first official day of the school year

5 am: wake to toddler who insists on cluster nursing through the night. must night-wean asap.

6 am: wake to first-grader who squeals, "I'm going to first grade today!!!"

6:45 am: feed girls breakfast- wheat chex, organic milk, grapes, chunks of cheddar cheese. hopefully the breakfast of champions.

7 am: watch girls shout "goodbye, daddy!" and cover him with kisses as he leaves for work.

7:04 am: corral girls into tub, scrub them until shiny.

8 am: dress girls, give Madeline, "teeny, tiny, thin braids" on either sides of her temple. assure her for the 100th time that yes, I will be at the bus stop this afternoon to get her; in fact, I will even be there early. PROMISE. double check that lunch, snack, and water bottle are in her backpack.

8:20 am: usher girls outside and snap 30 pictures of them in virtually the same pose, just to make sure the perfect shot is achieved.

8:55 am: put lovely firstborn daughter on bus, but not before hugging her tight, and assuring her that the day will go well. sigh.

8:56 am: walk to playground with lovely second born daughter, and give her some one-on-one time.

9:20 am: off to grocery shop. with just one child, it feels empty. turn the shopping into a lesson... "How many cantaloupes are we buying? What color is the pepper?" notice grandpa-like man smiling at said questions, and pat self on back for sneaking in a little learning.

10 am: arrive at playdate. spend next two hours giggling while watching two curly-haired girls negotiate being two, as they share popcorn and raw broccoli. enjoy company of down-to-earth friend and her new baby boy.

noon: little one's naptime. relish in the cuddling of little one as she drifts off to sleep.

12:30-2:20 pm: prep dinner, unpack groceries, and straight up house. didn't I just clean it last night?

2:30 pm: a late lunch for little one, followed by puzzles and playing with wooden letters. loving her little voice and tiny fingers as she fits together puzzle pieces and shouts proudly, "I did it!!"

3:20 pm: husband appears, home from work. play an educational game online with little one, and off to get big sister off the bus.

4 pm: (well, 4:29, as the bus is 29 minutes late, but who's counting?) big sister arrives, all hugs, smiles, and, "I can't wait to go back tomorrow! I made so many new friends and I love my teacher!" WHEW. play outside w/neighborhood kids; usher own kids inside for dinner.

5 pm: dinner.

5:48 pm: scrub off the floor: an entire plate of sticky watermelon juice, a large cup of water, and whatever other pieces of dinner that were not eaten by my eats-like-a-bird little daughter.

6 pm: upstairs for bedtime routine. pajamas, teeth, and books, in that order. meanwhile, husband's cast of four adults begin to arrive, and they head outside to rehearse a fairly-loud play in the backyard. neighbors must wonder about us.

7 pm: strong arm girls into bed. of course, not before they gleefully shout, "goodnight Daddy! we love you!!" out their bedroom window, supplying chuckles to Daddy and his cast. as usual, girls then stall bedtime, asking to go, "bedtime pee-pee," begging for another sip of water, and urgently revealing "secrets" which they forgot to share during the day. as always, I indulge them, secretly knowing that the reason I put them into bed at 7 is b/c I know they won't be done with this dance until 7:30.

7:40 pm: it it silent upstairs. re-neaten the house (didn't I just do this a few hours ago?). wash lunchboxes and water bottles, repack fresh lunches for tomorrow, and feeling generous, even pack one for hubby. marvel at my creativity to include every food group (and wonder how long I can keep up enthusiasm for the task). wash pots and pans, reload dishwasher, and put everything into place. consult compiled list of meals, and decide on dinner for tomorrow.

9 pm: steal a few minutes online before heading back upstairs to fill out gigantic pile of "homework" that teacher sent home for parents to complete. emergency contact info and family history. fun fun. and so the day comes to a close. I think I'm gonna need a cape. as will every other mother of a school-aged child this year. happy school year to all.

"When you're a girl, your dreams come true..."

This has definitely been the summer of leaps and bounds. At the end of the kindergarten school year, Madeline was reading (tentatively), swimming (while tightly holding onto a pool noodle), and riding her bike (with training wheels). Just a few months later, she is reading (confidently), swimming (back and forth and back and forth, in the eight feet deep water, while singing at the top of her lungs), and riding her bike (sans training wheels, and quite proudly). Tonight she is having a friend sleep over for the first time, and it feels like tomorrow she'll be packing for college. It amazes me to see her grow so quickly, and in so many areas. This afternoon gave me such a chuckle. She is an amazing free spirit. Normally we swim in the four foot water, and she practices swimming but is always aware of whether or not she can touch the bottom. This afternoon, as she watched me cross into the deep end, she blurted out, "I want to come with you!" We brought a noodle along "just in case," but it was quickly forgotten. The cutest part-- as she flitted around in the water, daringly dashing from here to there, she began to sing. Loudly. Unabashedly. "When you're a girl, your dreams come true. Your dreams come true. Your dreams come true. When you're a girl, your dreams come true..." I had to laugh as she swam around, unaware of who was listening, who she was swimming by, or who was smiling as she swam, floated, and sang; blissfully happy and without a care in the world. I love it.

My little Margo has also changed so much. She is quite the chatterbox, the boss, and the cuddler. In her best moments, she is goofy, grinning, and loving. In her darker moments, she is Ms. Terrible-Two. Ms. Tantrum. Ms. My-Way-or-the-Highway. Madeline wasn't quite this routine in her wishes, or dramatic in her reactions, so it has taken some getting used to. I know we have another strong personality in the making (shocking, I know). She is also the little monkey-see, monkey-do. Her older sister is her mentor, and at times it seems like everything Margo does is something she saw Madeline do. It's pretty funny, like today at the orchard when they were each singing "Donuts, donuts, last time we ate donuts" even though I'm pretty sure Margo doesn't remember that day. Regardless, it's adorable, and I enjoy watching her personality continue to develop. This fall will be a new challenge for us, as Madeline has full day school, and I look forward to settling into a new routine and seeing who she'll be next.

The summer has flown by, and I've practically forced it to slow down at this point. We've been filling our days with day trips, yet also trying to set aside time to stop and smell the roses. I feel like it's finally summer; ironically, as it is the first week of August. We've been to the Zoo, the Mansion, the Pool, the Orchard, the Picnic; and soon, the Drive-In, and Backyard Camping Night in our friends' yard. The memories have been made and I can't wait for whatever remains in store. And for now, I'm off to sit on the deck on a cool night, and enjoy the sounds of silence (and chirping crickets). Happy summer!

Tattoos by noon

If you heard of someone who ran away in the morning, got two tattoos by noon, bragged about her underwear-less status shortly thereafter, and finished by taking notice of a scantily clad man in the store... would you feel exhausted? If so, welcome to my Monday. While Margo didn't actually attempt to run away, she did let herself out of the house without permission, in hopes of "peeing in the yard." While her tattoos were of butterflies, and I did help apply them, they are still proudly displayed on her biceps. While she has been going commando ever since the warm weather hit, she decided to announce it to the cashier this afternoon as we checked out at Home Depot. And while the man shopping in the aisle nearby wasn't truly "nakey" (he was wearing cutoff jeans and a white tank top), she did remark about his exposed skin so loudly that he turned around to grin and laugh. Whew. That girl does keep me on my toes.

My big girl, on the other hand, has re-entered a testing phase. She's been trying out words that she knows aren't permitted (fortunately for the time being, her choice words are "stupid" and "Jesus Christ," so I know it could be worse) and suggesting we "die," before taking it back and apologizing. I'm not sure where this phase came from, but I'm hoping it doesn't stick around long. She's just about done with kindergarten, and I can't believe how far she has come- as I watch her write stories, draw complex pictures, and read books, I'm in awe of how many skills she has furthered in such a short period of time. I do cringe at the time when her homework will be beyond my own knowledge, but for now I'll pretend that those days are far away. She changes so fast that I often don't recognize her, but quality time with her (we recently had our first mother-daughter mani-pedi, as well as a trip to see a Broadway play on tour) recharges our bond.

Summer is approaching, and I couldn't be more excited. One of the main perks of having a husband who puts in long hours teaching all year is the summers off. Woo hoo!! For the time being we're planning a number of day trips (stay-vacations, if you will) as well as a trip westward to PA to score some time with some furry creatures (aka Elmo and crew) and to see a land of wonder (aka Dutch Wonderland). The "honey-do" list has grown a lot lately, as we tackle one room at a time. Silly as it may be, my goal is for each room in the house to look as well put-together as a Pottery Barn catalog. This weekend we tackled the playroom-- sorting, purging, organizing, and making it a more pleasant place to be. I've been on an organization kick ever since Spring, and hope this summer will bring even cleaner closets and neater drawers. Oh, such exciting dreams.

More to the point, I'm hoping this summer brings some sweet memories... the kind that you don't know you're making until after they're done. Our annual evening at the drive-in movie is a must, as well as some lazy afternoons sitting alongside the beach, looking out at the sky. The girls love to swim and I'm sure we'll be in the pool plenty, but I'm also hoping for quiet moments cuddling on blankets under a shady tree, hiking through the cool woods, picnicking around town, and hopefully even a family bike ride. Throw in some BBQ gatherings with friends and family, and I'm even more excited for the months ahead. Long, warm days with blue skies are always my favorite kinds of days, and thoughts of such days got me through the dreary months of winter. Ah, summer. I hope to see you there!

Please don't put lipgloss on the cat

Dear Margo,

For your second birthday... you ate cereal for breakfast, then played with your sister. I snuck in some pictures before either of you could protest (how could I resist the matching dresses you had on??) You had playtime with mommy while Madeline was in school. You emptied an entire barrel of cat kibble on the floor, and delighted in fitting as much of it as possible into your mouth before I could stop you. A little while later, I caught you applying lipgloss to our cat, Samantha. You took a nap after we picked your sister up from school (who was so excited, she told her teachers and all of her friends about your special day). Spent the afternoon playing while Madeline and I decorated your Elmo cake. You graciously chatted on the phone with each person who called to wish you a happy birthday, saying "Have a good day. Here's mommy!" about 20 times to each person. We had breakfast for dinner, then birthday cake. Your eyes lit up when you saw your cake with glowing candles coming your way. After we let you "cut" your cake (hacking at Elmo's nose and eyes with a butter knife, if truth be told) you ate a few bites before tiring of the sugar. Madeline graciously shared the spotlight with you, showering you with kisses and wishing you happy birthday all afternoon. We went to Daddy's work to watch a theatre performance, and you "stole" (crashed?) the show by wandering onstage during one of the numbers. You danced to the music, and carried props you found in a box (stuffed animals and a baby) around the theatre, laying them down on chairs for "sleepy" after you nursed them. You snuck in the bathroom and put a cabbage patch doll on the potty to "go poopy." You hugged Daddy's colleague and his students, telling everyone, "I'm two" and holding up your two fingers. You sang and chatted all the way home, where you snuggled in your pajamas and went to sleep.

I love you, my little noodle.

Five and Two... Eyes of Blue

Yes, I know that's not exactly how the song goes... but it does describe our situation here. Unbelievably, I'm about to be the mother of a five year old and a two year old. It hit me today that in just a week, Margo will be two. Still, as I look at her wild, crazy curls and her crinkly blue eyes, she looks like a stranger to me. She has changed so much in these two years that every time I get used to who she is, she's someone else again. There are times of the day when I spend every second with the girls, and after hours of books, projects, and playing, we're united not just by glue and sparkles, or the fort of dolls around us, but by the most awesome bond I could ever imagine. Strangely, though, I slip away to empty the dishwasher or put in a load of laundry, and return to find two different children. Many times a day I stare at Madeline's shiny hair, her great big smile, and can't believe she's mine, and that she's the same child I once cradled in just one arm. She's a mix of humor and furor, laughing and crying, dependent on the moment. For the most part, she and her sister are the best of friends, and she loves to tell Margo, "You're my best friend, little girlie!" Madeline will build the tallest block tower, only to yell out, "Come knock it over, Marg!!!" Yet seconds later, will again build the tallest block tower, only to yell, "Why did you knock that over?!?" Ah, sisters. Quite similarly, one moment Margo is sharing every doll with her sister, and a moment later, crying, "Mine!" and grabbing things for dear life.

In other words, the normal progression of sisterhood. I love to watch it, in fact I get giddy when I see them playing school; Madeline dressing Margo in ridiculous get-ups and tucking a backpack onto her shoulders; Margo slipping into fancy shoes just to be like her sister. Those stolen moments, when I am watching with no one knowing, are the best. It's rare to get a photo of this; Madeline's beacon ears recognize the sound of the camera turning on, and she can disappear faster than you can say, "Snuffaluffagus;" so I've learned to just savor it, take a mental picture, and be sure to share it with my husband later.

Now that Margo is getting older, we're really starting to do "family" things more than ever. Which is, of course, the moment I've been waiting for. Playing with a toddler while an infant snoozed was no fun, but playing with both girls together is delightful. Both love to help me cook, which is great fun (and a messy disaster, but so worth it). Family movies on the couch (in the bed) are even better, because we can finally start sharing with them all the things we enjoyed growing up. We're starting to play games together, although Margo still prefers to collect the game pieces rather than put them in their rightful places on the board. Such is life. I really look forward to outdoor activities with them. We brought them both biking with us this summer, which was the most fun I've had, not counting the fact that Margo despised the pull-along seat and sobbed uncontrollably for just shy of two hours. But Madeline loved riding tandem with Terry, and since biking was our activity pre-kids, we hope to resume that again. Hiking has gone well, and soon Margo will be old enough to trot along rather than ride piggyback; and of course, beach combing was to-die-for. I'd move us to the beach in less than a heartbeat if I could... but that's another story for another day.

All fun aside, having a two-year-old is a dangerous endeavor. For me, another six months past Madeline's second birthday, the sleepy-I-can't-believe-we-did-this fog lifted, and I started to dream of something... someone... little. Up until Madeline was two, I was deadset against having a second. It was hard enough with one, I maintained, why push it. But as the months past, we moved her to own bed, and she became a little more independent. We started to discuss the benefits of her having a sibling, and whether or not we could endure "the beginning" again. Survey said yes, survey said no, and finally, we said, "What the heck," and took the plunge. Nine months later, as my ears closed in on me three nights after Margo's birth, I vowed not to do it again. Dividing myself in two is hard enough, and I'm wise enough to know I won't be able to divide into thirds. I haven't changed my mind, and I don't plan on changing it, but I do recognize the dangers of the present. With a school-aged child and a toddler running around, there's no one left who fits between my shoulder and my elbow. No teeny-tiny body in my arms, no one who fits (well, no one under 22 pounds) in a front carrier, and no one to rock through the dark hours of the night. And I'm good with that (after all, I don't think blogger.com would let me change the title of this blog to "And then there were five") but that doesn't mean I don't still wonder just who else would be out there. Would it be a boy this time? Or another little girl? I'll never know, and although I'd rather not, it still doesn't mean I don't miss those early days of holding the tiniest person on my shoulder and breathing in that sweet smell.

Fortunately, I have two cuddlers on my hands. And they still smell pretty darned good. :)

The more things change...

Another whirlwind of time passing by... birthdays, holidays, school, day to day responsibilities, and all the ups and downs that are par for the course of life. I'd love to say we've fallen into a routine, but it forever feels like every day brings new challenges and surprises that make the routine feel both monotonous and non-existent at the same time. Talk about a paradox. On one hand, there is the never-ending repetition. Wake up, get everyone ready for the day, get Madeline on the bus, play with Margo, get Madeline off the bus, make lunch, do schoolwork, neaten, make dinner, get the girls to bed, neaten, go to sleep. Wake up, do it again. Groundhog Day has never felt so real.

On the other hand... there are always unexpected glitches, both good and bad, that make life feel so unpredictable and hard to keep up with. All it takes is one or two extra errands or obligations and suddenly we are off schedule, falling behind in whatever needed to be done, and forever playing a game of catch up. Five minutes after the laundry is done, the house is spotless, meals are prepared, and life is in perfect order, a tornado comes through and we're back to square one.

And such is life. I hardly doubt this to be unusual or unique in any way. Through comparing notes with others, it's clear that many a mother finds herself in a never-ending cycle of twists and turns otherwise known as daily life. The only ironic thing, truly, is how this differs from what I expected. Three years ago I was working full-time. I had just graduated with my doctorate in psychology, and was staring my upcoming career in the face. At the very same moment, I was staring my energetic 22 month old in the face. Since the first moment I held her in my arms, it was clear that motherhood and career were going to fight for which came first; which was more important. I wanted to believe I could conquer them both, but in my heart of hearts, I knew I didn't want to. My career, which challenged and intrigued me only moments prior, immediately fell by the wayside once motherhood came onto the scene. Two years later, with my degree in my back pocket and some courage in my heart, I made the decision to take a sabbatical from work and raise my family. Oh, what romanticized visions of sugarplums did I have dancing in my head! I had it all figured out. With all of the time I'd have being an SAHM, I could do it all. Nutritious meals three times a day. A perfectly clean home, which I'd neaten every morning- of course, it would stay that way all day long- leaving me to spend the day playing educational, enjoyable games with my daughter until her father came home. And of course, I'd have my evenings free to spend time with said father of my child, and we'd sit on the couch, intimately chatting as we shared our productive days with one another. Who hasn't seen the Fisher Price commercials- the perfectly groomed mother, laughing and playing on the living room floor with her toddler- a bright, neatly decorated home in the background, a healthy snack waiting on the corner. Why, that would be me, of course! And why not?!? How much work could it be, really, to play with your child all day?

All I can say now is HA. Yes, I neaten every morning. Yes, I aim to play educational yet interesting games with my daughters throughout the day. Yes, I plan healthy meals and find the time to prepare them. But do my days have that bright, easy, relaxing flow I envisioned? Absolutely not. Time with my husband in the evenings? Sometimes laughable. Does my house stay clean and organized? Don't even go there.

In the end, I hope I have learned one lesson... and may that lesson be that it's impossible to truly plan for everything, or even envision what it will be like until I've gotten there. I truly want to believe that I can keep everything in control simply because I want to, but again and again, it is proven otherwise. Until I develop my bubble in which I will protect the universe, I am forced to accept that life is unpredictable and my best bet is to roll with it. Cliched, of course, but don't I always end in cliche? ;)