"If you want to view paradise, simply look around and view it."

It is true that I spend just about every waking moment in the presence of my darling two year old daughter.  And even though this is a fact, I don't always see her.  I acknowledge her rude-sounding demands for cheese and juice.  I scold her for putting the cat in a headlock and for scribbling all over my bedsheets with a permanent orange marker.  I scoop her into my arms when things have not gone her way and she collapses in a puddle on the kitchen floor, but I do not, in fact, always see her.

And so today, after multiple attention-seeking, naughty behaviors had irritated me to my core, I looked and found a little person who needed to be seen.  I also found a little person who has suddenly developed a very vivid imagination, and this little person was a rather wonderful companion for the afternoon.

This afternoon I spent a bit of time looking out the window at reindeer.  At first I strained my eyes searching for the actual deer that often trot through our woods, and I could not see them, but Lili insisted, stabbing her impatient index finger at the glass, "A REINDEER!!  A REINDEER!!  It's RIGHT THERE!"  I re-focused, and immediately saw that proud creature pawing at the snowy ground.  Wow.  I was in awe.

Next we fed pretzels and bananas to a small dinosaur and convinced him that it was a good idea to share his snacks and toys.  Then we read and discussed several Charlie and Lola books, played catch with a wadded up Kleenex, and rubbed our heads together as we giggled.  And then the most amazing thing of all happened.  I saw her.  I saw my daughter.  I became conscious of the little girl who is making sense of the world around her and creating even better imaginary worlds in her beautiful little brain.  And I felt moved to say, "Wow!  I really love you, Tyrone!"  since that was the name she insisted upon being called at that moment, "And," I added, "I love the person you are becoming."

So I am grateful that I was able to stop for while today and witness my youngest daughter becoming the next version of herself.  I am glad that I was able to spend some time in her world, which is much more colorful and playful than mine.

 

When the Cat's Away...

...the mouse will eat an entire box of chocolate Nestle Quick.

George and I should know by now that we cannot sneak off to the bedroom to watch some horrible BBC television series without paying a price.  We fool ourselves into a false sense of security by assuming that the big sisters are keeping a watchful eye on Thing 3, but there is always that moment when we look at each other and know that somewhere in the house, something naughty is happening.

We both really tried to keep stern, disapproving looks our our faces as we marched her into the bathroom where she would be posing for the newest photos to go into "The Naughty Book," but keeping a serious face is rather impossible when THIS is looking back at you...

"CHEESE!  Put ME in the Naughty Book!"

Mission Impossible?

I hope you are not too disappointed in me.  I am simply not finding the time to sit down and write about all of the tantrums and growth spurts that are happening around  here.  To borrow a phrase, I keep 'waiting to exhale.'  Before we had our third baby, it seemed that I had ample time for breaths in and out, for writing, and for reading the most ridiculous variety of novels you can imagine.

But here I find myself, occasionally relaxing, but knowing that while I laze, I am letting something slide.  While I was sipping tea and composing that email in which I reminisced about my 11th grade prom dress, my two year old was pulling all of the shoes out of my closet and filling them with fistfuls of cat food.  It can also be argued that my time would have been better spent changing the sheets after some child ate a sleeve of crackers (apparently using half of them to make confetti) in my bed.  If I were to only write or relax when there was nothing more sensible to do, then there would be no time for any foolishness.  Ever.  I have convinced myself that this is true even though I know that a better time manager could probably sort my life out for me.  An accomplished time manager is simply not who I am.  I like to think that I traded organization and time management skills for other gifts.

There is another thing that has gotten considerably more difficult since we brought our third kid home from the hospital.  We are finding it impossible to appropriately entertain all of our children at once.  The things that are fun for a two year old are NOT the same things that are fun for a seven or nine year old.  I realized recently that 99% of the time when we are deciding on an activity, the 2 year old at our house wins (because she is the biggest pain when she's unhappy).  Of course this is completely unfair.

A couple of weeks ago, we called our faithful babysitter and had a night out with just our two big kids.  Wow!  That was nice.  We realized that, since their little sister can't roller skate, handle a bowling ball without injuring someone, or sit through a movie, our big kids were missing out a lot. So... a somewhat regularly scheduled "Big Kid Date Night" has been added to our list of priorities.

Today, however, there was lots of snow on the ground, and we were sure sledding down the big hill was one of those rare active outings that the whole family could enjoy together.  With some effort, we all bundled up in waterproof, woolly gear and headed for the hill.  We did not anticipate this on the three minute drive...

Still we were not deterred; we literally dragged that little girl up the hill were she slept out in the cold, fresh air for about 45 minutes.  We took turns sledding and standing guard over our baby.

Finally she did wake up and enjoy the scenery.

She even had a go sledding with her Dad.  (Everyone knows that Mom would not have been an appropriate sledding partner for Lili since Mom screams ridiculously all the way down the hill.  It's one of the things they all love about Mom even though they never admit it.)

It turned out that Lili wasn't terribly impressed with the sledding and the cold.  After two trips down the hill and some animated chatting with a shivering bulldog pup, Lili was ever so ready to go home.  Even though her mama was holding her, she howled repeatedly, "I WANT MAMA!!" all the way back to the car.

We counted the afternoon an overall success.  4/5 of us had a really lovely time, and we all agreed: sometimes it's okay if the 2 year old doesn't win.

Woman Cave

It goes without saying that I love my children and my husband.  I love sticky kisses and outstretched arms.  I love nursery songs sung by little, frolicsome voices and imaginary play with animal noises.  I love dancing and joke-telling and hearing about every one's day.  

I love all of these things, but...

I also really love silence and solitude.

Silence and solitude are not easy things to come by in a house full of children.  The need for these sneaked up on me recently.  It manifested itself through impatient replies, short tempered reactions, and feelings of angst when children plopped their needy little bodies onto my lap.

Over the weekend when everyone had settled in to watch a movie together, I slunk away to waste my time looking at crock pot recipes and other nonsense on the Internet for an hour.  I stared at my computer's screen with glazed eyes and allowed the silence in the room to saturate me.  I sat in my chair and contentedly relished the fact that absolutely no one was touching me for an entire hour.

When the movie was over, I managed to smile at everyone and wish them a good night and sweet dreams.  I then told my husband that I would be sleeping in the guest room by myself that night.  He looked puzzled.  I assured him, "It's nothing to do with you.  I just need some silence and stillness."

"I'm just planning to go right to sleep," he offered.

"Yes, but you'll be breathing."  I answered, displaying the most pleasant countenance I could manage.

Men aren't the only ones who need a metaphorical "cave" for occasional escapes.  I've been thinking, after enjoying my solo night, that perhaps I need a Woman Cave, a quiet and comfortable spot with flowers and candles and books.  No kids or adorable husbands allowed.  A wise Mommy friend suggested that all moms need a full night away once a month.  I like this idea a lot, and while I doubt I will make it happen once a month, I do hope to listen a little more closely to my inner-introvert and indulge her need for solitude a little more often.

Who's with me?

...And a Happy New Year!

Things got pretty wild at our house as we rang in the new year.  As usual Emma couldn't hold her drink, and Lili wound up dancing naked on the kitchen table.  Or perhaps we just put Lili to bed and watched Pirates of the Caribbean followed by Downton Abbey until 1am.

George has been, unfortunately, rather ill for the last few days.  He is finally feeling better today, so we toasted the new year with some of Meijer's best sparkling white grape juice and skipped our usual hoppin' john in favor of some turkey chili and tortilla chips.

"Cheers Me, Sophia!"

I'm so happy, it's a little bit scary.

“Each new day is a blank page in the diary of your life. The secret of success is in turning that diary into the best story you possibly can.” ~Douglas Pagels

I wish you a very happy new year full of wonderful pages in the ongoing story of you.

Love,

Meredith