Caitlin's Big Adenture: Blast Off!

Caitlin left on Saturday afternoon, in the kindly care of her Uncle Ian. He and I don't always get along, but I can't tell you how much it meant to me that he jumped up and flew to NY with her just because it was the right thing to do. The cockles of my heart were appropriately warmed.

Really.

Since we had plenty of time, we spent a leisurely morning getting ready. There was some tickling,

some smooching,

some smooch withholding,

and some crazy faces.

In the end, however, someone was getting on an airplane and that someone wasn't going to be me. So we packed up this girl

and her gear and drove her to the airport.

We chatted about all the fun things she'd be doing while we were at home with the twins (Zoo trips! BBQs! Acquariums! Amusement parks!) and I did a pretty good job of keeping my tone light and happy.

However...when the time came to hug her and send her through security, I had a hard time letting go. Tears filled my eyes and love/fear/worry/happiness squeezed my heart as I hugged Caitlin one last time. I kissed her and with a throaty "I love you!", I sent her off while stuffing down the tears. I didn't want her to see me visibly upset and start off a firestorm of crying on her part.

Blinking rapidly, I took Emma back from Ian (both babies wanted to check out the weather from his lofty height) and sent her on her way.

While she has been away from home before, and for several weeks at a time, she's never been this far away from us. It was tough. Even though the possibility of something happening to her is remote, somehow letting her go that far away makes everything feel more momentous. As if every moment is a potential "last". As hard as it is being a parent, I think the "growing up" moments are harder emotionally than the fights. Each step forward towards independence is yet another step away from us and the relative safety of childhood.

Even as I recognize its inevitability, it's hard on the heartstrings. My baby isn't really a baby any more. She's an intrepid traveler and her adventure is just beginning.

All systems go for launch!

Caitlin's Big Adenture: T minus 3 Days

Caitlin will be heading off for her three week long Hatchet family tour on Saturday.

I'm looking forward to it.

She's looking forward to it.

My relatives are looking forward to it.

Now to make it to Saturday...that's the trick.

We actually had a really good week this past week, but she's suddenly reverted to whining and complaining and foot stomping within the last two days. Since I'm currently sick and have lost my voice, all I can do is growl menacingly or clap my hands to get her attention.

Yeah, it's very effective, lemme tell ya.

Saturday. Woo!

Veggie Garden Update

Looks like it may finally be summer around here. We'd spent most of May and early June being cold and rainy - unseasonably so. Now it's crazy stormy weather (migraine inducing weather) and hot. The vegetable garden is finally producing

lettuce,

basil,

The squash forest, v 2.0.

straightneck yellow squash and zucchini.

It seems that I pop out there every other day or so (in between torrential downpours) and check in on the current growth of the plants and weeds. So far, the plants are winning, but the weeds are giving it a real go. (Just don't ask me about my flower gardens, because I just don't have the time/energy for them this year. I'm gonna have to suck it up at some point and get in there with a...hatchet, but not right yet.)

The corn is getting taller, which is gratifying. My green beans are still working out technical issues. Most of my first planting didn't seem to sprout - probably because it was too chilly. Now I'm debating whether I should sow another set.

Oh, I also learned that once you plant tomatillos, you never have to plant them again! I had all manner of tomatillo plants popping up all over, and ripped them out. I'm still ripping them out, since they keep showing up all over the place. I let 3 remain at the base of the corn bed and that should be plenty.

In Tomatoville, I find that if I don't get out there at least every other day, the tiny secondary sprouts that show up between main stem and branches get big really, really fast. So it's pinch! pinch! pinch! and tie! tie! tie! I learned from last year that I have to keep tying the plants up and pinching back the excessive growth to keep them in check.

So far, this is working like a charm.

I've been checking in on the Black Krim and the two tomatoes on there so far are now the size of a quarter (by the end of the day, the size of a half dollar) and growing quickly. I think keeping the number of tomato plants down to a more reasonable ten has made a big difference, as well as just having them all in one bed without anything else (well, except for that volunteer potato - but that wasn't my fault, per se.). I'm feeling pretty confident that I could reach in and grab tomatoes from the middle. At least, I could at the moment - if there were some in there. Ask me again in August when I forget to check in for 3 or 4 days and then we'll see how easy it is.

The tomato-in-a-pot is doing well, too. This is my experimental tomato plant. Can I grow a full sized, indeterminate Cherokee Purple tomato in a 24" pot? Let's find out!

In bell pepper land, I still had some space, so I shoved in 5 more bell pepper plants. I may come to regret this later when they're all full sized, but it's hard to just let them die on my deck! This morning, I even popped two more into a pot that looked a little empty, so we'll see how that goes, too.

Oh, I learned a little something about lettuce this year: you can never wash lettuce enough.

Once? Laughable. Twice? Not nearly enough. Thrice? You might be getting serious about it at this point. Four times? Quite possibly enough, but you'd better double check every. single. solitary. leaf. because one caterpillar/maggot/creepy crawler on your plate is one waaaaay too many.

Trust me.

I don't spray and I don't have superfine row cover, so insects are inevitable. However, once they cross my threshold and hang on through three separate washes and still make it past the "final" inspection and wind up with dressing on them? Well...that's just freaky. Plus, it makes me sad to toss a perfectly yummy salad, complete with bell peppers and strawberries into the compost bin.

Ah well. Live, learn and garden!

How are your gardens doing?

Twenty One Months

Plus a week, but you know...we've been um...busy! Yeah, that's it! Busy!

Prepare yourselves, for I am about to unleash Logan's secret smiles upon you! Are you prepared? Are you PREPARED?!

YOU are NOT PREPARED!*

Ka-pow! Mischievous grin!

So, it struck me that I hadn't taken any pictures of the little monkeys recently and that you were probably jonesin' for a baby hit (I'm lookin' at you, Jennifer H.). It also struck me that they are quickly morphing out of babyhood. Two is only three months away.

Yeah, I know! Crazy, right?

I figured I'd better get in there with a camera quickly before they went off to college and I was left holding an empty baby album.

Without further ado, here are a slew of pictures.

Logan beeps daddy's nose. Or is he pointing out daddy's eyes?

The twins like to point out and sort of name assorted body parts, but they really seem to like poking us in the eyes and saying "Aiiii!" Somehow babies cannot point from a reasonable distance. They must touch your eyeball. Ow! They can also say ear, nose and toes.

Reading books. Destroying books. All in a day's work.

They still love to read and really like books that have babies in them. "Book!" Unfortunately, between the two of them they utterly destroy books. Emma breaks the spines and Logan tears the pages out. You can't stop them, either. I've taken the books away and brought them back out, but if you leave them laying about, they are baby fodder. So long as they're not hurting one another or the cats, I'm going to have to let some things slide.

Logan's security blanket. Kiss kiss!

Logan is deeply, fervently attached to his blanket in a way that I've only ever seen with my nephews. Caitlin didn't have a special lovey item (other than her two middle fingers) and Emma likes her matching blanket, but doesn't go ape shit if she doesn't have it with her 98% of the time. The yuck he has dragged that thing through! Bleah! In order to wash their blankets, I have to make sure that they're both wide awake and interested in something else, whip them into the washing machine and wash them on the fast wash cycle.

Yes. Alone.

Yes, it's wasteful. I know. I should turn in my green credentials.

However...it keeps the screaming, crying meltdowns to a minimum and that's worth my sanity and a little extra water.

Pouty face extraordinaire.

Logan is still the big screamer around these here parts. If it's not one thing, it's another. He wants to be picked up. He wants to be hand fed. He wants to sit in my lap and eat my food. He wants that toy. Emma took his toy/cookie/milk. He needs more attention. Something. Whatever it is he needs or wants, that need is prefaced by screaming. And sometimes shoving. For instance, if I'm working at the counter preparing dinner, I will get shoved below the knees by Himself if he isn't being attended to. Right. Now. Often this will result in him getting summarily placed in his room, possibly in his crib if the screaming is bad enough. Other times, I'll be nice and pop in a movie.

Mostly he's only willing to watch a movie if I'm there with him. This completely blows the point of putting it in to distract him so I can get dinner ready, though.

Fortunately, he's got these incredible smiles that make everything all better once the screaming stops.

Secret smile for Emma.

He is easy to tickle and laughs readily. He will walk up and give me a hug or a kiss, even without being prompted for one and pets the cats very softly. He's Charming in a way that I hope lasts all of his life and if it does, look out, ladies! Woo!

Also, in case you were wondering, I still can't make myself cut his hair, other than his bangs. His hair! His hair goes Sproing! when you pull on one of the curls (Like in the blanket picture above.). Who could cut those off?!

Beach ready with his ball.

Logan is slow to warm up to changes in his surroundings and new people (He's still terrified of Oliver for reasons unknown.), unless those new people are male and tall. I don't know what it is, but he's terribly shy unless you fall into that category and then he'll ditch me for a ride to the ceiling. At least for a little bit.

I asked both Logan and Emma to do peekaboo for me, since they've been hiding under their blankets recently and waiting for you to "find" them. They had two different responses.

Peek!

Logan nails the peeking.

Interestingly enough, even though they still aren't speaking in sentences, they seem to really understand one another. Do I think they're speaking in a different language? No. I think they just really get one another and crack one another up on a regular basis. It's not like a they're-plotting-against-me level of discussion.

At least...I don't think so!

Now for the youngest young lady of the house.

Pa-pa-pa-pow! Dramatic girl.

My mini-me breaks my heart with her huge brown eyes.

While she's slower to laugh than Logan is ("You're just not funny, mommy."), she wrinkles up her nose and will giggle with the best of them. She loves to play games of chase, either with me or chasing Logan, all unprompted and those are fun to watch. The squealing is ear shattering.

Toothy grin.

She's been teething recently and having a hard time of it. My kids are slooooooow to teeth. On the bright side, no drooling. On the down side, lots of aspirin needs to be applied when I figure out the screaming isn't just general baby angst, but actual pain. Oh and Emma will bite you, if you pop a finger into her mouth to check on the progression of her chompers.

Yeah. Ask me how I know.

Her vocabulary seems larger than Logan's, but I'd be hard pressed to tell you why I think that is. Maybe it's just because she does less of the "Ehn! Ehn! Ehn!" thing. She does follow directions better, though. If you tell her to pick up that food/cup/fork and put it on her tray, she'll do it. Logan will just look at you as if to say, "Isn't that what I pay you people for?!"

Speaking of forks, the twins really like to eat food with utensils. They also really like to fling the food and utensils around once they're done ("All done! All done! All done!"), but that's not their problem, is it?

Bleah!

Emma shows off her tongue on request.

Emma's response to peekaboo:

Completely misses the "peek" part of the equation.

She's often so busy "talking" that she cracks me up and suggests that Caitlin will have a run for her money on the title of She Who Steals All the Oxygen from the Room. That child can talk!

Emma likes to show off how strong she is by picking up and carrying her pony around - just like Pippi Longstocking.

Dis mah ponee!

Of course, while she may also want coffee (like Pippi), we're not so crazy that we give her any. Or my tea, even though she asks for it by name.

I ride mah ponee now. You watch.

She seems to have come to terms with the kitties and pets them more gently now, which is really good to see. Kaboom puts up with more petting than Domino does, but I noted that she can say Domino's name, but not Kaboom's. "Nom-no." Works for me!

Dis mah puppy. Well, Logan's, but is mine now.

Emma remains the easier of the twins to put to bed and is the one that sleeps sounder at night. Logan has been waking up recently and begging for more food "Foo! Foo!", so we get them both up and stuff them full of cereal and put them back to sleep.

Emma shows off her shaggy locks.

I also can't make myself cut Emma's hair, but for a slightly different reason. She has so little that it seems counterproductive to cut any off. Instead, I try to keep it out of her eyes by putting it into clips. The clips don't last too long, though, since Logan steals them. Or Emma pulls them out. But really? Logan is jealous of her whenever she has a headband or clips in her hair and demands similar hair treatments. He's terribly cute in headbands, too.

Yes, he does get mistaken for a girl when we're out shopping, but that's even without having clips in his hair.

Emma in profile.

When we go new places or meet new people, Emma is the more outgoing of the two and doesn't discriminate against short men the way Logan does. She's still the more athletic of the two and is more willing to go exploring and take physical risks. This is made easier by the fact that she's not burdened by a blanket all of the time. She's wonderful and smoochie and is voted the one most likely to break something.

Not yet, though. Not yet.

Well, unless you're a CD or a book.

Siiiigh.

Also, you'll be glad to know that they're still crazy about one another, despite the hair pulling and toy stealing that goes on.

Kisses!

Go on, you can say it: "Awwww!"




* WOW reference for you geeks.

Now You Are Eight

For your eighth birthday, I made you eat bugs.

Nom!

Ripping the wings off of butterflies. Aiee!

And sleep outside, on the ground. In a tent.

And have a sleepover that lasted three whole days!

BFFs, baby!

So, even though there was only one guest and very few presents, I think we can call it a success.

Through bad timing (apparently summer birthdays are hard to schedule around) and great distance from the invitees, we went from 4 potential party and sleepover guests to one. Oh well. Fortunately, you rolled with it and we turned it from one night into two nights, plus pizza, ice cream and a movie out. Also, running and screaming with your BFF for two and a half days straight has been a thrill for you both. Talk about late nights!

This last year has been tough on you and I. Hell, who am I kidding? These last two years since your brother and sister were born, have been tough on you. And me. You've gone from the first and only to the eldest of not one, but two crazy babies. Your limelight wasn't just stolen, it was hijacked, mugged and punched in the face repeatedly. You've responded by becoming the best whiner ever! You now throw yourself onto the floor at the least provocation.

Requests that cause you to throw yourself onto the floor (Apparently from their sheer weight on your soul!):

• Brush your teeth
• Brush your hair
• Get dressed
• Get ready for bed
  
• Clean your room for 15 minutes
• Put your dishes in the sink
• Get in the car and put on your seat belt
• Take a bath
• Do your homework
  

Why do I ask you to do all of this? Because I am the strictest mother in all creation. It's true. Just ask around. None of the rest of your friends have to do these things. Nope. Not one. I have all of these expectations of you. You know, that you'll be clean and possibly healthy. But you know what? Now that you're eight maybe all the rules will change? Maybe you won't have to take showers anymore and brush your hair? Yeah! Maybe we'll try that! I feel certain that your attitude will completely change once I let you do everything you want and nothing at all that you don't want.

Uh huh.

But wait! After spending the last couple of days observing you and your BFF, I realize that you're perfectly normal! Apparently all of the whining and bad attitude is just a stage! Woo! Maybe you'll break out of it soon. I can only hope. It's either that or you'll have to fish me out of a pitcher of mojitos because this is the toughest time I've had with you. It's very painful. But no one wants to hear that.

You started taking piano lessons and you appeared to be a natural. I hope you'll pick it back up in the fall, when school starts. I love listening to you play.

In twelve days, you'll be heading off on your very first trip alone for three weeks. You'll wing off to NYC to hang out with your Aunt Dawn, Cousin Janet, Aunt Cindy and maternal grandparents. You are going to have such an incredible time, your head may just pop off with all of the excitement! Zoo trips, shopping, museums, camping, and seemingly endless playdates with cousins and grandparents and new friends-to-be. Maybe you'll miss us, maybe you won't, but you'll have the chance to find out what it's like to travel on your own and live under someone else's rules for awhile.

I noticed that you keep getting taller. What's up with that? Your clothes keep shrinking, but I'm not yet ready to admit that you're actually eight. You know, two years shy of double digits. That's really weird. Next thing you know, you'll be entering the third grade midway through August and starting the whirlwind of school, playdates and projects again. School has been kind of hard for you, mostly because of all the girl drama you have with your friends. Or frenemies, as they seem to be. I wish I could help you make better friend choices, but considering how well I did when I was your age, I can't really say I'm surprised at your choices. I just wish I knew why you stopped being the leader and have started being a follower.

Hopefully that will change.

You officially learned how to ride a bike this year! After spending the last couple of years throwing your bike to the ground and blaming it for crashing you into the sidewalk repeatedly, we handed you off to Aunt Jenni for biking lessons. She performed magic on you, apparently, because you came back knowing how to ride a bike without training wheels. Now, with a little more practice (That dreaded word!), maybe you'll stop using your feet to brake.

You still don't like doing physical things since you can't be perfect at them the first time you try them. We keep tossing you into new sports and situations, hoping something will stick. Maybe karate in the fall will help? We can only hope!

You still devour books, but for reasons we can't understand, want new books but don't want to read new books. I don't get it. Really, I don't. When I was your age (get used to that saying, kiddo), I absolutely inhaled every book I could get my hands on. I read everything that was laying around in the house from Reader's Digests to Harlequin Romance novels to science-fiction to Black Beauty to The Exorcist. (By the way, what the hell was that doing in our house? Gaaaaah! Not a book a 13 y/o girl should read.) If it had words on it, I read it. The fact that you want to collect books and yet read The Trumpet of the Swan for the 40th time boggles my mind. It's like we have to convince you that new books are just as good as old books.

You've gotten strange about food. Whereas you used to dip everything you ate into a sauce of one kind or another, you suddenly want nothing to do with sauces. Not even ketchup. Is this a girl thing? Something you picked up at school? I don't get it. Next thing you know, you'll tell me you don't like salmon anymore and then my head will explode.

Ex-PLODE.

KA-POW!

When you play with the twins nicely it makes me very happy. For a few minutes you make them squeal with laughter and chase them around. They love you so much it makes my heart ache to watch the three of you. Sometimes I watch, but mostly I'm probably trying to make dinner or clean up after all of you. It's crazy, but the magical Cleaning Fairies still have not found our house, so someone has to keep picking up all of the discarded food/shoes/toys and I guess that someone is me. When you keep them busy, you make my life easier and I really appreciate it. Not having a short person attached to my leg makes getting food in and out of a hot oven a lot less tricky. (Have you ever tried pulling food out of the oven while fending off a pair of 21 month olds? Feels just like being a goalie in soccer or like a defender in basketball. Except, you know, it's burningly hot and the opposing team is crazy. And short.)

When the playing turns to screaming, that part is not so much fun. I know you didn't mean to hurt anyone (mostly), but you did and you need to own up to it and learn from it and stop doing it. I know, it's a lot to expect from you, but there it is. Strict mommies like me have all of these rules and not hitting your brother and sister are on the top of the list.

During the good times, when we have put the twins to bed and it's just you and I and your father hanging out, that's when I like you the most. We can just settle down for awhile and focus on you, which you like. Sometimes there's even time for snuggling. You don't get as many as you used to, it's true. Hint: Being stinky doesn't help.

This year, I'll try harder to have more patience. Maybe you'll try harder to be more polite to me. We'll do our best together in our parent-child relationship, because even when it's really really hard, I'm certain that you know that I love you, just as I know that you love me.

Even when you're yelling the opposite.

I love you, my little monkey. Happy birthday!