Quigley and Fred

Earlier this week, at the beginning of my solo parenting gig, I told the big girls that if they were helpful and extra good this week, I’d get them pet hermit crabs. We all mostly survived the week, and the girls were mostly good, so we trekked to the pet store yesterday and picked out our new family members.

Introducing

Quigley – he is Ella’s crab. She looks unhappy in the picture because she was convinced he was going to pinch her.

 

And Fred – Lily’s crab. Lily, my animal lover, desperately wants to hug him, and squeeze him and call him George, but Fred isn’t cooperating. I have to stop her from opening the tank and poking Fred 20 times an hour.

Turns out hermit crabs don’t do much, at least not during the day. The sand in their tank was covered in tracks this morning, so they apparently explored every nook and cranny during the night.

My idea, which wasn’t a brilliant one as it turns out, was that the kids would SHARE the hermit crabs. But since Ella and Lily have each claimed and named a crab, Campbell wants one, too. So I’ll be going back to the pet store for the 4th time – if I include the 2 trips it took to get the hermit crabs for Campbell’s class, which I do – in seven days. I don’t think I went to the pet store four times in the entire 13 years we had a dog.

My next goal is to find a permanent place in the house for Quigley and Fred. Right now they’re in the living room on a table, entirely too close to Elizabeth’s little hands for my comfort. Each time one of the big kids climbs on the arm of the sofa to check on the crabs, she’s right there behind them. I’m afraid I’m going to walk in the living room and find Elizabeth with a crab in her mouth.

B’s suggestion was that now that we can’t hold getting crabs out as a bribe, we can threaten to have a crab boil if the girls don’t behave. I knew I married him for a reason.

Being Marilla*

Yesterday I sent an e-mail to my sister and my mom about Lily’s being excited about the wheelchair she saw in the American Girl Doll catalog. Lily already has the first-aid kit for dolls, complete with crutches and a cast, and now she wants the wheelchair. My sister sent this in response:

i feel like you have anne of green gables for a daughter, and sometimes you're very marilla about it.

At first I spluttered in righteous indignation, wounded to the very depths of my soul, as Anne would say.  I am NOT Marilla, not at all. I read and re-read the Anne of Green Gables books over and over again. I wanted desperately to be Anne. I wanted to be tall and willowy. I wanted red hair (still do). I loved that I had green-gray eyes like Anne. I loved that I had freckles. I loved Anne’s independence and spirit of adventure and imagination.

How could I possibly be like calm, practical Marilla?

But the more I thought about it yesterday, I realized that what I loved so much about Anne were the qualities she had but I didn’t. I had a great imagination, but I never shared it with anyone. I never wanted to go on great adventures, preferring instead to read about them. I never took dares or broke rules. Unlike Anne, I would have never walked the ridge pole on a dare or cracked a slate over Gilbert’s head.

Lily, on the other hand, really is like Anne. She has a wonderful imagination and regularly involves her friends in her play acting and dramas. She is always up for an adventure. Like Anne, Lily can go from the depths of broken-hearted despair over an incident to the highest of highs over an accomplishment or treat. Puffy sleeves would send her over the moon with joy. All of these things are what make Lily Lily and are what make me love her so much.

So here I am, Marilla to Lily’s Anne.

And like Marilla, I’m going to love Lily with all my heart and do my best to keep her on track without squelching the very things that make her so wonderful. As long as she doesn’t break a slate over some boy’s head.

*This post will really only make sense if you’ve read Anne of Green Gables. If you haven’t, I highly recommend it.

Happy Birthday Knittergran, Part III

This is the silly version. The kids laughed as much watching it as they did making it. And they are begging to watch it over and over again.

Cleaning Out

Yesterday morning I watched two episodes of "Hoarders" and promptly went on a cleaning spree in my kids' rooms. I cleaned out and organized both closets, which are now things of beauty. Unfortunately, the closets won't look neat for long. But I'm enjoying it while I can.

Among the assorted Legos, Lincoln Logs, and Little People toys I found:

My copy of Brideshead Revisited

13 socks

Two shoes, not from the same pair

6 empty cereal boxes pilfered from the recycling bin for future "art" projects

Four American Girl Doll outfits

5 pairs of underpants

One torn Twister mat

Pieces to three different puzzles

One pair of LL Bean Moose slippers that Campbell now refuses to take off

One Percy

One Rhenaus

One Thomas

and

FIVE bags of trash.

Seriously - I took five bags of trash out of two closets and one toy box. I was ruthless in what I threw out - puzzles with missing pieces, games with missing boxes, Ella's collection of poker chips, precious artwork, wrapping paper, homework from last year, and lots and lots of wadded up paper.

It was such a cathartic exercise. I actually enjoyed sitting on the floor and sorting all the blocks, Legos, train tracks, Little People, and GeoTrax into their proper bins and then storing everything neatly on the shelves.

I even cleaned out enough stuff that I was able to move the basket of Elizabeth's toys from the living room to the toy box. B did a happy dance when he saw that the toy corner had been cleaned out.

When the big girls got home, I showed them the improved closets and pleaded with them to keep everything neat for at least a few days. Ella rolled her eyes and immediately began checking for her treasures. Lily shrieked with delight at all the "missing" dress-up clothes that I had located and returned to the dress-up basket.

Next I'll tackle the mess that is their desk. But I need to wait until after trash collection day - our garbage can and recycling bin are filled to the brim.

Flibbertygibbit

I just do not know what I am going to do with this girl. If she gets much flightier, she's likely to forget her own name.

I've joked for a while now that Lily lives in her own little world, and I often ask her what color the sky is where she is. She usually just laughs and continues with her twirling.

But her spacey-ness has reached new heights, or lows, as the case may be.

The other day I sent her out to the car with very specific instructions: "Lily, in the red car, in the front passenger seat, on the floor, is a box of Sprite. Please go get it. Remember - red car, front seat, floor, Sprite." Easy peasy.

Except she came in five minutes later with a big smile and an empty box of baby wipes and said, "This is what you wanted, right?" When I reminded her that I wanted Sprites, she giggled and said that wipes and Sprites kind of sounded alike.

I sent her back out, again saying, "Red car, front seat, floor, Sprite." When she hadn't returned after five minutes, I poked my head out and found her sitting in the front seat, pretending to drive, carrying on a conversation with imaginary passengers. I called her name, and she jumped a foot in the air out of surprise.

This kind of thing happens with her ALL the time. I'll send her back to take a shower, and she'll forget to wash her hair and body, which means she has to take a second shower. I'll hand her something to put away and find the object abandoned in the hallway. She'll tell me she can't find a crucial item, like her backpack, and I'll look up to see her standing right next to it, oblivious to its presence. She'll trip over her own shoes and claim she doesn't know where they are.

It's a good thing she's such a happy, twirly girl. Otherwise she might drive me insane.

Obligatory First Day of School Post

The kids started back to school this week, and all the baby angels sang Hallelujah. I wasn't at all weepy about sending the big girls to school. I've had just about as much as I can take of the bicker twins lately. Being around other kids at school will be good for them.

Ella is in 4th grade, which doesn't seem possible. I remember being in 4th grade. I met my bestest friend in 4th grade. I'm still friends with kids from 4th grade. How did she get so old? Ella picked out her outfit and was quite pleased when I told her none of it matched. She especially loves her new Converse All-Stars.

Lily is in 2nd grade. She, of course, had to pick out a dress for the first day. And I have to admit, she looked darn cute in it. Her teacher is one of the best at the school, and we're thrilled she has him. Lily cracked me up when we were walking through the halls on the first day. She was like the little mayor of the school, saying hi to and chatting up everyone she saw. She is definitely my little social butterfly.

Campbell now goes to preschool five mornings a week, thank the baby jeebus. He needs more activities and stimulation that I can give him. He insisted on wearing his new sunglasses to school. We've started calling him The Dude. And he does indeed abide.

And finally, mah baybee. Elizabeth started a mother's day out program and goes to school Tuesday and Thursday mornings. She has the same divine teacher all of the other kids have had, which made dropping her off much easier. I was able to hand Elizabeth off to Miss Katherine and leave, knowing that she was in the best possible care.

But I was still a little weepy when I left - my last baby has started school. Before I know it, she'll be in college.

Sob.

I think we need a dog

Our neighbors just adopted a 9 month old puppy, and I think my girls are as excited about Jake's arrival as his owners are. My big girls and the kids next door have been talking lots about dog training and what they are going to teach Jake to do.

But my girls' enthusiasm for dog training has taken a worrisome turn. They've decided to train Elizabeth like she's a puppy.

Yesterday I caught Ella teaching Elizabeth to sit and stay and then rewarding her by popping pieces of cookies in Elizabeth's open mouth. Ella and Lily have done such a good job that Elizabeth now responds to hand signals for lie down and twirl.

The girls have asked for their own puppy, but B and I have told them that we cannot possibly bring another living thing into this house because there is simply not enough room.

But if they keep up the puppy training with Elizabeth, I may change my mind.

*****

And speaking of cute animals, go check out knittergran's adorable new kitten Baxter.

Bowling with Lily

I've been looking for some ways to spend some one-on-one time with Lily ever since I got home from four days in Colorado with Ella. While I was gone, Lily came up with an illustrated list of things for us to do together. The list included swimming, horse-back riding, going to a farm, and going to the movies.

On Wednesday, she and I did something that wasn't on her list - we went bowling. Before we left, I asked her if she'd ever bowled before, and she said, "Yes! Wii bowling at E's house!" I laughed and then explained that Wii bowling doesn't count.

Turns out Lily loves bowling and is pretty good at it. She beat me soundly - twice.

Each time she bowled, she'd do a funny little shimmy while waiting for the ball to roll down the lane. And when the pins fell, she'd hop up and down and spin.

It was a nice hour with my girl.

The Bicker Twins

I've had a packed week of blogging, so just a short note today to point you to Deep South Moms, where I have a post up about my daughters and their relationship. Please go take a look.

All Abot Davy Crockt, By Lily G

Lily brought home the report she did on Davy Crockett, and it's too funny and cute not to share. Pictures and text by Lily, sic all. My comments are in ital.

Davy Crockett fought at the Battle of the Alamo

(don't you just love the big smiley face as he shoots someone?)

He had a wife. She got sick and she died. He got another wife.

(Good to know the first wife was so easily replaceable. I love the Xs on the dead wife's eyes)

In the Battle of the Alamo the Mexicans won. Davy Crockett died in the battle of the Alamo

(That's poor old Davy there on the bottom in brown. He has a sword sticking out of him. One of the Texians is saying "Curse you!" The Mexican soldiers are cheering.)

He was a hero because he protected his men.

(I'm guessing that's Davy up in the dream bubble with a coonskin hat on.)

Mother's Day Poetry Slam

On Thursday, Lily's class had a Mother's Day Poetry Slam. For extra authenticity, it was held at a neighborhood coffee shop - we ran out all the 20-year-old tattooed hipsters. The poems were all very sweet and often very funny.

One boy's poem thanked his mom for taking care of him at the grocery store. Several kids included the word "texting" when describing their moms, which got a good laugh.

Mom, by Lily

You're sweet

You're kind

You're lovable

You're nice

You're my mom and I love you

After each child read a poem, they presented their moms with a flower. I popped mine in my pigtail and forgot about it, which meant I wore it to a work meeting that afternoon. Whoops.

Happy Mother's Day to all my mom friends. May your day be filled with lovely poems, mangled flowers and lots of hugs and kisses.

Haikus by the big girls

The other night had the potential to be a bad one. I was worn out, and B had to go meet some clients. Instead, we had a great evening. Elizabeth went to bed without a problem, and the big girls kept Campbell entertained in the back for an hour while I folded laundry and pulled myself together.

Once Campbell went to bed, the girls continued to play quietly in my bedroom, making words out of Bananagram tiles and writing haikus. When it was time for them to go to bed, they brought out their work, complete with illustrations.

Lily only wrote one, but I can tell from her rough draft that it was quite an effort. She's still new to the whole concept of syllables.

I live in a rock
I sleep in a quite large sock
Please bring me some food

Ella's were more elaborate, and each had a title.

Waves
Rolling on the beach
Green as grass, blue as the sky
As calm waves go by

Hide and Seek
I constantly hide
You have to come and find me
This is hide and seek

Book
I illustrated
a picture of a butterfly
He wrote the story

Something
Refrigerator
Bicycle pump with blue wheels
Big, loud cannon ball

I love that the girls are content to work together and write little books and that Ella did such a good job of helping Lily with her haiku.

*blogger spellcheck is insisting that the plural of haiku is haiku's. I don't think so.

Threats, Bribes and Bluebonnets

It's a rite of spring in Central Texas to plop your kids in one of the many fields of wildflowers that line the sides of the roads and take their pictures. Of course, most families do their photo shoots Easter weekend and dress their kids in beautiful, matching spring outfits.

I haven't managed to get bluebonnet pictures of the kids since we added Campbell and Elizabeth to the family, so I was bound and determined to get photos this year. Of course, I didn't manage to do it Easter weekend, so yesterday I decided it was time to get it over with. I promised the big girls dinner from P. Terry's if they cooperated, and it turns out, the girls will do just about anything for P. Terry's.

I didn't even try to get the kids into matching outfits and instead opted for whatever I could convince them to put on. Campbell and Elizabeth were easy, since they didn't much care. But it took some convincing to get Ella to put on a dress. We ended up working out a compromise that involved a dress AND shorts. And when Lily pulled out her winter boots to wear with her spring dress, I decided not to argue. I didn't want her eyes all puffy and red from the sobbing that would surely ensue if I made her change shoes.

And off we went.

I took a few of all four kids but gave up on my goal of getting one good picture of all of them. Campbell wouldn't take his hands away from his eyes, and I couldn't get Lily to keep looking at the camera.

Campbell took off to run up and down the hill almost immediately, so I took some of the girls together. It didn't last long, though. Elizabeth didn't like being in the flowers and grass, and Lily started sobbing that a thorn was poking her bottom. So I set them all loose to just run around, and I took pictures while they did it.
Campbell had the best time running up and down the hill. He only fell a few times and popped up laughing every time he did. He liked exploring the paths that other people had already trampled in the field.

Ella mostly just wandered around looking at the flowers. The shorts with the dress are just so lovely. Sigh.

Lily, of course, twirled and twirled in the flowers are she ran around. The girl was just meant to pose for pictures in fields of flowers.

Maybe next year I'll get one good photo of all four. But I doubt it.

No pictures

We had an explosion of cuteness in the kitchen the other night. The big girls, instead of cleaning up the kitchen, were playing Ring Around the Rosy with Campbell. Elizabeth heard the commotion and went zipping into the kitchen. She stood on the side for a moment, watching the big kids, and then started twirling in circles and falling down.

The big girls grabbed Elizabeth's hands and included her in the fun. And that's when things got really, squee-ably cute. Elizabeth loved shouting "Down" even if it wasn't the right time. And every time she did, the big three would fall down with her, all of them giggling their heads off.

My immediate impulse was to run and grab my camera. But then I stopped myself. No picture would be able to accurately portray the fun and laughter. So I decided to just sit and watch the show. The memories will last longer than any picture ever could.

The Swamp

We have a small pond in our backyard, installed by the people who owned the house before us. I love having it; it sits right outside our bedroom window, and when the windows are open, the sound of the trickling water is very calming.

We take care of the pond the same way we do most of our yard - benign neglect. It's been an embarrassingly long time since I've cleaned it out. So Saturday afternoon, while hanging out in the back yard with the kids, I decided to clean out the pond's filter. If I had known then what I was getting myself into, I would never have started.

It turns out that the filter was completely overgrown and connected to all the other plants by a thick matting of roots. In fact, the whole bottom of the pond was one 6-inch-thick mat of roots and gack and slime.


After 30 minutes of fruitlessly trying to pull everything out, I came to the conclusion that it was time to put on my rain boots and wade on in. I ended up having to hack the mass into pieces with a spade and then wrestle it all out.

This about half of what I pulled out of the pond. It stank of rotting material and will probably be a good addition to our compost heap. Except I didn't realize until I had loaded all of this in the wheelbarrow that the front tire was flat. Fixing it would have meant pulling everything back out again, so it's still sitting on the walk in the back yard.

All of the kids were fascinated with this project. The took great interest in the bugs and slime that I pulled out. But they were terribly upset every time they thought I might have skimmed a minnow out along with the slime. So I gave the girls the job of skimming and saving the fish.

When B got home from work, he joined in the fun and climbing on in the pond, too. He's wearing my big plaid boots, but I think he'd kill me if I posted a picture of him modelling them. He took apart the pump, cleaned it, and installed new filtering material. Ella supervised his work to make sure he didn't accidentally scoop out any fish or slimy critters.

Of course, we had to go to a pond and garden store to buy new filtering material, and that turned into an expensive trip when you add up the plants and mulch we bought, too.

A mere 7 hours after I started, the pond was finally re-filled with a clean bottom, a functioning pump, and re-potted water plants - and lots of very happy minnows.

Lily at ballet

One of things I love about Ballet Austin, where Lily has taken dance class for the past three years, is that they don't have recitals. Instead, parents, siblings, grandparents and other friends are invited to attend class several times a year.

This past Saturday was watching day, so Elizabeth and I sat in on the class. Unfortunately, we didn't last very long because Elizabeth wanted nothing more than to run out on the dance floor Lily. I ended up taking her out into the hall and watching through the glass door.

We weren't allowed to take pictures during the class, so we had to be satisfied with getting some photos of curtsies afterwards. Lily loves to curtsy - she takes it very seriously as you can see by her expression.

Elizabeth was so happy to be allowed back in the room that she ran to Lily. Such sweet sisters.

Where did we go wrong?

Growing up, my sister and I never played in our parents' bedroom. It was off limits to us, not so much because we were forbidden to go in, but more because we were never invited to play in there.

Somewhere along the line with my kids, I've gone wrong. I don't remember giving my kids permission to play in my room, but they seem to have taken it over completely. My bedside table is stacked with their books, and the floor is littered with toys of various kinds. If I don't do a quick clean-up before bed, I'm in danger of injuring my feet on legos and Little People if I get up in the middle of the night.

Sunday morning, I stripped all the sheets off my bed, put them in the wash, and grabbed clean sheets from the closet. In that amount of time, this collection appeared on my bed.

I don't know how Lily and Campbell managed to set these critters up so quickly, but there they were. And when I asked the kids to move the menagerie so that I could put sheets on the bed, they told me I had to wait because they were going to the moon to have a party. Lily was already dressed in a party ensemble, complete with lacy socks and dressy shoes. Campbell was in underpants and a t-shirt. They have very different ideas of what constitutes formal attire.

So I let them have their "Moon Party" and waited until later to put sheets on the bed.

The Ballerina Basher

Lily's birthday was a few weeks ago, and we had a roller skating party for her. The kids all had a grand time, and I was impressed with how well they did on skates. For some, it was their first time on wheels.

Ella was ready to skate first, but she decided to wait for company before hitting the rink. She was a little unsteady at the start but improved greatly at the end of the hour of skating.

B's mom and aunt decided to put skates on Elizabeth. They got the smallest pair the place had and laced them up. Elizabeth had a blast and did two laps around the rink. By the end of her first lap, she was getting frustrated with her grandmother and aunt for holding her hands because she wanted to take off all by herself. She's showing a streak of stubborn independence that's worrying me a bit.

When a friend heard about the skating party, she started coming up with Roller Derby names for Lily. Her suggestions were Lightning Lil and Ballerina Bomber. I said I liked Ballerina Basher better because it sounds a bit more violent. I can just picture Lily out on the derby track - pink tights, a tutu, a black helmet with a skull and crossbones.

The roller rink had a poster advertising a junior Roller Derby team. Perhaps I should sign Lily up. She's already got a good name for it.

Lily the big girl

This is one of those posts that has been whirling around in my brain at 3:00 am and that I haven't been able to put down quite the way I want to. Right now, you're reading my third and final (fingers crossed) attempt.

Even though Lily is almost five, I still think of her as my baby girl. Ella, by virtue of being my first, has just always seemed so big to me. That and she was born older and wiser than her years. But Lily, she's been my baby girl from the begining. She still even looks a bit like her baby self - with big pink cheeks and chubby fingers, even though she's stretching out in height.

It ocurred to me about a month ago that she really will be heading off to kindergarten in the fall, and it just doesn't seem possible. She can't be old enough to go. I must have looked dumbfounded in the hall at school when one of the teachers asked if Lily would be starting school in the fall. My jaw literally dropped as the realization hit. This spring we'll be going through kindergarten round-up, and next fall she'll be off to school all day every day.

Realizing this made me a little weepy. Lily has always been my little buddy, my grocery store and errands pal. I spend more one-on-one time with her than I do Ella just because of her schedule. We have an hour after Ella goes to school in the morning and an hour before Ella gets home in the afternoon. That's my time with Lily, and in August it will be gone.

At the same time I'm being weepy, I'm also realizing that Lily really isn't a baby - she's quite the big girl now. She has her own little life away from me at school, and today she had her first after-school playdate at a friend's house. Granted, I had to pick her up early because she suddenly got very sad and missed me, but still, it was a big step for both of us.

So I need to let go of the baby and recognize the big girl who has replaced her. As soon as she wakes up from her nap.

What the f#*$ were you thinking?

That's what I wanted to ask Lily today - several times. Except I wouldn't have used silly symbols, I would have used the bleepable word. I don't know what got into her today - the excitement of starting in a new classroom at preschool? The sheer exhaustion left from a busy trip to the beach? Whatever it was, she was in rare form.

I turned my back on her this afternoon to leave the room, and she pegged me, from two feet away, in the center of my back with a hard rubber ball. I was so shocked that it took a minute to register what had happened. I whipped around and grabbed the ball, sputtering "What made you think that was a good thing to do???" After the fact, I was proud that I hadn't dropped the f-bomb, since that was my first instinct. She shrugged and asked for the ball back, breaking into quite fake tears when I told her I was putting it in time out.

Then, after dinner, she came dancing and twirling back into the kitchen and slapped Campbell, who was still in his high chair, upside the back of his head. He was so surprised that his jaw dropped and food fell out of his mouth. Again, I refrained from cursing and sent Lily to time out. Ella, Campbell and I were treated to 12 courses of "Time out is so boring. Time out is no fun" until I reminded Lily that I couldn't start the time-out timer until she was quiet.

Honestly, sometimes I don't know how someone with such a sweet little face and such huge blue eyes can be such a pill. We used to call her the "Angel Baby," but it seems the Angel Baby has left the building.