I'm Better for It

Posting every day was much more difficult than I expected it to be. I'm so glad I did it, and so glad I posted a worthwhile reflection of my life each day...and so glad it's over.

It's July 31st, the last day of my NaBloPoMo participation. Don't expect an entry tomorrow unless I win the lottery and just want to rub your faces in it. And don't expect that because I don't play the lottery...so your chances of catching a blog entry like that here are actually less than your odds of winning...maybe you should go buy a ticket. If you do, please buy me a house. I'd like a bigger one. And I also want a new digital SLR camera so I can provide you with a better blog reading experience. It's all about you, you see. And Andrew would like a boat. And a Wii.

I will likely be back no later than Saturday (woohoo, a one day vacation from this here blog!) because it's our fifth wedding anniversary, and I might have something nice to say about my husband.

There, I think that covers it. Goodbye NaBloPoMo, you rocked me.

By the way...

...my good friend, Fred Sexton, is working on this site for me, so it may look funky on and off for a few days until we get things settled. The words will still be here, so please keep reading!

A whole new level of cute.

So I am just constantly overwhelmed with the cuteness that Hailey brings to the table in conversation these days. She's got all kinds of funny phrases up her sleeves. Some of it is nonsense...today she told me a story about when she was a little boy (no that's not a typo) two months ago when Keelyn was in her tummy and she rode a pony and told the pony, "KittyKat, KittyKat." As in, GiddyUp!

Having another kid in the house has brought all sorts of wonderful things into our lives. Things we never imagined, even though we knew what it was like to have a baby already. The emotions I feel when I see the girls interacting together are new, and some of the happiest I've ever known. But another thing I didn't really imagine was how much stuff we'd accumulate. These two kids, weighing in at roughly 45lbs combined, require more real estate than Donald Trump.

Andrew and I moved into this house five years ago, and we filled it then. Now we have an attic that is doomed to collapse if we don't move soon, a "storage room" full of stuff that is in limbo at my mother's, and wall to wall stuff filling every room of our house. It always amazes me that, just when it seems we are going to bust and there's not another free inch, we acquire something else that takes up space, and are forced to rearrange again...which normally means that one of the two adults in the family has to get rid of something.

In my feeble attempts to bring some sanity to this madness, I decided to buy a new toy organizational thingy from Target today. It's just a shelf with some baskets. We have a few friends who have similar shelves. I had no idea that Hailey had admired them before, but she apparently had, as I have learned many times over since our purchase. So, as we rolled up to the appropriate aisle in Target, I pointed out the shelf we were going to buy, and here is what she said:

"OH.........MY.........GAWSH!!!! I LOVE IT!!!"

If there was something more profound and extreme than bold, italicized caps, I'd use it. At the top of her lungs, she sounded like a 40 year old woman straight out of a Coffee Talk sketch on SNL.

Seriously, I couldn't stand up from the cuteness. It knocked me right over. There I was on the floor trying to speak to her, and all that was coming out was laughter and some I love you's that were hard to decipher even for her. She grinned in that adorable way that tells me she knows she's being adorable, and at that point, I think I would have bought her anything in the whole darn store if she'd wanted it.

Don't tell her that though. Turns out she really wanted this shelf. We spent the whole afternoon organizing her toys, which to Hailey, is the equivalent of drawing all over the walls with permanent markers for most toddlers. I swear I had no idea a tiny person could emit so much cuteness. I guess it's because she's my tiny person. But, seriously. She brought it to a whole new level.

From a Toddler's Mouth

her imagination...

"Oh! I got an idea, Mommy. I go to the fire station, and ride on a fire truck. You go to the motorcycle station, and ride on a motorcycle. We meet at the park. Okay? It be really fun."

her determination...

Displaying every bit of rage she could, after we cleaned up dinner, including some green beans she didn't want to eat...20 minutes later..."I want my green beans. Green beans, green beans. No bath 'till green beans!!!" There was kicking, and screaming and everything. Don't you wish your child would do this? We have to tell her she can't eat vegetables around here, or she'd use them as her excuse to stay up late. Unreal. Something is seriously wrong with this picture.

her conceptualization...

For a couple of months now, we've noticed as we put Hailey to bed, that she turns her back to the wall by her bed, and covers her face with her blankie, so she cannot see the wall behind her. I've asked her about this a few times, knowing she was scared of something, but not sure what, and not wanting to put words into her mouth, for fear I'd give her a whole new thing to be scared of that hadn't yet occurred to her. Whew, you follow? That was a mouth full. Anyhoo, I eventually determined it was the shadows cast on the wall by her nightlights, that were giving her the heebeejeebees, and she needed to protect herself from seeing them. I tried to explain what they were a few times, but noticed she still hid each night, even after nodding and smiling through my explanations. I'm nothing if I'm not logical. She's nothing if she is. Remember the green beans story?

Last night after I got Keelyn to sleep, I found Andrew laying in bed with Hailey, joking about peaches. Anything is funny to her after about 8:01p.m. She was excited to show me what they'd been doing. They were making her dolls dance on the ceiling atop her dollhouse. They were watching their hands wave on the wall next to her bed. They were having a ball. Hailey went to bed unafraid for the first time in weeks. Apparently he speaks her language.

This afternoon when I put her down for her nap, I heard her crying only a few minutes after leaving her. I went to ask what was wrong, and through her sobbing she said to me, "My shadows are gone, I need my shadows."

And she eats.

Keelyn is five months old. We decided to give cereal a try, mostly because each time we eat, she is grabbing at forks and plates and cups and anything at all related to food in an attempt to join in. That, and her toys just weren't hitting the spot for her any more.

I pretty much knew how this would go. It's her life's mission, and she has the thighs to prove it. The kid will put anything in her mouth. To that list, we can now add rice cereal. Mmmmmmmm....

There was no grimacing, even with that first bite. The kid helped get the spoon in her mouth, for goodness sake. Apparently I wasn't delivering the goods fast enough.
She licked the bowl.
And sucked every last morsel off her fingers. Don't you just wanna kiss her?
Oh, and a side note...Hailey of course helped with this exciting event that was baby meets cereal and introduces all kinds of new messes for Mommy to clean up due to the new ability to blow juicier "razzberries," and spit up thicker nastiness, as well as opportunities to get stickiness and goo trapped in every obvious and not so obvious place. Her question, with a great deal of concern at the end of our goo fest was, "Now Mommy, we gonna give her a bath tonight, right? She needs a bath tonight?" Go back to the look in Keelyn's eyes in that last image. Absolutely no concern whatsoever about a mess. This is the difference in my children.

Facebook

I joined Facebook today, and I admittedly have no clue what it is. I mean, I see you get all these friends, and they can see what you're up to, and you can send them messages, so I guess it's a good way to catch up with people you would not ever know anything about ever again after high school. Not sure how many people really want to know what I'm up to, but I do know I don't have time to keep up with it. I'm already not committed to it. They can check my blog. How's that for lazy and self-indulgent? Now, if I could only figure out how to list my blog link...um...

Somehow I missed that Facebook/Myspace part of the revolution entirely. That and text messaging. It's like I graduated one year earlier than I needed to in order to have it thrown in my face, and I just never sought it all out on my own. Instead I got married, had kids, and met people face to face...real people...who talk and listen and all that old communication garbage. You know, like my neighbors down the street. My "friends," if you will.

Alas, a friend convinced me I must join, I must join, I must join!!! Like if I didn't do it, my head might explode from lack of live screen communication and more updated tickers and twitters and stuff. I'm not so sure about that. But it's free. So why not. That's the answer to the text messaging question you had a few lines back. I know you were all, "What?!?! No text messaging? Were you born in the 70's or something???" No, it just costs money, and I'll just call you instead. For free. And I'll rock on with my bad self as a stay at home mom. See, that's my contribution to our income. I don't draw for text messages.

These pretzels are makin' me thirsty.

Yesterday morning, we ventured out to this huge consignment sale held annually in our area. I have gone every year since I was pregnant with Hailey, and have never been disappointed. It's something I was born with: the ability to spot a good deal. It's my cocaine. Nothing can replace the high I feel when I know I got something for pennies on the dollar...and around here, there's no better place to do it.

When it comes to this sale, I'm unstoppable. As in, even two small children who want nothing to do with shopping at the fairgrounds through dark racks of other people's clothing, cannot hold me back. We arrived at 9am sharp, just as we have every year before.

I went armed with a double stroller...one seat for Hailey, one for the goods. Keelyn rode on me. I took snacks...pretzels and water. I took the check book. And I took the attitude that for the first year, this just may not happen for me, and if it doesn't and if we have to leave, that's okay.

The second we walked in the door and I saw the wall to wall racks and piles of clothing, toys, and everything child, the attitude changed to, of course this is gonna happen, because this has to happen, because I live for this kind of thing, and my kids need to learn the ropes so they can help carry things, I mean appreciate a good deal, and who cares if they are bored, cranky, and tired.

There we were, armed and ready. Hailey was just as excited as I was as we entered the toy aisle. We found great new wooden toys, musical toys, and even a wagon. The second seat in the stroller was already full by the time we got to the clothing aisle. So was Hailey's belly. Full of pretzels. A lot of pretzels. It's like she couldn't possibly handle the complete overload of stimulation that was piles and piles and piles of toys, not to mention an equal number of people roaming the aisles, so she just ate instead.

As I meandered through the aisles of clothing, I realized I did have to let go of my rummaging urges, and just set my radar to finding newish looking stuff that stood out amongst the rest. We walked down the middle of the aisle, as pushing a stroller full of enough toys to complete Santa's list on Christmas Eve was too difficult with all the people plastered along the clothes, checking them out one piece at a time. That was me in years past, and this year, I knew we had about a two hour limit, so I gave it up.

Thanks to my innate ability to scope out a deal, I did still find a fair number of freakishly adorable articles for my kids. For dirt cheap. We're talkin' pants for $2 that look as if they've never been worn. As we strolled down the aisles, Hailey washed her pretzels down with a nice bottle of water I'd packed for her. She's obsessed with this little Nalgene water bottle I bought for her back when BPA kicked my butt, and she downs the whole thing like we just got back from a trip to the desert.

So I did pay attention to my kids on this trip, and I did head for the line when things got a little testy. Keelyn woke up from her nap right around the time Hailey started talking about home, and I knew we still had a good 30 minutes to an hour in line before making our exit, so we headed for phase two of the outing...the wait. I have waited in this line for as long as 90 minutes in years past, so I was happy to see that this looked like it would be under 45, easy.

We weaved through enough roping to put the line at Space Mountain to shame before we finally found our place at the end. It was a great feeling knowing that in an hour or so, all of the weaving we'd done so quickly would be filled with mommies, cranky kids, and all their stuff. We'd beaten the crowd, and we were leaving with some great deals.

It began about ten minutes after we hit the line.

"Mommy, I need to go pee pee."

"Okay Hailey, we're gonna be out of here in no time, you just stay dry, and we'll go potty when we leave."

"Okay."...(two minutes pass)..."Mommy, I need to go pee pee!!!" This time, it was obvious she meant it.

There we were, with all of our stuff. Stuff that could not leave the building to enter the bathroom facilities. Stuff we'd worked so hard to find over almost two hours' time. Stuff we wanted. Stuff we needed. But it was just stuff. I started thinking we might just have to leave the stuff, throw in the towel, go potty, and go home. I pleaded with Hailey to stay dry. Sometimes she says she needs to go just because it looks like a fun place to check out the bathroom and see the color of the soap. Tears filled her eyes as she bounced from side to side, and it became obvious that this was not one of those times.

As I pondered whether or not I was bordering on child abuse by standing in line still hoping we'd miraculously start moving faster, or someone up at the front would see us, 20 people back, and say, "hey, you look like nice people, want my place in line," it hit me. Jiminey Cricket, Mother of Angela, we had an out! My friend Angela was somewhere in this big building too, sifting through to find her own treasures. All I had to do was find her, and thanks to the bars on my cell phone, find her I did. We agreed she'd come to us in line and help.

Hailey's tears dried for a minute as she understood it would all be okay. Then a few seconds later they began to fall again. This time, through her tears, she was murmuring, "Angela???" It really broke my heart. I felt like one of those ridiculous brides you hear about who fights to the death over her dream dress at trunk sale in New York. And let me add too...wouldn't a lot of two year olds just freakin' go? The kid will not have an accident to save her life. Literally.

Then we saw her. Through the masses of people, through the tacky advertising and poorly assembled piping, a beacon of hope. "Angela!!!" Hailey ran to meet her, and off they went. I had no idea this was how it would play out, as I fully expected Hailey to jump into my arms and leave Angela to fend for herself in line with my checkbook. But Hailey had other ideas. I was the evil mommy who would not forsake the goods in a time of desperation. Angela was a godsend.

Angela reports that all things went as they should in the bathroom, and Hailey was quite proud of herself afterwards. I left with a few more things than I expected...a life now indebted to Angela, an extremely awful feeling of guilt for putting my child through such distress (which in all honestly spanned about 15 minutes of her life), some really cool clothes and toys, and a new plan of action for next year...no drinks after midnight the night before.

Here's Keelyn enjoying some new blocks, and her newest skill...sitting up!
Here's Hailey playing with her new "puter" from which she can send important emails such as love letters to Angela, and hate mail to her mother. The same mother who bought her the computer, no less. I kid, she's already forgotten the whole thing. God love children.

It's my head.

If you knew how amazingly loudly my head is pounding right now, you'd be saying, "Well, then missy, what the heck is up with blogging at these partying hours of the night?" At least that is what Andrew is asking.

I went to sleep with the kids tonight. Somehow, I have emerged as if there is an alarm in my mind saying BLOG, BLOG, BLOG, BLOG. I can kinda hear it, but it's muted by the other alarm in my head saying SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP, SLEEP. It's these darn lymph nodes. I'll tell you about them sometime when my head isn't erupting. Something to do with allergies, pregnancy, and too many doctor's appointments.

For now, I am silencing both alarms. Cross me off for the 25th...only 6 more days of this daily blogging madness to go before I can get back to behaving like a normal person. And now, sleep.

It's semantics, really.

Conversational speed bumps show up when you have a kiddo who is still learning to use vocabulary correctly. She kind of has her own language. Sometimes I swear it's Mandarin. The inflection in her voice is hysterical. Other times, I understand clearly, knowing full well that a perfect stranger would think she was speaking in tongues. It's like we have a secret society...and she's the leader. I'm her professional translator. Let's face it, I'm her professional a lot of things. And by professional, I mean person who does things for free.

I've really gotten a kick out of hearing her conversations with my grandmother recently. Grandma has a little hard time hearing anyway. Add to that the utter excitement Hailey has when she's talking to her and the use of words that don't always belong, and things can go in their own direction.

Looking at a book with pictures of cats...

Hailey: He's looking at the ocean.

Grandma: Yes, He has a black nose, doesn't he.

Looking at a book with objects for counting...

Hailey: Da, da, da, da, da!!!

Grandma: Oh! Good job Hailey, you counted backwards...five, four, three, two, one!

Now, a smart kid would leave it alone when she gets credit for tricky counting, but Hailey is too honest. She corrects Grandma each time things get mixed up, and they go back and forth until they get it straight...or until I step in and start doing my job. Hailey gives me this look. She's all, c'mon MOM, seriously, tell her what I said...duh!

It's not that I'm lazy...it's just that she's so gosh darn demanding sometimes. You know? I mean, cut me some slack kid. I'm learning an entirely new language here.

Not so long ago...

It was really not that long ago, but it feels like an eternity. Five months ago today, we brought Keelyn home from the hospital. I remember every detail of the day. I remember staying awake most of the night with her and my mother, as we all got to know each other. I remember anxiously awaiting the moment when Hailey and Andrew came to get us from the hospital. I remember how Hailey couldn’t wait to see Keelyn, and how I couldn’t wait to see Hailey. I remember the feeling I had before we left. The four of us, riding in the car together for the first time…going home.

When we first brought Hailey home, I remember thinking she was too small, and I was too young. Surely someone would stop us at the door and tell us we couldn’t leave the premises with that baby. At the very least, a kind bystander might offer us her instruction manual. But that didn’t happen, and somehow we fumbled through. It was different with Keelyn. I felt much more like she was mine and I knew what to do with her at home. I felt much more aware of the pregnancy, the delivery, the first hours, the nursing, and the bond we had. I felt like we were bringing her home to her very own family, and that in some ways she was completing us.

On so many levels, I was so wrong. She was mine, but I had no more clue of what to do with her than I did with Hailey. I got just as emotional when I was tired, just as frustrated when we had trouble nursing, and felt just as alone that first day without my husband. What I did have, was the confidence to know I could figure it out. She was a different person; I was a different person. Now I had to relearn how to mother a newborn, while still loving and caring for my first. But I knew we'd get there, and we did. I had such a strong awareness this time, that we were all in this together.

I was lucky in so many ways. Keelyn was born with an easy temperament. She goes with whatever is going. Really, as long as she’s with us, she could be anywhere. Hailey figured out how to be a big sister immediately. She helped with diaper changes, showered with kisses, and became completely in tune with Keelyn’s needs. Their connection amazes me every day.

As I put Keelyn to bed tonight, I felt my breath get shorter, the tears welling up in my eyes. This happens a lot. Partly because I'm a sap. Partly because I am simply frequently awestruck at life and my children. Just five months ago, she was bundled up in a receiving blanket, sleeping in a bassinet, barely moving her fuzzy, pink, little body. Her tiny cry was all she murmured. It was our first night at home with our new little baby, and Hailey sleeping across the hall. It felt so rich…so full.

As days go by, I feel the memories getting faint. The hustle and bustle of the days fogs the clarity of just what it was like. That's reality. The memories are replaced by what she’s like now. Still a baby. But a baby with some independence. Now she sits up in my lap as she nurses, tickling my back with her tiny fingers, gazing up at me. I try not to smile too much, or she might smile back and forget that she’s hungry. As I hold her to help her fall asleep, she knows the perfect spot on my shoulder to lay her head. She grabs the same tiny handful of hair at the back of my neck as she has every night for months now, and her body goes limp. I lay her down in her crib, she rolls over, and goes to sleep.

She’s at peace. And in so many wonderful ways, so am I. It was different than I expected, and there were lots of things I had to learn all over again. But I am appreciating the opportunity to do this a second time. It’s so different now. We know each other so well. She’s such a part of us, in such a short time. It feels like she’s been here forever.

I know five months from now, it will be just as different. As quickly as time is going by, I am trying hard to appreciate the moments as they come. I am more laid back about things. It’s easier for me to realize if something isn’t working “by the books” it’s okay to do it the way that works for us...in fact, the way that works for us is the right way. It’s easier for me to realize she’s just a baby, and she will do things on her own time, when she is ready...and for her, that's perfect. It takes having one to figure that out. It takes having two to appreciate it.

My daughters are amazing. They are wonderful for each other, and perfect for me. They were meant to be mine. Those newborn moments are gone, and I miss them, but in this moment, things just fit.

Evan and Peeeeeete!!!

You know how sometimes you are so excited to see a person, you can barely keep your feet on the ground when he or she walks in the room? It’s like the excitement makes you physically unable to control anything, from your speech, to your bladder. I mean, hypothetically and all. The whole bladder thing. I’m told this can happen.

If you’re two (ahem, almost three) years old, you might start running in circles like a chicken with his head cut off (that one’s for you, Mom), squealing in delight, repeating undetectable “words” of utter unimportance to anyone other than you. If you’re of the more adult variety of human, these things must be contained…but the heart still races.

Hailey’s love affair with Evan began at the ripe age of two months. This was the first time they met. Hailey would sleep in her arms as well as she would mine. That first visit was followed with many more as the months went on. Summer vacations, Christmases, and other intermittent family things. Evan gives Hailey all the attention she could possibly want, every time she wants it. Hailey’s first love outside the obvious immediate family, is my cousin Evan. She is a person of comfort. Lucky for Hailey, Evan likes her back.

She only recently figured out how to say her name. Before it was “Ive.” On the way to anything family, we’d constantly hear, “Mommy, Ive gonna be there?”…“Mommy, Ive want to see my pretty necklace?”…“Mommy, Ive want to play with Haya?” The favorite in our house occurs during bedtime prayers. We regularly talk a bit to God before bed, in an open conversation form. Hailey throws things in as she likes…often these things include thanks for her blankie, and her playdoh, and her Baby Emma. But it always includes Ive. If Ive is left out, we can’t leave the room without adding in a desperate last request with Baby Jesus (because that’s who you pray to if you are two, ahem, almost three).

Recently, Hailey learned to also appreciate Evan’s boyfriend, Pete. Pete is good for a laugh. He’s also great when Hailey needs to boss someone around a bit. He’s terrific at drawing funny faces, and as I recently found, he’s also good at teaching her to make them (thanks, Pete).

Together, Evan and Pete are the perfect non-parents. They allow Hailey to say and do what she wants, and because they have nothing to do with the dealings of tantrums, trials, and tribulations…or bedtime, nap time, or potty time…the relationship kinda works for the short visits we have. It’s like, “Here, take my kid, tell her she’s cute, and wear her out. Do everything fun with her that I have no energy for because I am older, sleep deprived, and have less brain cells, more fat cells…oh, and a baby. Laugh at her jokes, speak her language, and act like you are her age because no one will judge you. Then give her back to me all tired and tattered, and I’ll put her to bed.” Vacation? Check.

In reality though, it’s not all fun and games, and it’s certainly not easy. It takes totally special people to appreciate the adoration, and respond in such an I’m-all-in-no-matter-if-that-means-you’ll-follow-me-to-the-bathroom-when-I-poop-and-tell-you-the-same-jokes-a-thousand-times-and-ask-you-to-carry-me-around-the-house-when-I-have-perfectly-good-parents-for-that kind of way.

Evan and Pete rock.

Thanks for letting her “help” you with the puzzle, guys, for building sand castles at a speed faster than they can be knocked down, and for all the wonderful love and affection you showered her with. These things go a long way with a little one. I wish all kids could be so lucky, and I am so grateful that mine are.

Life with Haya and Kiki is...Life Delicious

You can now access my blog at www dot Life Delicious dot net. Or you can keep coming here. Either way. You can also subscribe to my feed by entering your email over there on the right. Go on, you know you want to.

Oh My Pictures

I think I mentioned that I took a lot of pictures. Lucky for you, I'm blogging daily for the month, so there's plenty of time to share. Today there are no stories, just my favorite images of the week.

This was the view from our porch. Keelyn and I watched the sunrise from that swing most mornings. Andrew and Hailey caught countless crabs off the dock as well.
Keelyn's first ever look at the ocean. As Hailey told her, "That's a yotta watta."
Keelyn's mohawk. Everyone blamed the humidity. I think she had surfer envy.
This is the way we go to the beach, so early in the morning...
Brrrrrrrrrrr........... She's just beautiful.
So is she.
Hiya!

Hailey sat and played in the tide pools forever. She was in her own little world...as if there was no one else anywhere...
...and there kinda wasn't.
Hailey washing at the spigot. I think I mentioned this last year, and again, it did not disappoint. She had just as much fun here as she did on the beach. I think sometimes she got sand in her suit on purpose.
All she really needs in life: The ocean, some sand, a bucket, and a shovel. Oh, and the spigot.
Our last day...You think maybe it's gonna rain? Mmmm...raindrops are tasty!What it's all about...right here.

Tomorrow, there will be pictures.

Ye people of little faith. Yes, there are pictures of our trip. Are you kidding me? Me...mmmmeeeeeeeee not take pictures? I could be a frozen flying pig in hell, and still I'd be documenting in ways that drive even the most patient of subjects crazy.

There are so many pictures, I have to get through them and choose a small sample for the blog. Otherwise, I'm afraid the whole entire Internet would crash.

Both children are asleep right now (Haaa-llelujah, Haaa-llelujah, Hallelujah, Hallelujah, Hallee-ee-luja). The pictures can sit on my camera and rest a bit before they get tossed about on my hard drive from folder to photoshop to folder to Internet, and back again. I'll be resting too. Recovering from vacation (sigh).

I miss the beach. I miss our cozy bedroom where the four of us cuddled up. I miss the porch swing over the canal where Keelyn and I watched the sun rise. I miss the smell of the salt, the sound of the waves, the big moon. I miss knowing that tomorrow we can wake up and spend the morning digging in the sand and splashing in the water and napping by the sea. And I'm sad that we only have one more day of family time before Andrew has to go to work and leave us girls to entertain one another. He's great, really, but that's a whole separate entry.

So tomorrow will be a good day for pictures. I can turn on that camera and pretend I'm there, listening to my girls giggle in the sun, watching them adore my husband, and knowing that this is a great life.

Trickle, trickle. Splash, splash.

Each morning this week, we got up with the sun. We spent some time surveying the sky, checking for crabs, watching the fish jump, talking about the day, eating breakfast, watching some Mickey Mouse, and lathering up. Andrew and I each came up with our best excuse for why the other should have the duty of putting sunscreen on Hailey’s face. I think we are about 50/50 for the week. The task involves putting as much as possible on one’s hands, and then chasing her around the house grabbing at cheeks, and hoping to swipe a nose or forehead in the process. I swear she darts around so fast sometimes I can’t even see her.

Then, about eight hours later, we’re ready to hit the beach. Okay, so maybe it doesn’t take quite that long. Maybe it does. Today was our last day. When we arrived at the beach, we could see nothing but dark clouds over the ocean. The rain was clearly falling out past the surf. The four of us headed straight for the water in hopes of getting in a nice swim before the storm took over. Keelyn was ready for a nap, so she and Andrew snuggled up, and Hailey and I played in the water. And we played, and we played.

And it started raining. Sideways. She ran out of that water so fast I might have thought a shark was after her. That is, if it weren’t for the sideways rain.

We kept our feet planted in the sand. We waited it out. How often do you get the opportunity to really feel the rain with no reservations anyway? It felt great. To me anyway. Hailey, on the other hand, was running around asking for a towel and hiding from the rain, so as not to melt.

It’s our last day. We weren’t going to get rained out. It’s our last day. That means soaking up every last second of time in that great ocean, feeling the sun, walking in the sand, enjoying the family. It’s weird how on the last day these things all become urgent. It’s as if enjoying the vacation is a secondary goal to things like eating and sleeping until the last day…and then suddenly there is no excuse for giving up one second on the beach. Not even rain.

The sun came back out. It was just for us. We waited, and there it was. Our last day, just as beautiful as a day can be. We’ll be taking a fair amount of sand home with us, a couple bumps and bruises, and some great memories.

Docksider

The walls are adorned in pink wind chimes and seashells. The shelves are covered in knick knacks and decorations. The cases hold jewelry and gifts. The floor feels a bit rickety, like it’s been there forever. The price tags are hand printed. There’s stuff everywhere. Pink, pretty, fluff.

Docksider was my favorite store to shop in each year at the beach when I was young. It’s a little girl’s dream, really. There are a million things a young girl could want, and rarely something she couldn’t. Beachy magnets and Christmas ornaments cover one wall. Beaded necklaces and painted shells cover another.

When we walked in I could see Hailey’s eyes grow wide.

“Hailey, I think maybe you can pick out something pretty today.”

“Ooooooooooooohhhhhhh, okay Mommy,” she whispered, as if to not spoil the ambiance.”

It’s really just kind of your typical old beach store. It’s been around for as long as I can remember. I remember walking around for what seemed like an eternity, trying to decide what special thing I might ask for or buy with my allowance as a kid. So many wonderful choices.

Hailey spotted a little set of jewelry with colorful fish on it. I took her around the store showing her all the pretty things she might like. When it was time to go, I asked what she wanted, and she took me right back to that first favorite.

“I want this Mommy, this is vewy pwetty. I want nuuu gewewy.”

And new jewelry she got.

More Big Kid Stuff

If I’m being honest, blogging every day is wearing me thin. That and “vacation,” which his exhausting me. A promise is a promise though, and every day for a month, I’ll meet this challenge…if just for me. And I did promise. Plus, my editor has a whistle and whip, and she’s threatening to withhold my daily ration of m&m’s, so I better step up to the plate and serve you up some word garbage.

I think today I’ll just tell you about all of Hailey’s booboo’s since we arrived here at the beach. Hailey’s not the booboo gettin’ kind of kid. She’s cautious, clean, and sticks by us. Something about this week is bringing her totally out of her shell. Maybe the crabs are inspiring her. Maybe I’m just bad at jokes tonight.

So let’s see. She has successfully slammed a couple fingers in a door…twice. Once it was at a trashy beach junk store. Maybe we should sue. Then, she fell off a bench at the kitchen table during dinner. She went sideways towards Andrew, and just rolled on to the floor. Hit her elbow. Owie. She also took a dive into the sand the first day on the beach, and has a bruise on her left cheek to show for it.

The best was today though. We walked down to the south end of the island where the ocean meets the sound. It’s one of the most beautiful places we see each year. The tides make it different with each visit, but there are usually tide pools along the end of the island, perfect for running and splashing to a little kid’s delight. I was so excited for Hailey when we spotted the first one, I grabbed her hand and we took off running. Apparently I was too excited. I felt her let go of my hand, turned around, and saw her land face first in the sand. If I didn’t know better, I’d have thought she intentionally ran to jump and land on her face, just to see how far she could slide along before stopping. She was like a torpedo. With no attempt at all to catch herself, I see the benefit in practicing these things...which she clearly has not done. There’s a great big shiner of a strawberry on her face, and on down her shoulder and arm.

At least now her cheeks match.

Big Kid Stuff

“Ocean, Ocean, Oooooocccceeeeeeaaaaannnnn!!!!! We are going to the ocean, I see the ooooccceeeaaannnnnnnnnnnnnnnnn!!!!!!!!!” She said this in her most excited voice. Think Grover in a high pitched grumbly, throaty kind of voice. The words drawn out like the wind that was carrying them.

Each year our family spends a week at the ocean. We’ve done it for as long as I can remember. One week of time away from everything at home. One week of time together. One week of time to relax. I remember many visits as a kid. I remember the times the waves tumbled me into the sand. I remember the excitement I had when I found the biggest shark’s tooth. I remember the year I got so badly burned that my skin blistered. (Hello, skin cancer. Nice to meet you). I also remember the more recent visits. The ones when I was in college and appreciated the week for a time of rest. The times I did nothing other than sleep on a towel on the beach.

When Andrew and I started talking about having kids, and even once I was pregnant with Hailey, my mind never traveled much farther than baby mode. I didn’t know what it would be like at all, and now that I know, I can tell you with great certainty, that there was not enough room in my brain for what I had in store. There is no way to wrap your head around that.

It’s nature’s trick. Cute baby? Sure, I’ll take one of those. And I’ll take a dose of denial right along with it. My cute baby is going to stay a cute baby forever. She’s never gonna grow up. I think it’s the shock of seeing the baby actually start to grow up that drives us to procreate once again. Another baby, another dose of denial. Ring me up.

There is no way to prepare for what that cute baby morphs into. There is no way to prepare for the wrath of a toddler who wants to watch another episode of Mickey Mouse, or another cup of chocolate milk, and there’s no point in trying. There’s no point, because you also cannot prepare for how much you will love this Mickey Mouse watching fool. The thing is, it doesn’t matter if you aren’t prepared, because it all just kinda keeps rolling along. The best part is the stuff you really don’t anticipate.

Our trips to the beach have been colored these past three years with the excitement of taking a baby…or two. Last year was the first year Hailey was really aware of what was going on here. She was kinda terrified, kinda thrilled. Each day we’d have to work hard to remind her that the ocean was fun, the sand did not bite, and the wind wasn’t going to blow her away. By the end of each day, we could see the fruits of our labor. She’d be running to the water, digging in the sand, and flying in the wind like a free little girl…kinda. The next day, we’d have to start all over again.

We really didn’t know what to expect this year. Hailey’s a timid kid. In all honesty, I didn’t give her enough credit. I was sure she’d be terrified. That she wouldn’t put her feet down, that she’d cry if we tried to take her in the water. I was so wrong.

As we walked over the dunes for the first time, her excitement was raging from her head to her toes. She’d been counting down the days. She’d hardly slept in the car because she was too busy talking about boats, and sand castles, and water, and gooey fishies, and sunshine. It was the moment she’d been waiting for…and it met all her expectations.

Andrew put her down in the sand, and she went running, and digging and splashing. She couldn’t decide what to do first, or next, or after that. Suddenly I realized. She’s a big kid. She’s a real live big kid. It’s her turn now. She can have her time tumbling in waves, and I can watch.

If I had tried to listen to all the babble about the work involved in raising kids...about the troubles with the terrible two’s…about the sleepless nights…about the emotional rollercoaster they take you on…I’d have missed this I’m sure of it. No one mentions the warm feeling you get when you see your little one running towards the ocean, without fear. No one mentions how much the ocean changes when you see it through your daughter’s eyes. This is the good stuff. This is the meat of it. This is worth every single sleepless night. I’m glad I couldn’t see past baby, and I can’t wait for the next unexpected turn we take together.

Sippin' Margaritas I'm Not

We are at the beach. In theory, this would be a week of r&r, filled with naps in the sun, trashy novels, and margaritas. I think I was in some kind of fantasy land when we planned this trip. There are no naps, no novels, and no margaritas. There are, however, kids experiencing all kinds of wonderful moments.

There is one small issue. No sleep. Keelyn will not sleep. She is exhausted. She won’t ride in a sling, she won’t lie beside me, she won’t sit in a chair, she won’t sleep in the crib, she won’t stop squirming from fatigue. Not until she’s exhausted herself to the point of screaming. Then she’ll sleep. Only pressed against me. But, she’ll sleep.

That’s what she’s doing now. That’s why I’m blogging at 11:00pm instead of sleeping as well…because this is my only chance. I sit here in the dark. Her body breathing against my legs. Hailey sleeps on the floor at the foot of our bed. Everyone is peaceful. Tomorrow we’ll be up with the sun. If it’s anything like today, it will be filled with fun. Funny toddler moments on the beach. First baby moments in the sand. Happy family moments for us all to share. Still no sleep, but fun.

Keelyn rolled over for the first time today. From back to belly she got herself over in a maneuver I’ve watched her attempt for weeks now. She went from clean, pristine towel, to sand. That’s right. She chose to figure it all out just in time to roll her little belly onto the sand. She wasn’t thrilled. I scooped her up, carried her to the ocean, and rinsed that sand off. Because, you know, Mama can’t have a messy baby and all. Again, she wasn’t thrilled. Turns out she's not a fan of sand messes or ocean clean ups.

I was thrilled. My baby is at the beach for the first time. She's smelling the air, feeling the breeze, and watching the waves. I've heard before that each time you take a baby or small child on a trip away from home, they learn new things and make strides in their development. My little beach baby rolled over. Imagine what she can do with some sleep under her belt.

Posting for Posting

I promised myself when I started NaBloPoMo, that no entry would be for the purpose of just keeping up with the month. That each would be relevant to that day, and that I would write something meaningful. The thing is, my life means that some days, blogging can't be quite what I'd like it to be. I guess that is relevant in and of itself. Keelyn isn't sleeping, Hailey isn't sleeping, Andrew and I are exhausted, and this blog entry is honestly just for the purpose of keeping up with the month. That's it. And that's okay. That's truth for us. That is the essence of the day, and that is what blogging every day for a month is about. Babies mean days when not much else can be done. Today was one of those days. I'll be back...tomorrow. A different day.

I Not Have Boobs

Keelyn is on the floor in only a diaper.

Hailey: I see Keelyn's boobs.

Me: What? Her what?

Hailey: Her boobs.

Me: Oh. Do you have boobs?

Hailey: No, I have milks for my Carebear.

Drew: What about Mommy?

Hailey: No, Mommy has milks too. For Baby Kiki.

Me: What about Daddy?

Hailey: Daddy have boobs like Keelyn.

Seriously Juicy

Hailey and I were shopping at TJ Maxx, where we buy the majority of our clothes these days. She's getting great at rummaging through the clutter to find the cute with me. Today we found the ultimate in clutter.

It was in the children's bathing suit section. As in clothing for small humans under the age of people who can read and use correct context for obscenities. Maybe it's better they can't read this.

There was a whole rack of adorable bathing suits. They were made with different fabrics, layered colors, adorable cuts. There were tons of them. How disappointing. Every single one read JUICY on the tush. Every one. The lettering stood about an inch high, by about 5 inches wide.

JUICY.

Oh my friggin' WHAT????

Seriously. Who buys this stuff?

I'm pretty sure at no point is anyone at the appropriate age to wear JUICY across her badonkadonk, no matter the bootyliciousness. If you were thinking you might be, then you must be 20 years old and svelte like Britney before the babies fell out. Otherwise, you are either too young, or you are too old. Before 20, it says things it shouldn't say. After 20, you're kidding yourself, and it says things the general population shouldn't have to read.

That's it. I really might have to start making their clothes myself.

Only a Two year old

You know the scene if you are a parent. Out to run errands. Out too long. Whining toddler in the back seat. Obnoxious sounds bouncing off her tongue. Her body squirming in ways the car seat should not allow.

I'm kicking myself for running in that one more store. I'm pulling out all my usual tricks for distraction. Nothing is working. I turn off the radio. I start singing the songs from story time. It seems like we were there 8 hours ago. It was less than 2. She's not digging it.

I try logic.

"Hailey, you know you could make this car ride a lot more fun if you just stopped complaining. We can sing songs and we can decide to be in a good mood. Then we will get home a lot faster."

"I not wanna sing songs! Too tieeeeght. Car seat is too tiiiieeeeghtttt!"

"Okay, well, what do you want to do that will be fun? Don't you want to have fun?"

"NO! I NOT want to have FUN!!!"

This is not logical. Must drive fast. Car might explode.

Stick it to Her

Does anyone else find it as amusing as I do that kids think stickers are magic?

I guess someone had a good idea 50 years ago when they realized that if we mass produce tape with bright colors on it, kids will want to decorate themselves, and anything else they see fit. Stickers are magic. They dry tears at the doctor, motivate a toddler to use the potty, signify the end of a dance class while warding off a tantrum, and even stimulate a feeling of pride and self-worth. All this, from one little bright colored sticky piece of tape.

We have been going to the same pharmacy since Hailey was born. It's at our local grocery store. Hailey was sick a whole lot the first 18 months or so, and she knows the pharmacy well. The employees all know her, too. When we round the bend in the shopping kart headed towards the pharmacy counter, she gets warm greetings from multiple employees in chorus. You know how everyone hollers and bows down when Oprah makes her entrance on her show? It's kinda like that. It's a welcome most of us would love.

Hailey hates it. She turns her head, tells me she wants to leave, and only recently figured out how to hold back a few tears at the encounter. It's just way too much from a bunch of people who she thinks shouldn't be her friends. Still, they adore her. (Can you blame them?)

Most of the time, the person who rings us up gives her a sticker. She usually accepts through some sort of manipulative gesture that involves her pushing my hand to meet the sticker, and then passing it on to her. She never says thank you, but you can always tell she wants to. I've always assumed that she liked the sticker, but since she didn't like the coercion into conversation with an employee, it might not be worth it.

Apparently I was wrong. Today we went by for a pick up. The pharmacist spoke with us a few minutes, asking how the girls are, and doing the usual stuff to try and engage little Hailey. Hailey, as usual, wanted nothing to do with it all. We paid, and we left.

As soon as we were within a good 50 feet of the pharmacy, she turns to me in utter horror and says, "Oh no, Mommy! They forgot my sticker!"

So she looks forward to visiting the pharmacy after all. And she's willing to put up with all that lovey-dovey gushy attention...on one condition. These are her terms, folks. Take 'em or leave 'em.

Gimme Ur Digitz

48:28 - number of minutes I was on the phone with the phone company today for the second time.

196.03 - amount of money we do not owe them.

15.00 - dollars I have earned per hour in total number of calls I have made to the phone company in order to not pay the bill we do not owe them.

4 - number of people I spoke with today on the second call.

1 - number of people who disconnected me on the first call after (and I'm spit balling here) 20 minutes of time on hold.

8074 - number on the PO box where they actually sent a refund check that was supposed to come to our house and started this whole debacle, which I am not getting into.

4 - number of people I was nice to during this call.

4 - number of people I was not nice to during this call.

3 - number of episodes of Max & Ruby Hailey watched during this entire time.

1 - number of times Keelyn nursed during this time.

4 - number of times Hailey had to go pee pee during this time.

8,000 - number of times Hailey asked me what I was doing and who I was talking to..."Mommy, what you donin' on da pone? You talkin' at Daddy?"

2 - number of diaper changes Keelyn needed. 1 pee. 1 poop.

5 - number of different kinds of snacks Hailey asked for while I was on the phone (which I of course gave to her to pacify her need for attention while I continued to hold on the bloody phone with the phone company forever and ever and ever about money I do not owe them).

0 - number of things Hailey ate on her plate for dinner after lots of snacks.

5ish - number of times I was up with one or both kids last night. Also the hour that Hailey woke up to start the day.

8ish - time when both of my children will be sleeping for the night.

2 - number of adults in this house who would also like to be sleeping.

1 - number of times I am hoping to get up with Keelyn tonight.

0 - number of times I am hoping to get up with Hailey tonight.

8,000 - number of times I would like my husband to rub my shoulders, while whispering profanity about the phone company in my ears.

1 - number of people who will actually read this list all the way to the end of my rambling (or maybe I'm being generous? If I am, then I am the only one reading this as I am writing it. Hi Self, you are a la-hooo-ooser). If it's you, please forgive me for wasting your time, as apparently blogging every day makes me silly.

31 - number of posts you and I will have lived through by the end of the month. Sheesh.

4 - number of times I listed the number 4. Well, now it's 5.

Pretty purple nail polish...and ooooh, SPARKLES!!!

I started painting Hailey's toenails when she was about 18 months old. She rebelled in a hateful way each time I tried to cut her toenails, and I learned that the promise of nail polish to follow a quick trim was the key to peaceful pedicures.

Now it's among the necessities in her life. If there's even the slightest little chip in the polish, she's all, I need my nails done, Mommy...I need them fixed! And because it's just so darn cute, I'm all, Okay Princess Buttercup, As you Wish!

In the store the other day, she noticed some pretty purple nail polish, and I threw it in the kart. Then she saw the sparkles, and it was all over. We both have pretty purple sparkly toes now. As Hailey would say, Ooh nice, we match...Cheers!

Fireworks

Fireworks didn't really happen for us this year. Instead, I guess Hailey learned a lesson in how to deal with disappointment. On the 4th, my mom came over to watch Keelyn so that Drew and I could take Hailey, just the three of us. As we rounded the bend onto the highway towards the fairgrounds where they are set, we saw the first of many lightning bolts. By the time we had parked, we'd decided if we stayed, we were watching from the car. We sat there for about ten minutes laughing at all the silly people setting up chairs in an open field full of lightning and wind. Then it started to rain...and we headed home...no fireworks.

When we pulled into the neighborhood, we found that some good samaritan had decided to set off a few of his own over the lake. We stopped and watched what was actually a pretty decent amateur show. Hailey was pleased. It wasn't the big ordeal we'd promised her, but it was pretty good if you're two.

Last night the city show went on, but we decided not to go because there was again a chance for storms, and no Nana to watch Keelyn. We stayed home, stayed up late, ate ice cream, and watched Olympic trials. Again, pretty good if you're two. Still, when we put Hailey to bed, she mentioned her disappointment at missing the big display.

Tonight there was quite a thunderstorm. We were all standing in the kitchen when a huge crack of lightning lit up the backyard, thunder echoing at nearly the same moment. Hailey leaped about four feet to make up the difference between us, latched her body onto my leg, peered up over her blankie to see me and said, "Fireworks?!?!?"

Such a Little Person

It's no secret that Hailey has a hard time in large crowds. It's way too much stimulation for her, and she feels way too much pressure to do things she doesn't want to do...even though we never push her. It's self inflicted pressure, because she wants so badly to do what the other kids are doing, and she feels anxiety about actually doing these things, and she knows it. It's a lot to process for a little kid her size, but I tell you...that's what's going on inside her...I know so because I'm her mommy.

Yesterday, we went to a little 4th of July celebration in my mom's neighborhood. There were tons of people running amuck. There was face painting, bike riding, snow cone making, doughnut eating, and all sorts of kid stuff. There were even two big air filled jumping things, perfect for anyone under the age of ten.

The great thing about Hailey is that once she feels safe, she's able to enjoy these things despite her anxiety. Often her enjoyment just consists of quietly observing, but she's content just the same. Yesterday, feeling safe meant riding on Mama's hip. Lucky for her, I like her there. So she got her arm painted with a bright pink star, ate a red snow cone, and watched all the goings on with a smile on her face, all from the comfort of a well broken in hip.

One of the big bouncy things was calling her name all morning. She wanted to go see, wanted to go see, wanted to go jump, wanted to go jump, wanted nothing to do with it at all!!!!!!!!!! All in a matter of about 30 seconds. This broke my heart. She gets so excited about the idea of something, and then I can just see the disappointment in her eyes when she realizes the manifestation of that idea isn't okay with her.

So what did we do about this? Well, Mama took her hip right in that bouncy thing with her, and we jumped to her heart's delight...which was all of about 60 seconds. Then she realized what she was doing, and freaked. Not so much about the jumping, which was fun, but about the notion of an exit strategy. The trauma of getting back out of that thing was enough to send anyone reeling, as she had to climb through a hole apparently custom made for little garden gnomes, onto another bouncy thing, before my mom could catch her in mid-air as she slid off. As soon as I wiggled my way out of that thing, she was back on my hip, hiding her head in horror.

One of my favorite things about Hailey is what she did next. She clung to me like a little monkey just until we got to the outskirts of the park for our walk home. Then, she completely switched gears, and danced and sang to us the whole way home. Her shirt garnished in the remnants of cherry syrup, tears, and chocolate. Her flag darting back and forth through the air. Her hips swaying side to side with fancy footwork beneath. Her voice joyful, excited, and calm.

"Did you have a good time at the party, Hailey?"

"Yeah, I did, I did! I did have a good time...and I jumped, and Mommy came with me, and I was laughin' and then I climbed out all by myself!"

I think she came into my life to teach me about taking the good from every situation. She's such a bright shining star.

Kerplunk

It turns out, this is my 100th post. Isn't somebody supposed to throw me a party or something?

Tempted as I was to sit down and write you a nice long list of 100 tasty treats about myself, my kids, my husband, and the three ring circus that is our life, I decided I'll keep them in my back pocket for the days when I have writer's block and need to entertain myself...ahem, I mean my readers.

Truly though, thanks to whom ever is reading. Blogging has become a wonderful unexpected outlet for me. I love to write, and I guess it never occurred to me how great it would be to have a platform to do so whenever I want, about whatever I want...until I started doing it.

So...thank you to the Internet wizards who created the WWW. Thank you to the Google people for thinking outside the box. And congratulations to me on 100 posts. I'll go throw my own party. Oh, wait. What's that? I think there are fireworks outside my door. Really, you shouldn't have. It's too much. I don't deserve all this fuss.

I can't imagine what you'll do when I get to 1,000.

***I don't mean to make light of the true reason there are fireworks...thank you also to all the people who have helped make this country what it is...and to the people who love them, and those who love them, and on and on.

Sexy Mama

That's right. Sexy Mama. It would be an appropriate term under one of three conditions:

1-It was directed at Angelina Joli.
2-It was directed at me by my husband, who thinks such is true despite my long list of reasons it is not.
3-It did not come from the mouth of my two year old.

I bet you'll be surprised when I tell you this: It did come from the mouth of my two year old.

I wasn't sure whether I should be flattered or pissed. I thought about just saying "thank you" and going on about our business. I thought about saying "never say that word again" and going on about our business. Really I wasn't thinking all too clearly though, as I was too busy concentrating on making my heart continue to beat, my lungs continue to breathe, and saving my ears from spontaneous combustion.

After regaining my composure, I changed my pants, wiped the drool from my chin, and clarified. Upon hearing it for a second time (by my own ridiculous request), I asked, "Where in the world did you learn THAT?"

In my mind, I was expecting some kind of explanation about a stuffed animal, Justin Timberlake, The Wiggles, or some other idea that popped into her head. She'll blame these things on the wall in front of her if that's the best she can come up with. Or she'll change the subject altogether and start talking about her sister, which is what she did here.

"Well, Mommy, I think Kiki needs a clean diaper."

If I didn't know how fleeting her thoughts are in that little tiny developing brain, I'd think she was messing with me.

No worries though, she said it again an hour later, and this time, upon my request for explanation, she told me she got it from Daddy. Likely culprit, but I still don't buy it. He doesn't talk like that in front of her...or at all.

Upon her third use of the word, I asked again, and this time she blamed it on the cat. Then she told me the rocking chair was sexy too, which frankly, was quite insulting.

The Stairs

We live in a two story home. The top floor is separated from the bottom by 16 steps. When we bought this house, I had no idea how much I would grow to hate them.

For starters, I am undeniably clumsy. If there's something to run into, I will do it. Multiple times. I have tripped, stumbled, and outright fallen on these glorious steps. Once while I was carrying Hailey as a baby, and once when I was pregnant with Keelyn. Grrrrr to the steps.

My real beef with the steps began when Hailey started crawling. At first it was cute. You know, in that oh my goodness my little girl is crawling up the stairs, I could watch this all day kind of way. But then I got over it. We spend hours of our days on the steps. Some days, I'm not sure we leave them. Any time we need something on the other floor, it's like a parade of Plunketts up or down. Complete not only with the three of us, but also any toys or dolls or shoes that need to come along...not to mention blankie. Forget about running upstairs to swap out the laundry or grab the car keys. Everyone has to come. Every time. With all there is to carry (or throw on the way down), it's no wonder it's an all day affair. Then slap on an easily distracted toddler who is trying to learn to alternate her feet when she scales these great stairs.

Sleep. Steps. Forgot something. Steps. Eat. Steps. Shower. Steps. Outside. Steps. Inside. Steps. Forgot something. Steps. Laundry. Steps. Nap. Steps. Forgot something else. Steps. Hailey wants to change clothes. Steps. Hailey wants a book in the living room. Steps. Eat. Steps. Keelyn needs another nap. Steps. Bedtime. Steps. Some more steps. Steps. Steps. Steps. I dream about steps. I blame my pregnancy sciatica on the steps. If I'm in a bad mood, blame the steps. I'm checking into it, as I believe they might also be responsible for world hunger, nuclear weapons, tornadoes, and mean people.

No exaggeration. We spend hours.

Because I am a product of my own generation, I still have a baby monitor in Hailey's bedroom. And in case you were wondering, I also wipe the shopping cart clean with antibacterial wipes before putting the kids in, bring water along so we don't have to drink out of water fountains, and insist on using hand sanitizer at least 400 times a day. These are just the things we do. It keeps me sane. Or maybe not.

So Hailey, Keelyn and I were playing with play doh when Hailey said she needed to go potty. She hopped down from her chair, and went in the bathroom all by herself!!! This is kind of a new thing for her. She'll even push the stool over so she can turn on the light. Totally independent. She was singing, "la, la, la, doo, doo, doo."

A couple of minutes went by, and I suddenly realized the "la, la's" and the "doo, doo's" were coming from the monitor. I walked over to it to confirm, and then headed for the bathroom. She was gone. I went to the bottom of the stairs, only to find her on her way down.

"Hailey, did you go upstairs all by yourself?"

"Yeah, I had a yitta pee pee assident, so I got a dwy pai of underwoos. No pwobem, Mommy."

All by herself, and in record time, she went up and came down. She didn't even tell me. She didn't ask for my help. She just went.

NaBloPoMo

You have no idea how many times I had to rewrite that title line to get the letters in the right order.

National Blog Posting Month.

Actually, it's every month. Or any month you want to participate. Call me crazy, but this is my month. I will be posting every single day, come rain, sleet, or snow. I can say this with the highest of confidence since it rarely rains, sleets, or snows around here. Please check in to read, and join me in the incessant blogging if you like.

I'll try to keep in interesting.