project sam—kindergarten!

sam and his plastic "i know you want me to smile and look 'normal'" smile (also our nice, new fence and awful weeds)

the real sam

sam and his good buddy remond | sam and his teacher, mrs. smith (you can tell who he was most excited to see)

sam started his first day of kindergarten today! it was just a half day (we don't start in to full days until after the labor day holiday—they like to ease the kids in), but sam was so ready. while other kids were clinging onto parents for dear life or shedding tears, i asked sam if he wanted me to stand in line with him and his response was "no. i'm okay with my friends." that's my sam.

at noon, we picked him up and heard that he had lost another tooth while he was there, and several classmates commented about the fact that he got a tiny "tooth box" to keep his tooth in. it was a very exciting day. sam's report: "it was good."

sam and his tiny "tooth box"

in honor of sam heading off to his first day of kindergarten, i made him a little sign (full disclosure: i saw one like this on pinterest, but i like a diy, so...). too bad he probably can't read all of this yet. he's getting dangerously close to being able to, though. he's about to break the "let's spell whatever it is so he won't know what we're talking about code (dang!) he already figured out "i c e c r e a m", and "d e s s e r t". (actually, even lucy knows what "d e s s e r t" is at this point. if it's mentioned, she will ask for "drt".)

anywho, in case you need a reminder/motivator for your mornings, you can get a pdf here to print out one of your own.

the lucy project—lucy @ 2

for the past month or so i've been thinking about the post i wrote about sam when he was two, and the list of all the fun, quirky things that he was doing at that age. i've been thinking that i wanted to do the same for lucy, but every time i sat down to the computer, i just didn't know how to put lucy into words. or maybe it was that there just seemed to be a lot of words, because even though lu is a small person, she's got a lot of personality, and trying to cram all that into one list felt like trying to cram a whale into a tin can (not easy). however, i've decided to make an attempt, if only because not making an attempt means that i'd have nothing to reminisce over later on.

things i want to remember about lucy at two:

- the sparkly shoes. the red sparkly shoes that came from cousin alice are the footwear of choice these days and are definitely a hallmark of lucy's style. sometimes she adds a hat (sometimes daddy's so she can be "tiny daddy", sometimes mommy's, sometimes the felt bucket that she refers to as the "toothpaste hat"), or her pink blanket (if she's a "cold princess"), and frequently there are sunglasses involved, but mostly it's all about the shoes. and they are so VERY important. also adding to the girly factor, her favorite color is pink. if we can't find the "happy airplane" shirt, the "daddy angel" onesie, a buckeye shirt, or the darth vader tee, i better be able to dig up something pink, otherwise "naked" will be the outfit of the day.

- the puzzles. we are puzzled daily. she's very fond of one or two in particular, and as soon as she gets the last piece in we have to break it apart so we can do it again (and again, and again). my favorite part is the "ta-da!" at the end.

- speaking of ta-da's, there are lots of words. i'd do a count of her vocabulary, but there are really too many to keep track of. several people have commented on her verbal-ness, but considering the company she keeps (sam), it's no wonder that she's got a lot to say. also, one does not get the nickname "tiny tyrant" without being able to instruct her subjects about what they should (or shouldn't) be doing. the girl knows what she wants, and for better or worse, she will let you know what that is.

- that when lucy plays with action figures, everyone gives hugs and kisses. sure, they also knock each other down (they ARE action figures), but it's also likely that there will be a few hugs and kisses thrown in, and it makes me smile every time i see the riddler or doctor doom giving robin a nice wet one. i don't know if it's a "girl" thing or a lucy thing, but there is a lot of lovin' to be had with this little lady.

- that funny thing where she puts rubber bands on her hands and calls them lucy duck and sammy duck (and she's very specific which one is lucy and which is sammy, i tried mixing them up and was sternly corrected). then i have to be mommy and daddy ducks with my hands.

- that she likes to draw people. her people have heads, eyes, mouths, legs (she often calls them "foots"), and usually one arm, and hair. sometimes you can even tell what she's been drawing. i am also instructed regularly to draw family portraits. most recently it was a family portrait of everyone as turtles.

- that she is determined. lucy likes to do things on her own and in her own way. when she got her doll and pink stroller at oglegay, she declared that she was going to walk from our cabin to the playground (which was a walk that i couldn't get sam to do without complains), and darned if she didn't walk all the way there, pushing the little stroller, by herself. 

- lucy is all about the do-it-yourself attitude. she handles a spoon and fork almost as well as sam (sometimes better), and is very close to being able to dress herself (possibly with everything being backwards). she prefers to brush her own teeth (but we force her to get help anyway), and she has figured out how to go up and down the stairs standing up (which occasionally freaks me out). she can definitely do enough climbing to get herself into trouble if not watched, and i have to keep an eye on her at the playground, lest she get in over her head.

- like sam, lucy loves to sing and dance. favorite songs include, "elmo ducks", "man sing", itsy-bitsy spider, baa baa black sheep (sometimes "baa baa pink sheep"), twinkle twinkle little star, and the voltron theme song. i'm sure there are others, including those she makes up on her own.

- she has taken to building cities and playgrounds with wood blocks and sometimes make spaceships with legos that she will zoom around. when she does, i definitely feel like i've been here before. i do believe the ends of her jump rope were rockets this morning.

all in all, lucy is about as awesome as can be. she may be little, but she's definitely a force to be reckoned with. happy second birthday, little lu. you are a precious, precocious, little bear and i love you so!

lucy's stats at two:

height - 34.25 inches (59th percentile)

weight - 21.06lbs (below 3rd percentile)

"the dishes will always be there..."

the after-effects of "spiderman ice cream" on the tongue (i was also informed this morning that it makes "green poop")

if you're on facebook at all, i'm sure you've seen a ton of those little, witty quotes typeset in boxes, sometimes with the little vintage illustrations? yeah? well, there are a specific bunch that always drive me bonkers, the ones that have sayings to the tune of "the dirty dishes will still be there, your kids won't." arrgh. 
as if i don't have enough guilt while working from home (and letting my kids watch a few too many episodes of power rangers), or for taking the time to peruse facebook (and instagram, oh instragram how i adore thee) while the kids are scarfing down their meals, now i have to feel guilty for cleaning? that's just...crazy talk. seriously.
it's not like i'm little miss clean-y pants with my spotless house that i don't let anyone make messes in. on the contrary, the kids are constantly eating "meals on the go" as they run around the house spreading crumbs like a plague. but once they're done (okay, maybe a few days later, that's AFTER), yeah, i totally go around with my broom and dustpan and do my best to, at the very least, keep the house from being a total shambles (also, we have an ant problem, and double also, i hate the feeling of dirt stuck to the bottoms of my feet).
so to those who post all that kind of nonsense about my kids are growing up and i should be enjoying them, thanks for the reminder to appreciate my kids, BUT (and this is a big, fat but) i think my kids are learning at least two valuable lessons from seeing me tiding up around the house (yes, despite the look of it, i actually do clean):
1) everyone has responsibilities. when i'm doing dishes (or laundry, or sweeping the floor, or putting things away), i hope my kids don't see that as "gee, mom really likes to clean. look at her go!", but that people (grown-ups and kids) have to do a lot of things that aren't fun, but that need doing. laundry is not my greatest joy, vacuuming toast crumbs out of the living room rug is not my definition of a good time, but like a lot of things in life, they need to be done. and though it looks like a small thing (though you should have SEEN the dirt that came out of the rug by the side door, it was impressive, people), if all these small, boring things didn't get done, the house would soon be a much less pleasant place to wreak havoc.
2) sometimes we need to be patient. i totally want my kids to know that they're important to me, much more important than things (like the walls they keep trying to put holes in), but to a certain degree they need to realize that life isn't all about them. sometimes i need them to color by themselves or push the pause button on the thirteenth diatribe about power rangers ("but not jungle fury power rangers, but the other kind, and i'm the gold one and my friend is the green one..."), because sometimes, just sometimes, other things need to be my priority. 
and this is where those those sayings about "the dishes will always be there..." really get to me, because, yes, the dishes WILL be there, and heck if i'm going to take space out of the two hours after the kids go to bed that i get for "my own" to do that kind of stuff. no way. most of the time that's dedicated to working on freelance anyway, so it's already taken, yo. so thanks for the guilt. thanks for the reminders about childhood is fleeting (yes, i know that, and that's why i spend an extra ten minutes after lu falls asleep to hold her and give her a few kisses on her "only little once" cheeks), but i can't always let the passage of time be like some rabid beast chasing me into stressing that i'm missing every precious moment. not all moments are precious, or at least, not all moments need to be witnessed and appreciated by me to be precious. stop trying to make me crazy. unless you haven't noticed, i'm already there.

to do list, the second time around

we are getting ready to leave for Oglebay. We're a few days late because of our unexpected arrival, but also thrilled that we can all go as a family instead of someone (me) being either left alone waiting for the baby or here with a newborn on my own (and bored out of my mind). i'm particularly glad that i won't be sending sam off on his own. not because i don't think he can handle it (i heard about what happened with gramma and grampa while we were at the hospital—he saw gramma when he came down in the morning and said, "where's grampa?" not "where's mommy?" or "where's daddy?" but "where's grampa?" apparently he waited until after breakfast to wonder where his parents were. way to knock mom down a few pegs kiddo) but because i'm not sure i can. it was hard enough to be in the hospital without my favorite sidekick.

anywho, so i've got lists and lists going on—what to pack (we're packing for two kids now!), what needs to be done before we leave (the trash needs to be OUT, we learned that the hard way one year. oh, the fruit flies!). but a lot of my thinking has had to do with what i want to remember about this tiny, new sibling we've got in the house. how there are things i didn't do when sam was born, and now i'm wishing i had.

first on the list—take pictures of the WHOLE baby. with sam i was totally focused on that adorable little face and barely took any photos of his whole body. no tiny feet were saved for posterity in those first few days, and i still regret it. so yesterday i set up a spot on the couch and took lots of photos of little lucy. she's even tinier than i could've imagined, and though my photography skills are utterly limited, i think i got enough good ones that i will be satiated later on.

second—write down her "birth story". i didn't do this with sam, but this time around everything went about as well as i could've hoped for and i want to remember that, if only to feel better about how unhappy i was the first time. i sat down earlier and typed out what i can remember of those few hours pre-lucy. i already feel like it was time well spent.

third—enjoy that baby! though i'm already missing being pregnant (it was nice to have a reason to move slowly, to eat an extra helping of melon knowing i was growing a baby, to have people wanting to help me with this and that, plus i didn't have to worry about sucking in my gut—there's no sucking in a bump that big!) i know now that everyone is right when they say "they grow up so fast!" sam now seems huge in comparison (though still my adorable baby boy, i gotta say). so i'm doing my best to enjoy this tiny little person who's little bottom is barely holding up her premie pants (goodness help us if she was any earlier!)

now off to finish that packing. we've got a car to load up and a doctor's visit scheduled for right after lunch. we need to be on our way to get to oglebay by dinner, and we're looking forward to it!

sam—a two-year-old character

(doodles of sam being sam)

i was recently talking to someone about sam's current mode-of-operation, and i can only think that he is doing a lot of dealing with his personal growth and finding out where he fits into this great, wide world that he wakes into every day. there are moments of sheer independence ("sammy do it 'self.") and then there are moments when you couldn't fit a sheet of airmail stationary (do people still know what airmail stationary is?) between him and i.

there is also a lot of this-not-that—by which i mean that he will ask for something only to say "no [insert food, object, action]" the moment he gets it. for example, at bedtime it's "no mack (his favorite bedtime truck)", so i take mack out of the bed, leave the room, and be called almost immediately to put mack back into his bed. and in general, i will let him fuss for about five minutes before going in to resolve the situation—which seems to give him the appropriate amount of time to decide exactly what it is he wants (or how he wants to assert his control) before he can finally settle down to sleep. it's a pattern that has formed, a little dance we do—"yes elmo!" "no elmo!", "yes blankets!" "no blankets!"

and so around our house there's a lot of push-and-pull, small battles going on (everywhere, all day, and luckily i have started to figure out where the landmines have been placed, where i can tread with confidence, and where i need to tip-toe carefully. there are times when, watching sam make his way down the stairs frontward (no longer backward on his hands and knees), i get the urge to scoop him up and carry him because every step seems a little wobbly, a little tentative (and god-forbid he should take ANOTHER tumble down the stairs and get ANOTHER bonk on his beezer…) it's hard to be the adult, to watch without being the "hovering safety-net", to let my little trooper grow up. but i know it's also hard for sam, because there's a lot that he wants to do that he can't. when he says "no" it's because he's also hearing a lot of "no". that he can't choose to not go to daycare on wednesdays, or not return books to the library when they can no longer be renewed online. so he's staking out his territory one small battle at a time, testing boundaries, scaling a little barbed wire (that parents have been so carefully placing in his path), and finding "sammy robert norstrom" in any place he can.

more power to you, little peanut (unless it means spitting out your cereal all over your clothes—and the table, and the floor—moments before we need to leave the house, that is).