Can you say "triste?!"

Here is how you know that your daughter has watched a few too many episodes of Dora:


I was pushing Little Sister on the swing, after we walked through the yard and navigated through a portion of the yard that the dogs especially like to use for their, er, potty.

Little Sis says, "Watch out for dog poop!"

No big deal. I say that all the time.  (Too much really.  I should probably get out the pooper scooper more often instead of advising my kids to tread carefully. But I digress...)

But then she said, "If you see dog poop, yell, 'Dog Poop!'  Do you see some? You do?  Where is it?  Is it in the tree? When you see it, say 'Dog poop!' Okay?"

It was less of a conversation and more of a recitation.  An incredibly silly and kind of gross recitation, at that. But creative, right?  And cute.

But... yeah, we should probably say, "Adios" to that show for a little bit.

Heard at our house...

Little Sister:  Dad, can we jump on the couch?
Daddy: No.
Little Sister:  (turning to Big Sister) Let's jump on the couch!!
Daddy:  Noo!
Little Sister:  I wasn't talking to you.



Mommy: (wiping Little Sister's nose) Is your nose still icky? The medicine I gave you should help it to stop running.
Little Sister:  Yeah, we just want to help it to be walking.



(Mommy is closing the windows and curtains in the girls' bedroom before tucking them in.)
Big Sis:  Mom, why are you closing the windows? If I get hot, I might have a bad dream.
Mommy:  I know it's hot, but I can't leave the windows open in your room at night.
Big Sis:  Why? We don't want stuff to get in?
Mommy: Yeah, sort of.
Big Sis:  Like bugs? And bees?
Mommy: Yes, we don't want that-
Big Sis:  And ninjas.



Little Sis:  Mom, get your hug & your kiss & your cheers!
(Little Sis gives Mommy the most precious kiss & hug, and then sticks out both of her hands.  One is saying "I love you" in sign language.  The other is... trying. )
Mommy: Cheers. (she presses her "I love you" fingertips against Little Sister's tiny ones).
Little Sister:  You can just kiss this hand.  It doesn't work.  It's not cheers.  It's... cheerios.

This dog...

... only looks sweet and innocent.

Okay, actually she is really sweet. She's the clumsiest, snuggliest, biggest lapdog I've ever met. (Well, there was this Great Dane I met when volunteering at a shelter once, but besides him, it's Sophie, hands down.)

But she is not innocent.

She has started chewing again. Chewing everything.

A few days ago the girls and I came home from the playground, and I stumbled upon a macabre scene. Tinkerbell's head, arms, torso and some shreds of her clothing were scattered under the dining room table (aka Sophie's Den of Destruction). The rest of her dress (actually one that was borrowed from Cinderella) was in pieces in the living room. Fortunately, I was able to hurry the girls upstairs and secretly dispose of the evidence. Does this make me an accessory?

Besides the gruesome attack on an innocent fairy, Sophie has recently destroyed a bean bag (that wasn't messy at all), a stuffed cow, two Dora sippy cups, a flannel fitted sheet, a few plastic snack bowls, a swing for zhu zhu pets, three pencils, some semi-important papers, countless crayons, and more take-and-toss cups/lids than I care to recall. She has also stolen cloth napkins from the table, towels from the kitchen and laundry basket, and socks and dirty underwear (!) from the laundry room.

I'm filled with dread every time I come home (or even just downstairs) and am greeted by her guilty face and apologetic tail wag. It's like she's saying "I did it. I can't lie to you and I know you'll be mad. I JUST CAN'T HELP IT."

I think it's boredom. We try to get her exercise, and she and Al love to race around the yard. But the mornings have been cold and dark and our afternoons/evenings so inconsistent that we keep putting off that "walking routine" we dream about. It might also be pent-up frustration; she spends a lot of time on a long tether (because she still jumps the fence), watching squirrels and neighborhood cats that are just out of reach. Even inside, she watches...

So for now, we just have to try to remember to keep things out of reach. And give her new things to chew.

Anyone have any suggestions?

Or any empty peanut butter jars or pizza boxes my dog can tear up?

The clean-up is a pain, but it is much better than the alternative.

Hard on her

Poor Big Sister.

For almost three years, she was the center of attention. Then she had to share the spotlight with a tiny new baby, who became a cute, pudgy sister and then an entertaining, beautiful toddler...

And then a kid. Another girl. Another sister.

A rival.

Each new stage has been a hard adjustment. But when Little Sister was obviously younger, Big Sis seemed to "get it." She still didn't like sharing her mother (or her Nana), but she tried to help and be relatively gentle and patient with "the baby." The sibling dynamic was challenging, sure. But it was relatively peaceful.

Those days are gone.

Let me back-up a bit and be sure that anyone reading knows this about me: I am an only child. I had some cousins close to my age that were the closest thing I had to siblings. I have only a faint understanding of how annoying a younger sibling can be. I don't know what is a "normal" amount of bickering or wrestling or eye-rolling or shouting or... you get the point.

I do see Little Sister climbing all over her big sister, interrupting her, trying to mother her or bother her or smother her or who knows what. I know it must be hard on her.

And, I am realizing more and more the things Big Sister has to give up or put on hold because of her sister. They are things as simple as sharing a stick of gum or waiting her turn to talk. And they are things as complicated as laying in bed trying to fall asleep and ignore screaming or bouncing or babbling in the bunk below her, or trying to comprehend why Little Sister gets to stay home with Mommy while she has to go to school every day. They are things I never really had to deal with as a kid, and things I may not always notice like I should. They add up, I am sure. It's hard on her.

I'm not trying to sound dramatic. MOST people have siblings- it is not an uncommon tragedy, but rather a fairly boring reality of life. But when you're watching the Wrestlemania on my couch, and sending two surprisingly scrappy little girls to separate rooms over and over, it seems... bigger.

As I struggle with how to fix it (the question I always ask and ultimately realize that I will never answer, because that's pretty much just how parenting goes...) I'm at a bit of a loss. One thing I quickly figured out: Yelling at my kids for yelling at each other is ineffective, and a bit ridiculous. Like Chris Farley in Billy Madison.

I'm just trying to spend a lot of time with both of the girls, separately and together. I'm trying to gently remind them over and over and over again to use their words and to be polite and respectful. I'm praising the sweet things they do for and with each other. And, yes, I am punishing the bad stuff. TV and other rewards have been restricted. There have been too many time-outs to count. Last night I took some advice from a friend with five kiddos and made them sit together in time out, holding hands, after their frustrations with each other ended with punching and kicking.

Some days, I want to scream. I want to find some way to get Big Sister to understand that you can't win an argument with a precocious two-and-a-half-year-old, that "she-really-is-only-doing-what-you-do-because-she-thinks-you're-the-most-amazing-person-in-the-world," and that there is a step in the conflict resolution process between the first "STOP!" and pummeling the crud out of each other. I want her to understand that SHE IS FIVE and her sister is NOT.

But then I remind myself that, despite her 3rd grade+ reading level, her ridiculous vocabulary, and her eye-rolling and other preteen behavior, SHE IS FIVE.

And I try not to be to hard on her.

Snow Dough

Today, Big Sis and I made a batch of snow dough (aka sparkly play dough).

It's so simple! You just make a typical batch of homemade play-dough. Here's the recipe I usually use.

• 2 c. flour
• 2 c. water
• 1 c. salt
• 2 Tbsp. oil
  
• 2 tsp. cream of tartar

It makes a good sized batch that I can divide for home and Mom's Morning Out.

For snow dough, I add a tablespoon or two of white tempera paint. Except today. Today I grabbed acrylic paint because I was gathering ingredients in a hurry. Don't do that. (Use acrylic, I mean. I don't care how quickly you grab whatever you need. That's your business.)

Combine all of the ingredients in a bowl, then turn into a skillet and cook over medium heat. I usually use a spatula to keep scraping the sides and bottom, making sure that all of the wet, sticky looking mixture gets a chance to cook and dry out a bit. When it is the right play-dough consistency (and there is no more slimy texture) remove it from heat. If you have typical mommy-nothing-can-scald-me hands, go ahead and knead it together a bit. But since it is pretty doggone hot, you might want to let it cool for a bit.

When it is cooler, put it on the counter or wax paper for easier clean up (or, if you're like me, because you don't feel like scrubbing your counter again or dealing with glitter for the next 3 months). Flatten out about 1/4 of the batch, sprinkle with glitter and knead it in. Repeat for the rest of the play-dough.

I prefer white, iridescent glitter. The kind I used was in one of those small tubes from Michael's called "crystal." I used a LOT of it. Some people like to use silver glitter instead. To each his own.

Store the dough in a plastic bag or storage container so it doesn't dry out.

Finally, grab some snowman and snowflake shaped cookie cutters (or just roll some snowballs) and enjoy.

Or, if your little sister won't share, get a jump on Valentine's Day art projects...


Enjoy!

Song for Sunday: Cute Sing-along

The girls are at the kitchen table, immersed in a Strawberry Shortcake coloring book. I'm at the counter, making PB&J for lunch. Big Sister is humming the Strawberry Shortcake theme song.

Me: (singing) She's cool, she's... er...

Big Sister: (helpin' a momma out) ... fun. She'll lead the way.

Both: (together, loudly) Straw-ba-ba-ba-ba-berry --

Little Sister: (out of nowhere, right on time, and on pitch) STRAWBERRY CORTCAKE!

Our week in review

Here's what happened this week at our house...

The girls broke out the Fuzzoodles. They are really cute, inspire creativity, and are totally reusable. I highly recommend them. Plus, just look how nicely they are playing together...

All of our snow melted, rendering my cute porch decoration pretty irrelevant.

It also made our yard (and everywhere else) an icky, muddy, dead-looking mess.

Again, the snowman mailbox is just kind of mocking me now from it's dead flower bed.

Oooh- but as you can see, we also got fiber-optic internet! And these photos are uploading SO fast now!


Big Sister got her first haircut. Not this year. Ever. Yes, I know, she is five-and-a-half. But she didn't have hair until she was three.


Big Sis also became obsessed with the Wii. And since we have exactly 3 games, she is getting quite good at racing cows.

She also further developed her skill of talking just to talk. In other words, our little actress will say things like, "Did you say cinnamon toast? I mean, do you really mean it? That means you're putting it in the toaster, and then you'll put butter on it and sprinkle it. Are you honestly making cinnamon toast? Oh, I just can't wait for cinnamon toast. I wonder how you ever guessed that I simply love cinnamon toast... it's just amazing. It's kind of magical. Like a miracle."

NO! It's bread and butter and sugar. Not a flying unicorn. And for-the-love-of-all-that-is-holy could you please just take a sip of milk?!?! No wonder the television has been on ALL DAY, every day, since Christmas*. At least there's a plot (although even that is in question when watching Imagination Movers...)

On a related note, Big Sister finally started back to school after a month off. She has been exhausted but made the adjustment better than I anticipated.

The verdict is still out for me, although I welcome the return to any routine at this point.

Little Sis also went to school. And decided she is too old to nap there. Ugh.


When not at school, Little Sister stayed in her pajamas way too much.

She also went through extra pairs of pajamas, because she had a couple of nighttime accidents. But really, sleeping without a diaper is going pretty well.

Little Sis did get dressed to go to the bank and grocery store with me one day this week. We came home to find this:


WHAT is that, you ask?

It's a picture of what was left of the bag of candy that was in the bottom of our pantry. (By the way, the bag was some (leftover Halloween) candy our neighbors tied up in a Christmas ribbon and I'm pretty sure gave us out of obligation when we delivered our Christmas gift to them this year. I felt bad that they felt the need to reciprocate at all. The girls thought it was one of the best gifts ever...)

Anyway, Sophie got into the pantry. And then she ate 7 Tootsie Roll pops, a Kit Kat, and a Reece's Peanut Butter Cup. But, to her credit, she left the wrappers.

And, honestly, after I cleaned up the mess, I was a little thankful. No more battles with Little Sis, AKA The Queen of Candy Cravings, over when she can have another piece, why "just smelling it" isn't really accurate, or how "saving it" on her place mat until after dinner never really works.

As for the grown-ups in our house, there's not much new. Hubby and I started the Bourne movies. I know, we're only 9 years behind the rest of the world. But better late than never.

So, there you go. Nothing special, just an update on life in our house. How was your week?




* By the way, starting this week, we're putting limits and setting timers for the television and Wii. Christmas break is over. Time to reclaim our brains. ;)

Let me talk!

Even though a bad case of strep made Little Sister grumpy and pitiful last week, I still got some very sweet cuddle time. She wanted me to hold her all. the. time.

I'll be the first to admit, I'm not so good at the whole sitting-still thing. I'm too restless. It's like there is a soundbite looping in my brain of all of the things I could/should be doing instead. Sometimes, I can remind that obnoxious, constant voice that I should be spending time with my girls (even if "spending time" to them means that I sit in the room while they play dolls by themselves and they fuss at me for interrupting when I try to talk to them.) Sometimes I try to come up with more entertaining things we can do together. And sometimes I just make a couple of runs to check the laundry inbetween puzzles or books.

But even the nervous, chore-obsessed voice can't argue with a sick baby. So I sat and cuddled and talked and listened more than usual. I rubbed her little legs and feet and smiled when she said, "That ticklishes me." I held her one afternoon for her entire naptime. I watched countless episodes of Blue's Clues and Dora and Pingu with her planted firmly on my lap.

It was very sweet. And somewhere along the way, Little Sis seemed to find her voice.

Don't get me wrong, Little Sis has never had a hard time talking. She has always had the best intonations, the most oddly appropriate responses, and the funniest facial expressions. But a lot of that comes from her keen observation, and frequently she simply repeats things to be like her big sister or older friends.

For example: A few weeks ago, she started trying to tell secrets in my ear, after Big Sis and a friend tried to teasingly convince her of some Mermaid fairytale with a "secret." Every secret Little Sis told was the same: "There was a mermaid, and she had purple hair." Okay, so the hair color might change, but the premise never did. It was just trying to say the right thing.

The same thing happened over & over at dinner or in the car, when she wanted to contribute to the conversation (which these days, is always about 92% Big Sis, 8% everyone else in our family.) Sometimes Little Sis will get super-frustrated and scream, "NO! LET ME TALK" only to mumble almost the same thing, or her own possibly-not-even-true version of whatever Big Sis or someone else was saying. And bless her heart, that was IF she got a word or two in at all.

Well, something seems to have changed this week. Maybe she grasped a little more about the art of conversation. Maybe I just listened more. Maybe Big Sis is getting more patient and appreciating what she has to contribute. Or maybe Little Sister just has more confidence in what she is going to say and that her own input matters.

All I know is, she is starting to talk more about things SHE saw, or heard or experienced. Like today, in a stolen moment when Big Sis was upstairs and it was just the two of us, she just blurted out, "Today at school, we played with NEW blocks that Miss Meredith made! They were pink and green and gray!" Usually, all she says about school is "yes" when I ask if she had fun, and tell me someone pushed her down. This was different- a glimpse into what she is thinking. I love that she can explain her day, especially a part of it I missed, to me in her own words.

She also has taken it upon herself lately to be the house bloodhound. As if we need another dog. She points out any stinky smell. And sometimes she'll even follow up her "it stinks" with "It wasn't me!" The other day at the mall playground, she told me it smelled funny. A few minutes later, after trying to pry her off of my legs and get her to go play, she told me "but something is stinky out there!" I had to go sniff around and tell her whatever it was (most certainly a dirty diaper on some fellow climber) was indeed gone.

She is telling me more about what she sees and understands in movies or tv shows that we watch. One day she sat on my bed and stroked Keaton, then looked up at me and said, "Mr. Lopart says 'I'm really more of a cat person.'" She'll explain why she doesn't like certain movies ("there's a bad guy in that one").

She takes her leftover dry cereal and doles out each piece, one at a time, into the dogs' bowls, talking to them the whole time. "Sit, Al. Good boy. No, Sophie, eat your other one first and then I'll give you one. Nice job."

She is even beginning to give her tiny princess dolls a little more of a plotline/script than "hello" or "Mommy!" (That one was pretty confusing for me, for a while.)

Of course, there are still lots of other things she is still figuring out. Like when she asked, "Do you know that song the bad guys sing in Pocahontas? It says, "Sandwiches, Sandwiches."

I'm still giggling. I can't help it. I love that little girl and her big brain.

She ticklishes me.

Snowed (and "sicked") in

On Sunday night, we got snow, which in itself is sort of unusual in the Southeast.

But we got A LOT of snow. Seven inches overnight. Some places in the mountains had more than a foot of the glorious white stuff. Hubby and I were so excited!

And we still are. Mostly. He is a lot more excited than I am, because when he has a chance to hop on a sled, he pretty much turns into a ten-year-old.

I used to think I was like Lorelai Gilmore, welcoming snow like an old friend with whom she shared some special secret. I love the smell of it in the air and watching it fall. I love the fun of anticipating its arrival and of romping around in it like clumsy children. And I love the cozy feeling of stomping it off of my shoes, coming inside and warming my hands, feet and cheeks by the fire with a mug of hot chocolate.

I bundled up my girls when they were tiny out and took them each out into the cold for the first few flakes of their lives. When there is a chance it might snow here, we take our "snow dance" very seriously. I get jealous when anyone I know gets snow and our yard remains dead and bare.


But this time, something changed. Maybe it was because Big Sister is in school. Or was, since she has YET to go back from Christmas break. She was supposed to start this past Monday, and yet it will be this coming Tuesday before she heads back to the classroom. She was off a whole week. I had grand plans for this week- a gap between when her school and my MMO classes began. It had the potential to be a week of uber-productivity.

Until it snowed.


The whole city basically shut down for three days. Schools, offices, and even roads closed. Hubby got some extra time at home (and with his sled), which was nice. And I adjusted my idea of getting things accomplished by myself to one of being cozily snowed in with my sweet family.


And then Little Sister got sick. She was crabby before the snow, but, of course, she didn't start running a fever until the weekend. And then she had a fever off and on for days. She has been pitiful and snuggly and exhausted. No playing in the snow for her. No doing much of anything for me, except lots of holding and worrying and trying to convince Little Sis that Daddy could, in fact, get her some juice or cover her with a blanket. Nope, only Mommy. The ladies at Rants from Mommyland sum up the whole experience hysterically in this post.

I couldn't get Little Sis to the doctor until Wednesday, because we were confined to our neighborhood. My poor baby has strep (we didn't find out until today when the slow-growth culture came back) and is finally on the mend.


The sun is out today. The snow is slowly melting. And I still haven't built my snowman. Maybe this afternoon...

I also didn't clean out the girls' closet, or finish organizing the Christmas stuff, or finish taking down the @$%^! wallpaper in our bathroom.

But I did have lots of snuggles and stories with my girls. I got to savor the taste of Snow Cream and their excitement at making it. Little Sis and I got to watch my other TWO children race down a hill next to a herd of grazing cows. I was even able to get a few things accomplished while both girls(!) took naps.

And every time I look out my windows and see the sun glinting off of the (mostly still undisturbed) white front yard, it catches me by surprise and makes me smile.

So, yeah, I guess I still love snow.

I just wish it had better timing.


PS It could have been worse. I could be the bird who lives there!

I let my guard down...

Okay mommas, have you ever had things going so well with your kiddos that you just took it for granted? Have you ever thought to yourself, "well, we seem to have (insert any random parenting struggle here) under control, so I can cross that off the list..."

only to have it come back to bite you in the slightly-bigger-because-of-way-too-many-christmas-cookies-in-my-house bottom?

Or is it just me?

Since coming home from all of our Christmas gallivanting around, my girls have been ANGELS at bedtime. They have been nice to each other in the bath, had a relatively small splash radius, fully cooperated while getting lotioned-up and donning pajamas, and even let me floss their teeth with little protest. We've read sweet stories together, and then they have had a few moments to read (or in Little Sister's case, make up) books in bed. Then, I'd deliver kisses and tuck them in tight, they sweetly said "goodnight" and that was that.

The other night, Little Sister even said something like, "I love you Mommy. I wish I had you when you were a tiny little baby." I'm pretty sure she meant that she wanted me to be snuggle-sized, to be able to love me and squeeze me and call me George.

So, yeah, I thought I could check bedtime off of the battle list.

I thought wrong.

Last night, all hello-I'm-your-mother-please listen-to-me-before-I-run-screaming-from-your-room-in-horror broke loose.

It all started when I gave in to a tiny little request: to go ahead and give "bedtime smileys" before they were completely merited.

See, every night, we review our behavior charts. I draw faces for things like respect, helping, getting ready in the morning, etc. All smileys in a day earns a star, and a pick from the goody basket. At the end of the week, they also get a small allowance based on the number of smiley faces.

There is one smiley that always waits until the morning: bedtime cooperation. It entails all of those lovely things I said my children were doing so well just a day ago. sigh. It also entails staying in bed all night long except for emergencies (which, by the way, we are still working to define, ahem.) At night, I've been drawing a circle & two eyes, waiting to draw the mouth in the morning when I've had a chance to see all aspects of "bedtime cooperation."

Last night, Big Sister talked me into drawing the smiley before bed. I made a big deal about how I was trusting that the good behavior they've shown me all week was going to continue, and that this was a test to see if we could do this beyond one time, and all that jazz. I'm pretty sure I sounded like Charlie Brown's teacher to them: "wah-wah-wah-wah, wah- wah..." which they translated: pick from the goodie basket and now you're home free to act like crazies for the rest of the night.

Ugh.

The only positive thing I have to say is that when I left them (which may or may not have involved a storming out of sorts, not my proudest moment), they didn't fuss too long before falling asleep. Even if Little Sis had no pillow and was later found sleeping on wadded up blankies.



This morning, they woke up sweet and rested and with some nice snuggles. At breakfast, I apologized for losing my patience. Big Sister replied, "oh no, Mommy. We're the ones who need to apologize."

What a sweetie. Maybe we're figuring this stuff out after all.

Oh, who am I kidding? I'm not going to assume anything is a done deal in mommydom.

Now, excuse me while I referee between a crawling, meowing Big Sis and the Little Sister Elmyra who is currently laying on top of her.

A mommy's work is never done. ;)

The Not-So-Enchanted Garden of Lights

On Tuesday night, we made our annual trip to Rock City for the Enchanted Garden of Lights.

I was not enchanted.

Our kids were worn out. They were worn out when we started. But, we had to go. At the risk of sounding like Tevye, it's tradition. We go every year.

Which is why we should not have gotten lost and taken an extra hour to get there. But I was okay with that. I even maintained my composure on the very foggy, winding road up Lookout Mountain. Except for the one time my husband thought swerving to scare me would be funny. I'm still not laughing.

There was a light mist in the air- enough to keep a lot of the crowds away. We had two free passes, which meant that we only had to pay for a ticket for Big Sister. So, despite the long trip, late arrival and tired kids, things were going pretty well.

Until Little Sister started asking us to carry her. And until Big Sister's excited anticipation of familiar parts of the path turned into boredom and frustration.

But the real turn of events happened after we took our family photo in Santa's sleigh. Big Sis told us she had to go to the bathroom "real bad," and we hurried to the closest one. She didn't make it. I had to call the Hubs from inside the bathroom, have him send Little Sis in so that he could run to the car, and then wait. FOR. EVER.

It wasn't pretty. There was a lot of fussing. From all three of us. After the hand-dryer made Big Sister's Tinkerbell shoes wearable again, we tried to get back to enjoying the lights. And the creeptastic Fairyland Cavern.

And somewhere in the Cavern, Little Sister peed her pants too.

I wish I were making this up.

And yes, before you ask, I DID ask her if she needed to go. After all, we had just spent enough time in the bathroom to start receiving catalogs there. But no, she apparently saw Big Sister's accident as precedent. Or a challenge.

Either that, or she has been watching Billy Madison while we weren't looking.

Fortunately, we were at the end of the trail, soon to be home and in non-pee clothes. We just had to make it through the dumb gift shop... Thank goodness for the unopened Happy Meal toys in the car! They at least kept some of the fussing at bay.



I know this post is a little, well, negative. It was not my favorite moment of the holiday season.

But it wasn't a complete disaster, either.

Little Sister noticed every light and said, "WOW!" more times than I could count. Big Sister rushed to sit in front of the Nativity show and then sat there mesmerized. We sang songs and nursery rhymes in Fairyland Caverns. We laughed.

And we got pictures of some of those parts. The GOOD parts.









Here's to focusing on the good parts.


P.S. I know the quality of the photos leaves a lot to be desired, but the mist was crazy! And I deliberately left the red-eye in that one picture because it was creepier AFTER I tried to fix it.

Getting to the point