99% of liam's sports events ever since he started playing.  i'm talking individual sports, like swim lessons, golf outings, tennis clinics; and then the hundreds of practices and games  for his t-ball, indoor soccer, outdoor soccer, and basketball teams.  (not until i just typed that sentence did i realize how insanely involved in sports our son is.  whew.)   she tagged along with me twice a week for two years for his speech therapy sessions, she stayed in big church with us for every choir performance last year, and clapped along during his preschool singalongs and graduation.

and for his part, liam has been the involved older brother as well.  she's only played one organized sport, soccer (and i use the term "played" quite loosely; most of the time, she insisted on sitting on the sideline and playing with the water cooler) but he was there at her games whenever he didn't have a game of his own.  he helped transport her to ballet all last year and was the proudest sibling in the auditorium for her end-of-year recital.  when she aged into church choir this year, he couldn't wait to sit next to her during rehearsals and show her the ropes.

and this is how chris and i want it.  our children are polar opposites when it comes to interests and talents, and they will likely excel in vastly different areas as they grow and figure out where they want to focus their time.  liam is, obviously, extremely athletic, while susanna is already shining in art and music.  so it would be fairly easy for us to split up our time, carting one off in one direction and the other somewhere else, and not give them opportunities to share in their sibling's endeavors.  but for us, if we were to do that, i'm afraid we'd start to feel more like four individuals instead of a family.  i want liam to be there when susanna nails her first memorized piano performance piece, just as i want susanna to be there when liam hits his first home run.  i want them to celebrate each other's successes because they were there at the time and lived the moment -- and not later as we meet up at home and retell the story.

which is a ridiculously long backstory (sorry) of why i decided against dropping off liam at a friend's house while i took susanna to the fancy nancy book signing.  instead, we all three went -- susanna in her pink princess dress, with a flower headband in her hair, plastic high heels on her feet, and wand in her hand; liam, clutching the latest golf digest issue; and me.  susanna sashayed into the store and took a seat with her similarly-dressed friends in the front row, and hung on every word the illustrator said (who was, incidentally, decked out in a turquoise sequined gown and rhinestone tiara.)  liam sat next to me towards the back, trying to focus on his magazine but actually quite interested in what was going on. 

it wasn't until the end of the event that i knew i'd made the right decision.  after ms. glasser read the latest book in the series (fancy nancy and the fabulous fashion boutique), she showed the starstruck crowd how fancy nancy mastered the art of carrying herself like royalty.  she took a banana, perched it atop of her crowned head, and paraded up and down the aisles as she kept her back and neck perfectly still.  and as soon as she concluded her talk, dozens of bananas were passed around so the little girls could give it a whirl themselves.  

every little girl in that room immediately jumped at the chance -- except one.  susanna sat resolutely on the floor, uninterested in participating.  i have no idea why; our daughter has a stubborn streak in her that rears its ugly head from time to time, and i've given up trying to figure it out.  i knew not to press the issue, and instead began to gather our belongings so we could leave.

but all was not lost.  for when i turned around to tell liam we were ready to go, this is what i saw: 

yeah, i'm pretty sure i made the right decision. the experience would have been rather fruitless without him.

go take a hike

anyone who knows me knows that i'm not an outdoorswoman by any stretch of the imagination.  i love nature and marvel at God's creation and celebrate the plants and animals near me -- all through the window.  i will never go camping, so if our children ever have any hope of pitching a tent and sleeping under the stars, they better warm up to chris because i prefer to be snug in my bed with the heat on.

but, in an effort to compromise, i came up with the brilliant idea last weekend that we should take a family hike.  i actually enjoy walking through the woods every now and then, and as long as i'm not too far away from civilization, i knew we would have fun.  so chris did a little bit of research and printed out a map of a nearby park, and once we were dressed fairly warmly and in comfortable shoes, we set out for our adventure.

and what an adventure it turned out to be; one that i'm sure liam and susanna will be talking about for years to come.  it all started with the ill-fated decision to allow the kids to choose which trail we were going to take.  we'd started on what was basically a gravel road -- no cars allowed, but quite cleared and flat.   but liam felt like we should be doing something a bit more interesting, so at our first crossroads, he chose to take us left onto a path that was marked Loblolly Trail.

we consulted our map and surmised that it was about a two-mile walk.  it was 3:00 pm and the time had not yet changed, so we figured we'd be back at the car well before it started to get dark.  we took twists and turns, walked over bridges and over roots, stepped on rocks and climbed up hills.  (upon further scrutiny we learned that we were on one of the few trails labeled "moderate" instead of "easy".)  the kids LOVED it.  liam was the leader and susanna was the scout (not really quite sure the difference, but they relished their roles) and they always made sure we were following the blue squares nailed into the trees that guided us on our way.  "I SEE THE BLUE SQUARE!" they'd chime together.  we collected leaves and threw rocks into the creeks and talked about the animal sounds around us.

it was fun, for the first 45 minutes or so.  but then their little legs started to tire.  and soon, they started wondering how much longer we'd be walking.  shoot, i started wondering how much longer we'd be walking.  the map was of no help, and neither were the people we encountered coming from the other direction.  "are we close to the road?" liam would ask each one.  "oh, no, honey," they'd reply, "you've got a ways to go."  i tried to remain upbeat, telling the kids, "oh, i think we're almost there!", or, "it looks like the end is at the top of the hill!"  but after four or five times doing this, chris turned around and with gritted teeth requested that i knock it off.  seemed his patience was wearing as thin as the kids'.

we finally, FINALLY came to the end of the trail, which deposited us back on the gravel road where we'd begun three hours prior -- or so we thought.  we looked left.  we looked right.  we looked at the map.  and nothing looked familiar.  we asked a biker, and he gave us a quizzical look and basically told us that we were actually not where we had started at all. 

this is why i hate the outdoors, i thought.  dadgum nature.

the kids, at this point, were done.  they were exhausted, they were thirsty, and they were simply not interested in hiking any farther.  we assessed the situation and came up with two solutions: one, chris could turn around and retrace our steps for about a mile, find the car, and come pick us up.  or two, we could flag someone down in the parking area and hopefully catch a ride.  seemed that chris was also exhausted and thirsty and simply not interested in hiking any farther, because he chose option #2.

he approached a little gray VW that was leaving the parking lot and asked the driver to roll down her window.  she seemed a bit confused -- who wouldn't be, with a strange man flagging you down? -- so i joined him with the kids to show her that he was safe; simply a father whose family had gotten a little off course.  turned out that her confusion primarily rested on the fact that she was french and did not understand english all that well.  but she smiled, said that she would be happy to help us, and invited all four of us to pile in.  i could have kissed her.

she asked chris to use her GPS, and it turned out that we were so off course that the only way to get back was on the interstate.  so there we were, chris in the front seat and me with the kids in the back, and my imagination started running wild.  what have we gotten ourselves into?... we're essentially hitchhiking with this french woman named gayle we've known for all of two minutes in a rented car ... she obviously has no idea where she's going or how our highways work ... do the french even drive on the right side of the road?  oh thank goodness i think they do ... i'm in the back seat with my two children and no car seats ...  we're going to be rear-ended by someone because europeans do not know how to drive on american interstates and we're going to wind up on the side of the road and the paramedics will find us and the only person who has any sort of i.d. on her is gayle ... they're going to wonder who these other people are ... when will someone report us missing? ... and more importantly, what parents allow their 4- and 6-year olds to ride in the back of a compact car without any car seats? ...  it will make the newspapers and everyone we know will remark how horrible we are as parents and i just hope we have a chance to explain what happened because we're not normally this irresponsible and i will never, ever go hiking again.

needless to say, we survived.  we arrived back at our car, safe and sound, and profusely thanked that angel named gayle for the additional thirty minutes she spent ferrying us around raleigh on her saturday afternoon. we will go hiking again ... we'll just make absolutely sure we know where we're going next time around.

yeah, for that day, i'd have to say that hiking wasn't all that it was CRACKed up to be.   

(sorry, i just couldn't resist.)

wordless wednesday

here it is: the obligatory halloween photograph post.  a woefully lacking halloween post, however.  these are, literally, the only three pictures i took related to halloween 2010.   let me assure you ... we DID actually pick pumpkins (and not just stand in front of some.)  we DID carve them.  we DID attend parties.  we DID trick-or-treat.  liam DID come home, just like you will see susanna did, and count his loot.  we DID eat some lots and lots of candy.

but you'd never know any of that from the sad collection of photos i have of halloween 2010.  so you'll just have to take my word for it.

i laugh at myself sometimes ... a while ago, i did quite a bit of research on high-end digital SLR cameras.  seems everyone i know has one of those bad boys and they post these beautiful pictures on facebook that really capture their children so well.  gotta have me one of those! i thought.  but once i started really thinking about it, i just don't think i'm the photographing type.  almost every single picture i've ever shared on this blog was taken with my iphone.  i don't even value photography enough to remember to put my teeny tiny easy-to-carry digital camera in my purse.  so why in the sam hill would i need a $500 canon to lug around?

although i do have to say that if there were ever a time i could justify the expense, it would be after this halloween.  the grand total i spent on both of our children's costumes: $1.47.  (and that was for susanna's bandanna, which has now found a new purpose around super's neck.)

someone, please remind me next year to take some pictures.

 we picked four pumpkins this day.  trust me, they were pretty.

 the soccer player and the cowgirl, setting out for some trick-or-treat action

yes, my artistic child actually arranged her candy in concentric ovals