They Call Me Mommy

Officially a Soccer Mom

2010-09-20T14:31:00.018-04:00

Isabella played her first soccer game this past Saturday morning. She is playing on the Upward Soccer League, on the "Little Cowboys" team. I think she is really enjoying it.

The league is a Christian-based organization that encourages the kids to learn a Bible verse each week about strength, perseverance, respect, or some similar virtue to coincide with their practices and games. Her coaches, John and Monica, are really wonderful and encourage having fun and not giving up.

Isabella receiving this week's Bible verse from Coach John

It took her about 15 minutes to figure out what it was she was supposed to be doing on the field. Once she realized that all she really needed to do was to chase the ball toward one goal, she channeled her dad's athletic nature and competitiveness and kept up with the biggest boy on the team.

She even received a star at the end of the game for "Best Effort." I was so proud of her, especially since she is by far the smallest child on the team.

In fact, she was only one of two kids who stayed in the game all the way to the end, even after taking a fall.

She's #9 - watch her go!

Grammy and Papaw came to watch Isabella play. They cheered for Isabella and helped me keep an eye on Sophia.

Sophia really wanted to play so badly. She would run out onto the field during warm-up and time-out to play, too.

After the game was over, Isabella was a little disappointed that she didn't score a goal herself.

She even said to me, "Mommy, I'm sorry I didn't play much good." It was all I could do to not cry when I heard this; it reminded me so much of myself.

I would love suggestions on how to keep her from criticizing herself and look at the game as a way to have fun. Be competitive, yes, but take pride in doing her best, too. Anyway, we are looking forward to rest of the season and seeing how she's going to grow and gain confidence over the next few months.

2009 Year-in-Review, Part 1

2010-02-02T15:06:00.030-05:00

Well, it is officially February, and so far I'm still not updating my blog as frequently as I'd planned to in the new year. I think part of my problem is that there were so many events that took place last year that I didn’t write about, and now I feel guilty going forward. (Yes, my obsessive-compulsiveness is more a hindrance than a help). My solution is to do a series of entries, each of which will include a number of events or milestones from 2009, so that I can feel free to move ahead with 2010. So, here goes...

To begin, 2009 was a big year for Sophia. She turned 1-year-old in March, so obviously she had her share of milestones. To begin with, she became quite good at playing by herself.

Here she is at 11-months-old. She already loved feeding her baby dolls.

At twelve-months-old, she already loved a purse and makeup. I can't deny that she's mine!

Sophia also learned how to walk, and my life hasn’t been the same since. She was about fourteen-months-old when she decided she was ready; she never looked back.

This was just before her first birthday. She loved any toy she could walk behind and push.

By Mother's Day, she was ready to take on the world.

One of the hardest milestones for me was the last time Sophia rode in her infant carrier. I knew she was getting too big for it. I knew she was bored facing backward. And, I knew the front-facing car seat is much easier and more practical. However, just knowing that I wouldn’t be carrying around an infant carrier anymore was really hard, especially since I had carried one since September 2006!

Here she is on the day after her first birthday. It was her last rear-facing ride.

Isabella also had a few milestones of her own last year. The first big one came when we transformed her crib into a toddler bed. We knew it was time when she began climbing out of her crib, but I chose to ignore the obvious next step; I just didn't want to see my baby grow up. At first she only climbed out occasionally, but soon she was doing this...

pretty frequently.

We knew it was time, so we decided to make the change to a big-girl bed. This was a hard day for me. Especially when she did this...

Isabella saying good-bye to her crib.

This was her last night in the crib.

Once it was done, I think she liked the change. Now there's more room for her books. (I can't deny that she's my baby either).

Mommy and Daddy also had a "first" of their own last year—we took our first overnight trip without the girls. Phillip and I went to Asheville for our sixth anniversary in March. We only stayed away one night, but I really missed my girls.

We're at the Grove Park Inn in Asheville, NC. Phillip proposed there in 2002. We even had dinner at the same restaurant.

We also ran into John Boy (i.e., "John Boy and Billy" on the radio) who was at the Grove Park for the Annual Comedy Classic. He's not the first person you expect to run into at a super-fancy resort, but it was fun to meet him and he was really nice to us.

I think this first year-in-review will have to end here. Isabella and Sophia just woke up from their naps, so my "free-time" is now at an end. I'll continue with my next installment of 2009 highlights soon. I know you're on the edge of your seat! :-)

Snow Days are the Best Days

2009-12-20T21:25:00.013-05:00

We received an early Christmas present last Friday--eight inches of snow! We were truly very fortunate, as our neighborhood was one of the few around that didn't lose power. We were able to enjoy the beautiful snow and stay warm at the same time.

When I saw how quickly the snow was falling, I placed a big bowl on the deck to collect snow for snow cream. It was the first time my girls had been able to have it. I think they liked it...

The next morning, Isabella was so excited when she woke up and saw that the snow was still here. She has been anxious to build a "Snow Queen" for weeks and is utterly enamored with Frosty the Snowman. So, after promising her we would go out and play later in the morning, we started the day by baking a "Happy Birthday Jesus" cake for Christmas. Isabella and Sophia stood on stepstools to help me pour and to watch the mixer work its magic.

After the cake came out of the oven, Phillip and I dressed up the girls in their warmest clothes and took them outside to play. It was their first time playing in the snow.

After awhile, Sophia became cold and irritable, so Phillip took her inside.

She was much happier once she was warm and dry.

I stayed outside to play with Isabella. We set to work building our Snow Queen.

Here's another view of "Frostina." Isn't she lovely?

Later, I taught Isabella how to make snow angels. She surprised me by already understanding the concept, thanks to "Max and Ruby."

She had so much fun that day. She cried when it was time to go inside.

I made it up to her by promising that she could decorate the birthday cake for Jesus when she woke up from her nap. That did the trick; apparently, there's nothing like green icing and "spinkles" to lift a little girl's spirits.

Here's the finished product.

We arranged the candles like an Advent Wreath and talked about the significance of the five candles before we blew them out.

Aside from worrying about our parents who were without power (my parents for more than 60 hours, Phillip's parents for about 40), it was a really fun snow day. I just wish our parents had come over to enjoy the fun.

A Bumble Bee and an Angel Go Trick-or-Treating - All Week Long

2009-11-04T15:33:00.031-05:00

Halloween has been and gone, and for my little girls, it was a week-long event.

I had a difficult time with costumes this year since I really wanted them to dress alike. If I had had my choice, I would have dressed them either as little pirates or as Southern Belles. (I am nothing if not random). Unfortunately, however, Isabella's preschool was having a candy parade with a theme: each costume had to either be one of God's creations or a person from the Bible. Since I thought I might have some difficulty passing Isabella off as King David or John the Baptist, I decided both my girls should be angels--how perfectly appropriate, right? Sure, we'll go with that.

Anyway, I bought two lovely angel costumes, but from the moment Isabella heard about it, she adamantly refused to even try it on. She wanted to be a "skerwee" (i.e., "scary") vampire. I was beginning to worry about the preschool requirement that costumes could be neither scary, nor gruesome, so I told her she could be an animal. I suggested she be a bumble bee. For some reason, this excited her more than a Max and Ruby marathon. I took her straight to Halloween Express, darted through the "skerwee" mechanical props in the entryway with my hands over her eyes, and marched her straight to the back where there was exactly one bumble bee costume left, and it just happened to be in her size. What do you know? A Halloween miracle. I looked longingly at the preschooler pirate and Southern Belle costumes and instead tried the bumble bee costume on my eldest child. She was beside herself with joy. She refused to take off the antennae the rest of the day and "buzzed, buzzed" everywhere she went. So, finally with two appropriate costumes, we readied ourselves for a very busy week.

On Monday, Isabella's dance class had a costume party. This was the first time she got to wear her costume. Don't all bees wear ballet slippers?

Another little girl in her class was also a bumble bee. Here is a picture of sweet little friends sharing a hug, a kiss and a costume. (Sophia was excited to see all of the little girls dressed up, too).

On Wednesday, I made jack o' lantern cookies for Isabella's class. This was more difficult that I expected. After burning one batch and letting black icing (yes, black icing) melt all over another batch, I had an acceptable number decorated, bagged and tied with orange ribbon. I wish I had made a picture with a phone other than my cell phone. (Sorry the quality is so bad; it's a picture of a picture).

Friday was the much anticipated Candy Parade. Sophia and I accompanied Isabella's class on their march through the church where parents and preschool staff were stationed at intervals handing out candy. Here is Isabella and her precious teacher, Mrs. Linda, just before the parade began. Isabella's little friend, Anna, was yet another bumble bee. Apparently, bees were big this year.

The next day was Halloween. Phillip and I took the girls to Cracker Barrel for breakfast and then to mom and dad's house to show off their costumes. Mom had treat bags for each of the girls filled with everything from candy to princess wands to Hello Kitty socks. Here is my little angel, Sophia, with her sweet "Moostie."

A precious bumble bee and a perfect angel share some Halloween cookies.

My little Sophia loved her angel costume. I was so proud of her.

When we got home, I put the girls down for their naps and carved our jack o' lantern. Here's the end result after nearly two hours of work. Think Indiana Jones reaching for a diamond in a haunted mine--or something like that.

After their naps, I got the girls ready to go trick-or-treating. Here's my little bumble bee, green plastic jack o' lantern in hand, ready to get the show on the road.

Sophia is ready, too!

My little girls, loaded up in their wagon, and ready to go.

Grammy and Papaw came over to see the girls in their costumes and to give them candy before we left.

Daddy with his two not-so-"skerwee" girls at a neighbor's house.

On to the next house!

Double-fisted candy-eaters. Oh, right...like I could have kept them out of their goodies before we got home.

The rain started back a little while later, so we headed home. I made dinner and Phillip sat on the porch handing out candy. Even after we returned, we still had over 150 trick-or-treaters who came by in the rain.

My girls had such a fun week. In addition to all the Halloween fun, the girls got to meet their first baby cousin. My sister-in-law gave birth on the 28th to a BEAUTIFUL baby girl, Avery. My girls were amazed by her, although Isabella thought the baby would already be a big girl like her and ready to play. I know they are going to be such good friends as they grow up. What an exciting week!

This is Why I Love Fall

2009-10-23T15:44:00.025-04:00

Last weekend, Phillip and I decided to take the girls to Asheville for a day of fall fun.

Asheville is one of my favorite towns, and it is especially beautiful in October. We decided to first take a drive, do a little hiking, hit the Blue Ridge Parkway, and then spend the rest of the day playing in town. We set the GPS for Craggy Gardens, and followed the directions up a Forest Service road to the top of the mountain. While I typically am not fond of these types of roads, the drive was fairly easy and incredibly beautiful.

The girls fell asleep in the backseat on the way up the mountain, so Phillip and I were able to take our time and stop along the way to make pictures and enjoy the scenery.

Snow had already fallen on top of the mountain, which made the drive even more special. Unfortunately, when we got to Craggy Gardens, we discovered it had been closed due to bear activity, so we made our way onto the Blue Ridge Parkway, and enjoyed another beautiful ride. To reward the girls for behaving so well while in the car, we decided to treat them to some playtime at the park.

We let the girls play for about an hour before we loaded them up and took them to get ice cream at the Asheville Mall, which will henceforth be known to Isabella not as the Asheville Mall, but the "Ice Cream Store." Days like this are why I love fall so much.

Tiny Dancer

2009-09-09T14:48:00.013-04:00

One of my longest-held dreams has finally been realized.

My little Isabella is finally taking dance lessons.

As much as I have always dreamed of my little girl taking ballet, I must admit that I initially had a few doubts as to whether or not she was ready. You see, I made the rookie mistake on the way to registration of telling her that she was going to get her foot measured for ballet and tap shoes. Since she had no idea what this actually meant, she assumed the worst and proceeded to do what three-year-olds do best: become negative. "No, mommy, I don't want to get my foot measured. No! I don't want Isabella's foot measured." She repeated her mantra for the next ten minutes, as though she truly believed some unspeakable horror was about to befall her feet.

However, when we walked in (or I should say I walked, she was dragged), she saw another little girl trying on shoes that to Isabella looked as though Cinderella herself had recently cast them aside. She immediately climbed up in a chair, ripped her tennis shoe off, and stuck her pale pink-painted toes into the face of a studio worker. While I paid her tuition, Isabella amused herself by trying on every shoe in the box. When she had exhausted the pile, she ran over to me and shouted, "Mommy, I got measured!" Oh, the joy on that little face.

Afterward, I took her into the studio and showed her where she would be learning how to "dance like a princess." With no hesitation whatsoever, she began to twirl around the room. With this bit of encouragement, I decided it was safe to indulge myself (and my wallet) in purchasing all of the dance accessories I could (I mean, "she could") want. I had more fun than I care to admit picking out leotards, tights, ballet skirts, a personalized dance bag, and even a ballet slipper key chain for her bag (yes, of course, she had to have one).

Her first day of class arrived, and unfortunately, her dance class falls on one of the days she attends preschool. What this means is that she must take a very condensed nap and I must wake her up a full hour before she is ready. And not only must I wake her, I must immediately wrangle tights, a leotard and ballet shoes on her. That first day, she was less than happy to cooperate. My memory is a little fuzzy, as I tried to erase the experience completely from my mind, but as I recall, she screamed something like, "I DON'T WANT TO WEAR THESE TIGHTS! I DON'T WANT TO WEAR THIS 'LEETARD!'" And, she proceeded to pull her shorts and tee-shirt out of the clothes hamper while attempting to rip off her tights.

(Obviously, she is not the happiest child when she first wakes up). So, I pulled out the big guns. I broke my rule about allowing her to watch the DVD player in the car while not on vacation. I have found that there is very little that an episode of "Max and Ruby" and a Hello Kitty thermos full of orange Gatorade won't fix.

We made it to the studio, clothes intact. Once there, she remembered that this was the place where princess shoes abound and little girls can twirl themselves into oblivion in front of full-length mirrors. She would hardly stand still long enough for me to tighten her tap shoes. She ran into the studio and after one short hour she had learned to "run like a ballerina," do the "First Position," and make really, really loud noises with her tap shoes. After class, she ran into the lobby with a stamp on one hand and a green lollipop in the other. On the way home, she told me repeatedly what a wonderful time she had. And for a super-frilly mommy like me, I couldn't have asked for more.

The Great Debates

2009-09-01T14:22:00.020-04:00

Today's Topic for Our Debating Panel:

This toy kitchen

is less exciting than this toy kitchen. Discuss.

Obviously, this is a misleading debate topic. To most observers, the first kitchen is clearly superior.

For the sake of clarity, we'll say the target demographic for the first toy is a child of preschool age, hereinafter referred to as "Isabella." It has all of the fancies and frills any child (i.e., Isabella) could hope for. It has a realistic oven, microwave, and refrigerator. It has drawers, cabinets, and even a window. It also has over 100 realistic accessories including food, plates, cookware, and utensils. It even has a cordless phone with real buttons.

Truly, what more could a preschool-aged child want?

Well, for one, she could (and will) want the kitchen in the second picture, which is clearly smaller, simpler, and made for a child aged nine months and up.

Why, you may ask? Why would she pass up the opportunity to pretend boil a plastic eggplant and chocolate bar while talking to Dora the Explorer on the surprisingly-real phone in favor of opening and closing a green plastic oven door and shoving geometrically-shaped plastic ice cubes into a hole?

It's because the natural law that befalls all children between the ages of two and four decrees it. For the sake of this debate, I will refer to said law as, "The Law of Sibling Differentials," which states, "The party of the first part wants the smaller, less exciting toy, if and only if, the party of the second part, hereinafter referred to as 'Sophia,' wants it first."

My dear audience, I am at a loss. The "Great Kitchen Debate" is only one of many I have moderated today. I have also witnessed the "Great Musical Instrument Debate," the "Great Juice Box Debate," and the "Great Play-doh Accessory Debate," just to name a few.

In these tumultuous time, such topics must be discussed at length and we must pray that resolutions will soon be made. However, as Head of Diplomatic Sibling Relations, it is imperative that I maintain my sanity while negotiations are under way. In addition to the occasional bubble bath, Girl's Night Out, and manicure, I also indulge in a little fantasy. In my fantasy world, the following phrases would be stricken from my children's vocabulary: "Mine!," "No, Sister!," "That's not yours!," and the ever-popular, "Here, Sister, play with this one instead!"

But, like I said, that is a mere fantasy and not real life. So, for the time being, I suppose real life will involve tantrums, time outs, and tears--and that's just my life.

Where to Begin?

2009-08-20T14:12:00.008-04:00

Hi, there. Remember me? I'm the one who made a promise not so long ago to do a better job of updating my blog so that all five of my loyal readers wouldn't have to chew down their manicures in anticipation of my next fascinating installment. Please accept my apologies and bear with me as I attempt to reaquaint myself with the art (craft?) of writing about my littlest family members.

It has been a wonderfully-eventful summer, but I'm now more than ready for fall. My sweet husband cringes when I utter such things; he loves summer, and the hotter the better as far as he's concerned. Since my naturally-curly hair and I have never quite made friends with high humidity, the season that garners my praise and passion is fall. I love everything about it. I love the aisles of back-to-school supplies in Wal-mart. I love the way Michael's craft stores smell like cinammon potpourri. I love my dining room table centerpiece that I can only use after Labor Day and before the Friday after Thanksgiving. I especially love the wave of "freshness," coupled with "new beginnings," that washes over me each year about this time. I think most people associate that feeling with springtime; I, however, am hit by the full force of it right about the time each new school year starts. I typically feel the urge to buy a bunch of new organizational accoutrements, break out my label maker, and take control of the things I have let slip during the summer. This year is no exception. Our summer was exceptionally full, so of course, my planner is exceptionally empty, as I have taken very little time to update my life, which is exceptionally frustrating. But, no matter. Fall is around the corner and fresh new plans and ideas will arrive with it.

One of the first orders of business is to update my blog, and yes, I really do have more to talk about than my obsession with fall and my obsessive-compulsiveness for all things Martha Stewart. I am anxious to share with you some of the highlights of our summer, but that will have to come in a future entry. I just heard my little ones stirring in their beds, so mommy's hiatus must soon come to an end. Again, I apologize for my long absence and hope you will bear with me as I attempt to get back into my writing and into a new season.

Preschool Highlights

2009-06-03T13:28:00.025-04:00

Isabella's first year of preschool ended last week. I can hardly believe it. When I look back on the progress she's made, I have no doubt in my mind I made the right decision to send her (even though she was the youngest child in her class). I had faith in my little girl and I knew she would thrive; I just had no idea how much. Here are some photos from her first year in preschool.

This was her very first day of school. Isn't she tiny? I look back on this photo and wonder how I ever left her there that day.

Her teacher, Mrs. Juanita, took this picture on Isabella's first day. She cried for a few minutes after I left her, and then off and on during the day. She looks pretty upset here, poor little thing. And don't think for a second I didn't stand out in the hallway with tears in my own eyes after I left her. I watched the security camera monitor for twenty minutes, just to make sure she was okay.

Soon, however, Isabella decided she would rather be at school than just about anywhere else. She would frequently run down the hall, backpack in place, lunchbox swinging, to her teacher and friends with barely a backward glance at her poor mommy. What a difference just a few days made.

She had her second birthday just three weeks after school began. Yes, I started her in preschool before she was even two-years-old. I feel a little guilty about that, but like I said, I had a feeling she would do well. Mrs. Juanita decorated the classroom door in honor of Isabella's birthday.

I made cupcakes for her classmates that day. Chocolate on chocolate with sugary Elmo heads on top. Yum!

Early in the school year, the local fire department came to give a lesson on fire safety to all of the children. They brought their trucks for the kids to explore.

They were each given a plastic fireman helmet to take home. This was a big hit!

Here she is playing dress-up in the classroom. What a sense of style!

One of the highlights of the year was the Halloween parade. All of the children dressed up as one of "God's Creations." Isabella was a ladybug. They trick-or-treated their way through the church. I volunteered to hand out candy just so I could see how she responded to the excitement. The kids were adorable, especially my little ladybug.

Isabella really loved her daily time on the playground.

It took her awhile to get used to the swings, but she soon got the hang of them.

She became quite adventurous. This little girl loves to climb!

This log cabin was one of her favorite playground pieces. It's fitting, considering the family business.

Fall arrived and with it came sweet friendships between Isabella and her "Mingos." (This is Isabella's word for her friends. Mrs. Juanita taught them the Spanish word "Amigo" for "friend." Since she couldn't quite say it, she settled for "Mingo").

Here is my little girl on the night of the Christmas program. She was so excited to be on stage. Once she spotted her family, she spent the remainder of the program waving to us and yelling our names: "Hi, Pappy!" "Hi, Daddy!" "It's, Grammy!" "There's my Mommy!" And so on, and so on...

She really enjoyed physical education time in the gym. She learned how to do somersaults and how to play interactive games with other kids. This was some of the most valuable time spent in school this year. Her socialization skills really seemed to blossom during this time.

Here is a (very poorly recorded) video of Isabella's Spring performance. I don't know if I have ever tried so hard to keep from laughing and crying at the same time. Notice how the audience starts laughing when she begins her jumping routine. I apologize in advance for quality of the video. The kids are precious, regardless.

Lining up for the Easter Egg Hunt! She was so proud of her basket of eggs. When she came home, she very carefully laid out each egg, then organized them by color, and then by her favorite color. Next, she opened each one and was utterly delighted to find the surprises.

Here is Isabella and her classmates with their donations for the St. Jude Walk-a-thon. The kids actually took part in walking for this wonderful cause and my best friend, Amanda, came to tell the children about her own precious son's battle with leukemia, which he has beaten. God answers prayers.

Isabella and her "Mingos" with Mrs. Kristie during Enrichment. The time Mrs. Kristie spent with the class came to be a daily highlight for Isabella.

Isabella and her friend, Miles. Aren't they sweet together?

One of the best things about sending Isabella to preschool was the artwork that came to adorn the side of my refrigerator. I have saved each and every masterpiece.

Here she is painting my Mother's Day gift. For some reason, purple paint became her favorite medium.

Birthday cupcakes for one of Isabella's "Mingos."

Here are Phillip and Isabella eating gravy and biscuits during the special breakfast the school hosted for all the daddies. (Don't they look alike?)

Here's Isabella and her class on Pajama Day. They all wore their "jommies" (as Isabella calls them) to school, even Mrs. Juanita.

Isabella and Mrs. Juanita, the most precious teacher we could have hoped for. Isabella talks about her every day. She will truly be missed next year.

I'm so proud of how Isabella has grown this year. Each day she went to class changed her just a little bit. She would get in the car each afternoon and talk nonstop about her day. While I'm looking forward to our time together this summer, I can't wait to see how she'll grow next year.

A Wonderful Mother's Day Weekend

2009-05-13T14:35:00.012-04:00

What a truly special Mother's Day I had this year. Phillip and my little ones went out of their way to make the entire weekend one to remember. It all began when I picked up Isabella from preschool late last week and was presented with my very first handmade Mother's Day gift.

Isabella and her teacher, Mrs. Juanita, made me this little flower. Isabella hand-painted the flower and little pot all by herself. She was so proud of it, she wanted to take it with her when I put her down for her nap. I managed to sneak this photo without waking her.

Next, Sophia made my Mother's Day extra special by taking her first continuous steps. She had already been taking one or two steps at a time, but last week she finally decided it was time to walk. Phillip managed to get one photo of her in action. Notice the blur behind her as she moved. My life is about to get even busier.

Saturday morning we got up and went to breakfast as a family, as we usually do. We love to take Isabella to McDonald's. She plays on the slide and then runs by our table every few minutes for a forkful of gravy and biscuits, her very favorite food.

Next, we went to Lowe's to buy flowers for our front flower beds. We let Isabella choose one special flower of her own to take care of. She chose a very pretty yellow one, which we planted right in the middle (where she told us to, of course). Isabella had a wonderful time digging with her pink trowel and watering everything but the flowers with her pink watering can. It was a very special thing to work in the yard for the first time as a family.

While the girls were asleep, Phillip brought me a bouquet of flowers for Mother's Day. He chose the white roses and purple penstemons himself. They made a beautiful spring arrangement.

After the girls got up from their naps, we went to mom and dad's house for dinner.

The girls had a ball riding the four-wheeler with their Daddy and Pappy.

The next morning we went to church. Phillip ordered my favorite Chinese take-out for lunch, and while we waited, we took some family pictures around the church after the parking lots cleared.

After the girls' nap, we visited with Phillip's mom and dad for a little while and then took the girls to the park. Sophia had a ball watching her big sister from her wagon seat and Isabella kept her daddy busy on the swings and slides.

After the girls went to bed, Phillip grilled steaks for dinner and we settled in to watch Desperate Housewives together. It was truly a very special weekend. I feel so blessed to have my little family and I know I will cherish these memories forever.

A Singular Sense of Style

2009-05-05T10:01:00.018-04:00

"Fashion can be bought. Style one must possess."

~Edna Woolman Chase, Editor-in-Chief of Vogue Magazine, 1914-1952

Look out, Paris and Milan! Isabella Madeline is ready to walk the runway and show the dreadful designers of the fashion world a thing or two about style.

First, forget Manolo Blahnik. The trendy footwear for this summer season is a pair of chunky, pink ski boots. They are the perfect shoe for any girl about to hit the park for an afternoon of swinging, sliding and sidewalk-chalk-drawing. And don't forget your bubbles! They are a much more functional accessory than last-year's designer diaper bag.

Second, make sure you have a variety of hair accessories. These funky little clips are available in a wide array of colors to match nearly any set of play clothes, and they're easy enough for the tiniest toddler to use. They are completely suitable for playground and playdate alike.

Third, never forget your shades. Jimmy Choo has nothing over on these hip pink-and-green sunglasses with white daisy detail. This is the trend that will be sweeping the playgrounds this summer season.

Look, the trend is already spreading. You go, girl!

Fourth, it is a well-known modeling secret that wearing shoes that are a little too large can make our ankles appear smaller. Check out your very fashionable mommy's closet for a suitable pair. And don't be held back by tradition - wear them on the wrong foot if you want. It's all about the attitude!

Finally, keep in mind that all girls are princesses at heart, so pick your favorite Disney Diva and adopt her style as your own. After all, what girl doesn't want a fancy dress, a castle, and a handsome prince of her very own?

If you follow these easy steps, you will never again be the victim of another fashion faux pas. Isabella will be gracing the cover of Vogue any day, and I will be able to say, "I knew her when."

That is..."I knew her when she wanted to wear bunny ears to bed."

I'll Call It a "Rite of Passage" for Mommies

2009-05-02T21:03:00.010-04:00

I've heard my friends talk about it. I've read about others' experiences of it in parenting magazines. I've even witnessed it firsthand. Somehow, however, I never thought I would get to that point in my child-rearing experience. Somehow, I thought my children would stay tiny and mute forever, or at least they would just know how to behave without me having to "shush" them under my breath.

Well, it has now happened to me. I am now one of the millions of mommies who must endure the potential humiliation on a semi-regular basis for the next few years at least. What, you may ask, is this dreaded experience to which I refer?

Taking a preschooler into a public restroom.

I vaguely recall those carefree days before babies when I could excuse myself to the ladies' room, go about my business, wash my hands, check my hair, freshen my lipstick, and return to my dinner companion or shopping cart in under five minutes. That is not the case now. No, now it is a far different experience altogether. Let me give you an example.

Today, I took Isabella and Sophia to Kohl's. As I was browsing the half-price picture frames, I decided to take a "quick" pit stop. I pushed my double stroller to Customer Service and into the ladies' restroom. This, by the way, is no easy job in and of itself. I love my double stroller, but when you are by yourself and attempting to move through any doorway, it might as well weigh 300 pounds and be the length of a railroad car.

Anyway, I made my way to the rear of the restroom to the handicapped stall, which is the only one large enough to accommodate my babies' behemoth ride. I carefully pushed them inside, taking care to park it just far enough away from both the wall and toilet seat, so that little hands couldn't touch anything even if they wanted to, which they did. I gave Isabella a stern warning not to put her hands on anything; Sophia just grinned open-mouthed, as usual.

Anyway, as I went about my business I was made privy to a point-by-point analysis by my eldest child of every sound that transpired. (My apologies to poor ladies who had to endure a critique of their business). The next few minutes went something like this:

(Woman enters restroom and chooses the stall next to ours)

Isabella: "You hear that?"

Mommy: "Yes, sweetheart, I do."

(Woman proceeds to do that which one is expected to do in a restroom)

Isabella: "You HEAR that?!"

Mommy: "Shhh, yes, sweetheart. Let's see if we can be quiet for a minute."

Isabella: "Mommy has to go potty!"

Mommy: "Yes, sweetheart, mommy does have to go potty. Let's talk about something else."

(Woman flushes toilet in the next stall)

Isabella: "Flush! Flush! Flush! YOU HEAR THAT!!!"

Mommy (as I take some toilet paper): "Yes, honey, that's a toilet flushing."

Isabella: "Mommy has toilet paper! Hi, toilet paper! Hi! Hello, toilet paper!"

Mommy (trying to leave as quickly as possible): "Okay, Isabella. Let's go bye-bye now. Mommy needs to wash her hands."

Isabella: "Is-bella wants to wash her hands, too. Is-bella wants to wash her hands, too. Is-bella wants to wash her hands, too..."

Mommy: "Okay, fine. Let me get you out of the stroller. Here, let me hold you up. Let's roll up your sleeves. Okay, here's some soap. Rub your hands together. No, don't splash the mirror. Yes, Isabella is pretty. Okay, here's a paper towel. Dry your hands. Let's get back into the stroller. No, you can't have princess cookies right now. Are you ladies ready to go?"

(Sophia just smiles open-mouthed, as usual, and I think to myself, "Uh-oh." I feel her pants and sure enough, I realize I can't leave the dreaded bathroom yet. You-know-who needs a diaper change. So, I unstrap Baby #2, change her diaper, and wash my hands again. All the while I acknowledge the empathetic looks cast my way by each and every woman who enters the restroom and witnesses me changing the diaper of one wiggly baby, carrying on a conversation with the second overly-verbose child and using my hot-pink-polished toes to scoot my mammoth stroller out of the way of each person who walks by. When I checked my watch, I discovered I had been in that torture chamber for nearly 15 minutes.

So much for my quick trips to the ladies' room.

Human Leg Warmers and Other Observations from Mommyhood

2009-04-21T11:13:00.022-04:00

I'm sure most of you remember leg warmers, right? They were those fabulous fashion accessories from the 80's made popular by break dancers and the Material Girl. I remember having them in practically every color and sporting them most everywhere I went. I wore pale pink ones to ballet class, blue-and-white-argyle ones to school (over my acid-washed jeans, I might add), and red-and-white-striped ones with my roller skates. Additionally, I had a myriad of neutrals that I wore with everything else. I loved them. They were the epitome of cool, stylishness, and sexiness.

Weren't they?

Well, hind-sight is 20/20. At the time I thought they were "rad," but then I also thought penny-rolled jeans tucked into four pairs of scrunched socks, stuffed into LA Gear high tops were cool. I still wear leg warmers, but now mine are of a slightly different variety.

I wouldn't call my new leg warmers cool; instead they more or less drool. (I can't believe I just typed that terrible pun). And they're not so much sexy and stylish, as needy and childish. However, I love my new leg warmers more than all the trendy, neon-colored apparel I owned during the 80's. (And believe me, that's a lot). Yes, friends, my new leg warmers might not keep my legs warm so much as they cause me to trip over my own feet, and they might not win me any fashion awards, so much as they make me lose my sanity from time to time. But, there is nothing else as wonderful (or as difficult) as trying to make dinner with living, breathing leg warmers welded to your calves, looking up expectantly and with so much love in their big eyes as you chop vegetables with six-inch Santoku knives, pull steaming casseroles out of 400 degree ovens, and transfer boiling pots from stove top to sink. It's definitely a challenge, but the frustration I sometimes feel melts as soon as I look down into my little one's sweet, smiling face.

The intermittent high-pitched squeals, giggles and cries are just an added benefit of my changing fashion sense.

*****

Along those same lines, have you ever tried to clean out cabinets, closets or drawers with an infant, a toddler, a preschooler, or any combination thereof nearby? I am attempting to get ready for a garage sale, which at this point will be held sometime between next month and next year. You know how it is. When the kids are asleep is the only time I can clean out their closets and toy boxes, but how do I clean out their closets and toy boxes without waking them? It's a vicious cycle and I'm open to suggestions.

Aside from the nurseries and my struggles to cull their old things, I have been culling a few of my own old things. I just bought a new set of "everyday dishes," as I call them. I am so happy to be getting rid of my old out-dated dishes, and I eagerly anticipated packing them up for the garage sale. Thinking I would do this while Isabella was at preschool, I began the task of washing my new dishes and wrapping up my old ones. Can you guess who wanted to help?

She unpacked and I repacked. She unpacked and I repacked. She unpacked and I repacked. And on and on. Finally, I grabbed the packing tape, closed the box and sat on top of it while I taped it shut. At this rate, I'll be having the garage sale sometime after my youngest one goes to college. I hope she doesn't mind having breast pump accessories and a Bumbo chair in her closet until then.

*****

And by the way, how many of these things does one household need?

This picture does not even count the one Sophia is currently drinking from, the one Isabella has at preschool with her, the one left in Sophia's room from last night, or the countless cups under the front passenger seat in my car. They are spilling out of my cabinets and filling up my dishwasher like a big, pink, plastic tidal wave. I especially love it when I find one that has had milk in for a week hiding under the crib, or even better, in Isabella's refrigerator. She tells me that she puts them in her little refrigerator because mommy puts them in the big refrigerator. Oh, well. Imitation is the sincerest form of flattery.

Now What Am I Going to Do?

2009-04-03T21:20:00.012-04:00

I was at Wal-Mart yesterday and got some truly awful news...

THEY'VE STOPPED CARRYING RINGO'S!!!

In fact, according to their frozen foods manager, they've "deleted them from [their] inventory, and don't even have a spot on the shelf for them anymore." Whose misguided, boneheaded, uninformed-knowledge-of-how-a-two-year-old's-mind-works idea was this?!

What, you may ask, are Ringo's? Well, for one, they are frozen pieces of pre-cooked chicken formed into a ring-like shape. (I'm Queen of the Obvious tonight). Secondly, and most importantly, Ringo's are just about the only thing Isabella will eat! (Note the panic in my voice). I truly don't know what I'm going to do. My child won't eat just any chicken nugget like most kids. No, for some reason my child specifically likes these, and requests them with "tetchup" on a nearly daily basis.

If anyone sees these in any other grocery store, please let me know. Before long, I suspect they will appear on e-bay as some unscrupulous frozen-foods distributor discovers the army of preschooler moms who are desperate to feed their children ring-shaped, compressed, frozen chicken that microwaves to perfection in just one minute.

Hey, you do what you have to do to get your 25-pound preschooler to eat. Can I get an "Amen?"

Sophia's Big Day

2009-04-01T16:43:00.025-04:00

It's hard to believe, but my sweet little Sophia just turned one.

We had a "Little Princess" theme and celebrated with just our immediate family. This is the pattern that was used on the balloons, napkins, and invitations.

My mom and dad, (a.k.a., "Moostie" and "Pappy") came over early to get a lesson from Sophia on the proper care and feeding of a Bitty Baby.

Isabella helped me set up for the party. (I think every one of these pink cups wound up on the floor at some point during this process).

Here is Sophia's "cupcake cake." It was half vanilla and half chocolate with butter cream frosting. What better to give a one-year-old for her very first taste of cake?

Isabella was only too happy to help "Sister" blow out her candles. She practiced for days; she considered it her personal gift to Sophia.

Here's Sophia helping herself to her first piece of cake. I must admit, she was extremely neat about it. She didn't get one bit on her outfit, and hardly any on her face.

My grandmother, Sophia's great-grandmother, fed her her very first ice cream. She actually liked it even better than the cake.

Phillip's mom and dad, otherwise known as "Grammy" and "Papaw" gave Sophia a Toddle Tune Car as one of her gifts. Obviously, Isabella loved it, too.

Here's our birthday girl enjoying her gift from "Uncle J" and "Aunt Nanner." She loves this!

This is short video of Sophia enjoying her birthday balloons with her Pappy. The camera angle is just awful, but the squeals of happiness are all that matter. This may have been the highlight of her day.

We had such a wonderful day. I am so proud of my little girl.

How Did I Get Sucked into This Show?

2009-03-31T22:49:00.012-04:00

I'm really not sure why, but I have recently become addicted to "Dancing with the Stars" - like I needed another television show to occupy my very few free moments in the evening. I think the reason I gave it more than a fleeting thought this season was because Shawn Johnson is one of the contestants. I am one of those insane people who stayed up every night until 1:00 a.m. during the Summer Olympics to watch her tumble her way across China. Suffice it to say, I'm a fan and am excited to watch her compete again. There's just something about her that makes me smile - isn't she sweet?

Now that I have gotten into the show, I am completely hooked. There are several stars competing this year that I actually care about, and several I will be thrilled to see go. Sadly, one of my favorites got canned last night, and I might add, I think a bit prematurely.

Call me crazy, but I am convinced Carrie Ann Inaba has had it in for Holly Madison since the moment she first danced across the stage. I don't know if Carrie Ann is just a big fan of Jewel, or if she thinks Holly Madison is an embarrassment to women everywhere, but either way, I think she was pretty rough on her. Granted, all three judges had their share of negative comments for her, but come on, Steve-O stays on and Holly goes? What kind of reality-game-show-obsessed world are we living in? Poor Holly, first she's out of the Playboy mansion, and now she's been kicked to the curb on a weekly dance competition starring second-tier celebrities. How much more can she take? It may sound strange that I would be rooting for both the all-American good girl and Hef's latest castoff, but that's just the type of complex girl I am. (And you thought you had me all figured out).

Well, here's hoping Shawn Johnson continues to do well, and if not, Gilles is always worth watching. I'm just glad they had the good sense to dance Denise Richards out the door last week.

Though the earth give way and the mountains fall...

2009-03-20T12:34:00.054-04:00

One year ago today, I was going about my business as a 36-week-pregnant wife and mother. I was in full nesting mode and was spending the morning stocking my freezer with food from Sam's and Wal-Mart. Since Isabella was born early, I had a feeling Sophia might arrive early, too, and I was determined to be prepared. Toting 18-month-old Isabella with me, I made my way through the stores, walking from one end to the other, not realizing I was in labor.

I drove home, put Isabella down for her nap and brought several loads of groceries up the stairs. I had been having odd twinges all day, but having chalked them up to Braxton-Hicks contractions, I mostly ignored them. The twinges became more regular as the day wore on, so Phillip and I decided I should get checked. I was dilated 4 centimeters and almost completely effaced. When the time came, I pushed two times and Sophia literally popped into the world at 3:01 a.m.

I had no reason to think that anything might be wrong. I had carried her a full week longer than Isabella, my pregnancy had been completely uneventful, and every checkup had been perfect. Even so, I was only allowed to hold her for about 15 seconds before she began turning blue. They took her away and told me they would bring her back as soon as they examined her. Everyone left to see the baby, but since my epidural had not yet worn off, I was left by myself in the bed. Finally, Phillip came back, but was minus a baby. He said she was having problems breathing and was being transported to the NICU. All I remember was a flood of emotion coming all at once; one nurse later told me that she heard me crying all the way down the hall. Everyone tried to make me feel better by telling me she wasn't doing so terribly, that a nasal cannula was probably all it would take to help her breathe, and that the worst-case scenario would be a ventilator. Before I knew it, however, she was on a ventilator and the worst-case scenario had become a reality.

Since I still couldn't walk, they put me in a wheel chair and took me to see her before she was transported. She wasn't out in the main viewing nursery; no, my baby was in the private, high-risk room they had told us about during our parenting classes, along with the added reassurance, "We're sure none of your children will have to be in here, don't worry about." But, there was my baby laying on a table with 7 or 8 people rushing around trying to help her breathe. She wasn't moving, she was blue and she had more wires than I could count running in and out of her 7-pound body. Did I mention she was born on Good Friday?

Sophia was transported to the NICU and I was transported two hours later. When I got there, I couldn't believe that the baby I was directed to was even mine. Not once during my entire pregnancy did I ever fathom seeing my child looking so anguished when she was supposed to look rosy, pink and new.

I spent the day running between the NICU and my hospital room, never mind that I had just pushed a human being out of my body a mere 4 hours previous. Each time I entered the NICU, I was greeted with worse news. For example, they could only find two renal vessels; there were supposed to be three. Therefore, she could have potential life-long kidney problems. Additionally, one of her intestines was protruding through her skin, due to an excess of air on her stomach that could also potentially cause long-term problems. Oh, and she still couldn't breathe on her own. I couldn't hold her, I couldn't try to feed her, and instead of snuggling in my comfortable birthing suite with my new baby, I could only lightly brush her skin because we were told how much pain she would experience at anything more. While we were told that she would probably live, she would likely have some life-long issues to deal with and she would probably be in the NICU at least 3 weeks. I cried and worried and prayed all day long.

The next morning, our NICU nurse called. She said to come upstairs as soon as we could; Sophia was miraculously off the ventilator and was, for the time being, holding her own. None of the doctors or nurses ever expected such an immediate turnaround.

Then you will call, and the Lord will answer; you will cry for help and he will say: Here am I. ~Isaiah 58:9

The renal ultrasound had shown that she did indeed have a third renal vessel; it was just very well hidden and was very tiny. So, no kidney problems to worry about, her lungs were finally functioning, and they had managed to suction the air off her stomach before permanent damage was done.

(A very worried daddy)

When we made it upstairs, she was finally beginning to look pink and new. We spent the day with her in the NICU, but were told that she would most likely have to remain there for a week at least, because they had to be sure she could maintain her body weight, her body temperature and keep down a specified amount of food at each feeding. Thrilled though I was that my child was well and had come so far so fast, I dreaded going home and leaving her in the hospital for another week. That just wasn't how this was supposed to happen.

(Checking Sophia's temperature)

God is within her, she will not fall; God will help her at break of day. ~Psalm 46:5

Easter Sunday arrived and with it came our own personal miracle. While Phillip and I were in the NICU fawning over our new daughter, her doctor came by on rounds. He examined her, looked at her chart, studied her weight, temperature and feeding statistics. Completely unexpectedly, he told us she could go home the next day as long as there was no change in her progress.

(The first time I got to hold her since she was first born)

Anything else I could say at this point would be anti-climactic. Suffice it to say, our child who came into this world on Good Friday, anguishing, blue, and unable to breathe, had new life about her by the time Easter Sunday arrived; she was finally rosy, pink and healthy. Phillip and I, who could have lost so much just two days before, felt like we had been given a second chance, if you will, with the new life God had blessed us with. What a wonderful Easter.

But he was wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our iniquities: the punishment of our peace was upon him; and with his wounds we are healed. ~Isaiah 53:5

For ye shall go out with joy, and be led forth with peace; the mountains and the hills shall break forth before you into singing, and all the trees of the field shall clap their hands. ~Isaiah 55:12

Sophia Caroline will be one-year-old tomorrow. She is beautiful and perfect. Thank you, God.

A Future Doctor?

2009-03-19T13:53:00.008-04:00

This is not the greatest photo, but I thought Isabella was so funny, I had to share.

Isabella managed to get her hands on my iPod headphones yesterday. Thinking they were a stethoscope, she put one earpiece in Sophia's ear and held the other earpiece to her own chest. She then proceeded to shout, "Here, Sister. Listen to Bella's heart 'beep'."

She has recently been watching Elmo Visits the Doctor, and thankfully, is no longer quite so freaked out at her own doctor's visits. (We had a few full-blown meltdowns in Dr. Wireman's office before I bought this DVD).

I think it's finally time to buy the little pink doctor's kit I saw at Babies R Us. I don't think my hot pink headphones will survive another "checkup."

(By the way, Sophia has a plastic lemon in her mouth, just in case you were wondering).

Why Do I Do This to Myself?

2009-03-16T16:52:00.026-04:00

Every Monday, it's the same thing. It's just further proof that my obsessive compulsiveness is going to kill me, and probably soon if I keep this up. It is now Tuesday, and as I look around my house, I seriously question the sanity behind my weekly ritual...

What, you may ask, is this ritual to which I refer and why do I inflict it upon myself each and every week? It's just a little thing I like to call "Cleaning Monday," or more recently, "Break-My-Back-Cleaning-Just-So-My-House-Can-Get-Messed-Up-Again-Before-"House"-Even-Goes-Off-the-Air-on-Monday-Night Monday." Here is what my typical Monday schedule looks like (and yes, it's in my day planner):

Laundry - I typically do 5 loads by the time I wash sheets and rugs.
Change Sheets - I change our sheets and both cribs - whoever invented bumper pads was both brilliant and sadistic.
Clean Bathrooms - I clean sinks, tubs, toilets, mirrors and baseboards - I cannot tolerate hairspray buildup.
Sweep Bathrooms and Kitchen
Mop Bathrooms and Kitchen
Vacuum
Clean Nurseries - This includes picking up the toys, dusting, switching out the changing pad covers and sterilizing the humidifiers.
Clean Glass - This includes the television screens, storm door, French door, and any mirrors within reach of tiny, sticky hands.
Clean Walls and Doors - I single-handedly keep the Magic Eraser company in business.
Clean Out Refrigerator - This includes wiping down all shelves and drawers, as well as throwing out the moldy leftovers.
Clean Kitchen
Dust - This includes ceiling fans and baseboards.
Sterilize Toys
Clean Hair and Makeup Brushes

Even as I type this, I realize the craziness of it. It is incredibly hard to accomplish even half of this with two babies each and every Monday. Let's just say I start my day early, end it late and make good use of their nap times.

This insanity all started innocently enough. In those first few, simple weeks after Isabella was born, I found myself keenly aware of my new life as a stay-at-home mom. For the first time since I was 16, I found myself without a job outside the home, so I decided I would do everything in my power to run my home as efficiently as I ran my office before I left my job managing the editorship of an internationally-distributed medical journal; I was definitely a pro at meeting deadlines, making schedules and nit-picking details.

Since my sweet baby slept 18 hours a day, I would use all of this new-found time to run the most efficient, clean, and well-organized home I could imagine. I dreamed of being Donna Reed, Martha Stewart and Bree Van De Kamp all rolled into one coiffed, well-manicured, and well-made-up hot mama. You know the type, the ones who look like they just walked out of a Ralph Lauren ad and into the front door of their home in the Hamptons?

(Trifecta of Domestic Divas)

Needless to say, I never quite succeeded on this point (no matter how much I love high heels and pearls), but it was my fantasy, and the first step, I believed, was formulating and maintaining a weekly cleaning schedule. Don't ask me why.

I had tons of time and tons of energy in those early days. I determined I would come up with a schedule and stick to it, no matter what. And I did. It was difficult at times and I frequently struggled with issues like, "Is this all I'm good for these days?" and "My house looks really good, but so what? Is this why I went to grad school?" (Postpartum hormones and no one to talk to but an infant can cause your mind to come up with some pretty self-destructive thoughts). I decided the best thing to do would be to make Monday my "Cleaning Day" and then get out of the house as much as possible during the rest of the week and enjoy the world with the beautiful new blessing God had given me. Once I came to this conclusion, it became the most fulfilling time of my life. Phillip would come home from work and the house would be clean, dinner would be made, and I would be energized.

"Cleaning Monday" became a way of life. Once I worked it into my weekly schedule, it was hard to think of Monday as anything else. Isabella gradually began to sleep less, crawl more and get into everything she could reach, but I managed to keep up with my schedule...that is, until Isabella was 10-months-old. Ladies, forget what you've been told about birth control, breastfeeding and infertility; if it's meant for you to get pregnant, you're going to get pregnant. I am not one who deals well with change, especially major, life-altering curve balls thrown straight from God's pitching arm. Imagine my shock when that little stick turned purple after trying two years to get pregnant with Isabella, knowing all the while that I was religiously taking the pill and breastfeeding a 10-month-old. There was no doubt about it; Sophia was meant to be and life was about to change again.

Well, my sweet Sophia will be one-year-old on Saturday, and though I still have my weekly "Cleaning Day," I am no longer as efficient as I once was. I now do part of my cleaning on Sunday night and am sometimes still working when Phillip gets home from work. I certainly don't look like Donna Reed when he walks in the door, and I am frequently irritable and frustrated that I didn't get everything done.

So why do I do this to myself each and every Monday? Why not spread out the jobs over the course of the week? Well, to me, there is just something so incredibly satisfying about knowing that your entire house is clean all at once. It is wonderful knowing that for the rest of the week, I only need to make beds, clean the kitchen after dinner and pick up the general clutter, or at least that was the original plan. Now, the "general clutter" has amassed, I'm lucky to get the beds made by noon and I'm so tired after the girls' bath time, that sometimes the kitchen just has to wait. So much for living like the Trifecta of Domestic Divas, and it just kills my obsessive-compulsive soul to admit that.

My Obsessive-Compulsiveness is Going to be the Death of Me - I've Noted It in My Day Planner

2009-03-12T13:19:00.003-04:00

I have quirks. To some extent, we all do, right? Apparently, I have a higher proportion than most, so Phillip has lovingly come up with numerous names for them. In fact, he often quotes a line from Frasier (our very favorite show in the world) when referring to these oddities of mine,

"I've become attuned to her various quirks...eccentricities...bugaboos...bête noires...night terrors...that's the fun of being in love."

Very funny. Anyway, among my many idiosyncrasies is a paralyzing fear of fire, anxiety about bad news arriving in the mail, and an inexplicable terror of volcanoes. The sheer oddness of these oddities is extreme, and the obsessive-compulsiveness of it all has, I'm sure, made me rather hard to live with from time to time. I have called neighbors from restaurants asking them to look through my French door to make sure I had blown out candles in the kitchen. I have worried relentlessly while on vacation that we might have bad news in our mailbox when we return home. (To be clear, the only bad news we have ever really received in the mail was from our insurance company back in 2005. It turned out to be nothing, but it caused me considerable worry until it was resolved; since that time I worry about the many negative effects the mail carrier could inflict on my ability to sleep just by doing his job). Finally, the fear of volcanoes is the strangest quirk of all, as I have never even seen one in person, but to this day can not so much as look at a picture of one without shaking. (I even had to tape another photo over the cover of my college Geography text book, because guess what was on the cover).

Okay, so those of you who already know me think I'm crazy, and those of you who don't are glad you've never met me. I am really trying to do better about my worries, because I am desperately afraid of inflicting these same character traits on my little girls. As it is, Phillip must really love me to put up with it.

I have been a champion worrier all my life, and depending on my current mood, the worries can seem small or overwhelming. The fact that I am writing about this on my blog with self-deprecating humor is indicative that I know these fears are, for the most part, ridiculous and baseless. The fear of fire and volcanoes has been with me my entire life, and I'm sure they can be traced back to some television show I saw as a kid, but even so, I've never quite been able to shake those fears completely. I suppose that fear of the unknown has always been my biggest worry. "What will be on the test?" "What will the doctor say?" "What will the postman bring today?" You get the picture. You should have seen me when I was pregnant. It's truly a wonder that my children weren't born with gray hair and ulcers. But I digress...

So how do I attempt to combat this problem? How am I able to go about my day-to-day life as a wife and mother of two, who grocery shops, has play dates, and picks up her husband's suits at the dry cleaners? (You didn't know my life was this exciting, did you?) How do I not become an agoraphobic who hides in bed with a pillow over her head? I'm glad you asked. My secret is this:

Those of you who know me best know that I am rarely without this little item. Those of you who have known me longest know that I have rarely been without one of these at any point in the last 20 years.

I have had several day planners over the years. I think I received my first one was when I was just 9-years-old; it was a little aqua-colored plastic one that my mom bought for me at Claire's Boutique. As I got older, they changed in size, color, price and functionality. I get attached to each one in a slightly different way. Each one holds my life between its binding and when I inevitably upgrade after a few years, I must mourn the retirement of my previous one. Yes, friends, my day-planner is the secret to my success.

As a true aficionado of day planners, I have tried many and found much dissatisfaction with most. However, when I was 19, I discovered that you cannot improve upon a Franklin Covey Planning System. I have had three FC binders in the past 11 years, and have treasured them all. Inside the smooth leather binding is a world of possibilities for the obsessive-compulsive. There are calendars, notepads, and lines galore to record every possible "what-if" and "what-will-be" of my life. While it cannot keep me from worrying about fires, mail and volcanoes, it does provide me with a sense of control over the unknown. Don't settle for imitations, and for heaven's sake, don't go electronic! The old-fashioned-paper-pages-you-can-flip-through type is the best. I urge you to go out and find your own day planner; make it your own with accessories, colored pens, highlighters, and post-its. I promise, it will change your life, too.

(Yes, I take it on vacation, to church and even on my date nights. I can't help it. I am who I am and who I am is a wife and mommy who loves her day planner.)

Where Did the Time Go?

2009-03-12T11:16:00.007-04:00

Well, my littlest angel is now standing unassisted. Wasn't she born yesterday? It sure seems like it.

(This was taken the day we brought her home from the hospital.)

I would love to capture a photo of her standing, but every time I catch her, she decides to grab at my camera, and then the unavoidable topple occurs. Oh, well.

Hopefull, I can get a photo to share soon. She seems utterly mystified when she realizes what she's doing, and then decides to think about it for awhile, on her bottom, of course.

Healthy Days are Here Again

2009-03-05T16:47:00.002-05:00

After unloading in my last entry about the sickness that has overwhelmed my family, I am happy to report that my family is once again back to normal. I took Isabella to the pediatrician on Tuesday because she was still running a low-grade fever. I was thrilled to find out that her ears, throat and chest were all clear and the fever was an anomaly and was expected to disappear at any time. Sure enough, by Wednesday morning, she was fever-free and back to normal.

She got to go back to preschool today, which she had missed so much. Her teacher, Mrs. Juanita, said that Isabella danced around the classroom on her toes all morning and was too excited to eat her lunch or watch the short film they were showing in honor of Dr. Seuss Week. It makes a mommy so happy to hear news like that.

Since both she and Sophia were so feeling well, and because it has been such a beautiful day, I thought I would take them to the mall this afternoon to pick up a couple of gifts . Big mistake! For those of you who know me best, you know I have never been one to stay home just because I have two little bitties. I love getting out with my girls and 99% of the time, it is largely uneventful. Today was one of the exceptions. When we are home, my girls take a three-hour nap from noon to 3:00 p.m. On preschool days, this schedule is disrupted; Isabella gets about a 45-minute nap and Sophia is lucky to get a cat nap before we have to pick up her sister. This was apparently not enough sleep to make it through even one store before we had two meltdowns, which culminated in Isabella dropping her Disney Princess sippy cup "somewhere" in JC Penney, which prompted me to go on a 10-minute hunting expedition, only to discover that the "somewhere" she had dropped it was underneath her seat in the stroller. In other words, we had had it the entire time and did not need to bother the two salespeople and countless customers I encountered on my search. Fun times.

On a slightly related note, while I was at JC Penney, I took note of several tops, purses and pairs of shoes I wanted to investigate for my Spring/Summer wardrobe, which currently consists of several faded, stained or otherwise embarrassing items and two pairs of pajamas. It looks like I'll be wearing the pajamas when I go out because there is nothing appealing about the thought of locking myself into a dressing room with my double-stroller, a toddler, a 1-year-old, the latest Spring fashions and two impending meltdowns. If you have any suggestions, I would love to hear them.

Bring on Spring!

2009-03-01T12:18:00.000-05:00

I don't know about everyone else, but I am completely over winter. When I was in college, it really was one of my favorite times of year. I loved walking across campus in the cold and refreshing air, while drinking my coffee, and getting to wear my pretty sweaters, coats and mittens. Of course, I still love the pretty sweaters, coats and mittens, but now they are of a much smaller size and cause me great consternation as I struggle to get them onto the wiggly bodies of my two babies, while exclaiming to Phillip, "Are their ears covered?!"

My children, thankfully, are extremely healthy 99% of the time. The last couple of weeks, however, have been the exception. With our recent swings in temperature of fifty degrees Fahrenheit, Sophia developed a little cold about 2 weeks ago, a seemingly no-big-deal thing. But being 11 months old, she sees no reason why this should stop her from putting Isabella's sippy cups and pacifiers into her mouth anytime she feels like it, despite my very best efforts to intercede. (Oddly, Sophia refuses a paci of her own, but something about Sister's paci just seems so appealing to her).

Of course, Isabella came down with a cold as well, and lucky me, I had two coughing, sneezing, dripping, whiny babies. This wouldn't have been so bad, as kids are super-resilient and tend to get over these things with speed found only in the youngest immune systems. However, as luck would have it, Phillip managed to get it, too. Now I have 3 pitiful babies to take care of. Okay, that's fine. Mommies do this all the time, right?

Now, let's add to the mix that Sophia's temperature hasn't been below 99 for 8 days and I'm starting to get a little concerned about ear infections. Sure enough, I take her to the doctor and she has a double ear infection, even though she has been playing, eating and acting fine for days. So, now we begin the antibiotic regimen. No problem, right? Well, the fun thing about amoxicillin is that it can cause "mild" diarrhea in children. There was nothing "mild" about it where my sweet Sophia was concerned. We were up through the night changing not only diapers, but also her pajamas - I'm sure you can guess why. Life was becoming even more fun.

I think the best part of the last few weeks was when my handsome husband woke up yelling in pain during the night last Saturday with a pinched sciatic nerve. I don't know how he did it, but now I had one with an ear infection and diarrhea, one with the remnants of a cold, and one flat on his back in the floor, unable to move at all. Phillip, being the caring father that he is, didn't want his little girls to get scared by seeing their daddy in so much pain. He asked me run interference between him and them, which I did - like I had nothing else to occupy me.

While Phillip is literally in the worst pain of his life and I am worried sick that he perhaps has something worse than a pinched nerve wrong with him, Isabella is still concerning me because like her sister a few days before, her temperature just won't be normal! After two miserable days and nights of seeing Phillip in pain and helping him do everything from eat, to shower, to roll over (keeping in mind he still has his cold, which is causing him even more intense pain each time he blows his nose or coughs), I am able to leave him long enough with the help of my sister-in-law, to take Isabella to the doctor. Sure enough, Isabella also has an ear infection. So, more antibiotics, more diarrhea, more nighttime fun. The blessings just seemed to keep coming.

Finally, after much worry and prayer, it seemed like my little household was getting back to normal. Phillip was able to work from home on Tuesday and was back in the office Wednesday morning, the girls' diarrhea had tapered off and they seemed to be back to their sweet, playful, precious selves. Life was good again, or so I thought. I really need to not let myself get lulled into a false sense of security. This morning, Isabella woke up whiny and with a temperature of 101. I am just praying that it is simply a fluke or one of those "toddler things" that pop up for no good reason and goes away before you know it. I realize that it is impossible to get the same bug twice and she is still taking her amoxicillin, but she could also have a whole new bug and is now poised and ready to give it to Sophia again, and God help me, Phillip, too.

I have never been more ready for spring.

"Eat, Sister! Eat!"

2009-02-11T15:44:00.000-05:00

When Phillip sat down to feed Sophia her gourmet dinner of pureed turkey and sweet potatoes last night, Isabella decided she would do it for him. As soon as she saw what daddy was about to do, she promptly climbed into his lap and announced, "Isabella do it for you!" She took the spoon out of his hand and proceeded to shovel food into Sophia's mouth, all the while shouting, "Eat, Sister! Eat! Sopheewa eat the baby food!" It was really very sweet.

Star-gazing with Daddy

2009-02-11T15:17:00.000-05:00

A few years ago, Phillip developed an interest in astronomy. He has a computerized telescope that will find any point in the sky simply by plugging it into a little hand-held device. The last few nights we have enjoyed a beautiful, nearly-full moon, so Phillip decided to show it to Isabella through the telescope.

While she wasn't too excited about putting her eye up against the strange contraption, she did have a really great time running around the yard pointing to the sky yelling, "Moon! Stars! Planets!"

"Baby Galileo" has always been one of her very favorite Baby Einstein DVDs. Who knows, maybe we have a little astronomer-in-training.