I might be drawing a blank, but someone else wrote something funny

Hysterical Daddy blog post: What We Can Know

Happy reading. Hope to be back with something original very soon.

Scenes from a busy week

Please excuse the recent lag in posting. I've been busy watching my babies grow up. It's been a big week in our household and I believe I've uttered the phrase "I'm so proud of you!" more in seven days than I have in the past year, and I've meant it every single time. The words seem so small next to the sight of one's child overcoming a fear or bursting with new confidence, but other than hugs and high-fives it was the best I could do.

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On day three of soccer camp Anna was lined up with four or five other kids awaiting instructions for the next game. Her counselor was looking the other way consulting another counselor when the two slightly older boys standing next to Anna turned her way. One them suddenly reached out and knocked her ball out of her hand and then the other one kicked it away. I could see that they weren't malicious, they were just bored and they didn't really mean any harm but I watched Anna's confused face. I waited for her to say something but she just stood there glaring at them. Her counselor then directed the kids to another part of the field and I saw her bend down to listen to Anna, who told her "I just want my ball back." Having not seen the incident the counselor simply assured her that she didn't need her ball for this next activity and so Anna shook it off and followed her counselor. It wasn't until that moment that I realized two things: one, I had stood up out of my seat and taken several steps toward the field. Two, she had never once looked my way. I had to take a deep breath before I returned to my seat.

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On Wednesday Rachel asked for Grandma to take her to ballet and my mom obliged. After the previous week's debacle of clingy tears I gladly gave in, hoping that Rachel would be more likely to participate if I wasn't there to hang onto. I waited at the soccer field watching Anna and when I saw Rachel return I knew there had been some level of success. She strutted down the hill in her favorite purple dress, a huge smile appearing under her pink flowered hat and sparkly Dora sunglasses. "I did it Mommy!" she announced proudly. "I was brave."

A few minutes later Anna had a water break and she ran over to see if Rachel had a good ballet class. Rachel was so proud to report to her big sister and when it was time for Anna to go back on the field she gave Rachel a hug. "Good job, Rachel!" "Thank you Anna."

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Thursday evening when Dan got home from work we gathered around the computer to look at some videos I had taken of Anna in action. One video was her first scrimmage against a boy eventually won the point. We gushed to her about how much she'd improved since the beginning of the week as she and Rachel fought for position on Dan's lap in front of the monitor. The fight escalated until Dan had to intervene and when Anna wanted to storm upstairs to her room (something she very rarely does) I pulled her into the kitchen instead for a talk. When I asked why she was so upset she told me: "Rachel won't let me look at the pictures. Daddy yelled at me. That boy took the ball from me."

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Saturday afternoon and it's raining outside. Leotards and soccer socks are overflowing from laundry baskets and I have no food left in the kitchen because the girls have EATEN IT ALL. Anna lies on the couch with her feet up on the back where Tiger is dozing. She rubs her feet along his fur and he purrs in response. Rachel is curled up in her "little spot," a small ottoman next to my chair where her red curls spill over the edge and almost reach the floor. Thumbs are in mouths and eyelids are drooping. My girls haven't napped regularly since December but it is clear the week has taken its toll. But Anna has one more thing to say before she drifts off. "Mommy? This was the best week ever." I smile and cannot disagree.

I'm just going to say it

Man do I love this kid.



Anna's week-long soccer camp started today. On the way to the field she announced that her tummy was so excited and wondered aloud whether any of the other soccer kids would have pink socks. When we arrived she grabbed her ball and went flying down the hill toward her group, letting out an ecstatic shriek as she blew right by the line of teenage counselors waiting to greet her and headed straight for the group of kids at midfield getting started.



My big girl spent three hours running, dribbling, kicking and working in the occasional hug during water breaks. She did it all with a confidence and unbridled enthusiasm that just floored me.



We definitely got our money's worth with this one, the girl was completely worn out by the end of the morning.



At home she begged to keep on her cleats and spent a good hour showing her grandma what she learned. She can't wait to go back tomorrow. "I just love soccer, Mom!" she explains.

A bonus of sorts

I just realized how massive my previous post ended up being so I thought I'd reward my precious readers with some cuteness. Specifically, a picture of my girls at gymnastics, posing in their cute little outfits. Taken with my Crackberry. Possibly uploaded to Facebook while I was seated near the soda machines. Shut up. Aren't they cute?

Adventures in summer activities

My first ever children's summer activity season is currently in full swing and I'm not sure who has been getting the wilder ride, me or the girls. Aside from a drawing class that Anna took last summer neither of the girls has ever participated in any organized activities, but this summer I was determined to keep them busy. And what better way to ensure they stay active than by assigning that task to someone else? Here you go Coach, exercise my child for me. I'll be sitting over there by the soda machine with my Crackberry uploading pictures of my kids in their cute little uniforms to Facebook.

My girls and I discussed their interests and I researched our options. After explaining to Anna that there were sadly no whale training courses for four-year-olds in central Ohio we settled on gymnastics, ballet and soccer. We paid the registration fees, bought the supplies (ok we still need soccer shoes but I swear we are getting them tomorrow), signed the releases and pulled our girls off the walls they were climbing in excitement.

The girls were excited for obvious reasons; my reasons were a little more complicated. Lately I've been worried my staying home with the girls has caused them to become overly clingy. Just a few weeks ago Anna called me to come pick her up from an overnight at Grandma's house, something that had never happened before. She can be quite outgoing if I'm nearby but she still stops whatever she's doing several times a day just to come get cuddles from Mommy and often follows me from room to room because in her words, she wants me.

Of course as soon as I start worrying about Anna, Rachel prances in and steals the mommy anxiety show. Sometimes Rachel does such a good job of keeping up with her sister that I forget she's only three. She wants so badly to get out there and do new things, she just wants me to hold her hand while she does it. Literally. While Anna takes to the gym like a fish to water, Rachel clings, she tears up, she goes in to try to participate, sometimes she retreats again, sometimes she actually starts to cry. And I sit there, cheering, encouraging, stifling my occasional urge to roll my eyes or even to scoop her up and leave and try again next season. It doesn't seem to matter how many other kids are doing the same thing, I can't help but worry that my child just isn't ready and it's somehow my fault that she isn't more independent in these situations.

Our third gymnastics session was this afternoon and the whole way there Rachel told me she was going to be brave and let me sit with the other parents behind the glass (as opposed to inside the gym close to whatever equipment she was on at any given moment). She repeated the promise to her instructor once we arrived. When class started though she insisted that I come inside again. I sighed but I went in and spent the first three minutes inching farther and farther away from her and even though she kept sneaking glances back at me, she was also smiling.

Finally I was sitting against the wall by the door and before I knew it she was racing across the gym in the opposite direction and lining up for her next activity. I watched as she climbed, balanced, rolled, swung and even interacted with the other little girls. Anna was sitting next to me waiting for her class to begin and she was just as proud of her sister as I was. At one point Rachel climbed up onto the parallel bars she had refused to touch during her first class and scampered across them as instructed. When she was done she called across the room to me and blew me a kiss. I blew one back at my sweet girl as Anna leaned over and told me "your child is really doing it!"

Perhaps not doing as much damage as I thought

Last week I had a bad day. The kind of day where the first thought I had upon gaining consciousness was why does she have to yell directly into my ear every. single. morning? I have no idea why my default mood was "crabby" that day. I am sure I could set forth several plausible theories: hormones, stress, bad night's sleep, the pollen count, itchy socks, the economy. But really it was just me having a cranky day and I could not shake it. Needless to say the first two hours of life with Mommy was basically a drag for my girls. I was much too intolerant of their usual breakfast table shenanigans and I raised my voice at them more than once. Suffice it to say the fuse was short.

As my mood inevitably started to wear off on the girls I turned my nastiness inward and started to guilt myself about the damage I was doing to my children like, right now. Damaging their poor little psyches and probably dooming their future relationships with my emotionally unbalanced outbursts. Just as I felt tears welling up Anna called across the room to me that she was going to draw a picture. I thought nothing of the announcement, Anna draws constantly.

A few minutes later she appeared with a colored pencil portrait of me, wearing exactly what I had on at the moment. In the picture, I was smiling. "Am I happy?" I asked Anna. "Of course you are, my little Poochie" she answered, using a pet name she's come up with recently. I let out a breath and watched my undamaged and totally not-doomed child go back to her sketch pad. She had just redeemed herself for the ear yelling.

Birthday party or torture session? You be the judge.

I've mentioned before that Anna loves older girls. This love borders on obsession and if she so much as hears a female voice outside she immediately plasters herself to a window to inspect the situation. Who is out there? Is it a girl? Is she big? Is she (hold breath)... six? Luckily for her we live on a cul-du-sac populated with girls. Next door alone are three of them ages 8 through 12, all blond and athletic and amazingly tolerant of Anna's attention. Across the court is another junior high school aged girl and next door to her, on the corner lives Lydia! In my mind her name contains an exclamation point because that is always how Anna says it. Actually it should be spelled *gasp*Lydia! but I am much too lazy to type all of that out just for sake of accurately depicting my child's insanity. But I digress.

Lydia! just turned seven and her birthday party was yesterday. We had gorgeous weather and as Lydia! has a pool in her backyard there were lots of kids running around in their bathing suits as they got their sugar highs on. At 1:00 pm sharp we grabbed Lydia!'s gift and headed across the street as the girls marveled at the unicorn pinata hanging from a tree. I thought Rachel's head was going to explode when she spotted the rented cotton candy and sno cone machines sitting under a tent in the front yard. "Mommy," she told me, "Lydia's party is sooooo beautiful and exciting." So far, so good.

So far, so good came to a screeching halt as we reached the backyard area and Rachel saw the dogs. Have I mentioned that Rachel is terrified of dogs? I must have left that out of my previous post because the very thought of Rachel in that much fear - irrational though it may be - just makes me a little sad. So there I stand in a festive backyard filled with people I've never met, one child knocking people over to get to her friend and another child wrapping every limb around my body as she screams bloody murder directly into my ear. Hi, nice to meet you. Happy birthday, kid, here's a shrieking three-year-old to help you celebrate.

Smiling in a vague apologetic manner I made my way over to the swingset/play area structure thingy (that IS the proper terminology right?) and set Rachel's tush on the highest spot I could reach so I could begin peeling her off of my body. I should pause here to explain that there were three dogs in the backyard, none of whom paid Rachel even the slightest attention: a tiny white fluff ball of a puppy, a perfectly cheerful floppy-eared spaniel and an ancient hound who barely had the energy to turn around and view the source of this ear-splitting racket. No sooner had I gotten Rachel to quiet down (in other words, whisper about how she didn't want the dogs near her rather than scream it) then the party moved to the front yard.

With a deep breath I gratefully moved out front, where the dogs were not allowed. Rachel's tears were dried and Anna and Lydia! were deep in discussion about the pinata. Two seconds later I look down the street and see a clown is exiting his vehicle. No, Dan was not home from work, this was actually a hired clown in a costume. He was far enough away that I thought I could safely point him out to Rachel and let her warm up to the idea before he was standing right in front of her in full makeup and costume. Rachel took one look and turned into a movie character. Eyes widened, mouth a horrified O, she turned right around and ran screaming for our front door across the court. I had seriously never seen her move that fast.

I spent the rest of the afternoon shuttling back and forth between Rachel in our house and Anna at the party. Rachel would not be convinced to go back and really she had no reason to because Lydia! and Anna made sure Rachel got cake and ice cream, a goody bag, a balloon creation (made by the clown but we didn't mention that) and a portion of the candy from the pinata. Also, the house without Anna? So quiet. And air-conditioned. Rachel is her mommy's daughter - she might have a little anxiety but she's no fool.