the things we said.

We don't play trains naked.
I have to climb in the dryer.
I love you, sweetgirl.
I love you, sweetmommy.

there is never enough time to stare.

A friend told me that the permanence of parenthood scared her. You get to choose your spouse but not your kids. How can I explain that loving these two has been the easiest thing I have ever done? It's not unlike loving yourself. It just comes. Even when he's fussy. Even when they are sick and smelly and feverish. It just comes. I delight in them. The work of motherhood is hard but the motivation, the love, that part is easy.

how to charm me.

I once read an interview of Gwyneth Paltrow where she talked about how her dad took her to Paris when she was a teenager so that she'd always know that the first time she went there it was with a man who really loved her. Which, cute. But also? Am I the only one who wouldn't have wanted to go to the grocery store with my dad as a teenager, let alone the international city of love?

I call you on my way home from Costco and describe taking a certain 3 year old into the bathroom there so she can do her business. I describe the animated verbal play-by-play she provided while having diarrhea. Meanwhile, patrons exit as quickly as possible, stifling laughs. I remind you that she knows all of the correct words to describe the situation more than adequately.

That night, you bring flowers. She sees them and tells me that you brought them for me. You correct her. They are for her, because she had a poopy day.

I swoon.

playdate aftermath.

Katie and the boys came down and the kids wanted us to trace their bodies all over my backyard. It looks like a kiddie-crime scene. The sun made an appearance. The kids didn't kill each other. And the girlie decided that a nap made sense today. Hooray for miracles!

35

Dear Claire,
Next month you turn three. One of the most amazing things over the past few months has been watching you develop reason. You have to remember that I knew you before you could talk, before you realized the benefits of peeing in the potty, before you were here. When you decided to stop napping last month, you and The Dada had a little chat about how your body needs a nap. Later, we asked you what your body was telling you. Your answer, "My body wants to go nigh-night...but I say, wake up, body, let's read books!"

One feature of motherhood that I could do without is the sense of guilt that somewhere, someone is always disappointed in the job that I'm doing. I worry about your brother feeling left out and I worry about you feeling neglected. I try to compensate by taking you for little outings with just me. Saturday, we headed to "that train mall" to look at the puppies. On the way there I said, "Isn't this great, just two girls going together?" And your answer, "I miss Everett."

He also makes an excellent horse. Maybe my worry is for nothing.
Love you, girlie.
Mama

i may have run out of cute stories.

The last few weeks, I've been frustrated. Bitter. Tired. Claire resumed her nap strike, Everett started cutting teeth (5, in case anyone is counting), which for him involves long nights curled in my lap. And Nate has been annoying me by doing super-annoying things like leaving the house to go to work and breathing.

I can manage a few nights without sleep, but it doesn't take long for me to resent my kids for infringing on my time. Do you ever read something and you're like, "Dude, me too!" Steph's great post made me realize that staying quiet hasn't helped. I have not been easy to live with, I am tired and for me postpartum depression seems to magically hit between months 5-6.

I have a lot to learn from this guy. He cut five teeth last week and still manages to wake up happy and smiles ALL THE TIME.

blogger girl.

While feeding the baby sweet potatoes, your toddler comes running, plastic camera in hand, "Mom, we need to get your camera!"

bathing beauties.

One wouldn't think bathing in a kitchen sink would bring this much joy to an almost three year old.

Also, red box directly behind Claire's head= ant poison. Stellar parenting.
They are each the favorite to the other. And so far, they are always thrilled with the other's presence. It is a precious time. I know it can't last.

wherein i gush.

I wore a pretty fancy outfit by my standards yesterday. Flats instead of sneakers. A dress over my jeans. Sparkly ring that had belonged to my grandma (thanks, Mom). Pearls, even. Walking through Costco, Claire pokes me in the stomach and says, "You cute, Mama." Funny to me that she noticed.

But that is how you are, you notice everything. I want to remember the pages and pages of sea forces (sea horses) and boa 'strictors you draw. How you are a big kid, but you still want to be rocked sometimes. I want to remember teaching you to be gracious when someone else wins at Candy Land. And the smell of your little girl neck. Running on tiptoe. I want to remember your made-up words, how Everett gets a million nicknames a day, but mostly he is your "little Everett Peep."

And you, always and forever are the girl I call Pooper.

driver's ed.

You're pulling out of Chevron, seeking coffee, answering the usual questions.
Where we going, Mama?
What we doing, Mama?
I'm shirsty, can I have a drink?
Where we going, Mama?

Seconds later, she's asking a whole new set of questions.
Why we stop, Mama?
What you do, Mama?
His car make my ears loud, Mama.

If you decide to go and get yourself a traffic ticket, you might want to do it while the kids are visiting the grandparents.

What seems to be the problem, Officer?