Observation

Bath time around here is no longer fun. What used to be the most joyous time of the day - giggling children, silly shampoo hairdos, oh my goodness the divine smell of a freshly lotioned baby! - has turned into a nightmarish routine of whining and fighting.

I can almost set my watch by the complaining. First Rachel starts her "I'm very very cold" song before her toes even touch the water. Then they fight over who gets to sit in the front of the tub. Then Rachel complains about having to rinse the shampoo out of her hair. Then Anna yells at Rachel for any reason she can find. Then the kicking starts, the kicking of as much water as possible out of the tub and onto the floor.

By the time the water starts flying I am at the end of my rope. Which admittedly isn't that long to begin with. As the girls get out of the tub and start fighting over the lotion and pushing each other for space in front of the mirror, my voice gets louder and soon I'm barking orders at them like a drill seargant, only meaner.

And now I'm pulling them apart and reminding Rachel not to put lotion in her hair and warning Anna to stop screaming and lamenting the fact that every single night it's the same frustrating scene. Then suddenly Anna stops shrieking to make an observation:

"Hmmm, my snot tastes like coconut milk."

The three of us freeze for a second before dissolving into laughter and I get to enjoy the moment before Rachel decides to express her joy by shoving Anna in the chest for no apparent reason. And I'm back to the battle.

True story - even the part with the bunnies

June 22, 2001, was a Friday and like we did most weeks, Dan and I had dinner with his parents. We were back at our apartment for a good twenty minutes and settled in front of the television when Dan suddenly suggested going out for ice cream.

We headed up the street to an ice cream shop we both grew up with but were met by a sign announcing that the shop was closed for remodeling. Dan seemed disproportionately unnerved by this information and we sat in the car for a long minute deciding our next move. I finally suggested getting milkshakes from a fast food chain nearby and he reluctantly agreed.

Huge takeout milkshakes in hand, Dan drove to a small local park where we stood and watched the sunset as a family of bunny rabbits played in the grass. I am not making this up, I distinctly remember these rabbits. And they were playing. But I digress.

In this park, watching those rabbits, drinking those enormous milkshakes, Dan asked me to marry him. And I said yes of course and then I got mascara on the shoulder of his polo shirt because I cried. A lot. I was happy.

We married the following November. November 2, 2002. Seven years ago today. It's been quite a roller coaster, this marriage thing, but we've decided to stay on the ride.

Happy Anniversary honey!

(Photo taken on Day 3 of our awesome Vegas honeymoon)

Restraint

As I've written about before, my girls go to an orthodox Jewish preschool and therefore have no school friends with which to share the joy of Halloween. This year I reminded the girls to try not to talk about Halloween at school so that they don't make anyone else feel left out.

I realize that it is virtually impossible for children this age to keep secrets but aside from trying to do a little damage control, I sort of wanted to see what would happen when they tried to keep this topic out of their everyday conversation.

Thursday night as we set off on our trick or treating adventure we walked through a particularly large pile of leaves on the sidewalk and enjoyed the crunchiness under our feet. The rest of the night easily overshadowed that pile of leaves in the excitement category but sure enough on Friday morning Rachel's memory was triggered.

At circle time Rachel's teacher talked about walking in leaves and Rachel was eager to contribute. "You know what?" she reported, "Last night, my mommy and my sister Anna and me and well Daddy was at work but my mommy and my big sister..." I held my breath and waited for her to mention costumes, candy or the dreaded H word. "We walked through the leaves and it crunched!" She finished with a beaming smile.

I exhaled as she turned and looked at me with pride. "Mommy, I didn't talk about Halloween!"

Because I can't resist

Before:

During:


After:

I was so proud of the girls for being polite and gracious during their trick or treating. They said thank you at every house without any prompting and Rachel kept shouting "Happy Halloween!" over her shoulder as she pranced back down the driveways.

The high points: Rachel deciding that she wasn't afraid of the costumes or dogs that she saw and announcing that fact to anyone who would listen, "because princesses are brave!"; Anna naming the breed of every dog she saw along the way and stunning their owners with her accuracy; gorgeous weather.

Definitely the best Halloween with the girls yet.

That's my girl

I'm in the kitchen making dinner while the girls play in the next room under Dan's supervision. The vent over the stove keeps me from hearing too much of what is going on but eventually I recognize the unmistakable sounds of my girls dissatisfaction: Rachel's foot stomping and Anna's screech.

I assume it has something to do with the mermaid Barbie outfit that has been causing familial strife for two days now and I inch closer to the melee to see how the girls are working things out. Almost anything short of physical violence is preferable to their normal course of action, which is to run screaming to Mommy.

As I peer around the corner I see Anna defiantly facing off against her sister. Rachel is standing with her hands on her hips, leaning forward as she yells, "Anna! You have to be NICE TO ME!"

Anna turns and walks away as she declares, "I don't want to be nice."

She may have muttered it but she was heard loud and clear.

Take Us Back In Time Tuesday - 10/13/09

My photo this week for Mrs. Schmitty's Take Us Back In Time Tuesday project was taken on December 4, 2005.

Seriously, are words even needed? Rachel was twenty days old. Anna was one year, three days. We were admittedly lucky that either one of them was sleeping at all, let alone both at the same time. Dan had been holding Rachel when Anna fell asleep on the couch and he placed the baby next to her "big" sister. You can see how Rachel's knees are still pulled up in the position she'd been in on her Daddy's chest. Dan took the picture and called me over and I do believe that I burst into tears at the sight.

This photo is pure love and joy. I would totally wallpaper the house with it if my husband would let me. But he won't. Heartless, right? So for now I'll just post it forever on my little corner of the interwebs.

If you would like to take part in this project - come on, do it, you know you want to - the participation rules are here and the Mr. Linky link can be found here.

Sometimes it really is the little things

The other day Anna fell asleep on the couch while I was preparing dinner and I had to wake her up or risk a very late, frustrating night.

As expected, she woke up cranky - who doesn't after only being allowed a 20 minute nap? - and as I already had a headache I tried to soothe her with, well, bribery. Luckily it only took a lemon popsicle and I watched as she ate it, bleary eyed and still mildly offended at being woken up.

When a few drops of popsicle melted onto her shirt I got one of her favorite nightgowns for her to change into, a brown and pink polka dot number. With ruffles. "I wish you washed this," she told me.

I was confused. "I did wash this honey, it's from your dresser, it's clean."

"But I wish you put it in the dryer."

I smiled. I've been known to pop the towels in the dryer before bathtime because I'm awesome like that. "Do you want me to make it warm, honey?" I asked. Her smile was my answer.

So I put it into the dryer and we chatted for a few minutes in the laundry room. When I retrieved the warm mass of fleece and started to pull it over her head I heard a sharp, high-pitched shriek and feared for a moment that I'd caught the fabric on her earring.

But then her head appeared, all pink cheeked and smiling and she immediately squirmed her body around inside the nightgown. "I LOVE warm!" she announced and ran off to advise her sister to do the same with her nightgown. She does love to share the wisdom.