Catching Up

I've been too busy to blog, y'all. Both the good kind of busy and the bad kind of busy. I'll try to catch up now- and I'll do it with pics to make up for my lack of blogging.

The construction, which should have been finished well over a month ago, is still going on. I'm hoping everything on the inside of the house will be finished by the end of next week. The landscaping is still a complete mess. It should also have been finished a few weeks ago. There was a lazy period, followed by progress, followed by a week of rain and flooding. I have a dream that one day when I look out the window I'll see grass, plants, paved walkways, and a fountain. I am so very tired of looking at mud, rocks, holes, and ditches:




We took our annual Charleston trip for a week in the middle of August. We rented a beach house with a great view:



And we had a ball:



It was great hanging out with friends and family and spending time with each other:



The very next weekend we headed up to Cleveland to celebrate our niece's bat mitzvah. The kids loved hanging out with their cousins:



We had time to squeeze in a trip to the Rock and Roll Hall of Fame and Museum (no matter what I do, this picture keeps posting sideways):



The next weekend, Shimmy and I flew to Atlanta without the kids for my cousin's wedding. Even though we were only there for a total of 26 hours, it was amazing. Firstly, because instead of spending between six and ten hours in the car as I had done for the past few weekends, it was a short hour and a half flight! I got to eat, sleep, and party like a normal person! It was fabulous! I found this pic on my camera- I think my dad took it. It's blurry, but it's happy:



And that brings us to the present. The summer is over. The kids are in school (that will get its own post), the weather is gloomy, and I am busy planning all of our holiday meals. Oh, and a baby is coming soon. Back to the grind! Nine more months until summer is back in full swing.

Hybrid

I’ve been meaning to write this post for a long time now. And the longer I wait, the more relevant it becomes. It’s nothing highly astute or Earth-shattering, but it’s still incredible to me. Lilah is growing up.

I remember observing a friend’s two year old a few years ago and thinking, she is a baby-kid hybrid. Lilah is now at this hybrid stage. She still has chubby cheeks, fine baby hair, and an adorable little baby giggle. She still runs to me for comfort when she’s sad or scared. She still asks me if she can give me “a big, big hug.” She still sleeps with her thumb in her mouth and her body curled into the fetal position. She still has soft baby feet. But those feet are getting big. I’ve noticed a few freckles cropping up on that soft, baby skin. Her hair is finally long enough for a pony tail (not that she lets me put her hair in a pony tail). She likes to boss me around. Sometimes, if I try to sing along with her she gets angry and yells, “No, don’t sing that!” She remembers things and starts actual conversations with me. She has mad negotiating skills.

I knew this part was coming, but the baby days still managed to slip through my fingers. No matter how many times I kiss that little baby face, it continues to mature. No matter how many times I elicit that heartwarming giggle, I cannot bottle it forever. I’ve been here before with Sophie, but somehow it’s harder this time. Perhaps it is because I know how quickly Sophie’s baby days slipped away from me that I am grasping even tighter around Lilah’s baby days. Sadly, it is to no avail. No matter how tight my grasp, those baby days slip farther and away with each passing moment. I can only try my best to bottle them in my heart.

From this:

To this:

Unwinding

You know what cures a long day filled with aches and pains and whiny children? A jacuzzi bath, a bowl of strawberries, a (small) glass of (5% alcohol by volume) wine and Tina Fey.

The Way You Look, July

July is the best month of the year. Summer is in full-swing. The long, wonderfully hot days are filled with laughter in the pool:



Lazy afternoons in the hammock, looking up at the sky:



Picnics of fresh fruit (usually sweet, juicy watermelon):



Floating around, without a worry in the world:



And, of course, July 4th, in all it's flag-filled glory:



The days of July are what I mourn in the Fall, long for in the Winter, and eagerly anticipate in the Spring. This is when I am my happiest. I can only try to bottle it as best I can and hope it lasts the rest of the year until July returns.

Some day, when I'm awfully low,
When the world is cold,
I will feel a glow just thinking of you...

First Day

Monday was the first day of camp. It was the first day of Sophie's third summer at the same camp. It was Lilah's first day of camp- or any program without me- ever. Lilah is my easy-going child. She is smart and sweet. She adjusts to change fairly easily. I have been leaving her with a babysitter (at our house) for a few hours a week for the past year. I had attended a Mommy and Me class with her at the school where camp takes place. Half of her bunk mates are her best friends, the children of my best friends. She has seen these kids about three times a week since she was nine months old. I had not given much thought to the possibility of camp being a major transition. And, yet, there were tears when I took her to camp. I abandoned the idea of dropping her off in the carpool line with Sophie, and instead, walked her in myself. There were tears when I said good-bye. So I stayed for a few more minutes. More tears, so I stayed a bit longer. Finally, I left and watched her through the window. She was sad, but engaged in an activity with her counselor. I drove home fighting back my own tears. I had a list of things to do during the three hours she was at camp, but instead, I found myself wandering around and checking the clock to see if it was time to pick her up yet. I did manage to convince myself to get on the treadmill (if all I was doing was walking around the house, I may as well be walking on the treadmill). When noon finally did arrive, I picked her up. She greeted me with a smile and said, "I had fun with my friends." She looked happy. She also looked different. She looked like a big kid standing there with her backpack on. She looked older. I remember this happening to Sophie too; this transformation. It is subtle, but it is there. It is a maturity; an independence. In a short three hours of fending for themselves (with lots of supervision), children grow. It is a good thing. There is a part of me that wishes kids could do both- be independent and still stay attached. But this is life. My baby birdie flew out of the nest this week. And I am both proud and a little sad.

Father's Day 2011

We had a lovely Father's Day in between ballet class, camp orientation, and a birthday party. (Really, why do people plan things on Fathers Day?! Why can't we spend the whole day together as a family?!) The girls and I made Shimmy his favorite breakfast and brought it to him in bed. This was after we heard him coming downstairs earlier than expected and Sophie yelled at him to get back in bed. There were cards and presents and cuddles. It was adorable. After all of the non-Father's Day obligations were met, we had dinner with my dad, sister, and sister's girlfriend. (My mom is out of town.) On the way home from dinner, with my dad squeezed between the girls' carseats in the back, Lilah threw her dinner up all over herself and the backseat. My dad calmly wiped her down and held her hand. When we got home, I gave the girls baths and got them ready for bed while Shimmy hosed down the carseats. This seemed to really capture the true meaning of fatherhood. Which complemented my Mother's Day early morning fun of cleaning up peed on sheets. It's part of the parenting package. And even with the occasional vomit and pee incident, it's a pretty wonderful package.



Good Morning and Happy Father's Day!


breakfast in bed: coffee, orange juice, toasted bagel with cream cheese and southwestern scrambled eggs


My sister, our Daddy, and Me

An Unoriginal, but still worth sharing, Thought

This is something that gets discussed in the blogosphere from time to time. It's my turn to mention it.

YES- I have an amazing husband, wonderful children, parents who are living, and an awesome group of friends.

YES- I have a beautiful home, a nice car, and live very comfortably.

YES- I have my health.

I am constantly aware and appreciative of all of these things. I thank God every day. I do not take any of these things for granted.

BUT- once in a while sucky things happen. I rarely mention the sucky things because I feel guilty for letting them overshadow the awesome things for a short period of time. Occasionally I do complain about something and it is SUPER UNHELPFUL for the person I am complaining to to make light of it or remind me about all of the awesome things.

In summation:
I am blessed, but occasionally stressed.
I am lucky, but sometimes things are sucky.