Oftentimes my mom comes up to see us... I mean, a lot. She takes us to lunch at all the cool Providence restaurants and makes my life a whole lot easier. We go to gardening centers and she teaches us about plants and how to grow things. She buys us groceries. She takes my kids to the bathroom. She spoils the kids at toy stores and ice cream shops. She combs over catalogues with me and helps me conquer the next home decorating conundrum. We are partners in crime, to say the least. When she calls me up and says, "would you like me to come down and make dinner with you?" I'm happier than you might ever imagine. (Remember, Myles is "Q2" - a.k.a. absent)
But yesterday she called up to say that she and my dad wanted to come to take us out to their Anniversary dinner. Although I thought maybe they wanted to be alone, they insisted that after 33 years of marriage they would rather have the company of their grandkids at a pleasant restaurant than be by themselves.
We gorged ourselves at this bistro-style restaurant and left feeling rotund and stinking of garlic. I had a glass of red wine (although completely embarassed about drinking it in public) and it tasted like heaven.
Even though I have a lot of guilt about how generous my mom is to me, and I feel spoiled rotten by her, I completely get where she is coming from. The other day Ruby and Eloise's school prepared "Mother's Day Tea" for the moms. We arrived to their classroom and they cheered "Happy Mother's Day" and waved little cut-out pink tea cups decorated with glitter glue. Inside were little tea bags. We all sat at kid sized tables and had tea sandwiches - prepared ENTIRELY by the kids, and we were served (cold) tea in ceramic tea pots. I mean, cups, saucers... the whole thing... but 3 year olds pouring us tea! It was adorable. As they poured they said, "and we stop before we get to the top!" HA! I can only imagine how many overflows they must have had while practicing. Well, it made me want to burst with happiness at how proud they were of their achievements. They constantly amaze me and they are my best companions.
So, every day that goes by I get closer to understanding why my mom just gives every bit of herself to us. She's not capable of doing her job any other way.
Saturday, May 19, 2007
Ru and El's First Paddle
Last weekend we had Myles with us for 2.5 days - so we headed up to Brattleboro to see his dad and Kathleen. That Friday night I opted out of a brief canoe ride, but Myles captured a couple of cute moments. This photo shows Eloise and Ruby in full command of the paddles. Jim is in the very front using his hands to direct the boat - apparently 3 year olds don't really get much momentum going in a canoe. The important thing however, is that they thought they were doing a fantastic job.
Every time I'm back in some part of VT I get really nostalgic and all worked up about what a special community I left behind. The Bratt. Farmer's market was a total treat to attend - we purchased a bunch of lettuces, herbs and some tomato plants for our garden. I stuffed my face with homemade doughnuts and indian food. The kids dug around in a sandbox and we ran into all sorts of familar faces. I also managed to stop into the hippie-est of all natural parenting shops to grab my supply of organic cotton baby diapers! Finally almost 3 years of using disposable diapers I have decided that going the cloth route for 1 child will be manageable. And if it turns out to be a nightmare, I won't be stubborn about keeping it up... we can totally do disposable for when we're on the road or if the big kid poops are just too fucking gross. (But after potty training 2, I'm a veteran to the Big Kid Poop in the undies scenario...)
So Vermonters and former Vermonters that are reading this - we miss you very much. Keep up the good work.
Every time I'm back in some part of VT I get really nostalgic and all worked up about what a special community I left behind. The Bratt. Farmer's market was a total treat to attend - we purchased a bunch of lettuces, herbs and some tomato plants for our garden. I stuffed my face with homemade doughnuts and indian food. The kids dug around in a sandbox and we ran into all sorts of familar faces. I also managed to stop into the hippie-est of all natural parenting shops to grab my supply of organic cotton baby diapers! Finally almost 3 years of using disposable diapers I have decided that going the cloth route for 1 child will be manageable. And if it turns out to be a nightmare, I won't be stubborn about keeping it up... we can totally do disposable for when we're on the road or if the big kid poops are just too fucking gross. (But after potty training 2, I'm a veteran to the Big Kid Poop in the undies scenario...)
So Vermonters and former Vermonters that are reading this - we miss you very much. Keep up the good work.
Our Only NYC Photo
I have a special skill for not having camera batteries when we are visiting places or on a fun trip. We did capture a fine moment here, where my dad couldn't be happier pusing the girls in their sleek-yet-crappy city stroller. Actually, my dad pushed this thing all weekend long. I think it made him feel really proud. Ruby and Eloise would just sit there and chat away, playing ponies and watching the sites. They were remarkable - and one night while we were lying in bed falling asleep Eloise said, "Mom, I love New York city. I wish we lived here." Similarly, Ruby did not want to leave when we got in the car. She thought "New York city is too much fun. Let's not go home."
I couldn't have agreed more.
I couldn't have agreed more.
Tuesday, May 01, 2007
quick note...
Yesterday I went to my mom's house for the afternoon (after a much-needed and successful trip to Ikea) and decided, with a self-depricating preface, to tell her about my desire for a letterpress. She laughed (like I knew she would) and said, "Oh Molls. That's just going to turn out like the situation with your sewing machine."
Amazing how well we know ourselves... and how our families know us... whether we like it or not.
But what if I don't buy a letterpress because my mom thinks "it will sit there and take up space"? And who do I believe? Me, or my mom?
Hasn't that always been my biggest confusion and therefore my greatest downfall?
Amazing how well we know ourselves... and how our families know us... whether we like it or not.
But what if I don't buy a letterpress because my mom thinks "it will sit there and take up space"? And who do I believe? Me, or my mom?
Hasn't that always been my biggest confusion and therefore my greatest downfall?
Saturday, April 28, 2007
Stretch Armstrong
Am I letting my readers down when I just ramble on with various complaints? How about when I complain AND I fail to post a photo? Lame. I know.
My ever-expanding belly is starting to hurt more and more, probably due to my time spent in the garden, squatting and weeding like a crazy woman. (Has anyone read "The Good Earth"? I'll pop a baby out while I"m in the field... no problemo.)We seem to have been plagued with this kind of onion grass that has taken over the yard, and since it's really just a bunch of tiny bulbs run rampant, I have to dig it up and do my best to clean it out. The worms I find while digging are immediately handed over to my fellow gardeners Ruby and Eloise, who then proceed to torture them by flinging them in buckets of water and splatting them onto their jungle gym. Eloise just can't get enough of worms... she says, "ooooh. I just love these little guys. Hi wormy worms. It's Eloise. I'll take care of you..." while she holds them and inspects them close to her face. Despite what I tell them about how valuable worms are to the garden, and how worms don't like to be hot and dry, they can't help but torture them. I guess it's cute.
Anyway, my fantasies of having a mini vegetable garden (with about 5 different veggies) have almost disappeared - the onion grass weeds being one reason for disappointment, and Myles' schedule being the other. If I just had my Manservant around he could dig up the shitty weeds for me - but he's more or less absent. Did I mention that during the month of May he's going to be "Q 2"... Doctor-speak for EveryOtherFuckingNightSpentAtTheHospital? He tells me that you actually get to sleep when you're on this Pediatric Surgery rotation, so when he's post-call he won't have to be sleeping. I know the truth to this though. Q 2 is just plain horrible - sleep or no sleep. I'm so sick and tired of my nights alone... and my mornings alone! I would pay large sums of money to have Myles next to me in bed every morning... and then he would get up and make me a big pot of coffee (yes folks, this pregnant lady drinks lots of caffeine) and he'd make the girls breakfast. Oh, and he'd do the dishes and some laundry before I even emerged from the bedroom.
But wait, back to my belly. Everyone I encounter likes to say, "Oh, you're carrying out front. You're SO having a boy", or "Your face hasn't changed. You're having a boy." Or, "I totally sense boy-vibes". Or "Your skin looks great. You're having a boy." What the fuck people? Don't they know there's no truth in any of that garbage? It's killing me.
Maybe it annoys me because I feel like I'm carrying a boy around... but not because of any of the "Old Wives" crap. It just feels kinda boy-ish. It stretches around and kicks up a storm at all hours. It's not shy. Anyone who wants to feel it move can feel it move. No hiding. But then again, what do I have to compare this pregnancy to other than my crazy twin situation? Of course it's going to be a different sensation all together.
I'm pretty sure I've been having some of those Braxton-Hicks contractions here and there, but doesn't that seem kinda early? I can't tell. I guess I only have 9 more weeks, which in the mind of a pregnant woman feels like an eternity.
So in the meantime I'm obsessing over buying a vintage letterpress. It's really silly but serves as an excellent distraction - and once I purchase one, then I can let it sit and collect dust just like my "Must Have" sewing machine. I say that only because my family constantly pokes fun at my capricious hobbies. The only reason we don't have a pair of egg laying chickens in our yard is because my parents laughed at me over and over again when I started spewing my poultry facts at them. Occasionally though I don't care what anyone says and I just jump into stuff for no reason at all. But the letterpress thing has purpose! It's a long-overdue necessity for a crafty beeyatch like myself.
I'll be sure to post pictures if I manage to get the model that I want. And then you can all call me up with your business card requests.
My ever-expanding belly is starting to hurt more and more, probably due to my time spent in the garden, squatting and weeding like a crazy woman. (Has anyone read "The Good Earth"? I'll pop a baby out while I"m in the field... no problemo.)We seem to have been plagued with this kind of onion grass that has taken over the yard, and since it's really just a bunch of tiny bulbs run rampant, I have to dig it up and do my best to clean it out. The worms I find while digging are immediately handed over to my fellow gardeners Ruby and Eloise, who then proceed to torture them by flinging them in buckets of water and splatting them onto their jungle gym. Eloise just can't get enough of worms... she says, "ooooh. I just love these little guys. Hi wormy worms. It's Eloise. I'll take care of you..." while she holds them and inspects them close to her face. Despite what I tell them about how valuable worms are to the garden, and how worms don't like to be hot and dry, they can't help but torture them. I guess it's cute.
Anyway, my fantasies of having a mini vegetable garden (with about 5 different veggies) have almost disappeared - the onion grass weeds being one reason for disappointment, and Myles' schedule being the other. If I just had my Manservant around he could dig up the shitty weeds for me - but he's more or less absent. Did I mention that during the month of May he's going to be "Q 2"... Doctor-speak for EveryOtherFuckingNightSpentAtTheHospital? He tells me that you actually get to sleep when you're on this Pediatric Surgery rotation, so when he's post-call he won't have to be sleeping. I know the truth to this though. Q 2 is just plain horrible - sleep or no sleep. I'm so sick and tired of my nights alone... and my mornings alone! I would pay large sums of money to have Myles next to me in bed every morning... and then he would get up and make me a big pot of coffee (yes folks, this pregnant lady drinks lots of caffeine) and he'd make the girls breakfast. Oh, and he'd do the dishes and some laundry before I even emerged from the bedroom.
But wait, back to my belly. Everyone I encounter likes to say, "Oh, you're carrying out front. You're SO having a boy", or "Your face hasn't changed. You're having a boy." Or, "I totally sense boy-vibes". Or "Your skin looks great. You're having a boy." What the fuck people? Don't they know there's no truth in any of that garbage? It's killing me.
Maybe it annoys me because I feel like I'm carrying a boy around... but not because of any of the "Old Wives" crap. It just feels kinda boy-ish. It stretches around and kicks up a storm at all hours. It's not shy. Anyone who wants to feel it move can feel it move. No hiding. But then again, what do I have to compare this pregnancy to other than my crazy twin situation? Of course it's going to be a different sensation all together.
I'm pretty sure I've been having some of those Braxton-Hicks contractions here and there, but doesn't that seem kinda early? I can't tell. I guess I only have 9 more weeks, which in the mind of a pregnant woman feels like an eternity.
So in the meantime I'm obsessing over buying a vintage letterpress. It's really silly but serves as an excellent distraction - and once I purchase one, then I can let it sit and collect dust just like my "Must Have" sewing machine. I say that only because my family constantly pokes fun at my capricious hobbies. The only reason we don't have a pair of egg laying chickens in our yard is because my parents laughed at me over and over again when I started spewing my poultry facts at them. Occasionally though I don't care what anyone says and I just jump into stuff for no reason at all. But the letterpress thing has purpose! It's a long-overdue necessity for a crafty beeyatch like myself.
I'll be sure to post pictures if I manage to get the model that I want. And then you can all call me up with your business card requests.
Friday, April 13, 2007
Beauties
I love this shot. They are at the point where they like to get dressed up for a party and get their hair done. Then they fight over who gets the black patent leather party shoes (we have some hand-me-downs, but not two of the same - shocking!)
What will I do if this next baby is a boy?
What will I do if this next baby is a boy?
bed heads
These little critters come into my bed in the morning and it's so darn cute. Most of the time I'm exhausted and the thought of even moving hurts - but they know all the tricks to get me up. Ruby will open up my dresser drawer and pick out a long sleeved teeshirt (to wear into our unbearably cold kitchen), and Eloise will collect their slippers and sweatshirts. They even say that they have to use the potty... which means I literally spring up and out of bed to make sure we don't have a miss. We have finally done away with diapers and pull-ups for night time, meaning that there's extra caution in the AM, plus middle of the night potty visits (where both girls are asleep on the toilet but somehow manage to pee - it's hysterical). This doesn't mean I'm not doing a whole bunch of laundry though... we have our fair share of accidents. But it was their chioce! One night they just said, "we're 3 years old. We don't need pull-ups." So I thought I'd save a whole bunch of money and trash and just deal with pees in the bed if I had to.
Monday, April 02, 2007
We Are 3!
After lots of time spent thinking of how to report on our amazing vacation, I have opted to just post lots of pictures on the flickr site. There is way too much to say... mostly along the lines of "Disney World is awesome", which sounds kind of lame and "ohmygod my kids are totally grown up". Then I could talk for hours on how much I ate while I was there and how being in a maternity bathing suit is the most humiliating experience ever. I will spare everyone with those silly complaints - and instead I'll whine and moan about Myles' busy schedule. I knew this spring would be tough hours for him, but I forgot how bad BAD really is.
So much of my life has turned back in to basic survival skills - those skills that got me through a couple of winters in Burlington with little babies - counting hours, killing time, reminding myself that things will get better if I'm just patient and make it to bedtime. Ruby and Eloise are tremendous and easy and this pregnancy is a breeze - but the baby is a MOVER. Considering that my uterus was stretched out with 12 pounds of baby before, Pickle has plenty of room to torment me at odd hours. My best description would be trapping a rodent in a pillowcase... and well, swallow that. A rodent noodling around in your abdomen! Pickle wakes up with Myles at about 4:45 AM and doesn't quit moving until I start walking around downstairs. I don't sleep anymore and I have 3 more months of this business. Either I have severe sleep depravation or a case of the nasty hormones right now.
Example: my late afternoon sticky-ass burning hot vanilla latte slides off the dashboard when myles accellerates out of a parking space -and it splashes all over my legs and feet. Suede shoes and freshly painted toenails covered in crap, car mat and floor soaking... I manage to make it home without really losing my shit, but then I go to get a pair of fresh jeans out of the dryer. Ugh. They barely zip up - or better yet - they barely fit over my thighs. I am a fat beast. Mortified that I have gained so much weight in the last 2 hours, I resort to the bathroom where I whimper and sulk and want to scream. All I want is the fucking latte.
This being said, I'm embarassed that this blog was supposed to concern Ru and El's monumental third birthday. Perhaps I'll redeem myself in another post!
So much of my life has turned back in to basic survival skills - those skills that got me through a couple of winters in Burlington with little babies - counting hours, killing time, reminding myself that things will get better if I'm just patient and make it to bedtime. Ruby and Eloise are tremendous and easy and this pregnancy is a breeze - but the baby is a MOVER. Considering that my uterus was stretched out with 12 pounds of baby before, Pickle has plenty of room to torment me at odd hours. My best description would be trapping a rodent in a pillowcase... and well, swallow that. A rodent noodling around in your abdomen! Pickle wakes up with Myles at about 4:45 AM and doesn't quit moving until I start walking around downstairs. I don't sleep anymore and I have 3 more months of this business. Either I have severe sleep depravation or a case of the nasty hormones right now.
Example: my late afternoon sticky-ass burning hot vanilla latte slides off the dashboard when myles accellerates out of a parking space -and it splashes all over my legs and feet. Suede shoes and freshly painted toenails covered in crap, car mat and floor soaking... I manage to make it home without really losing my shit, but then I go to get a pair of fresh jeans out of the dryer. Ugh. They barely zip up - or better yet - they barely fit over my thighs. I am a fat beast. Mortified that I have gained so much weight in the last 2 hours, I resort to the bathroom where I whimper and sulk and want to scream. All I want is the fucking latte.
This being said, I'm embarassed that this blog was supposed to concern Ru and El's monumental third birthday. Perhaps I'll redeem myself in another post!
Wednesday, March 07, 2007
Ru and Kaiah
Saturday afternoon we went to our friend Kaiah's third birthday party. The entire time Eloise kept refering to Kaiah as "Hazel" - which is adorable. Hazel and Kaiah have a birthday 2 days apart, and they have some similar features... is there any truth to astrological predictions of physique? I mean, Capricorns are known to have trouble with their feet and knees, and we are supposed to have high foreheads too. That's totally me.
I think my forehead is getting bigger every day actually. Along with my nose.
I think my forehead is getting bigger every day actually. Along with my nose.
Sunday, February 25, 2007
superhero(s)
There are days when I really do feel like Wonderwoman (minus the skimpy outfit, cape and nifty accessories). Today was one of those days when I managed to do all things mommy with what feels like the strength and endurance of "daddy". The daddy was yet again on 24 hrs at the hospital, and the girls and I took a trip out to lunch with family friends in Milton. My folks came along and we had such a delightful spread of food - quiche, greens, soup, bread, cheese, olives, wine, champagne. Ruby and Eloise sat like big girls at this lovely table, silently dipping their bread in soup, eating broccoli quiche and diligently munching around olive pits. They used their napkins, they toasted gently with water glasses and even managed to ask "may I be excused?". Then they skibbled off to play with their farm animals on the floor while I got to eat my fill and talk to grown ups about movies. When this type of stuff happens I'm able to recognize how important my mommy skills have been. I hate thinking of the endless days when I think I'm going to explode if I have to give another fucking "Time Out" or negotiate a sharing brawl or explain the importance of good manners and kindness. But I've learned that if I handle those crazy days well, decent child behavior and a moment for me to enjoy time with other adults will result.
After lunch we walked down the street and fed some carrots to a couple of horses, then we went back to my mom's house to relax and play. The girls ate an early dinner, got some jammies on and fell asleep while I drove home. Here's where I start to feel kinda beat: I pull the car in the driveway, take one sleeping girl out, hobble up the stairs, fumble for house keys in the dark, place girl on the couch, run back out to get the second sleeping girl, take her up to her bed and tuck her in, then head down to get the couch girl and repeat the tucking in process. I organize all the recycling, put out the trash, pick up the toys, put away the dishes and collapse on the couch with the clicker. Pickle starts bonking around in my stomach and I am reminded that I'm pregnant - and lonely. Although I'm excited to have the bed to myself on nights like these, I can't say I dig having the girls come in my room about 2 times (four total) each. I just end up shuttling them back to their beds, but FUCK that's tiring. I feel like I don't really sleep. And the house seems so empty with just the three of us snoozing in it. (So, to the real single moms out there, you are some serious superheros.)
Most days DON'T go smoothly for moms. We are under-rested, rushed, emotional and fairly unrecognized or appreciated for our efforts. Our job is never over. (I feel like I've seen a corny needlepoint that reads, "A mother's work is never done" and I call that phrase up in my mind whenever I do a load of laundry or put away the dishes.)
So how do I manage my life? What keeps me going? Well, I guess it's days like today. They are my long overdue paychecks.
Now back to watching the Oscars...
After lunch we walked down the street and fed some carrots to a couple of horses, then we went back to my mom's house to relax and play. The girls ate an early dinner, got some jammies on and fell asleep while I drove home. Here's where I start to feel kinda beat: I pull the car in the driveway, take one sleeping girl out, hobble up the stairs, fumble for house keys in the dark, place girl on the couch, run back out to get the second sleeping girl, take her up to her bed and tuck her in, then head down to get the couch girl and repeat the tucking in process. I organize all the recycling, put out the trash, pick up the toys, put away the dishes and collapse on the couch with the clicker. Pickle starts bonking around in my stomach and I am reminded that I'm pregnant - and lonely. Although I'm excited to have the bed to myself on nights like these, I can't say I dig having the girls come in my room about 2 times (four total) each. I just end up shuttling them back to their beds, but FUCK that's tiring. I feel like I don't really sleep. And the house seems so empty with just the three of us snoozing in it. (So, to the real single moms out there, you are some serious superheros.)
Most days DON'T go smoothly for moms. We are under-rested, rushed, emotional and fairly unrecognized or appreciated for our efforts. Our job is never over. (I feel like I've seen a corny needlepoint that reads, "A mother's work is never done" and I call that phrase up in my mind whenever I do a load of laundry or put away the dishes.)
So how do I manage my life? What keeps me going? Well, I guess it's days like today. They are my long overdue paychecks.
Now back to watching the Oscars...
Wednesday, February 21, 2007
Pickle
About a month ago my dad asked the girls what their new brother or sister should be named, and Ruby answered, "Pickle". Eloise chimed in, "No, Lily." And my dad followed with "Lily Pickle Webster - what a good name!"
So let me fill you in on Mr./Ms. Pickle - what a busy little creature it is. At this point in my pregnancy I think Pickle should be weighing in at close to 1 pound and a bit over 10 inches long, meaning any movement it makes is very noticeable and distracting. Yesterday was the first day Pickle decided to kick near the cervix (those of you who have felt this know exactly what I'm talking about) and make me wince. It's not that it hurts, but more that it's really disturbing. Like your baby could kick it's way out if it wanted to... and you have to clench your buttcheeks together. I know this falls under the category of Too Much Information, but I feel I owe it to Pickle to remember what he/she was like in utero - because you forget. Nature has that figured out perfectly... you forget all the crummy sensations associated with carrying a child so your body gets excited to go through it again. I remember vague things about the extremes of my pregancy with Ru and El, but their movements were such a jumble and I couldn't tell what was going on. With this one, I know where to prod and feel the little butt sticking up. Myles enjoys pressing my stomach excessively and making Pickle scramble around. Isn't that terrible?
Normally I lose connection with Pickle during the day. Yesterday while the girls were at school I ventured to the mall to try on some hideous springtime maternity wear. Some Latino dudes mumbled, "What's up Hot Mama?" behind me on the escalator. Amazing. HOT MAMA. I nearly died of embarassment - I finally understand that I look pregnant to the general public. (Like the snugness of my underwear didn't alert me to this already.) A similar thing happened when I went to the market and was standing in the checkout line and I realized I had forgotten my wallet in the car. The checkout woman said, "go ahead, take your time", and I RAN back to the car to fetch it. Upon my return she said, "Wow. That was fast for a pregnant lady." (PREGNANT LADY! Oh yeah, I'm with child. Remember?)
Now I want you readers to envision me doing the high-speed pregnant shuffle across the icy parking lot in completely impractical shoes.
So let me fill you in on Mr./Ms. Pickle - what a busy little creature it is. At this point in my pregnancy I think Pickle should be weighing in at close to 1 pound and a bit over 10 inches long, meaning any movement it makes is very noticeable and distracting. Yesterday was the first day Pickle decided to kick near the cervix (those of you who have felt this know exactly what I'm talking about) and make me wince. It's not that it hurts, but more that it's really disturbing. Like your baby could kick it's way out if it wanted to... and you have to clench your buttcheeks together. I know this falls under the category of Too Much Information, but I feel I owe it to Pickle to remember what he/she was like in utero - because you forget. Nature has that figured out perfectly... you forget all the crummy sensations associated with carrying a child so your body gets excited to go through it again. I remember vague things about the extremes of my pregancy with Ru and El, but their movements were such a jumble and I couldn't tell what was going on. With this one, I know where to prod and feel the little butt sticking up. Myles enjoys pressing my stomach excessively and making Pickle scramble around. Isn't that terrible?
Normally I lose connection with Pickle during the day. Yesterday while the girls were at school I ventured to the mall to try on some hideous springtime maternity wear. Some Latino dudes mumbled, "What's up Hot Mama?" behind me on the escalator. Amazing. HOT MAMA. I nearly died of embarassment - I finally understand that I look pregnant to the general public. (Like the snugness of my underwear didn't alert me to this already.) A similar thing happened when I went to the market and was standing in the checkout line and I realized I had forgotten my wallet in the car. The checkout woman said, "go ahead, take your time", and I RAN back to the car to fetch it. Upon my return she said, "Wow. That was fast for a pregnant lady." (PREGNANT LADY! Oh yeah, I'm with child. Remember?)
Now I want you readers to envision me doing the high-speed pregnant shuffle across the icy parking lot in completely impractical shoes.
Sunday, February 18, 2007
Audubon Walk
Minus our trip to Burlington a couple weekends ago, we have been really house-bound and stir-crazy. I've started to feel like a bad mom for keeping us inside so much, but I haven't had the energy or enthusiasm for much of anything. The weather is too cold to have fun outside when there's NO SNOW. NO SNOW! This is just odd for me, especially after seeing the great pictures from my VT pals, smothered in white with their snowsuits and burly boots. So when we had Myles home for the day I dragged him out of the house to the Audubon Society in Bristol, RI, hoping to find something beautiful and fun for the family, or at least to find a change of scenery.
In a very brief period of time I learned that I'm a lame-o for not exploring more. This state is tiny, and mostly surrounded by gorgeous water. After wandering around the Audubon Ed Center and looking at all the fish and creepy taxedermy, we headed out on a trail that took us over the wetlands and out to the ocean. It was so beautiful that I had to keep lifting my sunglasses up to check and see if it was real - everything was crisp and vibrant and energizing! When we neared the beach, without even seeing it Eloise said, "I smell the water." Genius! There it was just around the bend, gleaming and twinkling... but when was the last time we were anywhere near the ocean, and how the hell did Elo remember what it smells like?
As we walked (El and Ru running and stomping) over this beautiful boardwalk I knew I was having one of those special family moments that I would keep in my head forever. The last time I can remember feeling like that was about 2 years ago when we took the girls out in the stroller onto frozen Lake Champlain... you can't get those images out of your head when the experience has been so good! (Are these the things that flash back to you when you're dying?)
Ruby and Eloise were incredible, trekking rather far (I thought) without complaint of tiredness, and I had visions of us enjoying many new adventures all over the world. We are so much more portable than we used to be. Oh, yeah... there's another kid coming... but really, ONE BABY? Please. Unless this kid comes out wired like a maniac, I think we can handle it without a problem. I love looking back at the adjustments I had to make in my thought processes over the last three years - all the sacrifice that I had to come to terms with, all the stressors I had to meet in the face and eventually decide to ignore, the feelings of self-loathing and self-doubt that I have wrestled to the ground. I know more than ever that I'm good mom, and adding a third kid seems like it will put my skills to the test in the best ways.
Now if I could only get us out of the house faster...
In a very brief period of time I learned that I'm a lame-o for not exploring more. This state is tiny, and mostly surrounded by gorgeous water. After wandering around the Audubon Ed Center and looking at all the fish and creepy taxedermy, we headed out on a trail that took us over the wetlands and out to the ocean. It was so beautiful that I had to keep lifting my sunglasses up to check and see if it was real - everything was crisp and vibrant and energizing! When we neared the beach, without even seeing it Eloise said, "I smell the water." Genius! There it was just around the bend, gleaming and twinkling... but when was the last time we were anywhere near the ocean, and how the hell did Elo remember what it smells like?
As we walked (El and Ru running and stomping) over this beautiful boardwalk I knew I was having one of those special family moments that I would keep in my head forever. The last time I can remember feeling like that was about 2 years ago when we took the girls out in the stroller onto frozen Lake Champlain... you can't get those images out of your head when the experience has been so good! (Are these the things that flash back to you when you're dying?)
Ruby and Eloise were incredible, trekking rather far (I thought) without complaint of tiredness, and I had visions of us enjoying many new adventures all over the world. We are so much more portable than we used to be. Oh, yeah... there's another kid coming... but really, ONE BABY? Please. Unless this kid comes out wired like a maniac, I think we can handle it without a problem. I love looking back at the adjustments I had to make in my thought processes over the last three years - all the sacrifice that I had to come to terms with, all the stressors I had to meet in the face and eventually decide to ignore, the feelings of self-loathing and self-doubt that I have wrestled to the ground. I know more than ever that I'm good mom, and adding a third kid seems like it will put my skills to the test in the best ways.
Now if I could only get us out of the house faster...
Resting
The colors on this walk have been stuck in my head for the last 48 hours. (Does anyone know what I mean by having colors stuck in your head?)
Flower Power!
This Friday evening a bunch of the ladies from my sister's bridal party took a trip to the dress shop, where Eloise and Ruby got to try on some too-big Flower Girl samples. They could not have been happier - which actually came as a surprise to me. Although Elo usually demonstrates the most enthusiasm for frilly girlie things, Ruby seemed equally pleased to look like a little princess. Of course my entire family was exploding with oohs and ahs as the girls twirled around and even tried to put on the strappy high heels lying on the dressing room floor. When she wasn't looking, I caught Eloise posing in the mirror, floating her arms up and down like a butterfly, spreading her tiny fingers out delicately. I love spying on them now when they are doing self-conscious kinds of things.
The evening culminated in a yummy dinner in Boston's North End - where Ruby decided to announce in a loud voice "my bum hurts" over and over. (She had just taken a superior poop in the ladies bathroom...)
The evening culminated in a yummy dinner in Boston's North End - where Ruby decided to announce in a loud voice "my bum hurts" over and over. (She had just taken a superior poop in the ladies bathroom...)
Elo in Charge
Eloise wanted Ruby to follow her direction and pose for photos rather than spend time looking in the mirror.
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