Coming Soon.....

We are nearing the end of summer, folks, and you know what that means? My self-imposed hiatus from the world of blogging is also winding down. The new season of the smash hit, Around the Block, with it's cult-like following, promises more thrills, spills, tears and laughter. At once introspective and entertaining, Around the Block treats its 7 fans to a glimpse inside the ordinary life of an ordinary woman in an ordinary world. Her trusty side-kicks provide unexpected comic relief, while her partner-in-crime dispenses timely travel and political advice while inviting the reader to keep a dictionary handy. Need a preview to keep you going until the season is in full swing? Here it is:

In the wee, small hours of the morning, when the whole, wide world is fast asleep, I lie awake*....and wish Annie would stop calling out for me! But I realize, with knowledge acquired through trial and error, that unless I throw back the covers and drag myself out of bed and stumble into Annie's room, the solace I seek on my pillow will not be found. So I do what any other desperate-for-stillness-and-its-blessed-companion-silence mother does: I drag myself across the hall to said room of said child.

me: Annie, what do you need?

Annie: My tummy is hungry. Is it morning time?

me: No, Annie, it's not. Tell your tummy it has to wait until breakfast. See, it's still dark outside. The sun isn't even awake yet. Just go back to sleep. Morning won't come unless you go back to sleep.

Annie, saying calmly: The sun won't wake up in the morning until I am fast asleep.

(I was tempted here. Really tempted. It would be have been so easy to build off of Annie's assumption and run with it - all the way back to my cozy bed. But Ryan, uh, discourages me from telling our kids little white lies - even if  the lie will  take care of the immediate (and perhaps future) issues as well.)
me, struggling against the lure of Annie's conjecture: Uh, it'll just take forever.

Annie: It will? You mean the sun just won't get up in the morning if I don't go back to sleep? The sun doesn't wake up if kids don't go back to sleep?

me: Well, it'll feel like forever. Um, time just passes faster if you're asleep. Sooo, you'd better go back to sleep....so morning can come sooner. (Was that a lie? I mean, time really does seem to go in slow-motion when it's the middle of the night and you should be sleeping, right?)

There was a slight pause, then the conversation, as well as Annie's urge to get up, was laid to rest (no pun intended) with her conclusion, delivered very matter-of-factly:

"The sun will not get up in the morning unless I go to sleep, because the sun doesn't wake up when it gets tired of peoples calling out for their mothers. I think so. We'll ask it in the morning. We'll just wait and see. Good night, Mummy."


In The Wee Small Hours Of  The  Morning by songwriters Bob Hilliard and David Mann

*BIG SIGH*

Annie has been....Annie lately. Very Annie. Go ahead and use your imagination, or look back at previous blog posts expounding the Annieness of our girl. In the past month, I have - on two separate occasions - made frantic calls to hairdressers in order to rectify my foolishness at leaving Annie alone with a pair of scissors. Most recently was Wednesday, when she also added to her hair cutting repertoire: she apparently has decided to become a fashion designer as well. I mean, why wear a perfectly good t-shirt when you can instead sport jagged holes and an uneven hem? At least that experiment was a hand-me-down.

A couple times in the past week or so, I've caught Annie after she's raided my jewelry box - the big give-away is the mismatched earrings dangling by her chin. Today, I walked into my bedroom to see squeezed-out tubes and bottles of facial lotions, liquid foundation and lipstick smeared on my bedspread and sheets - amazingly enough, Annie was only wearing heavy stripes of Loreal True-Match foundation in porcelain. (I guess I caught her before she'd had time to blend it all in!).

While I was cleaning up the incriminating evidence, I told Annie that she is not allowed to put on any make-up(for the zillionth time!). She said, "You mean I can't be a grown-up anymore?" "No, Annie," I replied, "You cannot be a grown-up anymore. You have to be a 7-year-old." She looked at me and said in an accusatory tone, "That makes me feel like crying."

You and me both, Kiddo. You and me, both.

Oh, For The Love Of Pete!!

Yeah. That's a pile of hair on the floor (and a snippet of red paper, too, I see.) *SIGH* And yes, it's Annie's.

And for Annie's next trick....

If They Don't Know, Can They Be Held Responsible?

It's spring break. And cloudy. And 42 degrees. But to help spring break feel like spring break, the girls are attending the annual Spring Break Nature Quest at the Schlagle branch of the library, where the focus is more on nature and the environment than on books. I'm just letting you know so you don't drive out there hoping to find a copy of Twilight - 'cause you won't!

Anyway, the spring break day-camp has become a tradition for our girls. The two-hour daily sessions are filled with activities and workshops covering a variety of subjects, from astronomy to archery. On Monday, which happened to be astronomy day, the girls made constellation guides, which required the use of scissors (definitely) and pen (apparently). When I picked the girls up that day, I immediately noticed a nice hole near the knee in Annie's purple leggings. However, it didn't look quite like the type of hole that results from scraping a knee. It's edges were a little too neat. In fact, it looked like it might have been made deliberately!

Wanting to get to the bottom of this mystery, I pointed out the incriminating hole to Annie and asked her what happened. She nonchalantly explained that she ended up with an ink mark on her legging and cut it out to get rid of the offending stain. Did she forget we have a washing machine?! This is, of course, the kid who will happily cut any paper into confetti and who is periodically reminded that she, herself, does not have a hairdresser's license therefore she is not allowed to take silver blades to her own tresses (or anyone else's) simply because it's fun, so I'm not really surprised that she chose to cut a chunk out of her own clothing. Except that she's seven! Annie, naturally, added to her explanation by saying - with reference to the adults running the program, "They don't know I'm not supposed to have scissors."

The Importance Of Being Annie

If Annie (who is very keen on a particular canine housemate) could post, I think she'd present something like this:

Do You Ever Get Tired Of The Universe?

Do you ever contemplate the unknown? When you look at the night sky and see countless stars twinkling above you, do you ponder the infinite universe? Do you ever wonder if somewhere, there's another being sitting on a grassy orb, breathing life-sustaining oxygen and wondering if you exist?

Thanks to Emi, these aren't merely questions we ruminate over on occasion. It's accepted as reality in our home that aliens do exist. In fact, they walk and talk among us. They are probably benevolent, but sometimes, given certain, er, evidence (like barbies thrown at at an older sister's head, or a secret stash of M&Ms that is suddenly not so secret and not so stashed and dabs of yellow and red and orange smearing supposedly innocent fingers (M&Ms, contrary to their jingle can, in fact, melt in your hand!), we do wonder if there might be a tiny, but not insignificant, malicious streak carried by these life forms that parade around as little sisters. (We do, after all, have laboratory proof that Annie's genetic make-up is not quite the same as the rest of us that live in the brown brick house.)

So the whole alien thing is frequently referred to (sometimes subtly, other times, not so much) when we are gathered around the kitchen table or curled up on the sofa or playing in the backyard or when we are driving in the car...., which is why it came as no surprise when, a few weeks ago, the girls and I were gazing at puffy white trails traversing a bright blue sky. Ever-curious Annie asked what they were. She disregarded my short explanation of airforce jets, instead deciding it must have been aliens. And would you, my friend, like to know why aliens raced across the sky that particular day? As Annie so blithely asserted, "Oh, they're probably tired of our universe."

It Tastes Like....Arkansas?

Guess whose mouth these words popped out of:

Dinner last night was comprised of rolls still steaming from the oven {Rhodes, of course, because when I put something in the oven, I feel like I'm actually baking (as opposed to just pulling an item out of the freezer and letting it rise for a few hours and stopping short of sliding said item in the oven at 350 degrees for 15 minutes.) And that makes me feel like I've done something I'm supposed to do for my family (which is feeding them a well-planned meal. And I did plan well - I remembered to take the rolls out of the freezer in time to eat with the meal for which they were intended!)}. And I made soup.

Really, this soup I actually made. From scratch! With chicken broth (which was not from scratch. Bullion cubes. I don't boil chicken bones. I don't even buy chicken with bones - it's boneless, skinless breasts for me!), chopped onion, diced garlic, a bit of salt and pepper, a dash of nutmeg, some milk, and fresh cauliflower. Oh, and cheese. The soup wasn't too difficult and I really needed to do something with that head of cauliflower that had been rolling around the produce drawer (nice imagery, huh.)

Apparently, when Ryan called on his way home from work and asked what we were eating for dinner (he used to ask me what I was cooking for dinner, then he realized that perhaps he was being a bit presumptuous, assuming I was making something different everyday. So one day he amended his question to asking what we were eating), I told him I was making a broccoli soup. And I guess one of my girls overheard me, because after Ryan arrived home and established that it was cauliflower, not broccoli soup, and we began eating, this child swallowed a spoonful and announced, "Yeah - it tastes like Colorado to me!"

When A Fish Is Named Salmon

We had a nice, sauteed salmon for dinner again last night, which reminded me of this unpublished entry (written on August 19th) that I intended to post about a month ago:

A few nights ago, I sauteed a nice fish for dinner. It was already filleted - no handsome head or bulging eyes or stiff tail (thank goodness!) on display, hinting at a former glory as a champion swimmer against a blasting current. It was simply a nice cut of fish prepared with a smattering of olive oil (but I don't think it was EVOO - just the regular non-extra virgin olive oil. Sorry, Rachel Ray.) After I dished a delicious-looking piece of it onto my plate, Annie's eyes opened wide as she exclaimed, "It's a dead fish!"

"Yes, it is. It's salmon," I replied. I was about to explain how tasty it was and that it was good brain food, but before I got a chance to, Annie then said, "Oh, that's his name? Salmon?" And before I could think of what to say to that statement, she rather matter-of-factly informed me "You can't pet him," and went back to eating her own meal.

Rules We Live By

There are irrefutable rules governing the universe. We all know that the law of gravity means we can toss a ball as high as possible, but it will always fall back down to the earth. Two hydrogen particles atoms combined with one oxygen particle will always form water. We observe the rising of sun every morning and its setting every night, unfailing because of the constant rotation of the earth on its axis.

Some truths you may not know include these:

1. Emi will never be a morning person.
2. Annie, yo-yoing between silence and fits of giggles while behind closed doors, guarantees the existence of a mess.
3. Add one little black dog named Cocoa to no. 2 (above) and absolute chaos ensues.

It's important for me to remember that there are some basic laws I cannot change. I must not forget these omnipresent truths, so that I will simply not open the pantry door when I think Annie might be in there (based on the evidence of peals of laughter alternating with pregnant quietus.) This way, the harmony of the universe might endure, and even coincide with my placidity, because if I just resist the impulse to twist the doorknob and let that door remain snug in its frame, I won't find globs of crunchy peanut butter pasted to the door - and matted in Cocoa's fur! At least for a few minutes longer, ubiquitous concordance will reign.

And Here's How It's Going For The Girls....

Sorry for the interruption in blogging about my Bavarian adventure, but since I got back to Utah (where the vacation started, remember) and have had to resume my mothering responsibilities, I haven't found much time - or energy, for that matter - to commandeer the keyboard. But the girls have had a marvelous time. Just ask Annie. Thanks to her, the girl cousins might get new carpet in their bedroom. And Bunky and Grandnan just might need to replace part of their kitchen floor!

Just Chill...IN!

aIt's time to share some more of the silly things that pop out of my kids' mouths (verbal, not masticated, mind you,) particularly the words that tumble (and that is an apt description) between Annie's lips, because I figure these gems won't serve any purpose sitting in a dark vault and instead should be displayed for public enjoyment.

• Cocoa (the crazy puppy who Annie refers to as "my daughter" or "my-baby-sister-that-I-love-so-much" (seriously, ask Annie how many sisters she has and she'll likely tell you, "Two" or perhaps she'll even answer "Three," if she happens to lump Tessa - our other dog - in there. Hmmm. Is that why I've noticed some speculative raised eyebrows cast in my direction lately?) can be a little....rambunctious. Okay, a lot rambunctious. While Cocoa was running and jumping and spinning and slobbering yesterday, Annie testily admonished, "Chill in, Cocoa. Just chill in!"
• Can I just say that listening to Annie re-invent that popular phrase brings a slew of other Annie-isms to mind? I am particularly fond of "No Jose Way!"
• Skip this one if you don't appreciate potty-humor: Apparently, Annie believes she has a little family living in her bottom. The other day when I asked her if she was finished pooping, she said, "Just the mom and dad came out. The little ones are playing a game inside. They will come out later."
• Heading to a track meet, anyone? Listen for Annie to call out, "Ready. Set. Mark. Go!"

Lest you think that Annie alone brings such amusement to our home, I have to share an Emi classic. First, though, let me tell you that Emi tends to be a bit more considerate than Annie before charging ahead with her voice.

• Emi was almost 3 the first time she and I went to Carthage, Illinois. (For those of you who may not know, Carthage - population 2725 - is one of the dots on the map that connects places teeming with history of the early days of the LDS church.) I don't really know what I was expecting - maybe something a little more....quaint? Touristy? Charming? Granted, the day was overcast, so maybe that's why Carthage itself appeared so dusty and grey. Of course, nearly empty streets and sidewalks along with overgrown grass and boarded windows on a few houses and buildings did nothing to suggest much brightness existed in the town, anyway. Apparently Emi's impressions were not much fulgent more than mine, since she observed from her car seat, "Carthage is a lot like Walmart!"
  

A Riddle, Of Sorts

Today, it's a riddle. A guess who? kind of riddle.

We didn't know when she was a new baby if she'd be able to pull all of the tissues out a newly-opened box and trail them unceremoniously around the room. Or decide to make her own container of cinnamon sugar (just imagine the carnage that entails!). Or unroll a new roll of toilet paper both at home and at school, while counting to 20 and waiting for the "pee and poops to wake up" (which seems to happen all too frequently in her pull-up or diaper and not enough on the actual porcelain throne.) Or single-handedly squeeze half a bottle of dish soap into a bowl full of water so her pink frog could take a bath. Or imprint her face so artistically with Curious George stamps pressed in mostly washable blue ink. Or, instead of eating them, mash strawberries into the floor. With her bare feet.....

And this is all just since Saturday.

Like I said, we didn't know if she would be able to do any of those things.

I'm glad she can.

I wish she wouldn't!

Any guesses?

New Year, New Detention

It's been a couple of months since the last detention - I'm talking about Annie, but you knew that already, right? Can you believe this little girl would ball her fingers into a fist and let it fly in another kindergartner's face?

Well, believe it!

Imagination Station

I am listening to Annie play. Her imagination has just bloomed over the past year or so. She often plays with her "kids" or "preschool friends" (all imaginary, of course. I am wondering when her preschool friends will morph into kindergartners.)

Anyway, I just heard Annie exclaim to her friends, "Uh-oh. I hear a police-car coming to get my dad!" She ran over to the "house" and found her dad. (Don't worry, he's not Ryan - okay, that can be taken the wrong way. Let's just say I can't actually see this dad.) "Dad! Dad! Why did you just tease me when I was talking to you? Gotta go! Bye!" I'm not sure if Dad got hauled away or not, because suddenly Annie was at school chatting with her vice-principal (those two are very chummy!) and and planning Annie's move to....Mars? Alaska? 3 blocks away?

This type of play and the conversations that go with it can go on indefinitely. So I will be chuckling all day, except for when I have to admonish Annie, who will in turn tell me that it's not her, but one of her kids, saying "dammit!" and "shut-up" and then I will have to send both of them to Annie's room (after I put my head in my hands and close my eyes for a moment's reprieve. I know where Annie learned dammit *sigh* and I think I can thank the non-imaginary friends - and adored older sister - for words like shut-up and stupid and dummy. Can I just say that as fun as it is, parenting can be hard work, (over-) exposing us - as parents - to our many shortcomings and frailties?)

I will, not for the first time (and certainly not for the last time, either), explain to Annie that she is the one in charge of the things her kids say. She will insist that she is not. I will insist that she is, and that little conversation will continue until one of us (me, most likely) shakes her head in frustration and gives up. And then Annie will go back to her happy la-la-land and continue her day of play. And I will be thankful that despite the, um, inappropriate vocabulary choices and little squabbles that pop up, we are having good times.

She Must Like Me!

The tooth fairy visited Annie for the first time ever about a week-and-a-half ago! It was terribly exciting, as Annie (and the rest of us) have been waiting patiently (and then not-so-patiently) since last February for at least one of her wiggly bottom teeth to fall out.

Annie turned into a little shark when her two bottom adult teeth erupted over a year ago. At about that time, our family dentist said, "Don't worry, the two bottom baby teeth will fall out and then her new teeth (which are rather out of line with the rest of her bottom teeth) will be pushed forward by her tongue. But why don't you go to the dental clinic at Children's Mercy Hospital just to see what they say."

Last February, the resident dentist at Children's Mercy took x-rays and said, "Oh yes, the roots of her two bottom baby teeth are starting to disintegrate. They should fall out in a few months. But come back in August if they are still there and we'll pull them out."

Fast-forward to May: at Annie's next semi-annual check-up, our dentist felt confident we wouldn't be seeing the pediatric dentist again in August. Throughout the summer, Annie's two bottom teeth were getting looser and looser. By the time August rolled around , I figured it was probably just a matter of weeks before at least one of those little pearls found its way out of Annie's mouth.

We bid summer farewell with those two stubborn little teeth still intact! I figured we were close enough to Annie's next regular dental appointment, and those teeth would surely be out by then anyway, so I decided not to call the pediatric dental clinic. At the end of November, we again visited our family dentist. She peered into Annie's mouth and said, "Let me give you the name of a pediatric periodontist." Being the wonderful dentist that she is, Dr. Hung actually called her colleague and discussed Annie's stubborn teeth and they decided Dr. Hung should just go ahead and grab a pair of pliers and YANK!

Okay, it didn't really happen quite like that. We scheduled another appointment for Annie (at the end of December) and she got numbed up and had a great big needle poke her lower gum (um, that was fun. Not!) and then the pliers came out and Dr. Hung went YANK!!!


But here's the good part: Lots of teeth for the Tooth Fairy mean lots of money, right? When Annie (after a little cajoling) decided to see if the Tooth Fairy had stopped by, she was thrilled with all the jingly gold coins clinking against each other in the little organza pouch left behind by the beneficent fairy. In fact, Annie jangled her money and exclaimed about the Tooth Fairy, "She must like me!"

Mirror, Mirror?

You know how kids mimic so many things grown-ups say? (And sometimes when they repeat what we've said, we don't feel so grown up....) Anyway, when I listen to my girls play, it's interesting to hear how they repeat things I say. Sometimes the context is different than mine. Other times, it's right on. I feel like I'm catching a glimpse of myself, at least of how they see me. Sometimes it's flattering. Sometimes, not.

It tickles me that when I hear Emi's Barbies being disciplined, there's an obvious (usually) undercurrent of love. She faithfully rotates her stuffed animals, so that they can all spend time with her (in the car, on her bed, sitting at the table....) And every time Annie says good-bye to our neighbor, a 10-year-old boy who walks home from the bus stop with the girls, she calls, "Bye Christian. I love you!" And she means it.

1. I can't believe how blessed I am and I am incredibly grateful to have kids who show so much love. So freely.
2. I am thankful that I know love is given freely and I'm glad I also know it's worth the hard work it sometimes requires to deepen and strengthen that love.
3. I am so thankful my family loves me. Freely.
   

Family Home Evening a.k.a. the Emi & Annie Show

We enjoy having Family Home Evening. Especially when Emi is in charge! That girl is full of enthusiasm, creativity and energy. And when Emi focuses those wonderful traits of hers on Family Home Evening, we know we are in for something spectacular. And maybe a little bit time-consuming, which is not a problem if we start FHE 3 hours before bedtime.... (She takes Evening quite literally. I think that when she heads of to college, a perfect calling for her in a student ward would be FHE chairperson. If history is any indication, there'd never be a dull Monday night, that's for sure.) Really, when Emi announces she has something planned for us, we wait eagerly with baited breath to see how the evening will unfold. And I guess that may explain how dinosaurs and the North Pole became a part of the the story of Noah and the Ark.

Emi's great with using visual aides. Especially when they are composed of toys, like the Little People Noah and the Ark set. Annie's attention was captured right off the bat, I tell you! I am going to give you the condensed version of the dialogue between the girls from last Monday evening in the hopes that you may get a taste of our fun family time.

Noah's Ark adapted from Genesis 6-9

Emi: "What did the animals float in?"

Annie: "A fish tank!" After some correction from Emi, Annie added that "Noah built the ark because he thought it would be fun for the animals to go and play."

Emi explained about 40 days and nights of rain and the boat floating for a long time, and then she asked Annie to tell us about what happened after the flood waters receded.

Annie: "The ark ended up at the North Pole! Then the animals got out and the dinosaurs ate them!"

Apparently, some of the animals escaped the dinosaurs' hungry jaws because Emi then explained that the "animals became the very first zoo there ever was."

I guess after the zoo was established and Noah and his family got their feet back on the ground (pun intended!) they were able to reminisce fondly about the whole experience. Emi must have been reading between the lines in the Old Testament because she told us that Noah and his family said, "This was the best trip ever! Especially going in a home-made boat!"

This is the night we've waited for;
Always a treat we have in store!
We love each other more and more;
Every Family Night!

“Family Night,” Children’s Songbook of The Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints, 195

We can't wait until tonight!