Merry Christmas!

We are all packed and ready to go. I even devised a plan where Husband will take the girls with him to fill up the vehicle in the morning while I cram the Loving Dollhouse accessories in and shove Princess videos down stockings.

I'll slurp the chocolate milk (Bella insisted on it for Santa), nibble the carrot and toss the cookies back into the jar.

Then we're off on a four hour journey to my parents'. I'm very excited to see my family yet dreading the drive. This time I was super smart and put Bella's potty in the back because there's no "just in case" when we travel. It is more like "inevitable pee panic" and I don't feel like holding her naked behind out over the grassy knoll just to be splashed anyway.

No trip begins without a Starbucks fix. Tall, non-fat Peppermint mocha. Thank you, weird Bleached Bangs Girl in the window as you complain to your BFF, Gay Guy, about the previous night's boring party. No, I do not want a 350 calorie piece of lemon pound cake. Today.

On we go to visit, laugh, play and rip into gifts with our family. First mine, then Husband's. He gets irritated that I separate the families out like that but how else do you explain it without sounding confused? We're going to visit my family and then my family.

I hope you all enjoy your families, however many or whoever's they are.

Merry Christmas and I hope to read all about YOURS soon!

Tiny Teachers

I have a very strong conviction to teach my children to accept diversity in this shrinking world. While I may not know the details of how or what I'll teach them, I feel it is important for my kids to be socially educated, compassionate and empathetic. Of course there are moral limitations and I'm still trying to define what those should be as my children grow.

Sometimes kids turn the tables and teach us instead.

I took Bella to an indoor playground last week after school. We arrived about the same time as two other little girls about her age.

One girl was named Kylie and she was African American. The other little girl looked as if her face had been beat up by concrete with cuts all over, swollen eye, nose and lip. Her name was Sarah.

Bella doesn't have many African American girls in her school, I'm not sure why. She hardly ever sees children with injuries or disabilities (I had to double-take with Sarah because I first thought she had a facial deformity).

But after formally introducing themselves and giving each other the once over, the girls gleefully ran off towards the slide, chatting non-stop.

The discussion?

How they got out of their mommy's tummy. A universal topic.

None of the girls pointed out each other's differences or even Sarah's poor beat-up little face. There was no staring or grimacing. There was immediate acceptance and willingness to be best friends for the 15 minutes we were there. They hugged, held hands, cooed over Ava and told silly secrets.

It was wonderful to see and I was proud of all three girls. I know social exchanges won't always be so pleasant or without judgement, but I hope I can teach my girls to always be kind, think before they speak and not stare at those who may be different from them. Then again, they will probably learn more by example and that is the most important lesson of all. For all of us parents.

What Kind of Friendship IS THIS?

Thanksgiving weekend, my sister Amanda and her family drove two hours to spend the day with my little family and my inlaws. Not only is THAT sweet, she also brought four starter kits for Amish Friendship bread.

I know. She's amazing.

I rarely bake. It requires precision and patience, both of which I'm lacking. But because she brought me the generous gift, I decided to go for it. I read the directions which called for mushing the bag every day for 10 days, but on the 6th day in, I'm supposed to add a crapload of ingredients before the daily bag mushing.

I opened the bag and...

Oh! *gag*

Gaw! *eyes tearing up*

I had to ask Amanda if this was actually moonshine bread because I'm pretty sure at this point it would explain her 2 year old's love of the stuff.

After that nice whiff, I spent the next four days grimmacing at the fermenting goop in a bag on my counter.

I came thisclose to tossing the bag out on day 10. But I knew that I couldn't lie to Amanda about a bread I never baked. So I followed the rest of the directions which basically told me to separate into 4 more starter kits. Out of love for others, I chunked that.

I did, however, make one batch of the BEST BREAD EVER! Wow. My kids loved it and we polished off the two loaves in less than a week!

All of that painstaking mushing and grossing out taught me a valuable lesson. Well, besides having a little more faith in my sister's love for me.

It made me remember that not everything in life is as it first appears to be. Often a bit more time must go by and with a few changes, what seemed awful can turn into something wonderful and unexpected.

Yeah. Check out the deep thought. I have no voice (oh, the kids LOVE it) but I've still got random thinking going for me.

Help. Me.

So Bella was supposed to be taking a nap, or "resting" as she calls it, and as I'm just about to sip on some nice hot tea, she comes into the room, tears streaming down her face.

Me: Honey, what on Earth is wrong?!

Bella *sobbing*: I can't sleep because my hair isn't curly!

And she hands me the hair gel.

Oh, yes. Vanity has arrived. For the past two weeks, she's obsessed about her curly hair. It is no wonder though because everyone and their Grandma comments on how pretty she and her curls are every time we leave our home!

I think the whole pretend beauty shop ploy to get her to wash her hair has backfired on me.

She's Still Baby Ava

As Ava nears 14 months old, I'm asked increasingly when I will stop nursing her. Honestly, it depends on the day I'm asked what my answer will be.

Ideally, I'd like to nurse her as long as I did Bella which was 19 1/2 months (that 1/2 definitely counts!). However, she only quit nursing because I was pregnant with Ava and apparently the hormones changed the flavor...or something like that.

I have no intention whatsoever of getting pregnant again and because Ava hasn't weaned herself yet, I see no end in sight. She used to just yank my shirt up but at least now she just gives the ol' boobie a nice pat when she's ready to snack.

If it weren't for the night nursing, I"d keep going until she weaned herself. Yet at 3am when she's hollering from her crib and claws at me like a starving bear cub, I grit my teeth a bit.

By morning, though, when she's had a breakfast from something other than me and is happily ignoring me, I crave the bond of breastfeeding.

Never fear, she comes patting for a snack around lunch time. And then I can hold her sweet little body close to me, watch her watching me with a grin and I'm in that moment that makes nursing so extraordinary.

Until she starts her breastfeeding gymnastics. The child can stand, twist, turn, giggle, babble, play with a toy and still never lose her latch-on. Remarkable, really. For ME! :)

For now, we continue on with the plan to let Ava wean herself. I'm sure it is more about my need to hang on to her babyness than it is for her to need to nurse.

They truly are babies for such an incredibly short period of time!

WWYD?

So Bella missed school Tuesday due to a hacking cough followed by phlegm (or as she put it, she "thowed up and swallowed it").

Guess I didn't feel bad for children outside of her class because we went to Target and then a super happy place for chicken nuggets and indoor playground.

My girls are wonderfully behaved while munching on their lunch as I survey the room. A family in front of us, also wonderfully behaved munching their food. A family across the room where the mother is yapping on her phone, her 2 year old is harassing the newborn, and the tag-along friend is in fa-la land with her fries.

Then the 2 year old bolts across the room towards the family in front of me. He STEALS a nugget right off one of the kid's trays. He begins to reach for some fries and Tag-Along decides to clue in and retrieve him.

Not 5 minutes later, he beelines for our table. I never touch him but I definitely told him "NO!" with emphasis on the N and the O. He grabs for whatever he can, then settles on a tug-of-war with me over Ava's chair. Now the mother, never getting of the phone, gives me a sorry "oh, sorry" and drags him off.

My kids go play. I protect Ava from Tiny Terror which bores him, so instead, he steals Bella's shoe and runs all around like a crazed maniac. I'm seething now and just as the mother grabs the shoe and brings it to me (STILL ON THE FRIGGIN PHONE) the goblin posing as a child tackles Isabella!

God bless Bella, she cried out "Why is my new friend pulling me down?"

Rather than get arrested for beating up a mother, I packed up my kids and we left.

I'm not a confrontational person, especially with strangers, because I get all red-faced, shaky and idiotic. However, when it comes to my children I get darn closer to bravery!

What would you have done?

Holiday Cheer

Silly me. I thought I'd dress the girls up in really cute, wintery nightgowns and they would show their love for each other (or at least the camera) for Christmas pictures.

So Much For That Job Interview

Being the good, dutiful wife that I am occasionally, I was washing hubby's dress shirts for the following work week.

I open the washer, pull out the shirts and...PLOP.

I look to my right and there perched on the edge of the washer is a very clean, very dead, 3" long gecko.

I nearly threw up all over those shirts.

Oh, and a giant Chimpanzee nearly scarred my daughter for life by getting in a fight with another one, then slamming into the glass window she was peering into while learning all about awesome nature.

How was your weekend?

Once Uponsa Time

"There was a beeooooooootiful princess named...Awowa. But the mean, um..."

*whispers behind her hand* "Mommy, what is the mean lady's name?"

"Oh, yes...the mean lady, Malificent, didn't like Awowa. She was jealous and it isn't nice to be jealous!"

*frowning* "So mean Malificent tricked Awowa to touch the noodle at the top of the stairs and all the land fell fast asleep."

"The prince heard about the beeoooooootiful princess and fought the dragon" *She stabs around with an air sword*

"And the dragon got dead and flew far away! The Prince kissed Awowa and all the kingdom woke up and they got married! *she says this part really fast and nearly breathless*

Be Friend. *she bows her head in appreciation for the applause she's about to receive*


Yes, she ends stories with "Be Friend", how cute is THAT? I love LOVE that Bella tells us stories now. Watching her pull stories together from what she's heard or seen and how animated she becomes during her story-telling is a delightful peek into her imagination. *sigh* So blessed...

Scary As Can Be

Halloween at our house was good fun. I mean that with the slightest sarcasm.

Waiting an entire day to put on a cute costume to go collect candy from people who tell you how adorable you are is pure torture for a kid. By the time Daddy came home, Bella had already wiped off her rosy cheeks and yanked out her bow, Ava had a run in her pantyhose (get used to it, love) and her nose was green slime. The whining had nearly driven Mommy over the edge as she was beginning the sick day from hell.

However, once we showed up at the fall festival (I think it is so silly that this is the new Christian "PC" for Halloween) and saw all the fairies, princesses, goblins and an entire family of The Incredible (seriously. How cute is that?) Bella and Ava both lit up with excitement.

We ate, we walked, Bella jumped in the bounce houses, exiting them as only a princess could.

Ava walked and ran everywhere. Yes, ran, at least as much as pudgy tiny legs can muster up. I envisioned her face planting in the asphalt as she decided to test her new skill, in new shoes and a fluffy costume. My heart couldn't keep functioning in my throat so we distracted her with a brain-rattling carnie train ride.

It really was a fun family night watching the girls enjoy themselves so much. Then with amazement as our three year old ran like a freight train fueled by pure fructose until she crashed into a cotton pillow wall. First thing she asked for the next morning? Candy, of course.

How was your Halloween, or, Fall Festival?

Tub Talk

"Look, Mama, I have a tail!" *splish splash*

She pretends to look sad, eyes downcast.

"I wish I was a yuman."

A human?

"Yes. I wish I was a yuman so I could marry my guy."

I don't say anything, I just keep scrubbing her down, probably a little too vigorously.

"Alls I have is this tail. I have two arms, a tummy and seashells on my boobies. See?"

"But (again with the downcast eyes) I wish I was a yuman like my guy. Papa told me not to go to the Seawitch but I did'n listen. Papa wants me to stay with him and my sistuhs but I need my man so I need legs."

A dramatic sigh as she splish-splashed some more.

Rather than throw up on us both, I silently curse Disney and offer to wash her hair in the pretend beauty salon, complete with Marge the Hairdresser. When that distraction failed, I dangled the promise of a popsicle if we ended this episode of Mermaid Angst immediately.

Sugar overrules a guy any day when you are three.

67 Days, 1597 Hours, 95824 Minutes..now 95823 Minutes..

...'till Christmas.

Last year was a nightmare trying to shop with two babies. I can only imagine the hellish adventure this year with a very verbal 3 year old and fidgety one year old who wants to roam the aisles (Roam. HA. Try run) rather than sit in the cart.

And because I am SOOOO smart n' savvy, I am doing most of my shopping online. It is fantastic. Some stores offer free shipping, some $5 across the board, others have online specials. It is very fun and I can load up the virtual cart, change my mind five times, then order!

However, it appears that I've forgotten who I am.

Yesterday, one of my husband's gifts arrived. I diligently put it in the Christmas gift box hidden somewhere in my house.

On the way home for dinner, we're just chatting about our day and the upcoming week. Out of nowhere, I change the subject and blurt: So do you want your Christmas present now?

Him: Um, what?

Me: Well DO YOU?

Him: Sure, is it shoes?

Me: YES

Him: Dress shoes?

Me: Eh...no. Shoes? Pshaw. What shoes? I haven't gotten you anything yet. Quit pestering me! Christmas is still two months away!

In my opinion, he stared at me a little too long for a person who's driving a small tank.

Head On! Apply Directly To The Forehead. Head On!

I'm kidding. This is not a commercial for Head On!

Actually I want to answer Dr. J's question about feverfew. My husband gets seasonal migraines and suffered for years because Excedrin and Tylenol don't work. The migraines would be so bad he could hardly function at work. It was awful and broke my heart to see him go through each attack.

Then a long-time trusted family doctor suggested he try feverfew rather than a prescription that could lead to issues with high blood pressure.

Feverfew, High-Parthenolide, commonly known as Bachelor's Buttons, contains niacin and iron and provides nutrition to the central nervous system. This herb offers nutritional support for migraine headaches. High-Parthenolide Feverfew delivers 500 mcg of parthenolide in a total of 212 mg of feverfew--from a specially grown "high parthenolide" feverfew leaf--per capsule. Parthenolides are sesquiterpene lactones, the major dietary components of feverfew.

These have saved his life and if that seems too dramatic then it definitely saved his sanity! He starts taking feverfew late summer and continues on through spring. It takes about a month for the feverfew to really be effective and that's why he begins taking it before fall starts.

Of course no woman should take this if she's pregnant or nursing. And I highly recommend the pills with the crushed feverfew leaves as opposed to feverfew free leaves for tea. Unless you like the taste of dirt and bark, then more power to you :)

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Thank you everyone for all the advice and thoughts on organics! I definitely have to continue my research, especially on those items like milk that we use every day. Silly me thinking I could trust companies to just do the right thing :)

It Ain't Easy Being Green

It started with recycling. Hubby began insisting on recycling about three years ago and I think we're pretty darn good at it.

He buys organic feverfew for migraines (works like a champ!) and organic lotions/deoderants. He tried just baby talc but let me just say that we live in Texas so talc and my nostrils are not man enough for his pits in 100 degree heat.

Then after Bella was born, I made the decision to buy only organic milk and then all organic dairy. Easy enough and makes perfect sense for a baby's body, right? Now if I was a even better mama, we'd be doing goat's milk and not cow but I'm not there yet.

Today we spent a eye-popping amount of money on all organic foods at Whole Foods. And it isn't that it all costs so much more than "conventional foods", just that the additional dollar or two more per item for being organically grown adds up quickly!

There's the argument that studies have shown no advantage to buying organic. I disagree. My husband's family elders grow most of their food or buy it locally from other farmers and they are very healthy, active 80 and 90-somethings. Even with his grandfather smoking like a freight train and drinking more than a brewery can churn out in a day, he still works from 4am to 5pm (okay, with a couple of naps sneaking in).

My husband and I have decided to make some lifestyle changes. We are stepping away from processed foods. Slowly. Gotta give ourselves some time to recover from the lack of instant gratification that comes from boxed cookies or potato chips.

We are committed to eating organic, whole foods. We are going to even switch to more "green" housecleaning products. We plan to grow our own herbs, which we attempted a few years ago until the cilantro went nuts and ended up 4 feet tall with flowers all over. Pretty but not tasty.

I used to make fun of those hippies eating organic but it seems so logical now. We aren't going vegetarian because we don't mind a nice juicy steak. However, we do require that lovely cow be fed grass and not grain.

Sure, there's hype and it is deemed trendy to be organic. Yet it is going back to the basics. Simplifying the human diet as it should be. Will we be healthier? I can't see how we wouldn't be.

Will we be broke? Eh, check back with me on that.

What's Mine Is Mine, What's Hers Is Mine.

Love is patient and love is kind. Unless you are three and one.

Ava had a fun birthday party on Saturday, complete with balloons, birthday cake and sugar rushes. Bella had a great time trying on all of Ava's new clothes and playing with her new toys.

We've officially begun the lifelong journey of learning to share.

Being a firstborn, I try hard to keep in mind what it's like, rather than get completely frustrated, when Bella kicks her little sister out of her room. Or yells at the 21-pounder for wallowing all over her before she's had her wake-up milk.

Explaining repeatedly that Ava gets first dibs on her own toys or that Bella has to share HER toys within reason is exhausting. Bella simply sees no reason for either.

Beyond sharing things, I work daily to share myself with the girls. I have to remind myself of the emotions that come with being the oldest. There are more expectations with the older child which can result in frustration and jealousy of the little one being canoodled while big sis has to fend for herself more. The balance of teaching Isabella independence yet allowing her to be snuggly and needful is very important to me. And her.

So that brings me to my questions:

What rank, if any, are you in the sibling order?

What have you liked most and least about your place in the birth line?

What, if anything, do you wish your parent(s) had done differently with you and/or your siblings?

Did your parent(s) do anything special just for you?

My husband is an only child and the addition of Ava to the family has already been an eye-opening, amazing experience for him. There's no such thing as a perfect parent, but we strive to be good parents. Our goal is to raise healthy, happy, kind and giving children. The dramatic flair both girls possess is just pink icing on the cake!

One Year Today

Dear Birthday Girl,

I can't believe we've already had your sweetness for a year!

You are the light of your sister's life. Isabella adores you and loves being your big sister.

You grew from tiny peanut to sittin pretty and before we knew it...

you were climbing into and out of trouble.

However darling you may be, dear Ava,

Willie still doesn't like his ears tugged.

Your smiles, your giggles, the way you cuddle with one arm curled tightly around my neck. How you suck your finger and thumb till they are raw. The way you look at us with a sparkle in your eye just before going off on another adventure, certain to result in shredded paper or half-eaten crayons/playdoh/books.

How your precious nose wrinkles when you are frustrated or simply want to hear yourself breath funny. The way you plink on the piano so proudly while standing on tippy-toe. Or hold a fresh diaper under your naked behind and squat on it as if to help me out. And those sweet, wet baby kisses at bedtime.

Ava Elizabeth, we love and cherish everything about you. Thank you for enriching all our lives.

Love,

Mama, Daddy and Bella

Happy Birthday, Ladybug!!

21 lbs, 30 in
Perfect in every way :)

Puff Jenny

Yesterday, during a wonderful performance of

Something Imaginary by Isabella,

a cute little bumblebee maraca flew into my face.

This morning, the teacher got a sobbing,

wailing, oops-she-peed-on-the-floor-so-sorry Bella

plus her mother looking like this:

I'm wondering if Ms Woodsen will ask Bella later

today what happened to her mama or

if she'll just conclude that we are fully dysfunctional.

**UPDATE**

Nobody told me that two days later it

would hurt like a mofo and look like this!

I know, I know. POOR ME!

Gonna Eat Alotta Peaches

So we went to the country this weekend. We've been going alot lately because my husband's 82 year old grandmother had back surgery and needed help around the house while she healed.

I love the country. In theory.

The clean, crisp morning air. The soothing sound of the tree leaves rustling in the gentle breeze as I sit on the porch swing with my littlest one before everyone else awakes for the day. Fresh garden vegetables and Granny's famous homemade jelly on her superb buttermilk biscuits.

Then I look over to my left and there's a huge spider. I hate spiders. My skin starts to crawl and I get the uncontrollable willies.

I look behind me and there's the world's most GIANT FREAKIN SPIDER. It is white with brown and black stripes. It's body is at least the size of a large marble. It's legs are a good two inches long. Yes, in the milli-second that I saw that spider and went into willies convulsions, that is what seared into my brain.

The rest of the weekend I was on spider patrol. It didn't help much when Bella woke up and said she saw a big BIG spider in the sky when she looked out the window.

It appears I've passed on this unfortunate reaction to God's gross creatures to my oldest daughter. She doesn't reserve the willies just for spiders. It also applies to grasshoppers. Like the one in Granny's kitchen we were all cooing over and having a great nature moment with. Until it jumped on her.

Isabella immediately screamed in sheer horror, began running in place and the willies overtook her tiny body. Everyone at the table stiffled their laughter but I immediately understood her reaction and held her close to me, trying to calm her and convince her the grasshopper just wanted to say hello.

Her hero, Daddy, captured the grasshopper in his hand and together they walked outside to set him free.

Bella had a good five minute conversation with the grasshopper no longer in her personal space way out there in the field.

"Goodbye, Mr Grasshopper! Your family is waiting for you! Eat a good breakfast! I hope to see you next time but don't jump on me, ohay, Mr. Grasshopper?"

Schoolyard Brawl - Toddler Style

Bella has an ongoing issue with a little girl she calls "Mad Girl."

It started when the little girl was swinging (don't these things always start over a swing?) and Bella wanted a turn. Now, granted, I am getting Bella's version of this which makes her out to be the kind, generous playground angel.

Bella says she asked the girl if she could swing, the girl said "No!" and pushed her. With her feet. While swinging. Sounds to me like Bella was standing in front of her and just happened to be in the way of simple swinging procedure preceded by an emphatic "No!" to her request.

However, Bella has since called her Mad Girl. She mentions her every day that she's gone to the playground.

Yesterday, she said that she yelled at Mad Girl. I asked what was said.

"I told her she's not friendly and I AM FRIENDLY!"

We apparently have to work on tone and delivery when one is supposed to be more friendly than her opponent.

I find it very interesting that, like her mother, early on Bella prefers friendships with boys as opposed to girls. She says her best friends are Mitchell and Gavin. She does have a little friend and cousins who are girls but for some reason at school she has boy pals. And what's funny is that everything about Bella screams Uber Girly! The apple didn't fall far from that tree.

I'm just trying to find enough excuses to beg out of another Girls Night Out tomorrow evening.

I am friendlier than YOU!!!

Conversations with a 3 Year Old

Bella's peering behind the couch and I hear a muffled question, "Mama, how did that big bug fly back here?"

I tell her that I have no idea. She stares at it some more then says, "I think it went to heaven. That means it got dead."

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Tuesday Bella was a very big girl and stayed for lunch as well as naptime on the condition that she would NOT have to actually sleep.

When I got there to pick her up, they of course had to wake her.

On the way home she was very excited to talk about her day, announcing proudly, "And I laid there but I DIDN'T SLEEP!"

Okey-doke, pumpkin. You really showed us.

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Bella's going to a Christian school and unfortunately, she refuses to sing "Jesus Loves Me" correctly, thanks to a little doll from China that sings it like a valley girl.

Her version? Jesus loves her because the bottle tells her SOooOooOoo.

I may get an eyebrow raised from the teacher on that one.

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While traveling to the country, we got pulled over for speeding on the highway. As I was giving my best annoyed eye roll to hubby, Bella was evaluating the situation.

"Daddy, it is NOT very safe for that man to stand in the street!"

Hubby agreed and explained that he was driving too fast and the police officer just wanted to tell him to slow down.

Bella pondered that for about a nano-second, then said, "Well, it still isn't very safe to stand in the street. Will you tell him?"

Eh. No. We're just going to take our ticket and go about our merry slow way.

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Ahhhh...the wonderful world of three.

Never lacking in imagination or drama.