The Borjons

You're beautiful

2011-04-15T09:29:00.006-08:00

Yesterday at a play date I told a little girl how pretty her dress was. Her little brother immediately piped in, "What about my clothes?"

What about his clothes? I didn't notice them - at all. I complimented the girl on something completely superficial and looked past the boy's clothes to his actions.

I have officially lost any claims I have to being a feminist. This may be the crux of raising girls without beauty confidence issues. We should never tell girls they are pretty or beautiful. Yet I do this with my own kids and other girls EVERY SINGLE DAY.

"Your haircut is so cute!"
"That dress is beautiful."
"You're so pretty."
"What a beautiful princess."
"What a lovely ballerina."

At best these phrases are setting the stage for girls to strive for external beauty. At worst girls will build a sense of self around being told they are beautiful by their parents only to feel crippling self consciousness the first time another girl questions their beauty. The very worst part of this dialog is that I'm teaching girls that the packaging is more important or as important as what's in the package. And thus we elude feminism for yet another generation.

My goal is to stop telling my daughters they are beautiful. Instead I will tell them they are hardworking, smart, fun, funny, caring and strong. They happen to also be beautiful, but that's not important.

On Santa

2010-12-15T12:24:00.002-09:00

Is it just me or is there a divide between parents who "do Santa" and parents who don't? Honestly, like we need one more thing to debate. But I'm gonna jump on it anyhow...bwhaa haa haa.

Anyone who has ever uttered something remotely close to "be good so Santa brings your presents," can take their "it's magical for the kids" and shove it up their chimney. If Santa is being used as an external motivation to keep kids in line, then the whole game is simply a power struggle disguised as a discipline tool. There is nothing magical about it. Magic is a relationship between two people built on resolving conflict without one party manipulating the other. I don't claim to have a parent-child relationship void of power struggle and I'll admit that when all else fails I bring the "I'm the adult with more experience" gavel down. But I don't play games with it; it's not funny. And that's coming from someone who thinks most inappropriate things are hilarious.

Also, what is with the claim that non-Santa folks ruin the true meaning of Christmas for their children? What is magical about focusing on gifts Santa brings you? Really. Christmas (in it's celebration as a winter holiday) is as old as humanity. It is a time where food and shelter are redistributed so that disadvantaged members of the society won't freeze or starve to death before Spring comes. It is in this concept that Santa really does have a place. St. Nick gave profusely to the poor. So if we're going to celebrate Santa Claus shouldn't the emphasis to our American children, who have all they need, be on giving to those who don't have their needs met?*

For those who are afraid that your child will be told about Santa, I have to say that if you want your kids to have faith without proof (which I assume some people do) then this is an opportune time for your kid to have the chance to stand by their beliefs while learning that different people have different beliefs. Unless you lied to you kid about believing in Santa, in that case I can hardly apologize for ousting you. ;o)

My final gripe, and I swear this will be the last for this season, is the idea that somehow children who don't "do Santa" sit in a grey corner and have no pleasure in the month of December. There isn't a day that goes by in our house that isn't spent in celebration. We make gifts for friends, bake, make dried foods, set up train villages, have at least a dozen parties with our friends, donate gifts to those who need them and generally find something to celebrate every day. And, yes, my kids, who have everything, even get more gifts.

A very Merry Christmas to ALL!!!!

* Iphones and Wiis aren't classified as needs.

Tae kwon do

2010-10-23T10:16:00.001-08:00

Avalon sparring

The School Lunch Program

2010-10-21T18:17:00.000-08:00

According to a recent Washington Post poll nearly half (46%) of Americans do not support providing dinner to hungry children in the Washington D.C. school system. Ed Bruske writes for Grist Magazine that he is outraged at the lack of humanity left in the American heart. Bruske laments that “[t]hey [Americans] see no problem with our junk-food culture, and do not buy into the idea that children -- least of all poor black children -- should be eating better than anyone else” (2010). Bruske is hands-thrown-in-the-air out of ideas on how to deal with heartless Americans who would deny food to underfed children in Washington D.C.

Perhaps it’s time to give up on the hearts of Americans and focus on something more effective: the wallets. School children around the world are gobbling poisons masked as breakfast, lunch, and presumably dinner; meals that are chocked full of chemicals, fat and nutrient-free calories only to end up the most undernourished, obese and sickly people in the world. And we’re paying for it, multiple times over. We can feed children less expensively and more nutritionally using less tax-payer dollars than we are now.

According to the United States Department of Agriculture (USDA) the idea of feeding needy children in schools stemmed from the book Poverty written by Robert Hunter in 1904. Although food programs were established state by state in the early 1900’s, it wasn’t until Franklin Roosevelt’s Congressional Address in 1943 that food subsidies and the school lunch program merged. President Roosevelt’s goal was to “see that the food for our civilians at home is divided as fairly as possible among all of the people in all sections of the country, and that it is obtainable at reasonable prices” (Roosevelt to Congress, 1943). Roosevelt’s goal was realized through increased food production in the U.S. using farm subsidies. This situation seemed to benefit everyone involved; the poor were fed and farmers were kept producing. The farm subsidies focused primarily on dense foods, or those which carried the most calories, as the starving children of the World War II era needed the densest of food to survive. Calorie dense foods included primarily fatty meat, and schools were given excess, subsidized meats that could not be sold on the open market. Corn subsidies were established during this time as well, only to swell in coming decades. What was once a system that saved children from the real threat of starvation, has become the primary source of preventable disease for the poor.

Our country has changed, but our food subsidies have not. Our children are starving, not for fatty, dense calories, but for nutrient-rich calories. Our farms, with their subsidized crops, are owned not by individuals, but by gigantic corporations who spend millions of dollars on lobbyists who keep these outdated subsidies in place. Our schools are still receiving excess foods from these subsidized crops: meat no one will buy, and corn that no one can eat unless it’s turned into high fructose corn syrup.

According to the Food Research and Action Committee (FRAC) the federal government spends only $2.40 per child for children who qualify for the free lunch program. Supporters of the current system rally around this number, because it truly is such a low cost. This number, however, is grossly inaccurate. Not included in this number are the costs for subsidizing the food generated or the medical costs that are generated from poor quality food being consumed on a daily basis. There is such a direct correlation between children who qualify for the free lunch program and children who qualify for free healthcare that we use the school lunch program to identify those who need healthcare. Both programs are paid using tax dollars. When we add the taxpayer funded subsidy program to taxpayer funded school lunch and health-care, we have to include all three when determining the cost of our current program.

The Washington Post reports that the U.S. hands over about $19 billion per year to the agricultural industry in the form of farm subsidies (2007). Roughly $300 million is spent on healthcare costs for children under the Children’s Health Insurance Plan (CHIP). The Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality reports that the majority of claims in the CHIP program are for “children with chronic conditions” (2010). Among new chronic conditions that poor children are developing is Type II Diabetes. Type II Diabetes was until recently unheard of in children; in fact it used to be referred to as Adult Onset Diabetes. Type II Diabetes is a direct result of poor eating; it is found primarily in obese children. What used to take decades to develop is debilitating our school aged children. The National Diabetes Education Program (NDEP) indicates that Type II Diabetes can lead to other chronic conditions including high blood pressure, lipid abnormalities and hypertension (2008). These treatments are costly, preventable and cost taxpayers millions of dollars a year.

Let’s save taxpayer money and increase the health of our nation’s children. Currently, schools can only afford to operate within budget if they integrate excess overly processed, fat-laden foods into their programs because these subsidized excesses are free and don’t require a cooking staff. Because it will take time to untangle the subsidy programs, the first step should be to work with local schools to find a low cost way to bring back healthy food. One of the most effective ways to integrate healthy foods into the lunch room is through a school garden.

The school garden is an attractive part of the solution, because it is low cost and can be integrated into the curriculum. Also, because the students grow the food themselves they are more likely to eat the resulting fruits and vegetables. Grants are available to help fund the start-up costs for a school garden. For example, the North Dakota Department of Agriculture gave an $1000 grant to the Circle of Nations School to begin on their school garden. The resulting produce not only fed the students, but the surplus was donated to the local food pantry. This $1000 of taxpayer money went directly to the task of feeding children and the poor healthy foods, with $0 of excess being skimmed into the pockets of big corporations. Let’s turn our acres of school land into learning laboratories that let kids grow their own healthy lunches.

A second part of the solution is to bring cooks back into our schools. Currently, the lunch staff at a typical public school are reheaters, not cooks. Food comes in boxes and is mass reheated. In order to integrate fresh produce into the school lunchroom we need to redefine the job description of school cafeteria workers and let them create nutritional meals. This can be done through providing the current school cafeteria staff with tools and training. Popular chef, Jaime Oliver, has accomplished such a task in Britain and is now bringing this program to America. One doesn’t need to wait for Jaime to appear on the doorstep to get started. Talk to your school district. See who will help with integrating healthful steps into the cafeteria. The cost for training cooks is negligible compared with the cost of continuing on our current track of obesity induced disease.

At the high school level, get the students involved. Let students who aspire to become chefs or simply create a healthful meal for their family meet those goals through learning about nutrition and making nutritious meals for their fellow students. Students with learn about biology, nutrition and the chemistry of cooking if they are introduced to it in a way that is both fun and embedded with the concrete results of creating food that their friends enjoy. The more kids are involved the more likely they will be to support their creation.

Eventually the food system will have to change at the national level. Although the above steps can be taken on a local level, school by school, it behooves us all to demand our federal representatives make overhauling our national food system a priority. The need for farm subsidies is past, the need for healthful foods for all children is present and the need for those children to live without preventable disease is our future. Our hearts and our wallets depend upon changing our national food system.

Works Cited

Agency for Healthcare Research and Quality. “Health Care Costs and Financing.” U.S. Department of Health and Human Services. http://www.ahrq.gov/research/oct10/1010RA7.htm taken 19 Oct. 2010.

Bruske, Ed. “Americans Hate Feeding Poor Children at School.” Grist Magazine. 19 Oct. 2010. Web.

Center on Budget and Policy Priorities. “Policy Basics: Where Do our Federal Tax Dollars Go?” 14 April 2010. http://www.cbpp.org/cms/index.cfm?fa=view&id=1258 taken 20 Oct. 2010.

Food Research and Action Center. “National School Lunch Program.” Child Nutrition Fact Sheet. 2009. http://frac.org/newsite/wp-content/uploads/2009/09/cnnslp.pdf taken 20 Oct. 2010.

Gunderson, Gordon W. “The National School Lunch Program Background and Development.” United States Department of Agriculture Food and Nutrition Service. 27 May 2009. Web.

Morgan, Dan, et al. “Harvesting Cash: How to Spend an Extra $15 Billion.” The Washington Post. 4 Dec. 1997.

National Diabetes Education Program. “Overview of Diabetes in Children and Adolescents.” http://www.ndep.nih.gov/media/Youth_FactSheet.pdf taken 19 Oct. 2010.

Roosevelt, Franklin D. “Message to Congress on the Food Program.” The American Presidency Project. 1 Nov. 1943. http://www.presidency.ucsb.edu/ws/index.php?pid=16337 taken 20 Oct. 2010.

The robot torch is passed

2010-09-06T11:36:00.002-08:00

Elsa builds her first robot.

Movie review - Shrek Forever After

2010-08-25T12:17:00.000-08:00

Disney found a new audience with Shrek Forever After. Do I speak of children? No. If you are a parent who doesn't remember what an non-kid movie looks like this one is for you. Literally. Your kids will drag you to this movie so that you may commiserate with the tired and overwhelmed green dad (Shrek) who has been transformed into a child-entertaining machine and can hardly remember who he was before he became the Dad.

There is even a shout out to the attachment parent. Cosleeping? Check! Baby-wearing? Check! Weird green liquid in a bottle instead of lactation from what we assume is a mammal with mammary glands? Well, two out of three aren't bad. It's not like the relationship between attachment parents and Disney has always been harmonious anyway.

You may find yourself inching toward your partner to hold hands in solidarity by the time this movie is over. The idea of appreciating what you have only after you have lost it is pretty in your face, but some will enjoy the message it sends to parents and kids alike.

Would I recommend this movie to parents? Absolutely! And kids? With the sarcastic humor and somewhat nuanced message I would wait until they are solidly in their concrete operational stage of development. Unless they are only there for the bodily function jokes, of which there are plenty.

We like our Mike, and this is why...

2010-08-23T09:20:00.003-08:00

Mike.

He is Avalon's K-1 teacher. Not Mr. Mike, Mike. He is the absolute perfect teacher for Avalon and here's why:

1. He's Waldorf trained.
2. He's totally chill, ya know, like Avalon chill.
3. Avalon spoke to him for 5 minutes and then leaned over to whisper, "I really like him!"
4. He uses a harmonica to call the kids in from recess instead of a whistle because it's gentler.
5. He bought all the kids school supplies with his own money because, "we're a family group and we share our classroom supplies."
6. When Avalon asked her one question, "Do we get to paint?" he replied, "You can paint every day at choice time if you want to."
7. He has a teenage son and is a Kindergarten teacher and is still relaxed with relatively few gray hairs.

School starts tomorrow!

Draven

2010-08-07T21:21:00.000-08:00

We are having a blast with Draven!

We went

2010-08-01T21:01:00.001-08:00

fishing!

From the Dad desk

2010-07-07T20:45:00.001-08:00

Pat's story:

I made dinner Fri night. We were all sitting at the table eating and Angela says "thanks for making dinner Pat, this is really good". so i said "thank you - i like making dinner for my family". then she says "i love you" and i said "i love you too". Then Avalon looks at me and says (louder than mom) "thanks for making this yummy dinner daddy". so i said "you're welcome sunshine - i like making dinner for you". so she says "i love you daddy" so i said "i love you too Avi". then Elsa looks at me and says "you're a pee-pee poo-poo head daddy" and busts up laughing.... and Avi thought it was the funniest thing she'd ever heard, and so laughed spaghetti all over the plate/table/dogs.

just wanted to share, but couldn't find the right Hallmark card....

Mimi and Papa Came to Visit

2010-06-30T19:52:00.001-08:00

So we went to Homer.

Other People's Kids

2010-06-11T12:33:00.003-08:00

We have a sandbox. And a swing set. And many bikes. And a garden that the kids help with. And we're testing composting in a bucket with the kids. And we have bugs, lots of bugs for studying/killing with love.

So naturally we have kids. Every kid within a mile radius. All day. Every day. From 2-12 years old. They just show up in my backyard. They scream. They cry. They hurt each other. They hurt themselves. They are violent. They want to be fed. And talked with. They bring crap food and toy guns into my yard. They walk into my house. They walk through flower beds. They break the fence and gate. They make our neighbors yell. They bring enough High Fructose Corn Syrup into my yard for my kids to get a contact high from it.*

They are also dying to be helpful, curious, eager to learn and pretty darn cute. And I am learning much more about teaching than I have in my 10+ years taking education courses. I am also learning that we are not your typical family and that Avalon is going to be seeing more of the mania/violent side of humanity in school and I'm glad this summer is giving her some preparation. Also, Elsa's really excited to incorporate some of these violent games into her repertoire. You can see her Cheshire grin and rubbing of hands as her Nordick** horns begin to protrude.

*It is my researched belief that HFCS is crack for children. Physiologically - crack for kids.

**Nordick horns are carried on my side of the family.

Hooray for summer

2010-06-06T11:07:00.003-08:00

Guess what new toy we got*.

* Thank you Craigslist, Pat, Uncle Dana and Uncle Bobby.

Return of the Mean Guy

2010-06-02T10:07:00.003-08:00

I don't know who Mean Guy is or what he represents. What I do know is that I'd better figure it out if I want to understand my youngest daughter.

She started talking about Mean Guy awhile ago. "Me like Mean Guy!"

The last few nights Mean Guy evolved into a night-time (fear?) phenomenon.

As I was putting the girls to bed last night, Elsa told me that the Mean Guy was going to come to her house. Uh oh, the bedtime fears are kicking in! So I started to tell her the only people who would be in her house at night were those who loved her. And I named them, about 50 times - Dada, Mama, Avalon, Lenny, Liz. To no avail. Elsa continued to talk about the Mean Guy coming to her house.

So I switched tacks. "Let's talk about something happy. Avalon, what makes you happy?" (To which she always replies "When my family is all together." Can you say, AWWWWW?!)

Anyhoo, when I asked Elsa what make her happy she replied with a resounding, "When Mean Guy comes to my house!!!"

Ummmmm...

Could Mean Guy be Papa*?

*Mimi and Papa are visiting from Arizona at the end of the month.

Avalon turns 5

2010-05-08T21:16:00.001-08:00

Avalon Birthday Pix!

If you're selfish and you know it raise your hand!

2010-04-13T10:20:00.003-08:00

School.

It's the new breastfeeding. Everyone has an opinion. And on one end of the spectrum is what's best for the child and on the other is what selfish or uneducated moms do.

I have always made decisions that are on the 'best' spectrum. Breastfeeding, continuing to breastfeed even when I had to eat nothing but rice and fish. Comforting babies when they cry at night (sometime reluctantly I'll admit). Staying home with my kids. Only putting them in a preschool that could offer them something I couldn't. I had it in the bag. Points for awesome mom. Now that school is on the horizon I could focus on me for just a smidge.

Oh no! The best thing for your child? The very best thing? Especially for someone who is training in education. Homeschooling!

I don't know what it's like everywhere else, but Anchorage is all about homeschooling and they do it well. We also have awesome alternative schools, open optional programs, language immersion programs, ABC programs, and traditional classrooms all as part of the Anchorage School District. So I am thrilled to tell you Avalon is going to an amazing child-led education program in a small school with dedicated teachers that also scores super high on their standardized tests. Based on the research I've been doing since I WAS PREGNANT with Avalon, I think this school is great and meets her particular needs.

And soon I can finish my degree.

Win, win!

Except, if done right, homeschooling is the BEST thing for your child. And I've always done the best thing if I knew about it. But I'm not this time. Because I am making a decision based on what's best for me.

Poor Pat was about the 30th person to ask me.

Pat: "You need to talk to the ladies at my work. They want to know why you're not homeschooling."
Me: "Tell them I'm selfish."
Silence...

Yeah, I'm owning it.

Is holding your baby that hard?

2010-03-01T21:24:00.003-09:00

Do you remember the Harlow Monkey Attachment Experiments? I'm sure you've seen it - the one where the poor baby monkey is taken from his mother and given a dummy substitute mom. And the baby monkey ends up totally psychotic from lack of mommy love. I cry every time I see the picture, but here it is anyway:

Just when I thought there was nothing sadder than this experiment, I found out there's a human version. Now excuse me while I cry and prepare my kids to deal with the next generation of untouched sociopaths.

What's up with me

2010-02-18T09:19:00.003-09:00

Well, for one, I'm back in school. For two, Avalon is having her adenoids removed in the beginning of March which leaves us with more than a few appointments. For three, researching Kindergarten programs is time consuming. For four, my laptop is now in my bedroom and for five, Pat uses the computer non-stop with overtime work whenever he is here.

And that is why my blog is neglected. My heart-felt apologies to all.

So how are you?

You know you're a mom when...

2010-02-18T09:17:00.001-09:00

You know you're a mom when instead of sorting your laundry by lights and dark you start sorting by urinated on and not urinated on. You find that your not urinated on pile is not big enough for a full load.

Lights, camera...

2009-12-26T14:29:00.000-09:00

ACTION!

Xmas photos

2009-12-25T13:30:00.001-09:00

Here are the pix.

And check out the video bar for three new videos.

Cinderella, Cinderella

2009-12-23T11:58:00.003-09:00

Let me begin by telling you that Avalon has never seen Cinderella, never read the book, hardly even seen the character.

It turns out that four-year-old girls are excellent story tellers. Thanks to las princessas at school Avalon can tell the whole story of Cinderella, pick her out of a line-up and play out the story ad nauseum. As I started feeling ad nauseous, I do what I always do when I want to go into a diatribe; I watched and bit my tongue until it bled.

Avalon: "You be the step-mother Elsa. She's mean and bossy. And Lenny you can be Rucifer, the grumpy cat. And I'll be Cinderella."
Me: "Does Elsa want to be the step-mom? Elsa, do you want to play that part?"
Elsa: "Yeah!"
A long silence...
Me: "Um Elsa, I think you get to tell Avalon what to do."
Elsa: Eyes grow big, "Avalon go!"
Avalon: Pretending a dejected look, "Okaaay..."

After a few minutes of Avalon telling Elsa what to tell Avalon to do, Avalon revised the parts.

"Now I'm Rucifer, Elsa's Cinderella and mom is the step-mother."

After a few seconds:

"Wait, wait, wait!!!! I'm the step-mom, Elsa's Rucifer and Mom is Cinderella!"

"Cinderella!!! Go clean the bedroom! And then wash Rucifer! And then do the dishes!"

The moral of the story:

1. It turns out I've been Cinderella all along.
2. It's not very desirable to be Cinderella.

Party pix

2009-12-13T15:52:00.001-09:00

Here they are.

**Why yes, that is rabbit poop the snowman's face is made out of.

The Big 3-0

2009-12-13T15:26:00.003-09:00

So yesterday I turned 30. It's so horrible being old...

NOT!

I had the best birthday ever.

I was woken up with a breakfast in bed consisting of chocolate covered strawberries, brie, crackers and yet more chocolate followed closely by coffee. Avalon helped me devour this bounty while Elsa 'looked'. 'Me look' means she puts her nose two centimeters from the food without touching it.

We spent a nice quiet morning lounging around the house before heading over to Carolyn and Ernie's where we were supposed to stop by for a slice of cake. There was cake. And all our friends, all our kids friends plus video chat with my parents, best friend from grade school and sister. I was surprised. Not only were all my friends and family in AK at the party, but friends and family from AZ and TX thanks to technology.

The cake was a gigantic picture of me when I was six years old, missing the same front tooth as Elsa.

I opened some scrumptious wine and a card that I had to read 5 times before it sunk in. Carolyn and Ernie were not only going to keep the girls at their house overnight, but they had booked us a room at the Hotel Captain Cook, the swanky downtown hotel.

While sitting at dinner with Pat at a fancy restaurant downtown looking out at the bay and the amazing frosted trees (the look that is only achieved when ice fog rolls over them and then out again and the temperature stays just right for the frost to remain) I realized that one could not have a better day.

Since we had a perfectly empty (and quiet, did I mention quiet?) house waiting for us, we changed our hotel reservation until next week so we could take the kids with us to play in the pool, to see the gingerbread town and maybe take a horse-drawn carriage through downtown.

December is just one big celebration! Thanks to everyone for making it so special.

PS: We have pictures of the trees and the party, I just need to download them. They will be in a different post.

Halloween Pix

2009-11-07T12:17:00.001-09:00

Pictures of our first pumpkin (the one that was eaten by a moose).

Also check out the video bar for pumpkin carving.

I don't love the whales that much

2009-11-07T10:39:00.002-09:00

I've always been your garden-variety environmentalist. Then I had kids. And I had someone to save the world for, you know besides the whales. Any parent will tell you that protecting your offspring is THE most important innate drive that exists. So I became one of those MOM-environmentalists. Don't start talking about profits vs. our planet around me lest you wanna see a mama-bear in action.

But there is this new wave of environmentalists now. I keep reading on boards I belong to about childless environmentalists who believe that having a baby is anti-environmentalist. While we can all agree that children use resources and that humans have become a plague on the environment, I can't help but think these people are nuts. If it weren't for children they wouldn't exist. And I hate to get all selfish here, but I'd prefer not to go extinct AND have an ecosystem that retains it's balance. After all, who are we saving the planet for? I don't like whales that much.

Am I the only one?

2009-11-04T08:26:00.002-09:00

Do you have a fill-in-the-blank statement in your home that always has a filler?

I have one of those in my house called "While I was in the bathroom, Elsa...."

For example today's would be: "While I was in the bathroom Elsa pulled a bowl filled with water and hardboiled eggs off the counter and then Lenny spread the eggs, shells and water all over the house."

There is a 1:1 ratio of how many times in a day I visit the restroom to a new ending to the statement.

The Magic Wand

2009-11-01T09:07:00.005-09:00

Enough has been said about my distaste for princesses, especially Disney princesses. So, of course, while we were in Arizona my mom was simply delighted to dress Avalon from head to toe in princess garb, complete with a gown (I think night gown; Avalon thinks royal gown) covered in old-school-helpless-brainless-waiting-for-Prince-Charming-gag-me princesses.

I can't get the royal ~~night~~ gown off of Avalon to wash it. It's covered in sushi, milk, snot, dog slobber and who knows what else, but Avalon is a beautiful, albeit stinky (hey, they didn't bathe that often back in the day) princess and no one is going to tear her gown from her hands.

So I've had to get creative. It took about a week for me to convince Avalon that all of her dresses are princess dresses. The clincher was Avalon seeing a poofy-sleeved dress on Sesame Street that was obviously a princess gown and looked suspiciously like her kitty cat dress. She has enough regular poofy sleeved dresses that I'm able to keep them clean.

Yesterday I had to get more creative. It was about 10 degrees when we went out. Avalon had her beautiful princess dress and tiara, but she needed a petticoat. "Avalon, this (gigantic, boy's section, black and red parka) coat is perfect for your dress!" After an unbelieving look from Avalon I desperately looked around for a way for our princess to not freeze her fancy little butt off.

I found it! A chopstick. "Here's a magic wand Avalon. You can turn anything into whatever you want now! Watch. Poof! This coat is a beautiful petticoat! Now you try. Turn your (fantastic tread, warm, also found in the boy's department, blue) sneakers into glass slippers."

As a smile spread across Avalon's face I watched her turn everything she wore, everything Elsa wore and my Led Zeppelin shirt into pretty, sparkly princess stuff. As we drove down the street she turned the stop sign into a sparkly princess stop sign.

Now I have to stock up on chopsticks and pretty dresses. Thanks mom!

Suggestions?

2009-10-12T14:20:00.002-08:00

A recap of the last 3 hours:

12:01pm: Elsa dumps trash onto Mimi's floor. She is given the choice to clean it up or go in her room. She chooses her room, until she realizes she can't get out of the room (we tied the door handle to another door handle since she's cracked the lock and the handle itself). She proceeds to scream as I clean the mess.

12:05pm: Finish cleaning the trash and open the door to the room to find three piles of poo smooshed into the carpet and a toddler covered in poo. Clean Elsa in the shower, put Elsa down to scrub poo from the carpets.

12:14pm: Come to the living room to find that Elsa has dumped my coffee all over Mimi's kitchen/family room. Place Elsa in high chair, strap her in, start cleaning coffee. Ask Avalon to ask Papa to come in.

12:25pm: Ask Papa if he can think of a way to keep Elsa's diaper on. Just like any man, he suggests duct tape. Remove Elsa from the high chair, duct tape diaper, place Elsa back in room. Time for a nap Elsa, good night.

1:00pm: Elsa's still making noises.

1:16pm: Mimi mentions she hears the noises getting louder.

1:30pm: Papa says "Elsa is saying 'Mama, poo poo.' What do you think that means?"

1:31pm: Go to Elsa's room to find another pile of poo smashed into the carpet next to a piddle of pee. Try to figure out how she got the duct tape off. Answer: ripped the diaper. Clean Elsa off again. Place in high chair. Clean poo and pee out of rug again.

2:01pm: Take Elsa out of high chair, put diaper on, duct tape completely around waist and through legs. Put Elsa in bed and tell her it's naptime and that mama will not be staying in with her because she keeps pooping on the floor and that is not alright.

3:01pm: Elsa's still complaining but I am afraid to see what she's done now. I would like to forget the nap, but I think that may keep the pooping-to-get-out-of-the-room game going. Blog and beg for anyone with any advise on how to put an end to her pooping on the floor at will when she wants out of her room.

Anyone?

Angela's D.A.R.E. Program

2009-10-02T10:31:00.011-08:00

I know my kids are still young, but I'm already refining my BIG CONVERSATIONS repertoire for when the time comes.

I think I can handle the drug conversation. I mean it was ~~not really~~ effective for me when I understood the chemistry behind what drugs do to your brain and body. I plan to arm the girls with Knowledge and hope they're smart~~er than me~~ enough to not destroy their bodies with the most fatal of stuff.

But what about pot? I'm not saying pot is innocuous. I'm just saying that it's about on par with alcohol, except instead of liver disease you're looking at munchie-induced obesity and the health effects therein. The problem is that I can't see the side effect of mass Cheeto consumption being a deterrant for a teenager. Hmmm, let me think...

Well, pot IS illegal. Do kids care about that? Wait! And it makes you temporarily stupid...

And if you combine the two?

AHA! Meet the first audio-visual tool in my Keep-My-Kids-Drug-Free arsenal.

Peers (kinda)

2009-09-17T17:10:00.003-08:00

Lately an eight-year-old boy in the neighborhood has been coming over to play with Avalon.

At first I thought this was the beginning of her childhood play, but I am learning that four years is too great an age difference to develop a 'best buds' relationship. Today I learned a few things by listening. The first is that it's really hard to bite your tongue when you think your kid is going to have her feelings hurt or get swindled. The second is that it's best to bite your tongue.

When the boy told Avalon he was going to check to see if his other friends could play yet, I was afraid Avalon would realize he only comes over when the older kids are busy and that she'd get her feelings hurt. Instead, she said, "Okay, see ya!" and went back to playing.

When the boy came back and asked Avalon if she had any big kid toys, she asked him what he meant and found out he liked cars and trucks. So she came inside to collect all her vehicles, saying "These seem grown up enough to me."

When he asked if she had any planes and trucks that weren't "baby toys" she came back in to collect her matchbox cars.

When it was time to stop playing the boy tried to talk her into letting him have the cars.

Boy: "Can I have the cars?"
Avalon: "Well I have to clean up right now."
B: "Do you like those cars? I like those cars. Can I have them?"
A: "Like you want to borrow them? And take them to your house to bring back later? We like sharing. Let me ask Elsa because they're hers too. Elsa, do you want to keep these cars now or share them?"
Elsa: "MINE!"
A: "I don't think she wants to share right now. Sorry."
B: "Why do you even have them? They're boy toys."
A: "What?"
It was at this point I could no longer vice grip my mouth closed.
Me: "They aren't boy toys, they're toys for girls or boys or adults who like little cars."
B: "But they're for boys."
Me: "They're Avalon and Elsa's toys and they're girls. Besides there's no such thing as boys or girls toys."
A: "Well mom, I understand what he's saying. Like soccer balls are boys' toys."
As I turn red in the face, "Soccer balls are for boys and girls too. They are for anyone who enjoys playing with them."

The conversation ended here because I think both kids realized that they hit a nerve with Mom. I remember being told I couldn't play something when I was a kid because I was a girl and on the flip side I remember my friend's brother stopped playing dolls with us after his friends made fun of him.

How do I end this madness for my own kids? No more gender limits!

Good v. Evil

2009-09-15T11:17:00.005-08:00

I'm going to attempt to explain a philosophy that has developed more pronounced the longer I'm a parent.

I know that some of you roll your eyes and laugh when I talk about my distaste for Disney movies, princess crap and the like. And I sometimes write about it just to give you something to laugh about.

In all seriousness this is my real problem with it:

There is always a "bad guy" to the stories. I like to think of the world a different way. Every single person on this planet is born needing and wanting the same things. However, some are born with different processes in the brain or, more often, are taught through their experiences how to obtain these needs poorly or through destructive means. People are not evil or good. They use different means to obtain the same needs. Sometimes their needs conflict with or are hard to achieve in harmony with others.

I don't like the idea of good/evil or bad/good thinking when it comes to people or situations because it may lead to "there's nothing we can do about it; it's just bad or evil." In reality there is usually something we can learn from bad situations that we can use to change future outcomes. Other times we would benefit from a different perspective on the larger situation.

There are a couple kids' movies that come to mind where the antagonist is a poor situation, the movies end without human antagonists and the story is resolved though a good solution to a poor situation. Come to think of it both of these stories have been picked up, modified and produced by none-other-than, Disney. Curious George and My Neighbor, Totoro are the two I'm thinking of.

Dismounting soapbox.....now.

She really is a sweetheart

2009-09-14T18:03:00.003-08:00

I realize I need to let you know how wonderful Elsa is. I rag on her spunkiness on this blog because that's what's funny. I dig funny. But I think I'm painting the wrong picture of Elsa for you.

Today we went to the allergist's office for day one of patch testing. There were screaming children everywhere. While we sat in the little office where almost everything is OFF LIMITS we told Elsa's little dog what was okay to touch in the room and what was not. As Elsa was delighting in telling her doggy a firm, "No touch dog. That doctor's," we could no longer consciously block out the screaming children in all the rooms surrounding ours. "Baby crying! Baby sad! Baby need mommy!" Elsa told me while making her seriously concerned face. Between telling the dog what not to do and worrying about the screaming children we passed the hour and a half pretty quickly.

As we were leaving the office we saw one of the screaming children. The poor boy couldn't catch his breath and nothing could cheer him up. The nurses were trying their hardest. Elsa snagged an extra sticker and ran over to the boy to give it to him. He accepted, but was still really shaken. We followed behind his family down to the lobby, while Elsa fretted over his well being. Before his family could leave she bolted towards him, took the last two steps cautiously to give him a kiss on the chest. I think he was surprised right out of tears.

Thank goodness my kids like going to the doctor. I feel so lucky for that every time we go!

What is the mean guy's redeeming quality?

2009-09-13T17:39:00.009-08:00

The girls recently watched a movie that I thought was way too mean. My veto was overridden by the kids and the dad. With good intentions, Pat held his finger over the fast forward button for about five minutes until he got bored and the kids would have to scream, "It's too scary, it's too scary!" When I say kids I mean, of course, Avalon. Elsa runs on mean and scary.

Now that the kids have seen the movie, they carry around the package for the tape to ask each other which is their favorite character. Avalon picks the prettiest and Elsa points directly to the antagonist.

E: "Me like this."
A: "You can't like him. He's the mean guy."
E: "Me like mean guy!"
A: "Don't you remember? That's the guy who stole all the food. You can't like him."
E: "Me like mean guy, me like mean guy, me like mean guy, me like mean guy!!!! Mama! Me like mean guy!"
Me: "Avalon, you asked her who she liked and she answered you. Elsa you can like whoever you want."

Is that true? Will she like the mean guy/girl in real life? Will I let her? Do I have a choice?

Oh Magic 8 ball, let it not be so.

PS: In case you're curious the movie was A Bug's Life.

PPS: I hate Disney.

The repercussions of lazy parenting

2009-09-11T14:20:00.005-08:00

The kids won. Their bedtimes have been moved back so that 1) I don't have to wake up with Elsa at the crack of dawn (and the crack of dawn in AK this time of year is pretty early), 2) I don't have to use a bullhorn to wake Avalon up in the morning and 3) I don't have to endure unmeasurable amounts of whining. Elsa now goes to bed at 8pm and Avalon at 9pm.

Isn't that just fine and dandy? The one problem is that I am tired and have given up on my parenting duties by 8pm. Pat is glued to the computer working on who-knows-what these evenings. I'm sure he's told me, but after 5pm I don't do technical speak. Oh honestly, I don't do technical speak period.

So no one parents our children after dinner these days. They run around the house naked screaming like banshees while I contemplate whether it's too early for a glass of wine.

Our dear Avalon is picking up some of my slack.

"Do you want mom or Avalon to brush your teeth, Elsa?" "LALA!!!!"

"Do you want mom or Avalon to help you with your pjs?" "LALA!!!"

"Do you want mom or Avalon to put you to bed?" "LALA!!!!!!!!!!"

Of course, exactly five seconds after Lala 'puts her to bed,' Avalon comes running out of the room, slams the door and I hear, simultaneously,

"She wants you to put her to bed." AND
"MAMAMAMAMAMAMAMA!!!!"

So I do. And I really enjoy that glass of wine after they're both snug and asleep for the night. Then Pat and I crash. Because really, who can stay up past 9pm?

Last night it was about 11pm when Elsa cried out. That's strange...I hope she's not getting sick. At midnight both girls started crying. Hmmm....drag myself out of bed to find...

Elsa is soaking wet. Elsa's bed is soaking wet. All her baby dolls are soaking wet! I take off her jammies to learn that she HAS NO DIAPER ON.

That is the repercussion of allowing your four-year-old to do your job. You'd really think I would have learned by now. And that I'd stop telling the world what a bad parent I am through this blog.

NOFX and John Denver

2009-09-01T10:24:00.002-08:00

I don't know who could have figured this out, but a tech-head dad with a wide musical pallet. There are exactly two songs one can play in this house that will guarantee that Elsa will stop whatever mischievous thing she is doing to run down the hall and jam out.

NOFX and John Denver.

I lie, there is one other------>

You say it's your birthday...Elsa

2009-09-01T09:46:00.003-08:00

Gooooaaaaallllll!

Another year of sunny perfection for the girls' birthday party in Grandma and Grandpa's vast yard. I realize this isn't a big thing outside of AK, but I promise you this is more than chance alone here; we all save our karma points to donate to this particular cause.

Elsa was floored that she got to open all the presents. She inclined, "me?" and "mine?" all day. A two-year-old's paradise. A day that really is all about them. Avalon was unbelievably gracious in allowing Elsa this one day of the year.

Emily, the daughter of Carolyn's good friend, brought her violin and played for the kids. It was amazing! Avalon is now asking to go to violin school every 5 minutes. Emily was able to play three whole songs before Avalon was stung by a bee and I had to run her into the house to implement some Max and Ruby therapy. (We don't have TV, so it's extra special at Grandma and Grandpa's house.)

Of course we forgot the camera. That's what we do. Get used to it. Carolyn, recovering from surgery and broken ribs put us to shame by fighting her pain just to get the right shots.

Thanks Carolyn.

Thank goodness for Google

2009-08-25T09:57:00.002-08:00

I don't know what moms did before the internet. I'm serious. Any time I'm slightly curious about anything I turn to Google. I realize there's alot of bunk in such a public forum, but usually you can get the gist of the truth if you're careful.

Take today for example. What were my Google search words? "Is it okay to eat raw potatoes"

Because Elsa discovered she likes raw potatoes after pulling one I was getting ready to cook off the counter.

If you're interested, the answer is yes, unless it's green.

Mt. Potty

2009-08-25T09:07:00.004-08:00

Something clicked for Elsa. I'd like to take credit, but the clicking happened suspiciously around our borrowing of the Elmo's Potty Time (Elsa calls it "Lala pee pee poo poo") video from the library.

Elsa is now wearing panties in the house and going to the potty on her own about 50% of the time. That success rate rises every day.

Here's the funny part:

Elsa is just under 2 years old and in the bottom 10% for both height and weight. She's just a tiny person with a tiny little hiney. However, she thinks she's huge with a mama sized bottom. She refuses to use the little stand alone potty seat we bought her and she refuses to use the seat that you place on the toilet; the one Avalon still uses. Instead she closes the lid of the small potty and pushes it up to the big toilet. Then she climbs up and dangles her little bottom over the humongous seat to go potty. I'd be concerned that she might fall in and get turned off of using the potty. But in Elsa's case falling in would probably just make her mad and more determined.

Elsa is my Grandma Nordick reincarnate. I love that the Kaufman/Nordick orneriness and stubbornness will live on through this next generation. If I survive it, that is.

Yesterday

2009-08-21T07:47:00.007-08:00

Yesterday four of us moms with our combined six kids met at our house to caravan to Girdwood for hiking and a park picnic lunch. We managed to squeeze into two cars and headed on our way. Just as we got on the main road from my house I realized three things in this order:

1. There is a person laying in the road, in my lane of traffic, right in front of me.
2. As the person sits up I realize that they're wearing the same super-bright Kathy Sarns designed bike jersey my mother-in-law wears.
3. OMG! It IS my mother-in-law!

I pulled the car up behind her body and the mom behind me and I blocked traffic with our cars. As I got out two big men were getting ready to move her. I said, "No, don't move her! We don't know what's hurt." One of the other moms called 911 and I called Ernie (FIL). Carolyn (MIL) could hardly speak (I now understand it was hard because of the broken ribs). As always in our wonderful town, the paramedics were there lickety split.

I found out later that Carolyn didn't want to have an ambulance ride and that she was trying to get to the hospital without one. Oops!

A car coming out of the McDonald's drive through had hit her while she was riding her bike. The driver was on a cell phone.

So Carolyn is recovering in the hospital now. She has a broken wrist and broken ribs. They're going to do surgery on her wrist next week and will keep her in the hospital until she can handle the pain from small movements the broken ribs are causing.

Carolyn has always been inspirational to me. She broke her femur skiing a few years ago. It trashed her knee. She spent those years in physical therapy and working hard so that she could bike again. This was the first summer she was able to get back on her bike. She had worked up her endurance and has been biking all over Anchorage. Now she's pretty discouraged; she has to start the process all over again. But I know she'll do it. She's unstoppable!

Mediation

2009-08-18T14:43:00.007-08:00

I accompanied my friend to an Anchorage Equal Rights Commission Fact Finding meeting today. It was fascinating. That's all I'm allowed to say since I signed a non-disclosure agreement and can't talk about what was discussed.

I know what I want to be when I grow up! I want to be the mediator!

When I was in Jr. High I was a peer-mediator. They took a bunch of 13-year-old bookish nerds from the National Junior Honor Society and trained us in mediation techniques. Then they locked us in a room with two rival gang bangers who were in mediation to avoid expulsion for beating the crap out of each other (with or without weapons). They didn't have metal detectors at Carson Jr. High back then. See how tough I was?

I was not. I was naive and thought I could change the world one gang banger at a time. Actually, when I signed up, I didn't realize I'd be dealing with thugs either. So I was just naive.

But this experience was amazing and one of the best in my life. Gang bangers and bullies, when taken out of their environment, react exactly the same as you. They benefit immensely from mediation techniques and are happy when given the chance to express their side of the situation in words, knowing they are being heard and respected and they will come up with some great resolutions that you may not have considered. When anger is present in a situation there is nothing better than a third party mediator.

I saw this when I was 13, and I saw it again today. Anger being taken out of the equation, that is. I am very appreciative of our City having this program and when I (or my kids, actually) grow up I will find out how one becomes a mediator for the AERC.

Awesome!

No excuses

2009-08-11T17:19:00.005-08:00

When Elsa was born I had a short fling with cloth diapers. I spent a fortune on the whole system only to have them leak like crazy. I felt like a failure. To ease my guilt for choking mother nature with a mountain of never-decomposing diapers, I sent the diapers to a friend who I knew would use them. You know, the mom that has more kids than you, all of them in diapers yet she manages to not only consistently use cloth diapers, but also lovingly makes her own super cute diapers. Blek. (Sorry, Danielle, but there is such a thing as too perfect.)

Elsa's now nearly two and taking her diapers/panties/whatever she has covering her bum at the moment off as soon as she goes. Sometimes I use cloth pullups, sometimes I use panties, sometimes I use duct tape to keep her in one of those nature cloggers. I just recently found that if I use the outer shell of a G Diaper, snap the removable insert in and fold a cloth diaper into it just so that it is not only leak resistant, that it is ~~impossible~~ difficult for her to remove it.

The other day the girls were playing in the bedroom. I went to check on them to find that Avalon had snapped the insert into the diaper, folded and perfectly placed the cloth diaper and then put it on Elsa. It was perfectly done.

Come on! My four-year-old can do cloth diapering. I feel like such a loser. And now I'm dragging the rest of you who say cloth diapering is too hard with me out of this excuse.

Being a mom

2009-08-09T11:57:00.002-08:00

Just when you think you are under appreciated and that no one in your house thinks about what you do for them, something changes to re-motivate you:

I made bread today. Bread Elsa can eat. No yeast, no corn, no dairy. Naturally, it tastes like eating air.

Avalon and Elsa took a bite.

Avalon: "Mom! Did you make this by yourself!? It's so yummy! Thank you, thank you!" Runs down the hall, "Dad! Mom made this bread and it's the best. Did you know she made it herself?!" Runs back to the kitchen, hugs my leg, "Thanks for the bread mom. It is the best bread ever. Elsa give mom a hug and thank her for the bread."

After my hug from Elsa, I wondered if Avalon was trying to be funny. You know, she heard me talk about motherhood being a selfless job and decided to go on and on about some mundane task of mine. After some study it occurred to me that she's 100% sincere. Apparently I'm the only inappropriately sarcastic person in the house.

And now, if you'll excuse me, she's telling me that she "loves (me) bigger than the house."

Warm fuzzies...

Oh, I remember now

2009-07-24T16:50:00.002-08:00

I remember why I was procrastinating with the potty training thing with Elsa. It's GROSS!

Let me start by saying that she is doing remarkably well for a one-year-old (I can say that for another month) with a little help from her sister/coach. Too well. So well that she takes her pants and diaper off after or before she eliminates. Which totally sucks at naptime. She's always been able to 'go' at will to postpone her nap. Now she does, takes her diaper off and spreads it's contents around the room. She may be old enough to learn the concept of cues from her body, take her diaper off and even that it goes in the potty, but she just isn't getting the ick factor. I should have taught her that she's dealing with waste before starting down this road. And when I say that, what I really mean is that I should have stopped my four-year-old from making us start this too early.

I have lost the reins in this asylum...

I'm not paying for experience any more.

2009-07-23T10:49:00.003-08:00

When I was a teenager I used to shop solely at second hand stores looking for the perfect retro clothes that no one else at school would be wearing. I'd just DIE if I had to look like any of my peers. Because when you're a kid looking like someone means you THINK like they do and that was so not true.

Then I grew up.

And I made money. Good money. I realized second hand stores smelled funny. And the people there aren't very nice. The fitting rooms are too small. The florescents are too bright and sometimes they blink. I decided I'd rather pay full price for clothes while listening to calm music in a mostly smell-free, roomy dressing room.

Then I had kids. And I make no money. I spend all the money I don't have on the kids. But I forgot about second hand stores until I became desperate.

I conveniently remembered about them recently when I realized I needed new jeans but that I had a pile of unpaid medical bills sitting there. Hard to justify buying clothes when you need to pay for that surgery that saved your life.

So I went to the second hand store. And I will never buy new jeans again. I got a practically new pair of Levis that fit perfectly for me, a pair of jeans for each of the kids and a two stuffed animals for the kids for $12. That's 1/3 the price of a new pair of jeans just for me. Think of how much Advil and Purelle (to use directly after leaving the store) I can buy with the extra money!

Hooray for other people's castoffs!

Facebook group

2009-07-19T19:38:00.002-08:00

If you want to keep updated about H2Oasis please join the Facebook group. I am officially moving all info to that and off our personal blog. Back to writing about the funny things my kids do. ;-)

Jill Balgie's experience at H2Oasis

2009-07-17T21:43:00.001-08:00

"To All Mothers, Fathers, Families and Breastfeeding supporters-

My name is Jill Balgie and the following is my account of an incident that took place this past Wednsday July 15, 2009 at H2Oasis waterpark in Anchorage Alaska.

I had just finished nursing my son at the edge of the kids pool, where my 3 year old daughter was playing, when I was approached by an employee of H2oasis. The female employee kindly informed me someone had complained about me breastfeeding and I could nurse in the upper balcony or in the bathroom. She had also brought along a towel so I could cover myself. I informed her that I had been covered when I was nursing.

I felt very uncomfortable, shocked and no longer wanted to patronize this establishment so I left. When I returned home I called a Leader of the local Le Leche League and the President of The Breastfeeding Coalition who both informed me that Alaska has a law protecting a womens right to breastfeed in public.

Upon learning this I decided to return to H2oasis and ask for a refund. Once there I asked to speak to a manager. A man came into the lobby and introduced himself as Dennis the CEO and President of H2oasis. I started to explained to him what had happened and that I would like a refund. He immediatly and loudly relied "NO, NO WAY. I'M SO SICK OF YOU MILITANT BREASTFEEDING MOTHERS". Shocked I informed him of the Alaska State Law allowing women to breastfeed in public and Dennis replied (still loud and agitated) "I DON'T CARE WHAT THE LAW SAYS YOU WILL NOT BREASTFEED ON MY DECK". My partner Barry stated "my son has a right to eat." Dennis still loudly and emotionally responded "YOUR SON HAS NO RIGHTS HES NOT EIGHTEEN". Dennis then continued with (not a quote) I DON'T CARE HOW MANY LETTERS OR PHONE CALLS I GET. I DON'T CARE WHAT THE LAW SAYS YOU WILL NOT BREASTFEED ON MY DECK!

During this whole interaction Dennis was within a few feet from my face talking loudly and emotionally. Barry, sensing my fright and how intimidating I was feeling had to ask Dennis to back away from me. More words were shared between Barry and Dennis at this point and then we left.

I wanted to share our story to inform mothers of their right to breastfeed and to inform the public of the practices and admitted beliefs of Dennis Prendeville the CEO and President of H2oasis Indoor Waterpark.

H2oasis
1520 O'Malley Road
Anchorage, Alaska 99507
www.h2oasiswaterpark.com
Phone (907) 522-4420
Fax (907) 344-8138
e-mail: partgolf@aol.com

Thank you all for your support."

Jill Balgie and Family

I can't believe this happened in AK!

2009-07-16T18:27:00.002-08:00

We need to get the word out about the following incident so that
people can make an informed decision about patronizing this business.
Please send this to all the moms you know in Anchorage.

Last week a friend of ours was nursing her covered 10 month old while
her older daughter played on the pirate ship at H2Oasis. A female
employee confronted her and politely asked her to nurse in the balcony
or the bathroom. After this the mom felt unwelcome there and left.
She called the local breastfeeding coalition who told her that in the
state of Alaska you have the right to breastfeed anywhere and that you
can press harassment charges against anyone who asks you to move. The
mom wasn't interested in making a big stink about this incident, but
did agree with the representative that she should ask for her money
back since her daughter didn't get to play when they left.

When she returned to ask for a refund she spoke not to the employee,
but the owner and CEO of H2Oasis, Dennis Prendeville. The owner
yelled at her in the lobby of his own park. He told her he was sick of militant breastfeeding
mothers. When told that she was within her legal rights to breastfeed
there he said he didn't care and he wasn't going to change his
policies. He ordered her out without a refund.

I am asking you to stop patronizing H2Oasis at the minimum and to
stage a rebellion at the maximum. The mom has contacted all the
support agencies and is writing letters. If I were still lactating I
think I'd go nurse in front of him, refuse to leave and see how far he
took it. But I tend to get theatrical. ;)

Are you ready?

2009-07-12T08:37:00.001-08:00

Over a hundred pictures of our summer. Borjons, Croziers, Nordicks and Kilgers included.

Potty dictator

2009-07-05T07:57:00.005-08:00

I finally got Elsa a small potty seat. I was putting her off when she asked to go to the bathroom using the excuse that the seat was too high, she wasn't ready and that the stars weren't properly aligned. Fine, I thought, go potty in a potty, see if I care, but I don't have the energy or interest in helping you.

So I drop the box with the little potty onto the couch as I unload the rest of my arms. Avalon runs squealing towards the box. You would have thought it was Christmas. She tore the box open and demanded that Elsa follow her to the bathroom. Once in the bathroom she disrobed her sister, ordered her to sit on the new potty and took a seat on the big potty across from the little potty. "See Elsa, this is how you sit on the potty."

I leave the room bracing for a long learning curve. Avalon and Elsa are keeping themselves busy:

Avalon: "Push, Elsa. Push the poop out like this."
Elsa: "Grunt"
Avalon: "No! Don't get up til you get the poop out. See how I poop?"

I laugh as I walk away.

Then I return to the bathroom to find that Avalon didn't let Elsa off the potty until she pushed a tiny bit of poo out. Elsa's going to end up the first ever one-year-old with hemorrhoids. And then Elsa was so intrigued she used her finger to spread it across the wall.

Sigh. I guess I can't expect the four-year-old to do this job for me. Hours of the day spent in the bathroom, here I come.

The 4th of July

2009-07-04T20:19:00.000-08:00

We kicked things off with a family bike ride.

Then Pat went and got the kids a swimming pool. As we lounged in the kiddie pool on one of the 10 sunniest, warmest days in Anchorage's history (okay so I made that stat up, but it ranked right up there), it occurred to me that we should get ready for the BBQ at Grandma and Grandpa's house.

So we dragged ourselves into the house to speed dress and get the salmon for the barbie. "Find clothes that are red, white and blue girls!" We all went into our rooms and came out ready for the festivities. Except that Elsa and I had chosen to wear red. Me in my Chinese shirt and her in her beautiful Mandarin collared silk dress. After being called communists by Pat and admitting that we weren't celebrating Chinese Independence, Elsa and I went back to the drawing board.

The girls ended up in matching outfits. Blue jean shorts from GG and signed red, white and blue DC-80 shirts Grandma and Grandpa picked up at the last air show. There, America!

And we were off. Some of you, mom, will be ready for pictures of this matching family. I'm sorry to report everyone had too much fun to take pix, Grandma included. Sorry.

Happy fourth everyone!

I wear my ovaries on the outside

2009-06-29T11:33:00.002-08:00

Another Avalonism:

Avalon: "Can I wear my ovaries today?!"
Me: "What?!" You can wear your ovaries proudly every day sista feminista!
Avalon: "You know, the one's Mimi bought me yesterday?"
Me: "Oh! You mean overalls. Sure you can."

And now she's calling them 'overwears'. Maybe overalls are not logically named.

I do

2009-06-16T09:18:00.004-08:00

Over the weekend we drove the five and a half hours down the Kenai peninsula to the very end of the land. Here you'll find a 'small drinking village with a fishing problem' called Homer, AK. Homer is famous for their halibut fishing and views.

We drove in mid-afternoon on Saturday for Mark and April Smiggen's wedding. It was a beautiful wedding - small, intimate and right on the water. The serenity was only interrupted by two things.

Avalon: "Where's April? Why isn't she with Mark? What will her dress look like? Why is she going to wear a fancy dress? Why can't we see it? Where is April..."

and Elsa screaming like a banshee.

Ah, wedded bliss.

The reception seemed like it would be more wonderful for the other guests if we removed the banshee, so we didn't stay past the half hour ceremony. Which was about the time the hotel called to tell us our dogs were barking non-stop and upsetting our neighbors.

That night at the hotel Elsa woke up every hour or two screaming her head off. Nothing Pat or I did could calm her down. Eventually she would scream herself out and fall back into oblivion only to wake up a couple hours later.

The next morning after the crappiest continental breakfast I ever almost didn't regurgitate, we endured the scowls of our sleepless neighbors, ducked our heads and quietly checked out. Then we had a splendid real brunch with Mark, April, Mark's mom and his sister, Marilyn.

After we said our goodbyes and April sounded sincere when she thanked us for bringing our unruly children to her wedding, we started our trek back to Anchorage.

Since we've been home Avalon and Elsa have gotten married no less than a dozen times - to each other. I foresee paper towel wedding dresses in our near future.

Another cute play

2009-05-29T11:56:00.001-08:00

Yesterday was Avalon's end-of-year preschool play. So we have a ton of footage of cute kids dressed as flowers, picking their noses. Check out the video bar and enjoy!

No wonder I'm fat

2009-05-29T11:50:00.003-08:00

There is an unspoken rule that the moment a mom sits down to eat someone starts screaming. Seriously. Have kids read the studies about how stress hormones make us store 'belly fat'? Is there some evolutionary benefit to moms being fat and stressed? No? Then, why in the hell do kids always do this?!

I ate dinner out in the rain last night to escape the screaming. No joke. Wet food or losing it. Those were my options.

Rant over.

Nomenclature

2009-05-27T07:36:00.003-08:00

During my academic life (granted it was short and unfinished) I started using the terms B.C.E. and C.E. to compare, oh let's say, Babylonian times and the 80's. I have, since having children, begun to use B.C. and A.D.

B.C.: Before Coffee or Before Children. Can explain a day or an era.
A.D.: After Dora. Definitely an era. One I will not be sad to see end. Historians will likely call it the Irritating Ages.

Seaweed

2009-05-26T19:49:00.004-08:00

In case you didn't know, I've been trying to increase my iron intake after the whole losing-half-my-blood fiasco. I'm tired of being tired and I hate iron supplements. They hurt my tummy. Whaaa.

Over the weekend I read that seaweed has something like 5 times (okay, so I forgot the exact amount already) the iron of beef. And then I remembered the bags of seaweed I bought months ago thinking I could sneak it into Elsa's food for some extra trace minerals and vitamins. That was an utter failure. So I have three bags of salty seaweed in my pantry.

After putting Avalon to bed I sat in my chair and helped myself to a nice after dinner snack of dried seaweed. Avalon heard the wrapper from her room and peeked her head out to investigate. Normally I'd glare and tell her to get right back to bed, but tonight I said "What's up Avalon?"

Avalon: "What are you eating?"
Me: "Seaweed. Want some?"
Avalon: Big, wide eyes. "Yeah!"
Me: "Here's a little taste. Now go to bed."

And off she trotted with her seaweed.

Several minutes later she came back out.

Avalon: "Why did you let me eat food after I was already supposed to be in bed?"
Me: "I know, I wouldn't normally do that. I was just curious if you liked seaweed, I guess."
Avalon: "I like it! Can I have some more tomorrow when I wake up?"
Me: "Sure! Now good night."
Avalon: "Wait, what's it called? "
Me: Looking at the bag. "Umm, laver seaweed."

As Avalon walked back down the hall to her bed I heard her repeating under her breath, "laver seaweed, laver seaweed, laver seaweed, laver seaweed..."

And that, folks, is how you get a kid to eat seaweed.

Chores with kids - Cooking

2009-05-23T08:38:00.004-08:00

Most of you have kids, so you've either mastered cleaning and cooking around them or have given up on the whole institution. The latter would definitely be the sanest route, but then you have to imagine what your house would look and smell like if you take that course. Plus, kids need to eat, right? Here's a guide to cooking with a toddler:

The moment you crack the seal on the refrigerator your toddler will be there to pull all the glass condiment jars and eggs onto the floor. You need to employ the extendable leg and get in and out of the refrigerator as quick as humanly possible. It goes like this: Crack the door a few inches while extending your right leg (my fridge opens from the left) to create a gentle barrier between the kid and the fridge. No kicking! No matter what you'd like to do, that's child abuse in some states. This barrier works for 3.2 seconds. That's how long you have to grab the items you need. Use it wisely. Once the refrigerator has been opened it's a hot spot for interest and you won't be able to get back into it until the next meal. Now that you have your ingredients and a screaming child you are ready to cook. Only use the back burners, even though they are both super small and you have alot of food to cook. If you use the front burners you are guaranteed a trip to the emergency room for 3rd degree burns to the head and terms like "negligent mom" thrown your direction. It's totally not worth it. Cook in small batches. Turn on the back burner. Then realize none of the cookware is clean. You'll need to walk to the sink with the 20 lb. screaming weight that has wrapped herself around your leg. It's a good workout while you cook. Just make sure she wraps around the other leg next time lest you start walking like Quasimodo. Wash the pan and realize you're missing 20 lbs in one leg. Remove the chair that was dragged to the kitchen and the outreached hand that's about to grab the hot burner. As you use that sharp knife, remind yourself that you must, must, must put it away when you're done. Put all your ingredients in the pan and realize something smells really bad. Go change a diaper. WASH YOUR HANDS! Take the knife out of your toddlers hand. Take a moment to be thankful she didn't need an ER visit. Realize that no one needs to know you forgot to move the knife. Smell something else, not bad per se, but...burning. Turn off burner, move food. Let it cool while your kids scream about how hungry they are. Scrape off the burnt part, and Voila! Breakfast is ready. You now get about 2 minutes of silence. Use it wisely. Maybe to blog?

Next installment: Cleaning the floors.

Hello wheat

2009-05-21T14:05:00.003-08:00

Elsa had a long day. She was not allowed to eat all morning and then we spent five hours at the allergist's office, giving Elsa a thimble full of applesauce spiked with wheat every 15 minutes. Oh, how she longed for that little timer to go off so she could get a little taste of food in her empty little belly. And then towards the end she fell asleep on my shoulder. She was the most flexible, well-behaved Elsa she had ever been. And for all of this we now know she is no longer allergic to wheat. Hooray!

This sounds huge, eh? It is, kind of. Except, she's still allergic to corn and, well, go look at the labels on your bread, bagels, pastries, tortillas and pasta. See it? Yeah, corn.

So I need to learn to bake. Which, thanks to Google, won't be so hard. I have my Grandma Nordick's old noodle recipe (flour and water, anyone?) and I'll be looking for a cake recipe soon. I found some bread at the natural food store already. Pat's picking it up on the way home and tomorrow Elsa gets her first PB&J. Actually I guess it'll be AB&J (almond butter), but still.

After I make the cake and find my camera power cable I'll post pictures of Elsa and her very first bite of cake.

Comments

2009-05-20T08:12:00.002-08:00

I've been trying really hard to keep up with this blog. I think about you all the time. Now it's your turn. Let's face it, writing a blog is like talking to a brick wall if you don't get comments. And the joy of talking to no one in particular loses it's charm after a while. And then you stop trying. So please, if you read this blog, throw me a comment every once in a while. Yeah, I'm a wee bit vain, but isn't that why I blog in the first place?!

The tale of two sisters

2009-05-20T07:35:00.003-08:00

Actually I have a tale for each sister.

Avalon yesterday:

We had gone to the most lush plant nursery in town to get our green fix and meet our friends, Gretchen, Max and Axel. As Gretchen and I were corralling kids and trying to find the most beautiful hanging baskets as quickly as possible, Gretchen spotted her neighbor and her kids. As Axel and Elsa made their mad dash for freedom from the momentarily distracted Moms, Avalon squints and approaches the boy neighbor. She stops about a foot away from him, extends her arm and finger into a point and gasps, "Is that a teenager?!" The poor boy. It was like we were biologists who have spent years in the Galapagos Islands searching for the elusive teenager and finally found him. Avalon was that impressed.

Elsa today:

Elsa insisted that she needed to use the toilet. Usually I ignore her because I'm not ready for the patience that is required for potty training. Today I gave in and helped her onto the toilet while I got ready in the bathroom. Apparently she became bored at some point, grabbed my only hair brush (you know the one with the broken off handle that I refuse to replace; the one I was just about to use to brush my hair) and threw it in the toilet. I quickly banished her from the bathroom while I fumed silently about the fact that I would not have brushed hair today. Two seconds later I hear yelling. What is it now? Oh, she's peed on the floor. Lovely. But then I think about it. She knew she had to pee and asked to sit on the toilet. So the timing didn't work out this time. Naughtiness trumped bodily needs. But maybe she is ready to start using the toilet. Or maybe not, I do own only one brush.

They're so cute at this age

2009-05-19T09:41:00.002-08:00

Gag. Blek. Puhleeze!

I know I'm going to have my ovaries revoked for this one, but toddlerhood is the bane of my existence.

"Oh she's just so fun to watch." Yes, isn't fun to watch her destroy everything in her path, put herself in mortal danger with every breath and watch her mom pull her hair out? You sadistic people, you.

"Wow, she's vocal. Isn't it fun when they learn to talk?" Her vocabulary consists of "mine, no way, NO, now" and whatever it is she says when she throws herself to the floor in a frenzy of fists, kicks and head banging. Isn't that fun?!

"She sure is precocious!" That's code for spoiled, mean brat. Yeah, I broke through your passive aggressive code word, childless strangers. Nice try.

Let's list the things Elsa has done today and you tell me how fun it is:

She started screaming at 2am waking everyone up. Mom stayed with her until she fell asleep at 3am. At 5am she kicked her dad out of bed and climbed into bed with Mom, who was too tired to acknowledge that her bed had been invaded by a foreign dictator and that the locals had been displaced. She should have acknowledged said invasion because ignoring it didn't earn her much sleep. She was screamed at and poked awake at 6am sharp.

On her way to the kitchen where Elsa demanded, simultaneously and before coffee, a banana, a bar and water, she tried to tear Mom's favorite wall hanging in two, emptied two drawers and pulled all the power cords out of the wall.

While Mom was cooking her third breakfast course of potatoes and eggs, she dragged a chair to the counter intent on throwing the 18 carton of eggs to the ground and pulling the sizzling potatoes onto her head. Oh, is that Mom's coffee? Let's pull that down too.

Before Mom showers she whispers to Avalon to come get her right away if Elsa makes a step stool out of anything. And then, for good measure, removes all the furniture into a locked room. And brings Elsa into the bathroom with her. So Elsa removes every item from the bathroom drawers and then uses the toilet and toilet paper roll to scale to the sink where she can reach more things to throw to the ground. Dripping wet Mom futilely tells her to stop right now.

It occurs to Elsa that while Mom is on the phone she is not devoting 100% of her attention to her, so she throws a dump truck at Mom's head.

It occurs to Elsa that while Mom is gardening that she is not devoting 100% of her attention to her so she runs into the street anticipating being hit by a car. That will show Mom.

It occurs to Elsa that while Mom is typing this blog post that she is not devoting 100% of her attention to her so she starts screaming and pushing mom away from the computer while smashing banana into Mom's new jeans.

It's now 10am.

I have developed a mantra to get me through this stage. "It will end. It will end. It will end." The only problem is that it doesn't just end. You can't tune out and wait it out. This is the time where you HAVE TO be engaged and:

Not yell. Because then they learn to yell and they like reactions, even yelling ones. So it reinforces the behavior.

Teach natural and logical consequences. Getting hit by that car is too natural for me though, so we resort to going back in the house and the gardening goes undone.

Be consistent. Even when it screws up your whole agenda.

Pick your battles. Give up on fighting over messes and focus on the behavior that may kill them.

These seem pretty simple? They are totally not. Unless you are some kind of Zen Master. But the consequences of not following them is having a kid permanently stuck in this stage. Which would be a kind of living hell.

So I try not to disengage my brain and think forward to the fruits of my labor.

Aren't they cute at this age?

Avalon's 4th Birthday Party

2009-05-18T08:04:00.004-08:00

Avalon's karma continues to pay off. For the fourth year in a row we had a beautifully sunny day for her party with just enough wind to keep kites in the air.

This year we got to witness friendships that Avalon grew without parental assistance. Her best friends from school, Gabriella and Olivia, were there. As Olivia's dad, Barry, pointed out these girls likely share one chair and one brain at school.

Our long time friends, Max and Axel (as long as you can be friends when you're 4 and almost 2) came again this year with their mom, Gretchen. Gretchen and Elsa are best buddies. I think Elsa is working out a coup to overthrow me as the mom and instate Gretchen. But don't worry, I'm on to her. You should see (oh wait, you will when I give you the link) Axel fly a kite! And the fairy house that Max picked out for Avalon was a HUGE hit with the kids. We may need extra fairies though to prevent future brawls.

Anita, Avalon's older and wiser friend made it again this year with her mom, Celia. Anita knows ALL the tricks to putting the kites together, opening the really tough wrapping paper and most of all, knows what a 4-year-old girl would like best. She's been there already, doncha know. Her my little pony gift was a hit with the kids. The two sets of ballet slippers and ballerina gowns for the pony were changed over and over again until the perfect ensemble was achieved.

Tom and Kathleen made it again this year too. Tom holds the record for highest kite flying two years running. They always get my favorite toys for Avalon. As soon as we got home, after much begging (on Avalon's part, I promise), Avalon and I sat down and made paper flowers with the kit. I'd even have pictures for you if only I could find my camera cable.

Thankfully Grandma is home so we are not completely without pictures.

Thanks to Grandma and Grandpa for letting us use their home again and thanks to all our friends for a wonderful day!

Beer and the kid's party

2009-05-17T11:29:00.004-08:00

Kids' parties are for kids. Sure. So we supply lots of good old fashioned juice.

Pat and I have this discussion every year.

Me: "Should I get soda and/or beer for the adults?"
Pat: "No, it's a kid's party. Get juice only."
Me: "But there will be adults there."
Pat: "So? It's not a party for them."
Me: "Okay." And then I go buy juice and soda. Because parents shouldn't have to drink juice with Clifford on it.

This year I didn't ask. I went to Costco and I bought the freakin' huge crate of Alaskan Amber beer. With my kids in the cart. And I let Elsa hand the money to the cashier. That's the kind of monster I am.

Why, Angela, would you buy all that beer? You don't even drink beer.

Because other people do. And all the kids' parties I've been to lately have beer. Yes, I'd totally jump off a bridge if they did.

But my number one reason is if you've made it long enough to be a parent of a 4-year-old you deserve a beer (or two or twenty).

Fancy Nancy

2009-05-15T06:48:00.003-08:00

Mimi got Avalon a book called Fancy Nancy's Favorite Fancy Words. Avalon and I LOVE this book. It has a fancy word for each letter of the alphabet so Avalon's vocabulary (that's the 'v' word) is growing at a fun rate.

I like fancy words too. That's why you'll sometimes see me take words like behavior and English it all up to behaviour. It's just more exotic with the extra 'u'. How fun is that?!

I guess I'm in sad need of a vacation.

Kid song

2009-05-14T11:05:00.004-08:00

"Rattle, rattle, crash, beep, beep."

These are the words to a kid's song on a CD I was playing for the kids while we had a friend, Axel, who is Elsa's age, staying with us. While I was smiling at the dancing little ones, Avalon came between me and the happy-go-lucky 20-month-olds.

Avalon: "Is this song about a car crashing?"
Me: "Umm, it's saying 'rattle, rattle, crash, beep, beep.' I think it's about a car."
Just then the song ends with a screeching of tires and an audible crashing of a car with horns beeping.
Avalon: "Did that car just hit a person?!!!"
Me: "I hope not. That's pretty gory for a kid's song."
Avalon: "How big would the hole in the person be if a car hit them? Would they need to go to the hospital?" "What would happen if I got hit by a car? Would I die? Does everything living die? Will I die???!!"

Curse happy kid's songs. We'll stick with Pink Floyd, Tool, Nirvana and other artists where you have to be high to understand the words, thankyouverymuch.

Elsa's new stay awake trick

2009-05-12T12:27:00.002-08:00

Ever since Elsa was an infant she has had the bad habit of pulling my hair and scratching me while she fights sleep. I am (quite kindly I think) attributing the behaviour to her painful first half year of life where she, unknown to me, was in constant pain from food allergies.

As she got older, I stopped tolerating the behaviour. I started telling her that if she continued to hurt me I would put her in her bed instead of singing and rocking her. Lately she has become better at controlling herself.

She recently learned a new trick, however. One that has broken through Mom's defenses. She starts kissing me like crazy. It cracks me up! But I can't laugh too much, because if I were to open my mouth I'd be french kissing my baby. So she uses her machine gun kisses to get me to laugh and the two actions effectively keep her from falling asleep. And since she's not hurting me and my laughter is half the problem I am unable to find a suitable way to modify her behaviour.

You definitely catch more bees with honey!

Mimi

2009-05-12T12:24:00.003-08:00

While I was putting Elsa down for her nap just now, Avalon made a card. She wrote, without assistance, 'Avalon' and 'Mimi.'

Avalon: "Do you think Mimi will like this?"

Me: "I think she is going to love it!" That the first word you spelled by yourself, after your own name, is Mimi and that you made a card for her and that she gets to tell her all her friends this story, and...

My body and their religion

2009-05-12T07:55:00.005-08:00

I refrained from writing about this for fear that I would offend Catholic and other Christian readers, which make up the majority of you. I am sorry if this offends you, but I have to put it out there because, well, I am so offended.

Two weeks ago I landed in the ER thinking I had an out of control stomach flu. Several hours later it was determined I had an ectopic pregnancy and had to have surgery immediately. As the OB/GYN surgeon described that he would be removing a portion of my right fallopian tube I asked him if he would tie the other (perform a tubal ligation) on the other. He was already opening me up and we are done having children. Well, apparently the Catholic board of Providence Medical Center does not think the right to choose whether I'm done having children is mine. The surgeon was not allowed to tie my tubes during surgery because the operation was being performed in a Catholic hospital.

So let's start with dissension. It's a private hospital, just go elsewhere. That doesn't fly because I had to have surgery immediately and even bigger, my insurance company likes Providence and will pay without question there. Then there is, well just have it done later. Yes, let's go to a hospital that my insurance company will fight tooth and nail to deny claims over and have ANOTHER SURGERY. Then there is, well you can't expect a Catholic hospital to change their values. Hello! I had an IUD which prevents fertilized eggs from implanting. That is actually the point of conception in the right to life world. I was asking to get rid of this potentially controversial method and make it so that eggs aren't even available for fertilization. Since when is this a right to life issue?! Are we saying my unfertilized eggs are life? Puleeeze.

And then there is my final question: Why would Catholics want to encourage Atheists to procreate?! They should be jumping to tie my tubes...

Sorry, that was a bad joke. The bottom line is that this is the first time in my life where religion has interfered in my life decisions. And I don't like it.

Kid treatment

2009-05-11T11:06:00.002-08:00

Several times a week Avalon receives the following 'compliment' from men (usually those of grandfather age): "She is so beautiful!" Sometimes they add the words 'cute,' 'should be locked away as a teenager,' and 'dad needs a shotgun.' Avalon is less than impressed when this happens.

Yesterday as Avalon and I were enjoying a nice quiet Italian dinner in a restaurant together (just one of my many Mother's Day gifts), a grandpa stopped by to gush over her. She turned her head as far as possible from him to accentuate her discomfort and displeasure with the attention. As the words, "Thank you" and "That was nice, Avalon" escaped my lips I thought of something.

How would I feel if an old man came up to me and said these things? I'd probably give him a finger instead of the back of my head. And I would think he was a dirty old man.

Let me be clear that I don't think these grandfatherly admirers are dirty old men. But now I am curious how our society expects a polite 'thank you' from a child for a comment that would be inappropriate to say to an adult.

Thoughts?

Avalon the four-year-old

2009-05-09T09:37:00.006-08:00

It didn't take long before Avalon realized that birthdays may just be better than Christmas. You know, because they are all about you. Not that Avalon is especially selfish, but she most definitely is a 4-year-old. On the eve of her big day we answered the following question(s) ad naseum - "Tomorrow is my birthday? Only mine? Not Elsa's, not Mom's, not Dad's? Only mine? I'm the only one in my school who's birthday it will be? And I'll be four?!"

"Yes! Now go to bed so you'll be well rested for your special day."

Well, of course, excitement that trumps Christmas does not go to bed. So I ended up asleep before she did. Which meant the cupcakes didn't get made. Strike 1 for Mom.

The following morning it was Dad who was too excited to wait. He had spent the last two days picking the bike up, putting the bike together, adjusting the seat and brakes and deciding the perfect spot in the house for the unveiling. And he had to go to work, soon. So we woke the sleeping beauty with a pile of presents. She proceeded to shove them all off the bed and roll over to continue snoring. Then we sang 'Happy Birthday' and were blinked at and then asked to leave. About a millisecond later it dawned on Avalon that her birthday was more important than sleep. She groggily got up and asked that we take her presents to the living room.

The living room is where the blue bike with flowers sat, untouched except for the last two hours of Elsa's grubby jelly prints and drool. The bike needed to be ridden, now. So we adjusted the helmet and Avalon learned how to ride in the house. She learned the most important lesson of bike ownership - how to brake. And then she was satisfied enough to move on to the packages.

Avalon opened Madagascar II, a book called Fancy Nancy's Famous Fancy Words and a gem mosaic kit from Mimi and Papa. She delighted in the book and demanded that we play with the gem kit immediately while Elsa snuck in for the castoff Madagascar video and (not-so)discreetly demanded I put it in the DVD player. After convincing Avalon that it would be more prudent to wait to work with glass art until Elsa was asleep or otherwise engaged, reading the book and popping the video in I went to clean up.

I came out to find Avalon screaming "Turn it off! Turn it off!" and Elsa throwing a little yellow robot against the ground. Apparently my old rule of watching videos before the kids was a good one. And the one time I did not follow this rule I find Avalon in hysterics because Alex is getting the crap beaten out of him. Nice.

Elsa, on the other hand, is riveted by the cartoon violence, taking notes for her next unsuspecting victim. And Elsa has the robot because as soon as Avalon opened it and couldn't figure out how it worked cast it off.

We opened the cards where Avalon and Elsa (GG can't send something without including everyone) received $2 and a birthday check for Avalon. Avalon immediately turned to me to say, "Here Mom, you always need cash, so you can have this." While suppressing a grimace I told her I'd hold it for her until she decided how she wanted to spend it (there's no more room in her piggy bank so we can't stash it there).

We moved on to getting dressed in time to stop by the store to buy *gulp* store bought cupcakes. After donning her "I AM 4" princess tiara and puffing out her chest we set off for the grocery store. Avalon delighted in the smiles and "Happy Birthdays" she received in the store, afterwards whispering to me, "How do they know it's my birthday? Oh right, the tiara."

Then we were off to school, where we had prepared gift bags for each of the children. I fumbled through my atrocious Spanish as I asked where to put the cupcakes and gift bags (why, oh why, didn't I google the Spanish word for 'cupcake' before I left the house?!) and turned around to give Avalon a kiss and hug. I wished her a happy birthday as I realized that her dream of being the center of attention had been realized. And that she's mortified by it. Oh well, attention is something we have to endure on our birthdays. "Adios Avalon. Te amo. Feliz Cumpleanos!"

We picked Avalon up from school at noon to find that not only did her class sing "Feliz Cumpleanos" to her, but the older class did too!

Avalon's bike must be ridden despite the fact that Elsa will not go down for a nap. After much work, Elsa finally sleeps. Avalon gets to spend some uninterrupted time practicing outdoor riding. Outdoor riding is not remotely close to indoor riding. Hills are impossible, uneven ground is the enemy and the training wheels are catching the ground causing the back tire to spin out. Thankfully Grandma and Grandpa show up just as Elsa wakes up. Grandpa fixes the training wheel problem and teaches Avalon a few biking tricks. Elsa figures out that the solar powered robot needs direct sunlight to operate. And everyone plays happily.

Grandma and Grandpa came over for a purpose - to take the Birthday Girl out for ice cream. Can this day get any better?! Off to ice cream they go while Elsa and I stay behind to eat salmon and rice.

After Avalon returned home, we spent the rest of the afternoon riding the bike up and down our cul-de-sac street. We only came inside in time to make a simple salad with precooked salmon and pasta in time for dad to get home.

Incidentally, the robot, plus two others, were from Auntie Amber and Uncle Marc. Avalon can't wait to put the other two together and now that she knows that the yellow one "gets its energy from the sun" she loves watching it walk into shade where it abruptly stops.

At bedtime Avalon sleepily asks, "Will I be four tomorrow too?"

"Yes, you'll be four every day until your next birthday."

With a smile on her face she lets herself go to sleep.

Elsa pix

2009-05-08T18:06:00.001-08:00

Elsa

Time for some random Avalon quotes

2009-05-06T18:49:00.000-08:00

"Can I pretend that I'm a piece of play dough and someone's rolling me out?

Can I pretend this balloon is my friend named balloony-moon and I'm holding his hand while he floats?

Can I pretend to be a kitten just being born? Are baby kittens born from their mama's uterus? Where were we before we were born? Where were we before that?

I'm a baby bird so I can't use my hands.

I'm going to go be born in the closet.

Go, go, go. Rapido bicycle!

Why can't I see oxygen? I can too see oxygen - there it is right there!

Why isn't surgery fun?

Is that electronics? So it can't get wet?

When I was a baby did I not know how to fly?

I'm pretending your a teacher bird who speaks Spanish, tweet, tweet."

So you want details?

2009-05-01T12:07:00.006-08:00

First, at about 3:30pm on Saturday, Elsa fell and knocked her top front tooth out. She's fine but will retain the hockey player look until she gets her permanent tooth in.

About a half hour after Elsa's fall I started getting sick. Sick, sick, sick. We thought it was the stomach flu but it was so much worse than anything I'd ever had. I couldn't raise my head without passing out and I felt like I was internally bruised throughout my torso. I have to admit the reason I didn't go to the ER that night was that I was
afraid I wouldn't make it there - the bathroom floor seemed like a much better alternative.

I started feeling better the following day, but was still dizzy and feeling bruised, only very low. In the back of my mind I was also thinking about the fact that I'd been menstruating for 3 1/2 weeks.

At about 4:30pm, even though I was feeling better, Pat convinced me to call the midwife. While I was waiting for her to call back I had a nagging feeling that if I moved or ate I'd be right back where I started the night before, so I asked Pat to take me to the ER. Carolyn, as always, dropped everything she was doing and came to the house to stay with the girls.

When we described the events to the ER doctor and I told him that I had a feeling that the problem may be related to my IUD and prolonged menstruation, he assured us that the symptoms I had were more along
the lines of a stomach flu. He gave me some fluids, anti-nausea medicine and pain medicine that knocked me out while they ran blood tests. Several hours later he came back to tell us, "technically, you're pregnant." The pain drugs kept my shock in check long enough for me to realize that there was some trickery involved within my
body. Things were not adding up. So the doctor sent me to have some ultrasounds.

A couple hours later we were informed that I had a ruptured ectopic pregnancy in a fallopian tube. And the IUD was MIA. I was bleeding internally, my blood cell count had dropped from like 4400 to 2000 (the doctor said I was running on half a tank) and there was a 50/50 chance I'd need a blood transfusion.

They did a laparoscopic exploratory surgery and thankfully were able to remove all the blood, the clot and found and removed the IUD that had left the uterus and wedged itself into abdominal tissue, laparoscopically without a
blood transfusion.

I was released from the hospital at about 2:30pm on Tuesday. Apparently it will take a month to regain my blood count, so I'm supposed to be tired for that long, but seriously, like I wasn't already. ;-)

Right now the surgery site actually feels like it's healing, but I have a killer, non-stop headache and dizziness that I can't shake. I guess I have to just keep taking iron and drinking water and hope I regain enough blood to make my head happy before Pat has to go back to work Monday.

Despite all my complaining, it was excellent timing and it could have been so so much worse. I was actually very lucky. And Elsa was too.

Did you lose your lunch?

2009-05-01T12:01:00.003-08:00

I'm sorry. I should have warned you before posting a picture of my disgusting, flabby, stretch-marked, bruised, scarred and just, well, gross belly.

What would possess me to admit to having such a gross belly and show it to anyone with a strong enough stomach to look at it? I just don't care anymore. I used to have a relatively cute belly, not cute enough to show in public, but not grotesque. I wouldn't ever show that okay belly, but I'm posting this one. Crazy! It's because I really don't feel like it belongs to me anyhow. That's just some fleshy thing on the outskirts of me that was the result of two kids and two surgeries.

*I'm sure the Vicodin helped in this lapse of self consciousness.

What a week

2009-04-30T14:25:00.004-08:00

This is how we started our week:

And this is how we ended it:

Feeding Einstein

2009-04-23T13:15:00.004-08:00

Pat brought home a Scientific American magazine after his last trip to Philadelphia. It is the only thing that has survived atop a table that Elsa likes to pillage. I'm amazed it hasn't been ripped to shreds. She has no such respect for my magazines. She'll scale to the tops of the furniture to destroy my favorites.

I just witnessed the following:

Elsa took her chair from her drawing table. She carefully carried it to the tall table. As she climbed to the top of the chair while holding a bowl of apples, she gently placed the apple bowl on the table. Once she was situated she began taking apples from her bowl and placing them on the magazine. Upon a closer look I realized what she was doing.

She was feeding apples to the picture of Albert Einstein on the front of the magazine. Apples are, after all, brain food.

Einstein's wife's name was Elsa. Coincidence?

I wear my sunglasses for art

2009-04-23T09:14:00.003-08:00

What Avalon is working on right now

2009-04-21T19:16:00.006-08:00

Pat and Avalon like to work with electronics. It is soooo cute. Avalon has her own computer now, which is the slowest throw away computer Pat got his hands on and then loaded Edubuntu, a Linux based educational suite, onto it. They also have an old Atari and one of those 101 Electronics kits. So even though Avalon may be, oh, about 30 years behind the technology she is learning how they work which is too, too fun to watch.

Check out the video in the video bar too.

You're welcome, Mimi.

Happy Spring and other events

2009-04-21T09:18:00.004-08:00

Okay, blog, you have been horribly neglected. Mimi, with your sad, unrequited pleas for pictures of your grandchildren, you have been neglected. You've been neglected in lieu of the girls. Who are becoming very demanding. In fact Avalon is demanding now. "Can I please have something else? Can I please have something else? Can I please have something else? Can I please have something else? Can I please have something else? Can I please have something else? Can I please have something else?" So if you'll excuse me for a moment while I get her 5th breakfast...

And I'm back.

It's spring in Alaska (aka Breakup) and we are like deep water fish seeing light for the first time. Two weeks ago we were in snowsuits sledding down our friend's driveway and just 6 days later we were riding bikes in said driveway. We've also been taking daily walks to the grocery store so that we can have fresh meat for BBQ when Pat gets home. This walk means I heft a limp, sleeping, heavy (though not as heavy as Avalon was by half) baby onto my back while I push our 4x4 stroller as Avalon's limp legs catch on the wheels. Did I mention the kids fall asleep on our walks?

This is why we live in Alaska!

On another note, I'm taking classes during the summer session and have told Avalon that we'll find someone to stay with her and Elsa while I go to grown up school. She wants me to find her an Emma. Every day she asks me if I've found her Emma yet. And why oh why can't we see the real Emma. Emma is a family friend's niece who is about 10 years old and is Avalon's view of perfection in an older friend. I have to agree that Emma is pretty special, but she lives in Portland so I just feel sad every time Avalon asks for her. "You know Emma who I held hands with? Why can't she come over???" Over and over. We need an Alaskan Emma!

Two months ago we took our house off the market after having it sit there, showing but not selling, for four months. I'm actually pretty excited to get to enjoy the bulbs I planted here in the fall and our messy, but big back yard. Then last night I get a note from the realtor saying that someone who saw our house months ago is interested in buying it. Hmmm... We have this tiny two bedroom home to share among four people and two dogs, so yes it'd be nice to upgrade. But we'll lose our yard, our cul-de-sac and what little financial comfort we've gained. We're mildly conflicted. But at least there's hope that the market is coming around.

Happy spring everyone!

Elsish

2009-04-13T11:03:00.004-08:00

Translating Elsa speak:

la la la: Elmo

la la: Avalon

lenny: All dogs and furry animals

mine: I may bite or hit you soon and take what's in your hand

ba: bath, ball, or anything else that starts with the letters 'ba'

bla bla bla: banana

no: I'm about to throw my body onto the floor whilst wailing, screaming and flailing

mommy: I'm angry

daddy: I love you

Happy Easter

2009-04-12T21:54:00.000-08:00

We had a wonderful Easter this year.

First the girls hunted for eggs in the house, which was of course followed by the consumption of eggs. Elsa is not allergic to eggs, so it was nice to be able to crack eggs and eat together.

Pat took the girls up to the ski chalet at Arctic Valley, which Avalon affectionately calls Winter Valley (thanks, Dora). After finding some eggs to trade in for great prizes like bubbles and watching the Easter Bunny ski down the hill they headed back home. I'm always impressed the Easter Bunny is able to stay on his skis without falling on his big bauble head.

Then we went to an amazing dinner with the most hospitable people ever - the family of Avalon's very good school friend. We ate the most delicious beef I've ever had (I don't often eat beef, but I made an exception for this). And we met some really wonderful and interesting people.

Here are the pix. Oh wait, we didn't get any pictures. Sorry everyone, but we were having too much fun to stop and snap a shot. Don't be too angry mom.

Avalon's fifth robot

2009-04-07T18:35:00.002-08:00

As some of you may recall, Avalon and Pat have been ordering and building robots. Avalon is now building them by herself with only slight guidance. She's doing all the manual labor. Her newest creation is a ladybug. Check out the pix!

Major brain fart

2009-04-07T15:34:00.002-08:00

I enjoy writing so much. I miss doing 'adult' things. I should start writing and see if I can get published!

Wrong.

The moment I decided to try to write for pay my brain stopped functioning. Seriously. I haven't been inspired to do anything since. Not even blogging about my crazy kids.

So there you go. I turned this into work and now it's not fun. If it's not fun I'm not interested. Now if you'll excuse me, I'm going to go sledding with my kids.

A hex on Mother Nature

2009-03-26T16:53:00.004-08:00

This

is standing in between Pat and his family. Thanks to Mt. Redoubt's eruption 60,000 miles straight into the air this morning all flights going in and out of Anchorage are cancelled. So Pat is soon to be sitting in Seattle waiting for the flights to resume. The earliest he could possibly get on a plane is late tomorrow night. Meanwhile, I'm feeling quite sorry for myself what with the whiny sick kids and all.

The people on the Kenai and in Homer probably want to smack me about now. While I'm whining about missing my husband, they on the other hand, are covered in ash. There's nothing worse than breathing in ash and having no place to go to get away from it.

Silly volcano.

Friendship

2009-03-26T13:14:00.002-08:00

When your kid starts making their own friends it is hands-down the cutest thing in the world. Avalon has two very special girl friends at school. Peer pressure is new in our household. And I think it's affecting me more than Avalon.

On Sharing:

"Mom, Gabriella shared her lollipop with me today!"

"Wow! That was nice of her! Did you share your snack with her too?"
"I tried Mom, but she said she doesn't like sweet peppers."

Okay, so I'm that mom. But, hello, my kid LOVES sweet peppers. So the next day I decided to pack a special treat that all the little girls would love - chocolate chip granola bars and blueberries.

"How was school?"

"It was great. Olivia and Gabriella gave me a big hug AND Olivia shared her snack with me and Gabriella."

"Wow, that was nice of her. Did you share your snacks too?"

"No, Olivia had cookies so they didn't want mine."

So I'm boned. Chocolate chip granola and blueberries are the sweetest thing in this house so I might as well give up and stick to being Carrot Stick Mom.

On Giving:

Today Avalon cut out a small art project, wrapped it in a paper towel and told me it was a gift for Gabriella. She then proceeded to walk around holding it in her hand, wondering aloud where she might put it where it will be safe and when were we going to see Gabriella??!! After the 156th answer as to when we would meet up with Gabriella (the answer was 2pm, after Elsa wakes up from her nap, in case you're curious), she asked, "Do you think she'll like it Mom?" To which I replied with the very mom, "Of course, she'll love that you thought of her and made her something special." After the 171st time this question was asked I thought to myself, "Please, please let her like it!"

And after Avalon carried that precious little package all day, we arrived at the park with it in tact. As Avalon jumped out of the car the gift fell directly into a mud puddle. After a few tears the soggy piece of paper was given, and as I held my breath for the response, I was relieved to hear Gabriella exclaim, "I really like it!"

Great friends are the stuff of life!

Shouldn't evolution have taken care of this?

2009-03-26T07:19:00.005-08:00

It seems logical to me that kids should have an internal alarm that tells them when they have pushed their mom too far. Something in their head that shouts, "Um, do you see the murderous glare on mom's face? I think she's reached her limit. Don't do the next thing your thinking about doing."

It doesn't exist. That should be protective barrier between annoying the one who feeds you and absolutely pissing her off.

I am contemplating this after the absolute worst night of sleep ever. After both sick and crying and puking and snotting kids spent the night in my bed pushing me off the bed, they pick right off where they left off last night. So instead of having a mental snap before I've even had my coffee, I've decided to block them out long enough to blog about it. Thank goodness for blog therapy.

Now go call or find your mom and give her a big hug for not killing you in your sleep.

Food Allergies and Families

2009-03-17T19:40:00.002-08:00

It looks like food allergies are getting more publicity.

A new dog?

2009-03-16T15:15:00.003-08:00

Avalon is a super helpful kid. She especially loves to feed the dogs. Lately I've found that she's feeding them on time without being asked. I was putting Elsa down for her nap this afternoon when I heard Avalon dishing out the dog food. I came out to see that each dog had their prescribed amount of food, spaced well so that they can each eat and that their water had been taken down and refreshed.

"Wow, Avalon! Thanks for taking care of the dogs. You really know how to care for them and feed them well."

"Yes, and now I get my own dog."

"What?"

"Daddy said that when I learn how to take care of the dogs by myself that I can have my own new dog."

"Oh."

Pat?

Lenny's bling

2009-03-15T09:07:00.008-08:00

Avalon has reached a new peak of interest in her furry friends. After experimenting with a cat who let her maul him, dress him in baby clothes and stick a bottle in his face (thanks, Pig) she has come back to Lenny with new tricks. She's also cunning enough to know that nothing motivates Lenny better than the promise of food. Which is how I think she first convinced him to tolerate this:

By the way, Avalon made that necklace all by herself. Lenny's first friendship necklace. Awwww!

It's good to be home!

2009-03-12T08:16:00.001-08:00

We made it home! We missed Pat the most, but also our wonderful friends, roads instead of freeways, snow for sledding and two furry rascals named Lenny and Liz.

Avalon misses Auntie, Jonathon and William something fierce though. It was nice to spend quality time invading their home.

Here we are on Daddycam arriving at the airport. When judging my appearance remember I just spent 4 hours on an airplane being outnumbered, climbed and trying to reason with the unreasonable. As men drinking their gin and tonic, eating their purchased food and reading their favorite books glared at me for interrupting their charmed lives I was wishing I could just fork over that $5 for booze to forget the whole thing ever happened. Yeah, that's the look I had going on. AKA the 'Frazzled Mom Look'. I think they did a whole series on this look on What Not to Wear or the the more aptly named, Who Not to Be.

An opinion on the matter

2009-03-11T21:00:00.000-08:00

Aunt Paula thoughtfully sent me this in answer to my previous post:

A heady topic

2009-03-11T12:08:00.003-08:00

I haven't blogged about religion too much, because it is so so so charged in our society. But now I need advise. I am looking for opinions from those of you who are religious and specifically those who have been missionaries.

Pat and I are not religious. We're pretty much in the -we don't know, you don't know, it's okay that we all don't know, let's just keep learning- camp. Some call it agnostic, some atheist. I don't even care what it's called.

The other day we had two LDS missionaries knock on our door. Pat talked with them, got directions to their church and brought the piece of paper back in to put on the fridge. He LOVES talking with missionaries, or people for that matter, of every kind. That's kind of how he explored religion - by talking to the people, while I've always taken a more academic approach via religion classes and such.

Last night the missionaries returned at dinner time, so Pat asked them to come back Friday at a particular time.

And this is when I said, "Wait! What are you doing?" And here's why I said this:

We are not going to be converts. I know this, he knows this, but the missionaries do not. They are in their part of life where their goal is to convert people, right? Wouldn't it be a colossal waste of their time to talk with us when it will not lead to conversion?

Pat just wants to meet people in the area with good family and moral values. But I view it as wasting the missionaries time - they don't live here and they are, well, on a mission. If I were to meet a mom at a playgroup who's values I respected that would be one thing, but this seems intrusive into a religion we will never be part of.

Okay, so there it is. If you have insight into this I want to hear it. Nothing negative or derogatory towards others' belief systems please.

Ever say something REALLY dumb?

2009-02-27T07:01:00.005-09:00

I'm going to admit right here and right now that since we've been away from home surrounded by kids I have succumbed to issuing idle threats. That's not my usual mode of parenting, but when you're too tired to be creative that's what you get. One can definitely go too far down that road.

"Avalon, stop eating your boogers (for the millionth time). It's gross and bad for your body."

Two seconds later:

"Avalon, did you just eat another booger??!!! Obviously you don't care about your health or you would stop putting waste back into your body. If you keep eating them I'm gonna stop feeding you healthy food and giving you your medicine, because if you don't care if your healthy, maybe I'll stop caring too!"

Amber, in the background is rolling around with laughter. "Did you just threaten to stop feeding her if she eats another booger?" Ha ha ha!

"Yes, yes I did."

Diaper expert

2009-02-23T12:06:00.006-09:00

Elsa is a tricky booger when it comes to diaper changes. She tells me when she needs one but the moment I sit down to change her she runs away. The other day on a whim I asked Elsa if she would let Avalon change her and, holy cow, that was the most ingenious suggestion I've ever made!

For Avalon, Elsa will hand her the diaper and wipes, lay down and wait patiently for Avalon to change her. And Avalon is so careful and thorough that she puts me to shame. Elsa giggles the whole time and Avalon coos at her. It's precious.*

Except...

Now Elsa won't let me change her. She insists on Avalon changing her, shoving her diaper in poor Avi's face. Avalon has become the drafted diaper changer. Maybe that will give her incentive to teach Elsa to use the potty with consistency. ;-)

Time shall tell if this is the most brilliant potty training trick ever.

*Before you question my sanity too much - I only let her change the wet ones.

The wrong side of the crib

2009-02-23T07:45:00.002-09:00

I remember when Avalon was two wondering what the heck people were thinking with the whole 'terrible two' thing. She didn't come into stride with testing limits until three.

Now I know what they meant. Elsa is in her terrible first two years and her 'tude is just getting more and more ramped up. After one night without enough sleep to keep her obnoxiousness in check (her sister woke her up at 3am with an ear infection), here is a rundown of our morning so far:

First, Elsa took the fruit right out of Jonathon's hand which Jonathon graciously ignored. Then she tried to take his toy and when she was unsuccessful she started smacking him in the head and screaming. When I pulled her away from giving her cousin a black eye she immediately threw herself to the floor for a full fledged temper tantrum complete with flailing limbs and screeches.

After that ordeal subsided she decided to go after Avalon, who, did I mention, is a little sensitive what with the untreated ear infection and all. I heard Avalon scream to find Elsa had her cornered by the baby gate and was hitting, biting and pulling hair trying to get the toy from Avalon. After removing her and for the umpteenth time talking about how hurting others is the worst thing you can do and that we don't hurt people, she calmed from her tantrum enough to eat.

She came over to me with a bag of dried apples and asked that I open them. "I will open this bag if you share them with Avalon and Jonathon. Will you share the apples?" I got a very solemn head nod in the affirmative. As soon as I handed the bag to her, she looked around like a quarterback with the football, shouted "MINE!" and ran down the hall to her room. Flailing, screaming tantrum ensued after I took the bag from her hand.

Later I put her in her high chair after she ate some fresh apples and bananas, giving her some rice pasta and soy milk. After picking up the soy milk she promptly threw I watched her eat three pieces of pasta. Then she said banana! (which actually sounds like "blablabla!"). "No more banana Elsa, but you can have rice pasta." At which point she aimed the pasta straight at my head. Removal from the scene, tantrum.

It's now 8:30am.

Pictures with our cousins!

2009-02-17T06:55:00.001-09:00

Check out all the pictures we managed to take despite the craziness.

Habla espanol?

2009-02-16T18:58:00.003-09:00

While we're away from home Avalon is missing her precious escuela. So I try to incorporate a little Spanish into our day. Jonathon is picking up some Spanish along the way.

Me: "Hasta manana, mijos."
Avalon: "Hasta manana!"
Jonathon: "Hasta banana!"

Tonight Avalon was pretending that storytime was school time.

Me: "Kids, say 'Gracias, Maestra Mimi'."
Avalon: "Gracias Maestra."
Jonathon: "Gracias, Mashed Panini."

I'm sure we're in for more Foodish too, as Jonathon is quite the jokester, loving to get his crowd laughing. We were all rather unsuccessful at keeping the laughter to a minimum.

The three hour nap

2009-02-16T12:06:00.005-09:00

Elsa does not sleep like a baby. Okay, she sleeps exactly like a baby - that's means not much and not well.

Typically we can eek a 1/2-1 hour nap out of her a day. After waking up cranky at 5am, which is her new way since we've been away from home, yet refusing to go back to sleep she allowed me to put her down for a nap at 9am. After running to Starbucks (hey, it IS a local coffee shop here in Seattle), helping Amber finish the painting project and helping to start the birthday cake for Jonathon it occured to me that Elsa had been asleep for two whole hours.

I start thinking I should totally have taken a nap! But surely she's going to wake up any second. Then I lay down to ensure she will wake up any second, but lo and behold, I got to lay down for a whole half an hour! At which point I started worrying that maybe Elsa's no longer breathing. I mean for Elsa to be that quiet for that long surely she must be incapacitated.

My mom who is even more paranoid than I jumped at the chance to check on her.

And what did she find???

Elsa playing happily on the floor by the door. Awww, doesn't that sound quaint?

NO

That means Elsa can now crawl out of the crib.

Seriously folks, Avalon never got out of the crib. I had to kick her out at 2 1/2 to make room for Elsa. What am I to do??? Put crazy, daredevil, 17 month old Elsa in **gasp** A BIG GIRL BED?

Paradoxical Valentine's Day

2009-02-14T20:06:00.000-09:00

Almost every moment of every day, including right now while I'm typing this my senses are being bombarded by kids climbing me whilst talking to me and getting into things they should not be into.

I have become Mt. Mommy. My body is constantly being pinched, squeezed, stepped on and abused. I never sit down or worse, lie down, because as soon as by bottom hits the seat the kids stop climbing just my leg and decide that my legs are bridges to my lap which is the flat area you rest on the way to the summit that is my head. And if I lie down I am the perfect trampoline. By the time the day is over I jump out of my skin at the idea of being touched in any way.

Then there is the constant bombardment of words, non-words, screams, grunts, clangs, electronic toys and barking. This is the constant backdrop of my day that I find it difficult to be coherent in my own head. By the time the day is over I can't imagine being spoken to or listening to anything. I often bury myself in a book.

And I'll leave to your imagination the smells, lack of ability to taste with all the distractions, and the sights of a house turned upside down.

Total sensory overload.

So, this year I spent Valentine's Day completely and utterly alone. It was AMAZING!

Don't get me wrong - I love and miss my husband like crazy. I wish he were with me more than anything in the world.

But you can imagine how often I get to think about how much I love him with my lack of 'alone' time in my own head. Being away from home has made me appreciate the little niche we've carved out for our family and how well we all work together. And it has made me miss him like crazy.

Walking along the streets of Seattle alone, I found myself thinking about why Pat is my favorite person in the whole world and why I love him so much. I wasn't sad watching all the love birds walking around town, but excited that I've already found him and that here we are at 7 years of marriage still sickeningly (to other people) in love with each other, totally into our life and missing each other like crazy.

Happy Valentine's Day! I love you Pat!