Rosie’s turning 3

Happy birthday to Rosie! On Saturday, she’ll be 3.

Rosie is a character.  Today, we shared fruit and a croissant at the Art Café. She sat across from me with her hands folded on her knees, a little smile on her face. “Well,” she said. “This is a lovely snack.”

She chats from morning to night, a steady stream of related and unrelated thoughts: “Last time, it was Halloween at scoowal and I weared my skeleton costume, and Luca said to me, “hey, badoinky face! And I said, that’s silly Luca because he’s my friend and he’s a silly guy!” The story pauses so she can belly laugh, showing those little teeth with the spaces between. “Is that funny?”

Sometimes, Nora laughs with me after Rosie’s long-winded monologues. “Rosie, you’re just so cute, I can’t take it. Oh, Rosie, I just love you. I love you more than infinity!” Other times, she’s not into it. “Rosie! Yesterday wasn’t Halloween! And you weren’t even a skeleton for Halloween!”

Rosie’s favorite game at the moment is: “Can you make this guy talk?” She’s moved on a little bit from pretending that she herself is the character to bringing all of the inanimate object in our house to life. She will hand you anything—a stuffed elephant, a play doh flower, a stick. “Can you make this guy talk, and then I’ll make the other guy talk?” This happens nonstop throughout the day, so when I’m trying to clean the dishes, I’ll try to make the sponge talk. Sometimes this works and sometimes it doesn’t. “No, sit over here, no right heeeare! And you be the Mommy and this guy will be the baby and it will be night night time, okaaay?”

She gets so engrossed in her make pretend, that she never wants to move on from an activity. When we must move on, Rosie freaks out. She can be a dramatic little person, screaming, “No!!!!!” and flopping around. “No, no, no, no, this is not-a-great-day-today.” I have to crawl over and under jungle gyms to retrieve Rosie and carry her, flailing, to the car. This is a challenge. I am trying to figure out how to set the limits for her, to be clear with my expectations, to decide which battles to choose, to know when to distract and when to teach, and to give her opportunities to feel in control. Sometimes, I do these things well, and sometimes, I don’t.

Rosie and Nora fight like sisters do, and it is usually because they would like to play the game in two different ways. Nora is often more logical, possibly because of her age—while she also thrives on make pretend, she likes for the game to be somewhat consistent with reality. “Rosie, if it’s a Zumba class, we don’t wear tutus. Zumba is not ballet.”

“Yes, we do.”

“No we don’t, Rosie!”

“Yes, we do.”

“No. We. Don’t!!!!”

“Yes. We. Do!!!!”

Etc., etc, etc.

I am shocked when they occasionally work it out on their own.

Nora: “Well, I guess you can borrow my pink tutu.”

Rosie in a high voice. “Oooh! That would be so very nice.”

Nora’s big sister voice is funny to me. She sort of drops her chin, lowers her voice and says, “Rosie. That isn’t true. Frogs don’t have wings. They’re amphibians and they live in the water.”

Rosie, usually flitting around the room, humming a little song: “Yes, it is. Because today was my bertday and I said, I’m not eating anything today and you said, oh yes you are! And I’m going to decorate your arm or you will have a time out.”

Nora scoffs, not even looking up from whatever she’s doing: “Rosie. That doesn’t make any sense.”

Oh, they are just so interesting. I’m not always able to appreciate it, because sometimes, I just want them to stop fighting and play nice. Sometimes, I don’t feel like “making this guy talk” because I need to move through the day: give them bath, get them dinner, get Nora in her leotard and tights and get back out the door to dance. We spend a lot of time cleaning, getting them out the door, getting them back in the door and getting them to bed.  It so nice when I’m able to pause, play, and observe them.

That’s why I want to write it all down, so I can have a little distance to sit back and enjoy the moments.  And they’re good at pulling me out of my to-dos to make sure I’m paying attention to their cuteness. Rosie sat next to me at the playground yesterday and said, “Well, it is a beautiful day, today.”

I’m really proud of them, and in awe of how they’re growing.

Happy, happy 3^rd birthday to sweet Rosie!

Thanks for reading!

Shmooples turns 4!

birthday girl!!!!

I can’t believe our Shmooples is turning 4. It’s just crazy. She is a real kid now. She’s beautiful, goofy, full of energy, sensitive, creative, curious, strong-willed, funny and so sweet. We are so thankful for our little monkeys. Happy birthday, beautiful Nora!

Happy birthday, Shmooples!

Happy 2015! I’m so proud of our Shmooples. I can’t believe she’s turning 3. And this will be an exciting year for her, the year she’ll become… a big sister! That’s right. I’m due February 23. I know Nora will be such a great big sister because she has a big, big heart.

What’s Nora talking about these days? Here are a few memorable quotes:

She’s thinking about being a big sister and what it meant to be a baby. “When I was a baby, I growed in Mommy’s belly all the time but I wanted to get out and get older!”

She sometimes pretends to talk on the phone. “It’s Seryn,” she said, holding her hand up. “Oh, you’re painting a picture for me and my baby sister? Oh, that’s very nice!” And then looks at us smiles wide and laughs hysterically at herself.

She likes to say things are “good and pretty and beautiful,” but the context often makes no logical sense. We say, “Don’t touch that piece of trash,” and she says, “but it’s good and pretty and beautiful!” Today, I told her not to touch anything while I was changing her poop. “But it’s beautiful!” she said.

She likes to ask, “Which one?”: “Is that a girl or a boy which one?” “Are we at the city or the zoo which one?” “Is Ian’s party today or last year which one?”

“Today is it my birthday today, or no?”

I like how she asks permission sometimes, “We’ll go home and eat lunch and watch Dora, okay?” “Is that okay?” “Does that sound good?” “Is that a good idea?”

She’s into things being similar and different. She’ll hold up two cars and say, “They match the same!”

She can be very sweet when she wants to. “I’m so glad that you’re here!” “Thank you for coming to see me!” “I’m so glad that you’re playing with me.” “Thank you for changing my diaper!”

I cough and she says “You have to drink more water. It’ll make you feel better.”

She once said to me being affectionate, “Your little nosey. Your cute cheeks. Your arms are beautiful!”

She says “dud” and “dudn’t.” We ask, did you have a nice time at the gym? “I dud, yeah.”

“Sho!” Instead of “sure.”

(Looking at billboards on a drive) “This sign says you have to eat French fries… This one says you have to eat hamburgers and telephones.” (She kind of gets the idea, right?)

“When I was younger I wanted to live in Davis square like you. But where is Davis square now? But I’m in Davis square now.”

“A book will feel me better.”

(Pointing to her stuffed dog): “Yeah that’s my friend Fluffy the Guy.”

Listening to a duet on the radio. “They’re singing together!”

Her teachers joke about her having a boyfriend at school. This older man, Avi (he’s four), loves to chase her and tickle her. We were in the car and I said something about how Avi seems nice. She laughed. “Yeah! I’ll hug him and dance with him and hug him and hold his hand!” At this, Kevin and I looked at each other and started laughing nervously. Think it’s time to sit Avi down and have a talk with him about his intentions?

We are just so proud of Nora. She is such a sweet, special, silly girl. Happy birthday Shmooples!

*

First bite of cake… ever!

Here’s the homemade cake. Daddy did most of the hard work, baking until 2am the night before. Mommy did the fun part: decorating the top.

What is this? Can I eat it? Can I put it in my mouth? A little guidance here, please.

Oh, cool. That actually tastes really interesting. Why is that?

Anyway, I don’t know if I’m supposed to be eating this, but I’m certainly not going to stop unless someone tells me to.

I totally just ate that whole thing. And I’m feelin’ it.

Happy birthday, Nora!

Happy birthday, Nora! Thanks for making the last year of our lives so much fun.

A year ago, right about now, we were headed to the hospital. I remember thinking (between contractions) as we headed over the Tappan Zee Bridge, what a beautiful day. Unseasonably warm. Clear blue sky. Pretty Hudson River. And then, of course, I’d have another contraction and think — Ow, ow, ow.

You’re here now, and you’re the best thing that ever happened to us. They say it goes fast, and they’re right. For a nostalgic person like me, parenthood is just a trip. Because just a second ago, you were a newborn. We swaddled you like a little potato and bounced you to sleep on the exercise ball. We couldn’t get you to sleep in the bassinet so we took turns holding you all night. Your little smooshy face, pouty lips. (That’s when you became Shmooples to us. :)) When you sneezed, you’d get your whole body into it. We’d lay you on your back in the activity gym and you’d stare up at the whale, your eyes wide and unfocused. We carried you around in the baby bjorn to get you to fall asleep, you, bundled up in a little bear suit. And we’d walk down to the river and all around. We took long, long walks. Or, we put on some music (a lot of Amos Lee and Wilco) and danced around the family room. Then, you smiled for the first time. Then, you laughed. You rolled over. You started sleeping on your stomach, your butt straight up in the air. You liked to squeal and grunt a lot. We were sometimes worried you were going to swallow a bug because you’d grunt in the stroller, your mouth wide open. You went to the beach and the pool, chubby arms and legs flailing around in the water. You grew two bottom teeth. You tried rice cereal — you didn’t like it at first, so you’d shut your lips and close the shop. You sat up by yourself. You jumped around in the Jumparoo, laughing and squealing with frenetic energy. You started rocking on your hands and knees and then you crawled. You met two dogs (“gungs”) and became fascinated with them, and any creature that was not human was a “gung” or “da.” You pulled yourself to stand. You got two more teeth. And then two more teeth.

When you are happy, you are SO happy. You like to catch strangers’ attention and flash your teeth at them. You get wound up close to bedtime, laughing and kicking on the changing table. When you hear a musical note, whether it’s a jingle in a commercial or Daddy playing a plastic trumpet, you get the urge to boogie. You sometimes look very thoughtful, very serious. You have a lot to say, although we don’t always know yet what you mean. You’ll point to a pillow and say, “Ba ba,” over and over again. You’re sweet, affectionate, curious and very silly. Now, you’re learning to stand on your own. You keep trying and falling, trying and falling, without getting frustrated.

And it goes on and on and on! We’re so proud of you and we can’t wait to see what you do next.

We love you, Shmooples! Happy 1st birthday!

Happy 3 month birthday, Nora bear!