...Friday night at about 11 p.m., I decided to surprise Clara with tickets to the 11 a.m. Saturday show of Crozen on Ice. If you aren't Clara, you probably call it Frozen on Ice.
We got there at 10:00 a.m. and found out our tickets were for the, uh, 2:30 p.m. show.
It actually worked in our favor because once Clara saw all the other girls at the arena in their Elsa dresses...
Well, she had to have one.
So we went to Target, the mall, lunch. And then back for the 2:30 p.m. show.
...and our $25 commemorative photo.
She couldn't wait.
She was amazed.
And then there was me. The former competitive figure skater. Thinking the whole time, "I could've done this." (Especially when Prince Hans fell on his double axle), and then taking a moment to enjoy my $13 cotton candy.
And then it was over and Clara said, "I want to see that again. Right now. Right now. RIGHT NOW!"
We'll always have the memories. And the $25 commemorative picture.
...It is common for kids with language issues to also struggle with reading. Charlie has a communication book that comes home with him every night with notes from his teachers and if there's ever any struggle, it's in reading ("distracted," "had trouble with task").
I take this harder than I ever expected.
As Ken said, I shouldn't expect every day to be sunshine and rainbows and unicorns. But that doesn't keep me from wanting every day to be sunshine and rainbows and unicorns.
He might struggle to learn to read (it's still early, I realize that), but I know he already loves to read.
Science, however? He's already smarter than me. (And Ken realized there was a more, uh, correct answer to the second part of the first question).
...we take one last beach trip every september or october.
This weekend was a little cold and a little rainy. But we still found time for the bookstore.
...and a walk to the beach
...some sand between our (cold) toes
...a family picture (figures, the one where I'm telling Charlie to put his tongue BACK in his mouth is the one where he is actually looking and smiling)
...and some long naps
...Clara had a sudden fever yesterday (hence, the vomiting alllll over mommy picture). She woke up at 10:00 last night with a number I'd never seen on the thermometer before: 105.2
Oh, and she was complaining that her neck hurt.
Off to the pediatric ER we go.
Some zofran and motrin and a diagnosis of hand, foot and mouth (devil disease), and we were on our way home.
Yes, she is that cute.
...And now to figure out how to spend multiple days at home with a three year-old.
...well, one little girl started ballet
...and her brother looked on
...we bought a big girl bed on craigslist (score! vintage Jenny Lind bed!)
...and then a big whomp whomp whomp when we realized said bed also required a vintage mattress. At least she was still smiling about sleeping on the floor on her mattress and box spring
(Back to craigslist the Jenny Lind bed now goes).
...And with the big girl bed came the ceremonial throwing away of the titi (binky)
Why yes, that's a picture of our trash compactor. She has called, longingly, for titi about a dozen times this week. I have called, longingly, for titi about 1,490,298 times this week.
...Charlie started actual soccer games. These pictures pretty much sum up his interest (he's #6).
...His team is like the Bad News Bears. Clara tries to take everyone's mind off it
...We have been puzzling
...and more puzzling
...and working on our higher math in kindergarten
...working on the interactive white board
...catching a ride around school with his awesome OT
...and making fine art ("Man in Canoe")
...we went to Lego Brickfest
...Got caught jumping from the table to the couch
...and played superheroes
...we waited in the car for Charlie on our one day home without him
...got our first haircut
...vomitted allllllll over our mother
...and looked for other avenues for college scholarships, since soccer isn't looking like it's going to pan out
...all is well (well, except for the vomit but hopefully that's temporary).
...it's nice to go to a school where everybody already knows your name.
...and friendships are already formed.
...But here's to the new friendships and new adventures that await you, Charlie Bear.
...And here's to texts from my mom that put it all in perspective.
...We are all very, very haooy tonight.
...And tomorrow you'll be here when that little guy starts Kindergarten. Not in diapers, as we once feared, not sucking a pacifier, as we once feared, and not NOT talking, as we once feared (a lot).
Yeah, Charlie, you did it!
...you rose early, as you always do at the beach. You had a pretty rotten cold and as daddy was walking out the door to get your birthday donut, you yelled in your scratchiest eighty-year-old voice, "Don't forget my coooofffffeeeee." (It's hot chocolate but we don't tell you that).
...we spent the morning at the Salisbury Zoo. It was small, uncrowded, and manageable. Perfect.
...Charlie continued his study of zoo maps.
...After Charlie's fifth birthday extravaganza, I swore I would never have a birthday at our house. Again. So, for Clara's party we hosted a small group at our town's Arts Council for a Hello Kitty Dance Party. The children (and a lot of the moms) did zumbini for 45 minutes, the kids ate pizza and cupcakes, and an hour and forty-five minutes later, it was over. Perfect.
Today you are three. Which is just crazy because I can still remember laying in bed the day you were born pretty distinctly, the pain of your heel in my side, realizing it was one of the last few moments I would feel you from the inside.
You have just become potty-trained and have no shame. Yesterday at the pool, you screamed to me, “Mommy, I peed in the pool,” and then swished your hand around in the water. Keep it classy, Clara.
You love to eat. You will eat almost anything. And if you are the tiniest bit skeptical, I just add some sour cream or barbeque sauce and you are good to go. You dipped your flounder in A1 the other day. You have a massive sweet tooth. It’s genetic.
You are constantly moving. Dancing, running, jumping, wiggling. You are tall and look like you are going to inherit mommy’s long legs and clumsiness with the bruises that often line your shins. You are starting to sing along to songs in the car (your repertoire ranges from, “Fancy” to the “Doc McStuffins” theme song. Your genres vary).
You talk. A lot. I didn’t know what it was like to have a toddler who communicated with words. You are confident when no one is watching, but hide quickly behind mommy’s knees when noticed.
You have the biggest, brightest blue eyes that often garner comments from complete strangers. On many occasions, we have been out and I hear someone whisper to someone, “Did you see that little girl with the blue eyes and curls?” The ultimate compliment is one a stranger doesn’t know you can hear.
You love the beach and the pool, your dog. Your most favorite thing to play, in the whole wide world, is office. You will jam file folders and “found” (stolen) paperwork into every bag you own (or have stolen). Tonight, I heard you ask no one in particular, “Did you have a good day at work?” You will come over and ask me to sign pieces of your paperwork. I just hope you aren’t already signing yourself up for credit cards.
You love your brother. Your relationship has truly exploded over the last six months and I hope it is always this way. He loves you, Clara Kayyouarezee. We all do.
...here's the truth: I miss organized scrapbooking. I miss deadlines. So when I was approached about teaching a class at Studio Calico, I jumped at the opportunity.
Introducing Pen & Paper.
(Honestly, I'd just like to print out the logo and wallpaper a room in my house with it).
I have been writing for as long as I can remember. I wrote in a journal (oh, painful to read now) for ten years growing up. I wrote my mom a note every night before bed. I majored in journalism at Lehigh University and received my master's in writing from The Johns Hopkins University. And I've been memory keeping almost as long. I'm thrilled to join the two together in this class.
As an added deal, Studio Calico is bundling Pen & Paper with April Foster's, "Snapshots" class for only $30. You can find the link for the bundle deal here.
...And we're off! Hope you can join us.
"I felt two things immediately when I got the news last night: first that the light had dimmed and, on its heels, a sense that this was inevitable; that Robin had lived for a long time with a darkness at the periphery of his vision.
What must it have been like to be present when he improvised the genie in "Aladdin" or Lovelace in "Happy Feet?" His Texan, his gay stylist, his Soviet comedian, Mrs. Doubtfire…He was a one-man menagerie.
Perhaps, just as we were swept away, so was he.
I remember the small, uncontrollable chuckle that often accompanied his flights of fancy; as if he were as amazed as we were by what was happening to him.
Who can pretend to understand a gift like Robin Williams'? Meteoric, volcanic, fast and furious…Perhaps there is a price for such brilliance.
I'm so sad he's gone and so grateful he left us so much." James Taylor
...so I got a fitbit.
And you know what? It turns out that chasing/walking to check the mail/unbuckling/buckling/walking up the stairs 8,209 times a day makes 10,000 steps add up really, really fast.
The whole mileage thing is incredible to me...I mean, it almost makes me feel like I could run a marathon. Or walk it. In a 48-hour period. OK, let's be honest, maybe a 60-hour period.
The part I love most is where it says, "No exercise today," and I'm so exhausted at the end of the day I find it hard to walk up the stairs for the 8,210th time.
...We had a neighbor in Baltimore whose golden retriever was named DOG (pronounced deeogee).
Lately, when you ask Clara what her last name is, her answer is, "Clara Kayyouarezee." Think she's heard me spell it out on the phone a few times?
These kids...they can be tough...but then they say something like that and you are like, "Man, you are awesome."