V-Squared: The Power of Four

Izzy's sPay Day

2023-08-19T16:18:00.000-04:00

When we moved back, we promised to get a dog ASAP, but with ice hockey schedules, school, and work schedules all unclear, I thought our best option would be to foster for a bit. This way we can save a life and get our fur-baby cuddles in.

We agreed to foster two 7-week old puppies, Romeo and Juliet. Then their sister, Kate, needed a place to stay. When the woman dropped off Kate, she mentioned that she was taking mamma, Izzy to the shelter. The shelter is a wonderful life-saving place, but an awful home for dogs to have to stay; we invited Izzy to stay with us too. That’s how we ended up with 4 foster dogs.

The puppies were all adopted out so now we’re left with Izzy. Izzy is FABULOUS FUN. She’s chill and always down to snuggle, but also loves a good game of tug-o-war or chase. She carries around her little stuffed animals and splays herself out on the floor. We love her (and no…we’re not adopting her…thanks for asking). She didn’t seem like an unloved dog. She’s VERY accustomed to sleeping in bed with people and jumping up on the couch. As soon as I lay down, she says, “I call little spoon!” And she snuggles in close. If Anne is already there she wiggles and wiggles her way in between. We were surprised she ended up homeless cause this girl clearly has a lot of love.

I recently read her back story and this is what I get out of it. Apparently she was a well-loved pet, but her owner got sick around the same time Izzy got pregnant. Izzy ended up in a kill shelter in WV so Canine Humane Network (CHN) went down and brought her to Maryland. Here she had 7 puppies at CHN, but the 8th wasn’t coming. She was rushed in for an emergency C-section, but the 8th baby died.

Recently CHN requested that I set up a spay appt for Izzy. Will asked why it wasn’t done during the C-section and I told him that maybe they needed to focus on life-saving for the puppy and just couldn’t do it. We both shrugged and scheduled the appt for this morning. So we dropped her off at a lovely vet clinic in Laurel and started home. We were about 2 minutes from our house when I confessed to Will, “I had the DUMBEST thought this morning. I was worrying that they would cut Izzy up to find out that she WAS spayed, but they just forgot to tattoo her. Then I remembered she just had a litter of babies so of course she’s not spayed…what a dumby.” Will looked confused. “Then what is that tattoo on her belly? That blue line on her stomach? What’s that?”

SCREECH!!!!!!

After a round of panic phone calls we were informed that she was indeed already free from ovaries. We called the clinic, but not in time to keep her from being sedated, but before she was cut open. So we now have a very groggy little girl who is tripping up the steps and doing the drunken lean. I had a full list of things I wanted to do today, but if I get up, she gets up to follow me around. As cute as it is to watch her try to walk, I think it's best she sleep it off. So now I’m stuck serving as a pillow for a cute little drugged up puppy.

A Party Ice Breaker

2022-05-19T02:59:00.002-04:00

I love a good themed party. I love the planning, the lists, the timelines, and the schedules. It makes my little heart happy to spend countless hours researching ideas and foods that play into a theme. I love seeing it all come together, and of course, it’s an added bonus if it brings a smile or two to my girls.

After two years of covid birthdays, Anne decided that the one and only thing she wanted to do this year was to play ice hockey. No trainers, no drills; just games she chose with a few friends. We obliged and rented the ice for an hour before it closed for the season and that was when she realized a fairly major flaw in her plan; NONE of her friends can skate. Luckily, she happens to know a whole team of fairly fabulous hockey players who she could invite to join her. These kids are all wonderful teammates and fantastic people, but she made it clear to me that these are not typical party friends. She would have to put some ground rules in place so she didn’t make them (or herself) uncomfortable.

No food. No singing. No saying the word party. No goody bags. No cake. No activities. No crafts.

She summarized it for me...

Oh, dear Anne, weird is my speciality. We set about planning this not-a-party. I tried my hardest to push Anne's boundaries of weird and Anne tried her hardest to rein me back in. Anne was firm on the "no goody bag" policy, but I found a loop hole. A piñata that contained goodies is NOT a goody bag and an activity where you hit things is always fun. I ABSOLUTELY needed to have a pinata at this not-party.

One thing we've learned living in Germany is not to piss off anyone who has a title ending in “Meister”.. Like the Eismesister… and cardboard scraps of demolished piñata littering the ice and getting stuck in the zamboni seems like a great way to piss off the Eismeister. Will insisted we still be allowed to enter the stadium after the not-party so he added a new item to my VERBOTEN list.
No Pissing Off the EisMeister

I was noodling this latest wrench with a friend and she suggested, "Why not make the piñata out of ice?"

My friend is a fricking GENIUS!

It ticked all of the boxes and allowed me to white-board, plan, AND craft!!!! Finally, I had something to plan and organize and it was Anne-approved!

We started white-boarding all of these complicated ways to create our piñata and after a few brainstorming sessions of conceptualizing and abandoning 3D printed molds, precision drilling, structurally engineered dowel rods, and form-casting balloons; we were left with a fairly simple concept using two salad bowls and some pieces of an erector set; it couldn't have been easier. We just froze a little water in the bottom of a bowl, added a second bowl, and froze it again. We added some erector-set brackets that we could use to zip tie the two halves together, and Presto! Freezo!...an ice piñata was born. This baby weighed in at about 35 pounds and we made sure to check on it hourly as it grew and matured.

We were SO excited to watch it explode.

The next step was to figure out what would go inside our massive ice cube. I was itching to break out the Cricut and make some t-shirts for everyone. It would have been adorable, but Anne put a knot in my loophole pretty quickly when she heard my idea. She felt that a custom t-shirt blurred the piñata lines and started shifting towards ersatz goody bag land. We subsequently entered into negotiations where she agreed that I could customize a product but ONLY if said product was a stress-relieving puck that could be used to throw around the locker room (because hitting things is always fun). Unfortunately, those are only available with a minimum purchase of 500 pucks and even I think that 500 might be skirting with "weird." I had to compromise by filling my masterful, ice globe with non-customized, non-Cricut'ed boring, old, no-planning-required, no-crafting-required gummy bears. *sigh*

Anne ended up having about 5 teammates join her on the ice, plus her sister. Elizabeth won’t admit it, but she LOVES playing hockey and Anne loves having Elizabeth with her on the ice.

The kids played a few games and our hour flew by. We ended the evening with the piñata. The breaking of said piñata was a little less explosive than I had envisioned, but it was still pretty cool and thanks to a brave dad, we even got some behind the net footage of the shooting.

The kids had almost given up and we were about to let the adults take a turn when...

It was a bust in the very best way possible. After it broke, I think I did hear one kid mutter his disappointment that the piñata wasn’t filled with customized clothing, but I could have mistranslated; my German isn’t great. Other than that, I think it was a successful not-party and I think I was successful at not making it too weird.

A Day Celebrating Labor Should be Laborious

2020-09-09T07:33:00.003-04:00

Since we moved to Germany Will and I have a lot more SUPER holidays. A super holiday is a day where the kids are in school, but we (now only Will) have off work. On Super Holidays Will and I like to go on long hikes, day drink, or just have a babysitter free date day. It’s a fantastic perk to living abroad.
Unsurprisingly, German schools don’t recognize Labor Day so Monday was a SUPER HOLIDAY.

For our Labor-Super Holi-day, we decided to do a hike that we have had our eye on. We would hike to the top of the Wendelstein, have a lovely leisurely lunch, and then we would take the cable car back down the mountain which would have us home almost a full hour before the kids were due back from school. Our plans were set. Of course, we thought Anne threw a wrench in our plans. Over the weekend she was playing Ginsu Warrior with a garden knife, missed a carrot, and sliced her finger which necessitated a quick trip to the ER for 4 stitches. But that girl is a trooper! I am still in awe of how she handled the whole situation.

She’s made of tougher stuff than I am for sure and she was right back to school on Monday so our super holiday was back on.

Will assured me before we left for our hike that the forecast was no longer calling for rain…a fact that he continually repeated on our hour drive as rain drops pelted the windshield. To his credit, the rain cleared up by the time we parked and the hike to the top was incredible. We took our time and chatted and even stopped to enjoy the view (and the lack of children complaining). We made it to the top in a two and half hours. It was a beautiful strenuous hike, even the low cloud cover just added to the majesty.

We had plenty of time for a quiet lunch with a view. We ordered our food and then realized that they didn’t take Visa. This is a rookie mistake; even in Corona times where more cards are accepted, you have to carry a lot of cash in Germany. Mountain huts tend to be a little more expensive since they have to ship in all of the supplies, so we had to use almost all of our cash at lunch. We had 10 Euros left and one cable car ticket was 16. Thanks to distance learning and my refreshed math skills, I was able to calculate that we didn’t have enough cash for our ride back down the mountain. I assured Will not to stress; I was confident that cable car would take visa or there would be an ATM machine. This was a big tourist and skiing area and they wanted our money. No big deal.

We took our time and chatted over lunch, but were still on track to be home well before the girls. We made our way to the cable car and started to panic when the touristy section of the station was closed. CLOSED. No gift shop. No ATM machine. No penny-flattening machine. My palms started to sweat as we made our way to the cable car kiosk where a large sign advertised “CASH or GERMAN EC CARD only.” We panic-shoved our things back in our bags and took off. The large board outside said it was a chilly 6 degrees Celsius, but the rain that started pouring down as soon as we stepped out of the cable car building made it feel more like 0 and it turned our already slick trail into a vertical ice rink. No problem. We would just go a little more slowly and get to the bottom. No big deal. That’s when the phone rang and of course, it was the school. Anne needed to come home. When she got on the phone the saddest little, “Hi Mom” broke my heart. I broke her heart back when I told her she just had to wait it out and we chatted for a bit as I slipped down the mountain. The power of parental-guilt propelled us down the mountain and we made it in record time back home to greet a sad little Anne and her throbbing finger.

This super holiday ended up being fantastic. Will and I had a great workout and a lot of fun. The extra adrenaline made the whole thing more of an adventure. We also learned few lessons that we aren’t likely to forget soon. I think for the next super holiday we should bake in the adrenaline-rush...maybe paragliding

Quarancation 3: Iceland

2020-04-15T15:09:00.000-04:00

Our Spring Break was supposed to be in Scotland, but we realized our summer trip to Iceland would likely be scrapped too. I decided we would get ahead of our loss and plan a camping trip to Iceland. I am not gonna lie, this was a pretty lamely planned stay-cation.

We started out with a Youtube tour to see all of the sights. One of the big things we would have done in Iceland was to hike, so we hiked. We took a 14km hike around our town. The whole time I would exclaim ridiculous things like, "Oh Iceland is gorgeous." or "Wow, doesn't Icelandic sound so funny? I can't understand a word anyone is saying." The girls weren't fooled by my clever ruse, but they were good sports about the whole thing.

After our hike, we pitched a tent so we could sleep under the aurora borealis. Luckily Santa brought me a projector for Christmas so we used it to project YouTube videos of the Icelandic skyline on the top of the tent.

Even though it wasn't really Iceland, I think our local area is still a lovely place to tour and we're pretty grateful to be stuck here!

Quarancation 2: NASA Training Camp

2020-04-10T11:52:00.004-04:00

Between Space X and NASA news, space is getting some renewed interest and we are LOVING it. For today's staycation, we decided to head to NASA training camp. This was easily the best stay-cation to plan because NASA has so many incredible ideas on their website. You can just download a packet filled with ideas and activities. No brain power necessary!

We started off the day learning how astronauts train. Then we jumped into physical fitness on an Agility course followed by a jog to get that heart in tip-top shape for take-off.

Once we were all worked out and ready to focus, our mission for the day was to launch a rocket into space and then successfully bring the astronauts back to Earth. We decided to create rockets using the tried and true baking soda and vinegar method. Before we began, Will gave a riveting lecture on propellants, chemical reactions, and thrust. All the kids heard was something about an explosion.

We set to work and we made a lot of messes and had a lot of aborted or failed launches.

Some of our rockets were moderately successful.

But after a lot of trial and err, we found the perfect launch sequence that lead to this beautiful moment of landing a rocket onto our neighbor's porch.

Our next job was to land our astronauts. We substituted real people for gummy bears or marshmallows. Anne would do a lot of preserve the life and integrity of a marshmallow. First they had to brainstorm their designs. Anne's original concept was a fairly unconventional landing on a stuffed animal and Elizabeth's initial (and abandoned) concepts involved a lot of coffee filters for one and as a mini-trampoline deployed in the ocean.

In the end, Elizabeth settled on using a lot of plastic bags and they spent a good hour launching them from every elevation that they could find.

Designing and building the launchers took WAY more time than I thought they would. The girls LOVED building them and they actually created a few designs and models. It took up a large portion of our day so we didn't have much time for everything on our plans. We had just enough time to drive the Rover. Of course, any scientist knows that the most important part of their work is documentation so the girls documented the day in Canva before we all settled in for a screening of Apollo 13. That movie gets me EVERY time!

So we all passed NASA training camp and we will patiently wait for a call from Elon to join his team to Mars.

Quarancation Day 1: Our Virtual Trip to Rome

2020-04-05T14:41:00.002-04:00

After three weeks of quarantine, we are definitely getting a little stir-crazy. Thanks to Google Calendar, we were all reminded yesterday that we should have been landing in Scotland and I think it hit hard. I decided to stave off the blues by planning some staycations. Stay-cations seem so simple to plan until you see that there is so much content to sort through to find things that are entertaining and informative. It's really overwhelming.

Our first trip was to Rome.

Itinerary for seeing Rome without getting on a plane.

Roman Forum: I told the girls that every time we go on vacation we do horrible walking tours that they hate and this stay-cation would be no exception. We started with YouTube videos on the Roman Forum and I highly encouraged walking in place and whining so we got the full vacation experience. We started with this video, but it was so long and kind of dull so we swapped over to a quick Rick Steve's video.
Toga Time: Everyone got dressed up in their own toga to get into the spirit...and to help prepare them for college. You never know when toga wrapping experience will come in handy.

Colosseum: We watched a quick video on the Colosseum and then used our imagination to turn the living room into the the theater.
Myth Buster: Everyone had to write their own Roman myths and present them at the Colosseum for everyone. We all voted for the worst orator who would then be fed to the tigers.

Games: The losing orator had to wrestle with a tiger and then the gladiators fought it out.

Mosaics: We saw beautiful mosaics and frescos on our walking tour of Rome. We were so inspired that we created our own.

Tiber River: We took a walk to the Tiber River. It was freezing, but you never would have known it watching the girls wade in to look for rocks.

Dinner: Some delicious Mediterranean takeout
Movie Time: Topped off the evening with a movie that was Rome-adjacent. We landed on the Lizzie McGuire movie. Twenty minutes in I started receiving these texts from Will with things like, "Dear God this is awful" or "How much longer to this horribleness ends?"..both the horrible movie and the texts continued for the next hour and 32 minutes.
Scrap-booking: Lastly, we ended the day with the kids on www.canva.com documenting their trip. Interestingly, no one mentioned our in-place walking tour as a highlight of the vacation. I know, I'm just as surprised as you are.

Our first staycation was a relative success. It wasn't too much work to plan and I didn't decorate, but we did enough that it broke the monotony of quarantining.

Meeting Neighbors and Inventing Excitement

2019-12-11T15:49:00.000-05:00

Anne is my big kitchen helper. Every night when it's time to make dinner she drops what she's doing pushes up her sleeves and buries her hands in raw hamburger mixture. It's the one time Anne stays on task and we have a great time. Elizabeth is a different case. She doesn't enjoy cooking unless it's some ridiculousness she saw on Nailed It. I wasn't optimistic when she insisted on helping me make Christmas cookies today. Her first task was to find Cream of Tartar. Two minutes later she was reading on the couch. "What happened?" I asked her. "Oh, your spice drawer is so confusing, I lose interest quickly." We were already off to an amazing start. I set her up with the recipe and the ingredients. TWENTY MINUTES later she had only managed to measure 2 cups of flour into a bowl. Twenty. Long. Minutes.

I needed to find myself a distraction so I didn't take over her work and crush her little spirit. There have been two backpacks sitting outside my front door for three days now. I decided this was a good time to find their owner. It's a nice way to meet neighbors, practice my German, and MOST importantly get rid of the bags without having to put them in MY trash. In Germany, each family is only permitted a thimble full of trash a month and I was reserving my thimble to surreptitiously throw out Will's collection of broken and surplus electronics. So off I went, knocking on doors. No one claimed the bags so my neighbor and I decided to do some sleuthing to see if there was an address or ID card in it. The two bags were stuffed with:

One large blanket
An empty knock-off purse
Three pairs of straight-up hooker shoes: Electric blue platform stillettos
One pair of ugly sensible shoes
And a list of names next to a train station name

Again, I have watched EVERY episode of the original Law and Order so I am an expert detective; I immediately knew exactly what happened. This backpack belonged to a prostitute who was trying to escape her pimp. I think my neighbor was thinking the same thing. Her first reaction was to suggest I call the police. I think this neighbor might be my kindred spirit and I was SO excited, but I was also NOT going to call the police in a foreign country. The police informed her that they had other things to do, but we were welcome to bring the bag into the station. It was at this point that I lost a bit of interest and went back inside to help Elizabeth make cookies. Since the police weren't coming, I made a mental note to go out and snap some photos of those crazy shoes outside to show Will, but it turns out that the police DIDN'T have anything better to do in our little town. Not 5 minutes later, they knocked on my door to get the scoop and pick up the bag. And just like that, my mystery was over for me. I'll be honest, it wasn't the most exciting ending to my made-up drama.

We made it to Germany!

2019-03-23T16:55:00.001-04:00

For the second year in a row, Will and I have spent our wedding anniversary landing in Europe!!!!! March 22nd of 2018, we landed in England and that trip sparked our desire to move back overseas.
On March 22nd 2019, we left a cold and rainy Baltimore and landed in sunny 70 degree Munich!
The flight was simple, but tiring nonetheless. Everyone but Elizabeth managed at least an hour nap, but we still landed in Germany at 7:30am pretty tired and foggy. We met some new friends at the airport and headed by train to our new home in Wolfratshausen, Germany. On the way we got an eyeful of some breathtaking scenery that included German and Austrian alps.

The first day was familiarizing ourselves with our new house and getting some of our essentials together. The travel and lack of sleeping was starting to hit us all, but Elizabeth definitely had it the worst. We were quite the spectacle at lunch with Elizabeth falling asleep sitting up and Anne trying to melt herself onto any flat surface for a nap. Somehow, we all made it to 7pm before we all collapsed into our beds. Anne, Will, and I were up at 1am and had a little quality time together until we went back to sleep around 3, but Elizabeth slept like a champ from 8pm until Will woke her up at 8am.

The next morning, a day spent sitting with no exercise or movement really showed on the kids. They were up and raring to go! Anne was bouncing around the house and would randomly and alarming just shout out for no reason, “AHhhhhh!!!!” Will and I had to practice a lot of calming breaths before we gave in and took them to the playground to get out some energy and we discovered a trail that leads to a fantastic river and beach. We could actually take the trail for 34km to Munich if we are ever feeling ambitious. The Naturewalk was amazing. The only nature we saw were some birds and a lot of naked sunbathers. Elizabeth wants to warn everyone before they come here that you’re likely to see full nudity along the beach :)

In the afternoon, we headed into town. Wolfratshausen is a fairly large town, but has so many spaces for walking or relaxation. On our walk we mapped out restaurants and beer gardens and stopped for some ice cream at the local EisCafe. Elizabeth marveled at the many small children who were biking or walking without an adult in sight.

Wolfratshausen has a very different vibe from Wiesbaden. It's going to be an adventure getting used to Bavaria.

Help me feed subscribers. You're my only hope

2019-02-03T12:08:00.000-05:00

It was the perfect storm of stupidity and now all of my blogs (3 years of the girls stories growing up) are gone. The girls didn't like the world to know their business so I stopped blogging and posting so much and deleted my old blogs. I backed them all up on my computer. Two years later, every file got wiped from that computer (not placing any blame or naming names, but Will is pretty lucky he's cute and I'm shallow).
There is no way to recover deleted blogs. I've tried Google cache, internet caches, begging Google, finding the PostID from Facebook/google+ and I can't manage it. There is one more hope...it's you.

If you subscribed to this blog using the RSS feed, you might have the content in your inbox. Thanks to Google+ I know the dates and titles of everything I'm missing. If you have a spare moment, would you be willing to look in your e-mail inbox for anything from my blog (ericavv.blogspot) and send it my way. I'm looking for anything before June of 2014 and we would all be forever in your debt if you helped us recover some of these memories.

May 2, 2014: Florida is a great place to visit....
Mar 21, 2014: 365 more days until we hit the 7 year itch
Feb 3, 2014: Stitch doesn't have a brave face. She's just brave
Dec 25, 2013: I'm a mean one, Mrs. Grinch. I really am a heel
Jan 25, 2014: Making drama everywhere I go
Jan 5, 2014: Hearing protection isn't just for the gun range
Dec 11, 2013: Back to reality
Dec 11, 2013: Foul mouths and guilt consciences
Nov 19, 2013: Babies and Biological Warfare
Oct 29. 2013: Alarms are alarming
Nov 7, 2013: Magical Manner Fairy
Oct 27. 2013: Back to the Daily Grind
Nov 2, 2013: hoas-eliminating-fuschia-siding and neighborhood harmony
Oct 27, 2013: Back to the Daily Grind
Oct 28, 2013: Back to the Daily Grind, Take 2
Sep 26, 2013: The peanut gallery got a little mean today
Sep 15, 2013: What not to wear: Mommy edition
Aug 20, 2013: What one gets, so must the other
Aug 13, 2013: Has there been a study on the correlation between shopping trips and divorce rates?
July 29, 2013: Amazon delivery fee is the perfect husband-training tool
July 11, 2013: Is this driving school?
July 7, 2013: E's war on wine
July 6, 2013: 4th-of-july-trip-to-manlius-ny
July 6, 2013: Variety is the spice of diaper choosing
Jul 6, 2013: I lost my Mommy-mojo
Jun 12, 2013: Parenthood has redefined fear for me
Jun 23, 2013: Moving in
May 26, 2013: Love, wedding, and cake: A perfect marriage
Jun 19, 2013: We're officially home owners
May 21, 2013: Getting settled and learning French
May 2, 2013: Back in the USA!
Apr 24, 2013: Getting ready to say 'Auf Wiedersehen' to Germany
Apr 18, 2014: Two week jitters are setting in
Mar 21, 2013: It doesn't just take two to make a marriage work
Mar 19, 2013: Anne's antics
Mar 13, 2013: The Streak!
Mar 8, 2013: Unlimited Love and Limited Time
Feb 7, 2013: It's a Chocolate for Breakfast Kind of Day
Feb 18, 2013: Prague has PUPPETS
Jan 10, 2013: Meine Nachbarn
Feb 4, 2013: Be it ever so stinky, there's no place like home
Jan 7, 2013: Maybe it's not all bad
Jan 24, 2013: Bait and Hit
Jan 17, 2013: ...And the world continues to spin
Dec 29, 2012: I need a break or a break-down
Dec 25, 2012: A Very Vander Voort Christmas
Dec 20, 2012: Sometimes you just have to say jerk
Dec 14, 2012: Edible Ornaments
Nov 27, 2012: Anne's first shiner
Nov 26, 2012: our-thanksgiving-trip-to-munich
Nov 9, 2012: A day to be thankful for
Oct 26, 2012: Potty training kid #2: Attempt 1
Oct 26, 2012: Family bed aren't for me
Oct 13, 2012: Going off the grid...kind of
Oct 4, 2012: The Life of a Hermit Seems Ideal Right now
Sep 25, 2012: Sleep training win
Sep 17, 2012: you-might-be-psychopath-if
Sep 7, 2012: It might be time for a hobby
Sep 2, 2012: Our med cruise
Aug 8, 2012: Culture Clash: Healthcare Edition
July 11, 2012: Jennifer's visit: The Curse of Heidelberg
July 2, 2012: Jennifer's visit: Week 1 and 2
Jul 26. 2012: The power of the written word
July 19, 2012: Why kids need a mute button...or duct tape
Jun 4, 2012: what-we-have-here-is-failure-to communiate
May 30, 2012: Sleep and Poop...it's all I talk about
May 14, 2012: Rear facing car seats for infinity
May 3, 2012: Happy birthday to Anne
Apr 25, 2012: what-do-i-have-to-do-to-get-some attention around here
Apr 23, 2012: Lanzarote Part Two: Our vacation
Apr 23, 2012: Lazarote Park One: Getting there
Apr 5, 2012: Eww...gag me with a piece of cauliflower
Mar 23, 2012: 4 years of relative bliss
Mar 16, 2012: Jogging and cake don't mix....or is it jogging and kids?
Mar 12, 2012: Chore Wars
Mar 1, 2012: Will is stepping out on me

PSA: Get your skin checked!

2018-02-24T20:03:00.002-05:00

Public Service Announcement: Get your skin checked, wear sunscreen, grab a hat!

Several months ago I noticed a spot on my lip that didn’t seem to go away. The dermatologist tried freezing it a few times, but when that didn’t work a biopsy confirmed basal cell carcinoma. Basal cell carcinoma is 100% treatable and rarely spreads, in other words, if you have to get cancer, this is the best one to get. A simple procedure called Mohs’ Surgery takes care of it all. Moh’s surgery is designed to get rid of 100% of the cancer and leave as much as the healthy skin as possible. To accomplish this, they cut out the cancer and then do a biopsy to see if there is still cancer along the edge. If there is, they cut again, biopsy again, and repeat. It can take several cuts and the biopsy takes about an hour in-between. They recommend you plan to spend 5-8 hours at the office.

The day of, I prepped well. I was in it for the long haul! I packed a bag with knitting, books, my laptop, and a handful of articles I’ve been wanting to read. Because this wasn’t a big deal, and I'm a proud independant woman, and I didn’t want to inconvenience anyone, I made arrangements to ride the metro there and back. I was really discounting my irrational side as I made my plans. I was pretty anxious the week before the surgery. What if they found more. What if they found melanoma. What if I come out looking like Frankenstein? Cancer is scary….even if it’s the nicest form of cancer there is. So I changed all of our plans the day before, sent the girls to a friend’s house and had Will drive me to my appointment. Will deals with change the same way I deal with cancer; it was not the most pleasant of drives and it involved a fair bit of sniping.

Dr. Marisa Braun and her team at Braun Dermatology were amazing. The staff was friendly and efficient. They made sure I understood everything and answered all of my questions before we began. I thought I felt calm and ready, but after Dr Marisa did the first round of cutting, she cauterized the wound. It didn’t hurt. I’m not sure if it was the smell of burning flesh, the thought of being burned, or the relief of getting rid of cancer, but I freaked out. My whole body started shaking and I started sobbing. She had to stop cauterizing and I sat up on the table and swung around flinging blood from the gaping hole in my face. I probably had a wild-eyed look of a rabid panicked dog, but Dr. Marisa and the nurse were very patient and calm in the face of my crazy. I am very grateful to have found them for this procedure.

I had an hour in between each cutting. I didn’t want to exhaust everything I brought with me for entertainment so in between one cut and the next, I called into a meeting at work. In between the next set, I looked at a 3D printing project. I had just exhausted all of my non-packed entertainment options and was getting ready to dig in my heels for the long haul when I was called back in for the third cut. Imagine my delight when they told me it wasn’t needed. I was now 100% cancer free and it only took two rounds!!!! I had planned to be there until 5 and I was out before noon.

They took off the bandage so I could get a look at the damage. When I remarked how large it was, Dr Braun reassured me that this was TEENY compared to what she usually has to take off. Translation: I’m lucky! And I definitely appreciate how fortunate I am. Dr Braun gave me a few rows of internal and external stitches and sent me on my way. This is when I realized another flaw in my independence plan…the jostling and bumpy metro ride was perfectly timed with the fading of my local anesthetic.

The doctor’s office warned me of swelling, but I really pictured this to be more like mole removal and not REAL surgery. I was shocked at how quickly my lip swelled up when I got home. The icing and the Advil helped to keep it down, but it was still pretty large. I guess it was a shock when I got the girls off the bus. Anne refused to look at me. I explained to her that it was just a band-aid and a little cut but she couldn’t bring herself to look in my direction. She finally went outside and stood all alone in the rain for 20 minutes while she processed it. She came back into the house and gave me a hug. Elizabeth processed through painting. She made me a lovely water-color to commemorate the occasion.

I'm still pretty swollen and sore, but I'm so pleased with the outcome (and my family is pleased that I can't talk much thanks to the swelling). I think once the swelling goes down, you'll have to get VERY close to me to even see that I have them on face. I'll say it one more time, Dr. Braun was INCREDIBLE!!!!!!

So this is me: skin cancer-free. To stay that way, I will be getting check-ups every 6 months, but I’ll remind you to get yours annually too! The damage to my skin could have been years ago (although I think it was probably from a particularly bad burn on my honeymoon), so Will and I are going to be more diligent with the girls' skin too.

Big thanks to the friends who helped us out with the girls this week! And thanks to friends and family for your thoughts, well-wishes, and distractions.

Coochy Coochy Coo

2016-05-25T22:17:00.000-04:00

Anne LOVES her puppy, Nash. LOVES. HIM. She snuggles him and pets him and talks baby to him. A while ago, she was sprawled across him, scratching his ears, and crooning, "I love my Nashy. He's my Cutie Puppy. My Cutsy Cutie Puppy. My Coochy Cutie Puppy. Coochy puppy. Coochy. Coochy." and just like that, Nash had a new nickname, Coochy.

Anne is usually chattering away and I've gotten really good at tuning her out. She was rambling on the other day about how great her dog was and how much she loved him when Will snorted to hide a laugh. I tuned in to Anne's chatter box, "I love to pet my Coochy." My Coochy is so soft." I leaned in and whispered to Will, "Should we tell her?" "Who cares?" Will responded, so we let it go thinking that she would wake up the next day and forget her new term of endearment for Nash, but not Anne. This phase went on and on and on. Every morning she'd greet Nash with a huge hug and, "MY COOCHY!!!!" We let this "phase" go on forever, at least until she went to friend's house and told her friend's parents all about her soft furry coochy. Time for this phase to end. I figured the next time the subject came up, I would just nonchalantly tell her what that word means and we would just move on.

The perfect opportunity came as we were driving to the store. Anne said she couldn't wait to get home to see her coochy. The car is a great place for meaningful, heartfelt conversations like this. The kids are strapped into their seats. They can't go anywhere. There is very little to distract them. It was perfect. I was nonchalant. I was calm. I was matter-of-fact. "Anne, do you know something funny. Some people don't like to say the word vagina so they call a vagina a coochy." There. I did it. It was out of my mouth. I didn't make a big deal out of it. We could move right along. Right? Who am I fooling?

Elizabeth mulled it over as we got out of the car and started walking into Target and then she started talking....LOUDLY. "Why would anyone call their vagina a coochy?!?!?!?!?!? What's wrong with the word VAGINA????? It's just like the word nose. If you say NOSE, you can say VAGINA." People were looking. This is when I realized that I am part of the problem. "Yep," I said aloud, "it's silly" but I was hunkering down and almost running with the cart. By the time we got into the store and started shopping, Elizabeth had processed it all and Anne thought it was all good fun. Anne went on and on and how much she missed her Coochy. Every time she would say Coochy, Elizabeth would remind her what it meant and then tell her not to say it. It took Elizabeth two full aisles of correcting Anne before she resigned herself to the fact that Anne is Anne and just doesn't comply. It took Anne one more aisle to realize that no one cared that she was saying Coochy anymore. It took me a few glasses of wine to get over that shopping trip.

The Witching Hour

2016-03-05T21:24:00.002-05:00

In the wee hours of the morning, Anne crawled into my bed. Just as I was falling back asleep, I heard her say something. She had to repeat it 4 or 5 times before it broke through my sleepy haze, “Mom, I keep seeing black things walking into the bedroom.” That got my attention. I sat up and saw nothing. So I just cuddled her tight and told her to go back to sleep.
Anne covered her head with the blanket and tried to go back to sleep until it got too hot and she popped her head back out. She looked into the hallway again, “Mom, I’m a little scared. See, she just turned her head to look at me. Did you see? She’s by the desk in the office.” Assigning a gender to the previously shapeless blob made it a little eerier for me and I was starting to get a little nervous. I sat up and searched where she was looking for anything, any shadow, any piece of furniture that could possibly be construed as human-like so I could logically and rationally explain what she was seeing. I came up blank. I decided to get up and turn on the light. As I started to climb out of bed, Anne’s arm shot across me protectively, “No, mom. I want to go with you. I don’t think you should go alone.”
Now I was officially freaked out so I closed the bedroom door. Out of sight, out of mind. That worked until this morning. The alarm went off and first thing Anne asked, “Mom. how can we sneak past the witch to get downstairs?” I flipped on the office light and Anne started laughing. “Oh. I’m so silly. It was just a shadow. I thought this screen was a hand but it’s not.”

I may never walk into my office again.

Bagel Bin Day

2016-02-24T22:47:00.005-05:00

About once a week, I like to take the girls to Bagel Bin for breakfast. I look forward to those days. All I have to do is get the girls dressed, teeth brushed, hair combed, and out the door. No need to pack lunches, snacks, or make breakfasts because Bagel Bin does that for me. No fuss. No messes to clean up. We can be up and out the door in 30 minutes on Bagel Bin days. I consider it my own personal life hack. Bagel Bin Day is one of my favorite days of the work week.

TODAY was my Bagel Bin day. Anne was up and dressed in no time flat (the promise of sweet treats does wonders for her motivation), but Elizabeth was just not feeling it today. She was slow to wake up and then she was SO STARVING that she couldn’t possibly locate the energy to put on pants and a shirt until she had food; Anne and I had some time to kill. While Elizabeth was eating, I walked into the playroom and saw that my brand new WHITE Pottery Barn craft table was now sported a ginormous oil pastel signature. “ANNE! I’m in the playroom. WHY AM I ANGRY?” This is a game I like to play with the kids to see if they really didn't recognize that they did something dumb. Elizabeth almost always knows exactly what I'm talking about and rushes to fix it and apologize. Anne knows, but her poker face is the best and this kid is all about denial. Anne walked into the playroom. She looked at her name written on my brand new WHITE table and then looked at me all wide-eyed and innocent, “I don’t know. Why are you angry?” She finally conceded that her leaving her mark on my new table MAY be the cause of my apparent irrational emotions and she fetched a paper towel to remedy the situation. This is when we learned that oil pastels do not wash nicely off of my brand new white table. I grabbed the dish soap and poured it onto the table and we started scrubbing. We got it mostly clean, but if we didn’t leave soon, we were going to miss Bagel Bin day…and it’s my FAVORITE day of the week. I gave up scrubbing and just started to try to rinse off the mountain of suds on the table. I stepped out of the room to rinse out my rag and when I walked back in, Anne’s “helping clean it” by dumping the entire bottle of dish soap on the table. Grrrrrrrrr. Back to square one. The only thing harder than soap to clean is raw egg. I did not have a happy heart as I started to slough off the suds.

I managed to get most of the suds off of the table and at 7:45, I left Anne with one rinsed out dish cloth, firm instructions NOT to put ANY more soap on the table, and a final lecture on writing on furniture. I ran upstairs, got dressed and walked back down the stairs at 7:46. As I was walking down the stairs Anne was so excited, “Mom, I found a great way to rinse off the table. It's MUCH better. I get water from the sink and I dump it onto the table and then I use a dry cloth. It’s like magic,” Oh dear Lord. “Anne, are you making a mess?” “Nope, none of it’s getting on the floor,” she says just as I turn the corner and see her dumping an entire cup of water onto the table. Nope, none of it got on the floor…because the water fall is perfectly directed into the rolling storage carts underneath the table....the rolling carts that are used to store puzzles and paper which were now enjoying their own personal indoor pool courtesy of Anne.

So maybe Bagel Bin day isn't mess-free, but at noon when I unpacked my beautifully-crafted roast beef sandwich on a jalapeno bagel, I was decided that Bagel Bin is my favorite day...especially when the morning is full of mess and fuss!

Holiday Frivalty

2015-11-26T10:21:00.000-05:00

We got a huge box of fancy new Christmas lights. I mean, they are all kinds of high tech; they can go in waves, sequential, slo glo, chase, twinkle, and more. We bought 10 packs of these lights and they can be daisy-chained together. However, each string has its own control box so for the lights to be in the same mode, you have to turn each individual string to the proper setting on its own. This brought out the electrician in Will and with his eyes all aglow he said, “Hey babe, if you don’t mind me doing an electronic project, I could string a few of these together and get them on one control. What do you think?” I thought about it for a minute, “I don’t think that’s really necessary. It would probably be a waste of time, but if you really want to…” Deflated, he said, “Oh ok. I guess so.”

A dejected Will grabbed his cup of coffee and sat down next to me. “What are you doing by the way?” “Me? Oh...I am just sewing this dishcloth to our fruit basket so that I have a cute way to put the silverware out for our Friendsgiving Feast tomorrow.” Will looked a little confused. “I thought you liked that fruit basket. You don’t want to use it anymore?” Now it was my turn to be confused, “No, of course I still want to use it. This is just for tomorrow; I’m just sewing this on here for tomorrow and then I’ll take it back off.”

Without a word, he left the table. He returned with a set of wire cutters, some electrical tape, and three strings of lights. Grateful for my kind, caring, patient and handy husband.

I scream. You scream. We all scream...and it doesn't seem to improve behavior

2015-11-05T21:06:00.001-05:00

One year later and I still haven’t figured out how to do mornings.

Willard and I are very different parents. We think differently. We respond differently. We have different habits and routines. For the most part, we just accept that each of us has our own way and that neither is better. The exception is our morning routines. Will is on a constant crusade to have me mirror my morning routine after his.
Will wakes up at exactly 6:00. He goes downstairs and makes his coffee, packs the girls lunch, puts all backpacks and gear for the day in the car and then sits and quietly sips on his coffee while catching up on the news. At exactly 7:30, he wakes up Elizabeth (Anne is an early riser), feeds the girls breakfast, and takes them upstairs to help them get dressed. They’re ready by 8 and have 30 minutes to play before he ushers them out the door, well-prepared for a day at school.

I’m a little less organized and prepared. I HATE waking up and I refuse to get out of bed any earlier than I ABSOLUTELY have to. So typically, my alarm goes off at 7, I get up at 7:30 and usually don't get around to waking up the girls at about 7:40 or 7:45

There are some days where our morning is smooth sailing. One particular morning that comes to mind, Anne was up early and she and I played some puzzles until it was time to wake Elizabeth up. We went up into her room and we all laid in Elizabeth’s bed just chatting and giggling for about 20 minutes. We laughed and played our way through breakfast and prepping for school. We happily started out the door when suddenly I realized that I had completely forgotten to pack the girls’ lunch. As I was grabbing things out of the fridge, Elizabeth came running up to me, “What can I do to help? Did you get the lunch boxes yet? I’ll get them.” And she jumped right into action. I just stood dumb-founded. “What can I do to help” is a phrase I have been trying to get my husband to use for years and Elizabeth just so naturally jumped in to help. That morning warmed my heart and is not one I’m not likely to forget anytime soon.

But most mornings aren’t so smooth. By the time I wake the girls up it’s all GO TIME!!! Elizabeth is whiny and sleepy while I’m trying to shove food into her mouth. Anne just likes making her sister cry so she’ll poke and laugh and tease until Elizabeth whines and cries some more. They procrastinate. I prompt them to focus. They whine. I prompt them to focus. They bicker. I prompt them to focus. They fight. I prompt them to focus. They procrastinate some more. Then I YELL. I yell at them to brush to their teeth. I yell at them to GET DRESSED. I yell at them to “JUST FIND THEIR SHOES FOR GOODNESS SAKE. JUST DO IT LIKE I ASKED YOU TWENTY TIMES TO DO.” Then I yell at them to JUST GET OUT THE DOOR!!!!” As soon as we get out of the door, those mornings just disappear from my mind, but it turns out that they make an impact on the kids.
Driving home one day Elizabeth said, “Mom, I noticed that you have been yelling a lot lately, especially in the morning. I don’t like it and I would like you to stop.” She didn’t whine or cry. She just very matter-of-factly declared that Mommy has been acting a lot like an irrational asshole. “I noticed that too, Elizabeth, and I don’t like it either. I also noticed that you and your sister are fighting more and you don’t listen to me so how can we solve this problem. What can I do when you don’t listen to me after I ask you to do something 20 times? How can I get you to listen to me?” This was my way of telling her that I was only acting like an irrational asshole because she and Anne were acting like irrational assholes. She thought about it for a minute and said, “Well, maybe you can give us con—cones—consequences when we don’t listen. We’re just kids so we forget, but that doesn’t mean you should just yell at us.”

Sometimes she is so grown up. I learn a lot from that little dear, and I guess it’s time for me to learn from Will too. It's been a week since our chat and so far, she's right. It is WAY easier.

Anybody who has something sensible or worthwhile to say should be able to say it calmly and soberly, relying on the words themselves to convey his meaning, without resorting to yelling. -Richard Dawkins

Flying away to Pixie Hollow

2015-02-28T08:39:00.000-05:00

Elizabeth believes in fairies. She doesn’t believe in monsters, giants, witches, or superheroes, but she believes in fairies with every fiber of her being and every ounce of her soul. For Elizabeth’s birthday, Anne bought her a necklace that has a vial of pixie dust attached to it.
Apparently, a small group of girls has been planning on using the pixie dust to fly to Pixie Hollow. I thought that would be a fun play date so I sent out invites. I didn't realize that they all REALLY thought they could fly to Pixie Hollow! One parent said his daughter has been packing a bag every night and then crying when she would still wake up in her own bed. Apparently, Elizabeth is VERY convincing. I had to make a few more plans to stave off disappointment when the girls realized this was just pretend. We set up the basement to be our own version of Pixie Hollow. Elizabeth was sure that she wouldn't need it, but she thought it was prudent to have a back-up plan...just in case.

The day of the playdate, Elizabeth thought it wise to test her pixie dust before her friends came so she would know how to use it. She didn't want to be embarrassed by poor flight skills. Just a little sprinkle was all it would take.

Originally this was going to be a solo flight, but Elizabeth decided she should share this experience with Anne.

She had the hope and trust and she waited for the dust to kick in. She looked like she was ready to burst with excitement as she asked, "Anne, do you feel yourself getting lighter? I think my feet are almost off the ground."

She tried SO hard to make it work. She stood on her tip toes and stretched as far as she could, but she was still grounded. As a last ditch effort she went to jump off the couch. She jumped off once and landed on the floor. She jumped off a second time and landed on the floor. The third time I watched her face full of determination. She balled her little fists and reassured herself under her breath, "I can fly. I can do this. I can fly. I can fly. I'm going to Never Land."

She put all her faith in that jump. Years of watching Disney movies almost made me believe that this time it would work and my heart stopped a little when she landed on the ground. When she landed in a heap on the floor she looked up at me. Her look told me that was when she realized that she really wasn't going to Pixie Hollow today. It kind of broke my heart. She was a trooper though. She told me that maybe her pixie dust was too old...but she still believes!

When the guests arrived, some of them also brought luggage for their flight. Elizabeth had to break the news to them that they would be staying in Maryland for the day. The girls ended up having a regular plain-old play date, but still seemed to enjoy themselves. At the end of the playdate, the decided they would all hunt for REAL fairy dust and next year they would go to Pixie Hollow, "NO MATTER WHAT.'

A fairy house in our own Pixie Hollow

Another fairy house in Pixie Hollow

Mermaid Lagoon

Capt Hook and the Jolly Roger

Making Valentine's with an unhappy heart and a half-assed effort

2015-02-18T20:32:00.001-05:00

A friend of mine likes to tell her kids, "If you don't do it with a happy heart, you might as well not do it at all." I thought of that phrase a lot as we lead up to Valentine's Day this year.

Every night, Elizabeth diligently worked on Valentines for each of the 30 of her school friends. She would decide who each one would be for before she started and she was careful to cater the drawing on it to her friend's interests. She put her heart into this project. And then there's Anne. Anne had absolutely no interest in this activity. She's more than happy to make Valentines, but not for her school friends. She made one after another for cousins, aunts, and uncles. After she made one for every relative, pet, and household appliance in sight, I thought for sure she would buckle down and start making them for her school friends. We sat down for our fourth Valentine-making session. "Anne, now it's time to start making them for your school friends, ok?" As usual, Anne had other ideas. "No, I think I'll make them for your work friends, Mom. They would be so happy if I made them Valentines. How do you spell Leighann?" Elizabeth has mastered the patronizing look and tone, "Anne, you need to make them for your school friends! You haven't done ANY and look at my list. It's almost done." Anne still wasn't convinced. "Nope! I will do those later. Mom's work friends don't have any Valentines. HOW DO YOU SPELL Leighann?" Anne had the look on her face that I knew meant she was ready for a fight. I had no interest in fighting. Engaging in this battle was lose-lose for me, even if I won the battle of wills, we'd both be worse off and if I lost the battle of wills, I looked like a chump, but that doesn't mean I couldn't try trickery. "Ok. Leighann is L-I-A-M." She wrote L and then she stopped. "LEEEEE----Ann is spelled with an I?"Listen, LEEEEEEEE...ann." Elizabeth jumped in, "No Mom, that's how Liam spells his name. You were confused." Yep, I was confused. Thanks for setting me straight, kid. "Oh...well, since I'm confused, why don't you just draw the picture and not include a name?" "No, I think your friends would like to see their names." Well, they can't say I didn't try.

All told, we probably spent more than 6 hours making these stupid Valentines (I know..I know...the girls got to make something for others and practice their letters so it was a worthwhile effort and blah, blah, blah....I'm a lazy parent, ok) over the course of 4 weeks and in the end, I ended up doing a bunch of them. I felt like we were limping across some heart-studded finish line the night before. They were slopped together. They were unimaginative, but the were DONE!!!!!

As I carried the box of Valentines into school, another Mom asked if she could see what I did because I was "that mom." Oh shit! There were expectations...and they were on me?????!!! Should I have gone to Pinterest for this? I was almost too embarrassed to show her, but she had the good sense to look relieved at how crappy they were instead of disappointed. Hurrah for camaraderie.
Imagine my delight when the girls brought home their bags of Valentines, that I can only imagine caused strife and tension in other houses, just to give each one a cursory glance before throwing them to the side (unless you are the parent of a child who also labored over their Valentines, then my girls CHERISHED the one that you made). While the girls couldn't have cared less about the Valentines, there was one that brought me immense joy. (Ok, there were actually two. Someone actually took the time to make egg crate valentine monsters and the "that mom" in me thinks that's sort of awesome).

I don't know who Erik is. I couldn't pick his mom out of a crowd, but if I could, I would hug that woman. That brilliant, brave woman. Bravo, Erik's mom, Bravo.

The Birds and the Bees...and Doughnuts

2015-01-27T21:45:00.001-05:00

Elizabeth has been very curious lately about how, exactly, babies are born. I typically try to be very forth-right with the girls. They ask uncomfortable questions and I matter-of-factly tell them the answer, all the while sweating bullets and praying I’m not ruining them for life. Typically, Elizabeth will ask us some big uncomfortable question, we’ll answer her, she’ll nod and move on. No big revelations. No tears. No big deal.

The other day, we were playing a game when Elizabeth looked at Anne and said very matter-of-factly, “Did you know that Mom was born with all the parts to make a baby, but they were itty bitty? Then they got bigger as she got older. That uterus is VERY important for having a baby. Yep, can’t have a baby without that uterus.” I just stood there opening and closing my mouth like a guppy and the girls moved on to the next natural topic: dinosaurs. Elizabeth is an equal opportunity stunner, so the next day she set her sights on Will. "Daddy, I know you don't have a uterus, so what parts do YOU have for making a baby?" Will ducked, dodged, mumbled, and then told a vague story about chickens. In theory he wants to be honest and nonchalant, but he’s not there yet.

Yesterday, faced with the “STORM OF THE CENTURY" the girls and I decided to take a snow day (or should we just call it a light-dusting of snow day). It was just like old times of stay-at-home-momming. We had a tea party, played games, went shopping, and then I got fodder for my blog.

We were on our way the store when a news story came on the radio about a lesbian couple who were taking legal action to have both of their names added to their child’s birth certificate. The story kindly outlined how the child came about. The birth mother carried a collected egg from the other mother that was "inseminated by sperm from a donor.” I heard Anne from the back seat, “They just said…” and I froze. Now I was going to have to explain sperm and donors????? Come on, world! Give me a break! I was collecting my thoughts as she continued “…sprung from a doughnut! Can you think of a doughnut big enough for me to jump from? I would eat ALL of it if it had sprinkles on it.”

Yep, that's exactly what they said, Anne. He sprung from a doughnut. It's a new Olympic game.

Morning Greetings

2014-09-25T17:18:00.000-04:00

Anne has a smile that lights up her whole face, never more though than when she’s causing mischief.

This morning we were sitting down for breakfast. Both girls were still groggy and waking up; we were all pretty subdued when Elizabeth excused herself to go to the bathroom. As soon as she was out of earshot Anne said, “Mom, you should tell Elizabeth ‘hi’ when she comes back.” She wasn’t smiling from ear to ear so this seemed like a pretty legit request. When we heard toilet flush Anne reminded me, “Don’t forget to say “hi” to Elizabeth.” Still not a hint of looming chaos.
When Elizabeth returned to the kitchen, Anne looked at me imploringly. “Hi, Elizabeth” I complied. In reply, Elizabeth grunted and moaned. Now came the devil smile. That was EXACTLY what she wanted. Anne chortled. Elizabeth wailed, “She’s laughing at me!” Anne chortled harder. Elizabeth wailed harder. An amused Anne whispered to me, “She’s crying JUST because you said hi to her.”

Eventually Elizabeth stopped wailing and returned to her normal grumpy, early-morning state. As soon as she sat back in her seat Anne’s face lit up, “HI, ELIZABETH!” Elizabeth wailed. Anne chortled.

E takes wearing her heart on her sleeve to a whole new level

2014-06-29T22:07:00.001-04:00

I like to joke that if I don't get my emotional outbursts under control I'm going to turn my kids into emotional cripples. Now it turns out, that's a self-fulfilling prophecy and not nearly as funny now that it's true.

The other day, Elizabeth and I were chatting about nothing when she suddenly cuts in with, "If you would die, I would cry. A lot." I was a little dumbfounded with how to respond so I just said, "Thanks, babe. Glad you care" and gave her a kiss on the head. She looked at me solemnly and said, "No, really. I would cry if you died. In fact, I think I'm going to cry right now." And then she cried. She really cried.

I don't know what to do in these situations. I'm usually not on the receiving ends of hysterical crying, I'm doling it out. Early on in our relationship, Will and I were driving somewhere. Just a typical day. Nothing special. We're driving down the highway and I am just overwhelmed by emotions.Completely out of nowhere, I started sobbing so hard I couldn't talk. The look on Will's face is one I will never forget. He was horrified. He probably thought I was completely insane, and I know I looked completely insane. He didn't know if he should pull over and console me or kick me out of the car and speed away. I finally was able to choke out the words, "I'm. SO. HAPPY!" Since we were new to this relationship thing, he took it as a high compliment (albeit odd) that I cared that much and he found it hysterical. Now my ridiculous tears are so common place Will doesn't bat an eye when he finds me sobbing in a corner. I haven't evolved to that state yet. When Elizabeth started crying I just copied Will's horrified look until she worked it out. I suddenly knew exactly how he felt. The poor, poor dear.

Lately, Elizabeth has been on a growing-up kick. She likes to ask me to pretend that she's 16 or to pretend like she just had a baby or just got married. Today the game was that she had just gotten married and she was moving into her own house. She packed up her things and talked about moving out. She gave me a hug and told me that she would visit often and that I could visit her. Then she went around to pack up her last few things and suddenly she went from singing, "I'm packing my things to move out of my house" to sobbing, "I'm moooovinnggg out of my house waaahahahahaha. I don't want to move away from you booooohooooo." I'm starting to get better at handling these things. My first instinct was to grab some food and shove it into her mouth because clearly, this girl's blood sugar was too low. She was too despondent to eat. I hugged her while she was shaking with emotion...for THIRTY MINUTES!!!!! Thirty minutes of hiccuping sobs over a make-believe scenario that SHE MADE UP. Once she was calm enough to eat something she got a little better, but she still spent most of the morning breaking out into tears again when she remembered that she was moving out...in 16 years. I think it's time to start making this home not so welcoming. Make her transition easier.

The morning routine

2014-05-11T23:24:00.001-04:00

For almost four years, the girls were allowed to sleep in until they woke up on their own. Elizabeth would take full advantage and sleep from 8pm to 9 or 10 am. She takes her sleep seriously. Anne is half-robot and only the weak human side requires sleep so she is typically up for the day around 6 (after being up most of the night too). Living a life where you don't set an alarm is an underestimated luxury that I'm fully appreciating now that I'm back to work. I dread mornings now.
Either I have to be up and out the door way too early so that I can pick the girls up from school at dismissal time or I get to stay in bed longer, but then struggle with the kids to get out the door.

I finally had it all down to a science just as the kids had off for spring break. Now we're back to square one. Mornings can go one of two ways. The rare (and most preferable) way is that Elizabeth wakes up first, completely on her own. My Little Ray of Sunshine walks into my room and hugs me tight, "Good morning, Mamma. Will you make me breakfast?" We hold hands as we walk down the stairs and chat about our dreams over dinosaur egg oatmeal. When it's time to wake up Anne, she is slow to wake up and cooperative. Elizabeth likes to play mommy to her sister so she helps me get Anne's breakfast on the table and then we all get dressed and out the door. It's peaceful and wonderful and shows up as frequently as a unicorn.

The more common scenario is that I wake up to my little Hurricane bellowing from her room, "MOMMY!!!! IS IT MORNING TIME?!?! MOMMY!!!" She's all smiles and sparkly eyes as she bounds down the stairs, dragging me along behind her. Anne bounces around like a monkey. Occasionally, she'll pause from her ping-pong bouncing to pull down her pants and wave her bare bottom in my direction, "I"M SHOWING YOU MY BOTTOM!!!!!!! It's FUNNY!!!!!!!" (I have no idea where this came from). Anne laughs and chats as we enjoy a very loud and joke-filled breakfast before we wake up Elizabeth. The problem is that by then Anne is totally fueled and ready for mischief and Elizabeth is sleepy and waking up. Elizabeth-baiting is one of Anne's favorite games. She's kind of an easy mark. When I wake Elizabeth up, it typically takes her a good 10-15 minutes to really be ready to get out of bed. Inevitably, Anne finds her way into the room and just starts pushing buttons. That sets the tone for the next 30 minutes, which happens to also be crunch time. Anne tries to bug her sister. Elizabeth whines and cries. And repeat. Elizabeth refuses to eat breakfast in the same room that Anne is in, which Anne finds to be a delightful game. Elizabeth carries her cereal from room to room, looking for solitude and Anne follows Elizabeth from room to room, just being a pain. She's amazingly clever at it. She'll wait until our very particular Elizabeth has finally situated herself just right and then Anne will step just in the threshold of the room, drop trou, and say, "GOOD MORNING, ELIZABETH! I"M SHOWING YOU MY BOTTOM!!!!!!!!!!" The twinkle in her eye confirms that she knows EXACTLY what she's doing. Elizabeth will let out a cry of, 'THAT’S DISGUSTING, ANNE!" and sob as she sulks to the next room. AND REPEAT.

Between getting myself dressed, getting them fed, packing their lunch, making sure they have their outdoor clothes for school, the last thing I have time to effectively do is referee and follow-through with disciplines. A few weeks ago, I was completely fed-up. As I put the girls into the car I decided to get Anne where it hurt.
Me: Anne, today when you come home from school Elizabeth is permitted to play the iPad for 30 minutes. You are allowed to play it for ZERO minutes.
Anne: ZERO MEANS NONE!!!!
Me: Perhaps if you remember to be kind tomorrow, you can also play with the iPad...TOMORROW."

It sounded like I took away Christmas, Easter and her birthday. The yelling and screaming. I was really thinking that this might actually work and require minimal effort on my part, until I came home from work that night. I started to talk to Anne about her punishment, what happened today and what she could do tomorrow to earn her own iPad time. Elizabeth peeped in, "Oh I let Anne play the iPad during my time. I don't like her to be sad." Well, kid. I tried. Now you're on your own. Hope you enjoy eating your cereal in the locked bathroom every morning because I am officially out of this morning melee.