Forced into a Life of Crime

This is a random internet basil photo.

A couple of weeks ago I was meeting up with my friend Laura to start seedlings. We wanted to plant some herbs and stuff. Strangely enough I had no seeds for basil anywhere in my very impressive seed stash. So I ran around town looking for seeds; wouldn't you know that Wyoming stores don't really sell seeds year round. I finally found a small greenhouse kit that came with basil seeds. The kit was cool too so I bought it and went on my merry way.

A few days later I was putting the garden kit together when I discovered that the lid of the kit was supposed to be sold separately from the base. I thought that was kind of a money grabbing scheme, but it didn't really matter what I thought---technically I had stolen the lid. I planned to return and pay for it the next day.

Then something came up and then some other stuff. Before you knew it two weeks had passed. I didn't want to be one of those people who are too lazy to simply do the right thing. So yesterday Cordelia and I swung by the store to pay for the accidentally stolen item.

After searching for the product and coming up short I went to the help desk and laid it all out.  The two guys were surprised that I had come in and kept thanking me, which kinda bummed me out, that shouldn't be unusual. Cordelia kept loudly asking,"What did you steal mom!???"

The guys searched the system for about ten minutes and came up empty handed. Apparently the item was discontinued. I asked if I could just give them money. The would not let me. They forced me into thievery. 

I had hoped to teach Cordelia a lesson about honesty and accountability, but I think she learned that you can get away with stealing.

Bittersweet

Eric has been digging through old photos for a retrospective show of his photography. He has to mine through years of photos and in doing so we have been uncovering a lot of baby photos of the girls. Last night we got sidetracked and ended up looking at baby photos, our hearts aching a bit. How is it that life has moved so quickly?

It hit me that Elise is no longer a baby. That we are done with having a baby in our home. That is fine, people can't and shouldn't just have kids because they can, but it is sad sometimes to realize that another chapter of our life has closed.

I have been focused on helping each girl advance and grow. Crawling, walking, talking, weaning, potty training, sleeping through the night, dressing themselves, reading, etc. All of these things are so good and come with freedoms for both our children and for us as parents. Honestly the idea of going back to sleepless newborn nights could make me cry from exhaustion. However, my heart also knows that it will forever miss those two in the morning snuggles with a tiny baby in my arms, no matter how tired I may have been.


Elise

Last night after we finished looking at photos I went quietly upstairs and watched those girls sleep. Cordelia on the top bunk of her bed, Elise in her big girl bed. I could see the girls and someday the women they will become, but I can still see the baby that they were. I imagine that it will always be this way.


Cordelia

Parenting is a bittersweet business. Each new development means letting go of something that was so precious. I am very happy to be on this journey as a family, but oh how it makes my heart ache as we pass into each new phase. On the one hand I have slept through the night several times in recent months, I am able to communicate with sick children (so much easier than trying to figure out what is bothering a baby). The girls are more independent and confident in themselves, not leaning so hard on us--which is good, really it is so important. I love watching these girls become who they are, letting them follow their dreams and passions is the real gift here. Though I will always have a tear or two to shed for those babies who will never nestle into the crook of my arm at two in the morning. For now it is such a treasure to accept hand-made hearts inscribed with Cordelia's five-year old handwriting, "To Mom I love you. Cordelia" or to have Elise tell me that she just needs a "Mommy nuggle (that is snuggle)." That is just about as sweet as can be.

Better For It

The day I found out I was pregnant with Cordelia was such an exciting time. I remember feeling great joy and anticipation for tender moments and relishing in the beauty of infancy and childhood, but that night as I lay down to simply go to sleep I knew that things were going to change. I lay my hand on my still flat belly and thought of the baby that was growing somewhere in there and I realized that sleep, even the fitful sleep of the chronic insomniac, was about to be taken away from me. I imagined that I'd have trouble getting enough sleep for the first year of motherhood. I had visions of serenely putting our child down under a moonlit glow. Perhaps I'd softly sing and nod off in a rocking chair. Ha ha! The reality is that I have slept through one night (ONE!) since sometime before Cordelia was born, so some time in 2009. Sure, there have been moments of serenity, but there are also moments when I have endured throat punches and donkey kicks to the gut from my offspring as they wailed at three in the morning. Sometimes I handle those moments with the grace and dignity of a saint. More often than not I find myself wiping drool from the corner of my mouth as I mumble to my innocent child, "What's your deal kid?"

The past week month nearly five years has been extremely challenging because motherhood (really parenthood) is crazy complicated. I mention the sleep thing because it has really added an edge to parenthood that I didn't properly anticipate. Yes, there are the expected childhood temper tantrums from time to time, but man alive are they difficult to navigate in a mature fashion when you are operating on three hours of sleep and something, somewhere, smells like poo.

Motherhood is tricky business. Yep, everyone says that I know, but really it is super duper tough if you are trying to do it right. Some days I am like mom of the century. We do mom school and crafting, nature hikes, snuggles, books, fun, games, etc. Those days are so great, the kids are darling and I think, "Why is everyone so weird about how tough motherhood is?" Then there are days like yesterday. Somewhere in the night Elise found her way to our bed, she was cradled in my arms at such a way that I still have a kink in my neck. I had just gotten her to sleep after some sort of situation with a leg cramp and I was drifting off into that place that some people refer to as sleep (can't be sure as I haven't been there for quite some time) when I heard the familiar thud of Cordelia's footsteps (she weighs 30 pounds but you'd never know it by her thunderous stomps). Desperate for sleep I called her to bed for a snuggle. I kind of started to drift off when Cordelia started obsessively sniffing. I told her to grab a kleenex, she did. Back in bed then I was just drifting off, one arm under each girl, Eric crammed way over to his side, when Cordelia pulled my hair and whispered loud enough to wake Elise. Sigh, we were up...it was 5am.

From there on out is was a whine festival throughout much of the day. Both girls were tired and cranky, but I couldn't get a nap out of them---it was like trying to squeeze water from a stone. So I endured. I worked to distract, engage, entertain, anything. The mood fluctuated in such a way that I felt like this must surely be what it is like to actually be insane. When we ran to the store as a family later in the day Eric broke off to track down an item and then he texted me to find out where we were in the store. My response was, "Just listen for the whining." He did and was able to track us down. When we got home it was dinner, some time outs, some whining. I was at my limit. Eric had band practice and I needed a change of scenery so I leashed up the dogs and put the girls into the stroller (yes one person with two dogs and two kids is a sight to see) and we went outside.

Cordelia had brought along a sketch book and was sketching what she saw. She would ask me to guess each drawing. The dogs trotted merrily along. Elise happily chattered. It was good. I was happy. We were all happy. Then it hit me, this business isn't even supposed to be easy is it? I mean, what would be the point if it was all smooth sailing? Yesterday was a rough day, but we got through it and I learned a lot about myself and our children. I learned that I can handle a lot, a lot more than I ever knew. I mean yesterday was hard, but I have endured really terrible days and a whiney kid day is no big deal. Yesterday was an opportunity, it just took me most of the day to realize that fact. I had the opportunity to choose how I reacted. I got to see some of my strengths (I can come up with some awesome activities) and weaknesses (I get a little lot sarcastic when I am stressed and tired). Now it is my job to become better for it, better for these girls, better for myself. Every day is a lesson learned and that is one of the best parts of parenthood.

From the Other Side

Yesterday was kind of rough. Elise was sick and it made for a long and miserable day for her, and the family by extension. Her fever kept trying to creep up into the scary zone over 104 and it was a near constant battle to keep that in check. Mostly she just wanted to be in my arms, whispering (she whispers when ill and it is heartrendingly cute), "Need Mama, nuggle (snuggle)." She would fold up into a quite ball on my chest and sweat and shiver and rapidly breathe.

I called the doctor two minutes after they opened yesterday morning and asked for an appointment. The woman on the other end of the line was sympathetic to a point. She was all, "Poor baby!" and "Let's get her in quick." Then she told me that Elise's appointment was at 2:20. I had been hoping for immediately. When I asked the receptionist, "2:20? Really??" She lost her empathy and said, rather curtly, "Yes. Really." Yeeouch! Eric told me I got served. I didn't let it bother me as I know Elise wasn't in mortal peril or anything, she was just uncomfortable. So we made it through the morning.

Around lunch time Elise just grabbed her ears and laid her head on the table. She did manage to whisper a request for chocolate chips. That's my girl. Eric came home to stay with Cordelia while I took Elise in for her visit. Cordelia could have come along, but I sure appreciate that Eric stayed with her. For one reason, Cordelia would have been trying to sing the soundtrack to Frozen to the doctor---she does that. Also, she just needed a little attention, a sick baby kind of steals the spotlight from lively four year olds.



When we made it to the doctor Elise was miserable. Her temp was hovering around 104 and she remembered being at the doctor for her last visit (shots) and was not happy at all. The doctor took just a couple of minutes to diagnose what we already knew, ear infection. He also threw in a bonus throat infection. He decided not to swab as she needed antibiotics anyway.

So, she got her medication and somewhere around midnight last night things began to improve. Her fever disappeared. Her slumber was quiet and restful, and by extension so was mine. Today she is back in action, as I am typing this she is running around like crazy. Kids know how to do the rebound business. I could use another day of recovery, but I will settle for chasing around a happy and healthy baby.

Flair for the Dramatics

Last night the whole fam, including my parents were out for a walk in their neighborhood. It was warm-ish, by that I mean it was above freezing. We did that thing that northerners do, we pretended that it was totally spring even though the mountains, a ten minute drive away, are still covered in feet of snow. I am sure it was some Wyomingite who is to blame for the sock/sandal plague that breaks out each spring. We were all wearing coats, but regretted leaving our gloves behind as it got pretty chilly as we rounded the last half block home.

Cordelia and I decided to run, because it was fun and a good way to warm up a bit. She fell, it was inevitable. Kids are always falling and getting hurt. She wiped out and I employed the age old law of parenting, do not look concerned at all. I put on my very best casual face as she looked up at me with the, "Should I freak out?" look that kids give to their parents. Thankfully the situation was fine, a slightly skinned knee and a tear in her pants. She's had skinned knees before, but now that she is really growing into her personality we got to see something new. Our little lady used this as an opportunity for a little drama.

She cried for a moment when she fell, but was quickly back to running with me. I redirected her with talk about a crazy patch for her pants and an invitation to beat the rest of the gang back to my parent's house. When we got home an hour or so later she discovered the blood on her knee, apparently it had escaped her attention at the scene of the fall, but now with her knees bared she could see the full extent of the damage. I am pretty sure she was secretly thrilled as she is always wanting a band-aid for any minor bump. I have told her time and again that band-aids are for blood. So there was no talking her out of one this time. Truth be told it was an extremely minor scrape, but who were Eric and I to stand in the way of her dramatic moment?

So Eric cleaned the injury and put a bandage on it and she was ready to go. Actually there was some drama with the cleaning of the injury as well, apparently the pain of a gentle cleansing was excruciating. She gives the absolute best tragic face and it was fully employed. Her eyebrows raise up into little peaks in the center of her face, furrowed brow. Her little pout is a tearjerker; her lips quiver and the corners of her mouth seem to pull down her entire visage. Really, she is quite a natural talent.

She also limped around every time she remembered that she was "hurt." Eric and I tried to conceal our smirks and giggles, not making fun of what I am sure felt like a very honest reaction to our four year old little lady. She requested some special snuggle time and I was happy to oblige. We read a book and then she recapped the dramatic fall, asking why I had let her fall. I did manage to hide a sigh and an eye roll, barely. Seriously, you'd think the girl had been to war or something. Where does she get this?

This morning when she woke up she was back to normal until she spotted that knee. Thanks to Elise for pointing to it and asking, "OK Delia?" So, then there was more limping for a bit. She was back to normal when she remembered it is St. Patrick's Day, so we are probably in the clear until the next small injury.

Ice Cream Social Minus the Social

 

Cordelia is home from preschool this week as preschool takes a spring break right along with the school system. This means that I've had some more time with both girls and I have been trying to come up with something that makes each day feel a little bit special. Yesterday afternoon I promised a soy ice cream social. Since Elise is working on a little cold we skipped the social part and just had our own little vegan ice cream party.

This means that the girls played dress up. Cordelia chose a dress that made her feel like a snow queen (yes, her obsession with Frozen continues) and Elise chose this orange number that was once mine. Elise then insisted on orange hair ties. She plead her case tearfully calling out, "Oh-een-ge! Hay Ties!" She looked a bit like an adorable baby clown, but she was pleased with the statement she made.

I pulled out the two types of soy ice cream that we had in the  freezer and put a couple of little dishes filled with sprinkles onto the table.I scooped each girl a bit of chocolate and vanilla. Elise freaked out. She's been a little weird about food touching lately and apparently that issue, coupled with illness, was just too much for her yesterday. She had a full fledged meltdown, grabbing the chocolate in her hand and flinging it from her bowl. I may have worsened the situation by laughing to the point of tears. She just looked so charming with her strange clothes and her defiant attitude.




Cordelia was all, huh!?









Eventually Elise got over it and ate her ice cream. She clutched her clean spoon in one hand and used the other to shovel the vanilla into her mouth.





Cordelia went to town on her ice cream and then helped herself to the sprinkles, spooning them directly into her mouth. Obviously I wasn't too concerned as I continued to take photos in lieu of parenting the situation.





The sprinkles didn't make it. They fell all over the floor as dogs and four year old scrambled to eat them from the ground. Elise would have followed suit, but she was strapped into her booster.

 

Overall I was very thankful that the social was not so much a social, but both girls had a good and messy time.

So to recap:
1. Dress up
2. Soy ice cream
3.Tears
4. Questionable parenting
5. Messes

Ten Things Your Children are Teaching You

Children are great teachers, if we remember to look to them for lessons. Today I wanted to share a few lessons that I continue to learn from my kids.

1. Wake up happy. Oh sure, it is easy to whine about how early it is, how you had to stay up late to finish a project, how you need coffee, whatever. Kids skip that bit and wake up ready and excited for the day ahead. 

2. Sing and dance like a crazy person. Who cares if you can't hit a note? Go for it anyway and don't break eye contact as you hit that wrong note, just hold it and if you're feeling crazy go louder. 

When you dance flail your arms, spin, bob your head, just do what feels good and don't care what anybody else thinks, unless it looks fun to you, then give it your best try.

Also, doesn't matter so much if you are singing or dancing to music. Just do your own thing.

3. Use your body all the time. Your body is crazy, kids get that. You can jump and run and do cart wheels. Your physical being is with you every single day you are here. Work with it and it will work for you. Bonus points for being amazed at all it does for you.

4. Don't worry about how other perceive you. Don't worry about pimples or wrinkles, or anything that doesn't actually hurt. A bad haircut or thick thighs don't stop a toddler from having a good time and you shouldn't let them stop you either.

5. Use your imagination. It changes everything. Life is so much better, so muh richer the more you use your creativity. Imagine how your life could be. Imagine talking horses or (if you are super boring) a new way to organize your filing system.

6. Love hard. Hug and kiss and hold hands with those you love. Let them know that they are cared for deeply. Kids understand that love is the most important of all things in life.

7. Don't worry so much about being clean. The world is germs and gross, but get over it. Have fun and don't worry so much about mud and dirt. Clean yourself the necessary amount, then let it go.

8. Express how you feel. Perhaps skip the toddler style meltdown, but don't be afraid to let others know how you feel. A lot of time and energy would be saved if people were just clear about their emotions.

9. Learn and learn and learn. Ask questions and seek out the answers.

10. Make fun a priority. What is the point in sucking the joy from life. You fall down, you get back up. You are hurt, you cry and then move forward, perhaps a little wiser. No matter what the goal is to get back to the fun as quickly as possible.

How Rude!

This morning there was a light dusting of fresh snow outside. Inside of our home it was a bit chilly. I turned up the heat and then I grabbed a pair of socks and put them on my feet before I went about my morning business of preparing breakfast and packing a lunch for Eric. The girls did their usual thing. Lately this means that they run around like crazy. 

When I walked into the kitchen to prepare some scrambled tofu the girls were pretending to be magical talking kittens. There was a lot of meowing, Elise following her sister's lead. Cordelia told me that she was the type of kitten who could suck her hairs in and look like a human. I was vaguely creeped out.

I filled their glasses with vegetable juice, mine with orange juice because I think vegetable juice tastes like scabs probably taste. I am not willing to test my theory, so a theory it shall remain.

I noticed that things had become a little quiet. Eric was getting ready so I knew they were on my watch. Parenting 101 teaches us all that silence is never golden. Usually this means that something is being painted that shouldn't be painted or that things are being dropped into the toilet bowl. They'd been out of my sight for just a moment so I was hopeful that they hadn't had time to do much damage.

I found them in the next room on their knees, hands folded, eyes closed, praying.

Cordelia led the serious prayer pausing as Elise repeated:

Cordelia: Dear God

Elise: Dee Gah

Cordelia: Please help mom.

Elise: Peas momma

Here my heart swelled as I thought Cordelia was thinking about how hard and exhausting it is to be a mother...

Cordelia: Not to have those socks anymore.

Elise: No socks!

Cordelia: Amen

Elise: ayyyymen

Rude!

Second Child

 

Being a mother of one was fairly quiet. Sure there was occasional crying, but not really that much. I was there to meet needs at any given moment. She needed a change, it was done  right away. She was hungry, there I was was. When she was tiny I napped when she napped. Later I read books while baby Cordelia slept. I took long walks with a tiny baby snugly tucked into my Maya wrap, basset hound leash in one hand. The routine was set in stone, steady, slow. My job required me to be away only one night a week. Life was quiet and simple. I didn't get out much as we were new to our community and I didn't really have many friends or acquaintances. Cordelia had my full attention, for better or worse.

The second time around is very different. My attention has been divided from the beginning. Even as I labored to bring Elise into this world I had my first born on my mind as well. Elise came into the world with her own level of chaos, to be sure. She was ready to go, furious about this baby business. Nap times were opportunities to give my first born the attention she craved. I read my books in the middle of the night, nursing a newly born infant and wondering if Cordelia would be up before the sun, again. Cordelia was born into a marriage, two people who were willing to make a family. Elise born into a family.

I think it is wonderful and probably for the best that my attention is divided to keep me from being a weird hover mom. Giving attention and love to both of my girls was troubling at first. I didn't know how I could juggle it so that the needs of both children, not to mention a fantastic marriage, were all met. I agonized over little things...missing moments with one or the other.

Then, somewhere around last January, probably right as I was coming out of a touch of post-partum depression, I chilled out---big time. Now, I don't agonize about things. Needs are met, some are not and that is a good opportunity for our kids to grow. I realize that it isn't only me that is contributing to the growth of these girls and I remind myself that they have so many people who are helping them to grow.

While I certainly have far fewer quiet moments with Elise I do relish those that I do get with her. I smell her sweet little head. I watch her face react to dreams. I know I should put her down and all, but sometimes I just hold her, knowing that these months are going by all too quickly. Someday, not long from now, I will look back on the crazy days that made up Elise's first years, the chaos, the joy, the noise that come with a family and I will cherish those moments where it was just a mother holding a baby.

With the Girls

I remember waiting desperately for time to pass when I was a child. It seemed that each day took forever, that I would always be too young. I am sure you remember that too. Longing for the days when you could ride a bike, drive a car, stay out with friends, whatever. Then they were there and gone. Mostly I am fine with that business, goodness knows my teen years lasted long enough for everyone involved.

Yet, here I am longing for the clock to stall, not wanting these little ladies to grow up too quickly. While I am excited to see the girls and women they will become, I can't shake the feeling that I need to hold on to the now a little tighter.The days are passing too quickly. Life with my little girls is such a treasure, all of it. The nonsense, the good times, the tears, the tantrums.I wouldn't trade one second of it.

Yesterday, while Cordelia was at school, Elise and I played around in the basement. Rolling on the floor, giggling, cuddling, tickling...just being a mother and daughter.





Later Cordelia showed us her yoga moves while Elise danced around in awe of her big sister's ability to stand on one foot.







Finally, Cordelia requested face masks...so her wish was granted.

Scarf Box

So I am going to come out and admit it here and now. When I first became a mother I had never heard of the term sensory play (gasp in horror if you must). I mean, obviously it is self-explanatory and something most parents do intuitively, but I didn't know it was like a thing with a name. It's sort of like calling hair brushing follicular massage...it's something we all do, but some genius decided to name it.

Anyway, when a mother at story time at the library happened to talk about her baby and sensory play I was confused. What was this business of sensory play? Was there something I didn't know? Would my child be behind in life because I hadn't kept up on the terminology?

OK I totally did not ask those questions, that is not me. I was vaguely interested and googled the term and realized that it was exactly as it sounded, play that engages the senses. Something every parent does without trying. Just hand your kid keys while you are in line at the grocery store and boom, sensory play.

Anyway I don't mean to sound snarky about it, because we love us some sensory play and the whole point of this post is to show you some totally adorable (totz adorbs?) photos of my girls engaging in some sensory play. We enjoy our scarf box around here. It is a box of my scarves, not something I specially made for the girls. They just haul out my vintage scarves and twirl and play dress up and peek-a-boo, it's awesome and they can go at it for a long time.



Here we have Elise discovering the box.


She examines a scarf tentatively


She realizes that there are more, many more


She digs in, adorable.


Cordelia gets in on the action, adorable


I answer the call of the scarves and put one on myself


Elise is not happy when I put a scarf on, not at all


Then we put all of the scarves onto Cordelia


She looks like a post-apocalyptic gypsy from Beyond the Thunderdome


A really charming post apocalyptic gypsy


Elise was not impressed and she was all, "wwwwaaaaahhh." and I was like, "quit being a baby." Not really, I just pulled her into my lap for snuggles and this....


Now I must bid you adieu and engage in some follicular massage.

Questions

Cordelia is four. Do you know what that means? She asks questions, all of the time. I love how interested she is in the world and those questions come from a vibrant and curious mind. I just thought today that I would share some of the questions that I regularly hear. I challenge you to, in your mind, answer some of these.

• Why is the sunset a pinky color?
• What do you think the robot on Mars is doing right now?
• What do you think killed all of the dinosaurs?
• What happens when we get buried in the ground and our faces tear off (UMMM? WHAT!?!?)?
• Why do I have to poop?
• Why isn't everyone vegan?
• When will I die?
• When will ____ die?
• How come the Earth puts a shadow on the moon?
• Is everybody in Australia having breakfast now (at night here)?
• Why can't dogs talk?
• Why are people sometimes mean?
• What makes wind?
• Why is Pluto not a planet?
• Why can't I have dessert for breakfast?
• Why do I have to brush my hair?
•  Why do dogs have to have baths?
• What is my destiny?---I kid you not!

I think you get the idea. She has questions for every second of every day. She wants to know about the world, the stars, people, animals, food, interactions, etc. I love how often her questions give me pause as I reflect on the answer I want to give, the best answer. For instance yesterday she wanted to know about war (it was Veteran's Day) and she'd heard information about how the Veteran's protect us from bad guys.While I appreciate that someone was just trying to explain things in a simple way I couldn't let that stand. So we ended up having a discussion about how there are not really many bad people, but people who do bad things or different things. I felt good about it and then the mother in me had to remind her not to talk to strangers, you know because they could be bad guys, and of course things went forward from there. I have no idea what she retained from that or any conversation we have, but at least we are both talking and thinking about the world in which we live.

That Woman

You know you've seen that woman. The lady in grocery store with a mystery stain (spit up) running down the front of her coat. The obviously ill children. The kids cough and drip snot. You think, "Why are those kids out?!" The mother looks dazed and rather oblivious. You judge, it just happens. Then you find yourself in close proximity as you have to get that can of olives she's zoned out next to and you smell it. One of those kids has left a big stink in the wake of their shopping cart, which is filled with a totally random assortment of purchases that does not seem to justify the excursion.That woman is me. Here is my story....

So, Thursday night/ Friday morning was probably our most intense night as parents. Two sick kids had us tag teaming it for a while, but then Eric had to tag out as he had a full day of work. So I found myself at 4:30 in the morning, a few 15 minutes of ZZZs under my belted bathrobe, with Cordelia reclining against me coughing and talking. I strained my ears, listening for the telltale wake-up sounds of Elise. When she awoke at 5am we went to the family room and just sat around in a total daze, the girls coughing and whining.

9am on the dot I called the pediatrician. I was pretty sure we were dealing with a virus, but I am no novice and I KNOW that it is fatal to make assumptions on a Friday. If you do that you end up in urgent care for 6 hours on Saturday. So we went in at 11am.

We entered the peditrician's office. I scanned the scene. I felt like we were in a germ zoo. So many snotty faces, coughing babies, tired parents.  I made eye contact with a few of the other parents. We smiled, but not too friendly...it was the we're in this together, but stay away in case your kid gives my kid something else to be sick with smile.

We were called into the back room.  Where my girls proceeded to act normally and not cough. Cordelia was particularly charming telling the doctor, as he listened to her chest, "I have all kinds of different coughs." She then showed him. She had to only tell him about coughing into the harmonica as, darn the luck, she'd forgotten it at home. He was amused, but still diagnosed bronchitis.

Elise was mellow as she was checked over, no bronchitis, only a virus. The good news, no antibiotics--- the bad news, there is little we can do to make her comfortable.

We paid a freakish amount and then headed to the store for Cordelia's meds. I cannot explain to you how exhausted we all were at this point. Just beyond tired. Somewhere around this time I noticed that I had been  splashed with some spit-up and thought, "raindrop in the storm."The girls were holding up, just drippy, coughy and a little whiny. It was then that I smelled it, Elise had dropped a bomb. No problem for mothers who have it together. Instead...I had a flashback to the day before when I used the last of my wipes while we were at the store (and I will admit a bit of a receipt in my purse was used as well, it was a bad one). I hadn't refilled the wipes in the diaper bag. Ugh! Fine, I thought, just grab the meds and head home. No dice, the pharmacist informed me that there would be a few more minutes to wait. So... I went to grab a few odds and ends (and wipes) while I waited for the  pharmacist. It was then, as I rolled those sick girls around the store that I realized how that woman becomes, that woman.

So, to rehash. Sick kids. Tired mother. Poopy diaper. No wipes.

Oh, and you probably want a moral to this story, unless you're French then this whole story is probably just obnoxiously American. So, a moral, let's see... probably something about not judging the lady in the store as you don't know the whole story...or something.

Anyway, today we are on the mend. The girls got more sleep. I got some sleep too. Noses are still running, coughing is still happening, but I think this illness has reached its zenith.

Being Herself

I had a lot of fun dressing Cordelia as a baby. She was given loads of adorable clothes and I must admit to a few purchases myself. Since before Cordelia could talk she has had an opinion about her clothing. Now that she is capable of dressing herself I pretty much let her do whatever she wants, only stepping in if it is inappropriate for the weather or occasion (and you'll see I am pretty lax about occasion). She has an opinion about all of it, from the way her hair is styled to her socks and shoes.

Today she mostly just wanted to wear blue. A blue dress, blue leggings and hair clips. She also wanted striped socks (to be pulled over her pants) and dress shoes.







I love that she is developing an idea about how she wants to be, but more than that I love for her to explore her creativity. I want her to feel confident  enough to be a little different, to wear what she wants and say what she thinks. I know that soon enough she will care all too much about her peers, but for now she is happy to freely expressing herself and I couldn't be more proud----even when that means taking a tiny girl to the store wearing a super girl costume, hula skirt, ballet shoes and fedora (true story).

But I'm Playing

Several months ago Cordelia gave up nap time. I wasn't quite sure how to proceed. I was incredibly reliant upon those quiet moments. I had an internal struggle about my options. I just didn't know what I should do. Finally I decided that she would have a short period of quiet time. I really agonized about this choice. I am not sure what the concern was, but now I think it is one of the better decisions I have made as a parent.

Each afternoon, I walk her up to her room and let her know it is quiet time and that she can play quietly until I come back. This is something she has come to enjoy. I head downstairs and get some work done while Elise sleeps and I listen to the play sounds that come over the monitor that I still have in Cordelia's room.

She will now ask for a little "alone time" when she wants to play by herself. I love that she is learning a little independence, even if it is a little tough for me to let go at times. I suppose that is what parenthood is all about, incrementally letting go. While Eric and I are trying to find the balance this little lady is growing all on her own.

After breakfast this morning she requested some time alone in her room. We were happy to oblige.



Eric and I both looked in on her and she looked up from the floor and said, "I know, it's a mess, but I am playing."



She was playing, independently, and I couldn't care less about the mess (she was worried as we were all in there sorting and organizing last night). For those of you that don't have children, independent play is an incredibly valuable skill for a child to acquire.

Once she was done with her play time we worked together to clean up the mess. How quickly she is growing into a sweet and smart girl.

Martyrdom Complex

A few years back my sister-in-law, who has a lovably blunt nature, asked me, "Do you think you have some sort of martyrdom complex?" I am not sure what was going on at that moment, but I was certainly just being my normal self and taking on a bit too much.  I immediately said no, but the question has stuck to me like glue. I have thought about it a lot since then.

You see I do tend to be the one who takes on too much. I will pick up the slack. I will spread myself too thin. I tell myself that this comes from a place of love. Sara's question got me wondering if that were true. Do I do it for love or something else? Are my motivations pure?

The answer is...I dunno, maybe. I think it's a little bit of everything. I do genuinely want to help. I also have a bonafide control freak lurking under my skin. I am often happy to pick up the slack with no strings attached, but there are other times when my motivations certainly come from a place of conceit. Ultimately though, I think that I seriously have an issue with asking for help. I hate to ask someone to do something for me when I am perfectly capable of doing it. No matter if I am tickling the rim of exhaustion.

I also have an issue with accepting offers of help. I hate to be a bother. Quite frankly people often have to force me to accept their help. For instance, yesterday I was sick and so tired (up with a sick baby for a few days = 9 hrs sleep in 3 days). I didn't ask for help. Eric knew I wouldn't so he took the initiative and took the day off from work and then he forced me to rest.

I don't really think this issue is mine alone. I think this is a problem that many mothers have. We let our needs fall to the wayside while we take care of others, giving ourselves completely to giving. I acknowledge that I struggle to let go and let someone else give to me. Yet, I am trying. I really am.

I have been forcing myself to accept offers for help. Eric has given me time to take a hot bath, work on a painting, just do something for myself and my sanity.


A moment to myself

Admittedly this has not been a quickly won battle. I will probably always struggle with this issue as I am capable of taking only so much "me" time before a feeling of guilt begins to cloud over me, but I think it is important that I try. I want my girls to know that nobody can or should do it all and that everyone needs help. I also want my girls to know that it isn't selfish to take time for oneself and so I am trying to let go a little bit and to be thankful that I have people who want to help.

Dinner and a Show