90 minutes in the life

We went to the library on Monday. We tend to go to the library most Monday’s, but it had been awhile so the kids were excited to go. We bundle up against the elements put L in the stroller and away we go. N immediately wants to push L in the stroller. My first instinct is to say, "no", but I don’t. I let him push the stroller. Surprise, no one dies! L giggles in delight as N weaves all over the sidewalk, and I bite my tongue to keep from telling him to, "push the stroller straight. Don’t weave, don’t run." It’s not easy being a worry-wart mom who doesn’t want to be a worry-wart. You have to bite your tongue, a lot.

We arrive at the library with all our limbs intact. With Lucy in the stroller and not walking we made good time (two year olds have their own agenda when going to the library and it usually does not include walking fast enough for older brothers). Once at the library we follow a strict protocol set up by N. First we go to the book drop where we deposit the books we had out, one at time, never two, always one. With a running commentary on each book it takes longer then average. We often end up taking the books of those who come in after us and drop theirs as well, it’s just the neighborly thing to do. L meanwhile spends the timely loudly telling everyone it is time to ‘get out. get out now’ of her stroller, and works diligently at the clasp, determined to set herself free.

Finally, all the books are deposited and off we go to the children’s room. N goes straight for the shelves pulls a book and sits at the little table to read. L goes straight for the nearest exit. Delighted to be free she looks back at me with a quick grin and runs into the other room. With quick feet and even longer arms I grab the hood of her jacket and corral her back to the children’s room. We search in vain for a "Maisy" book, alas we are out of luck. L stumbles across a pile of paper and the itty bitty library pencils, she is pacified for a few minutes. In these few minutes I scan the shelves for books to take home, while keeping the eyes at the back of my head firmly planted on the kids. Lucy makes another break for it, this time getting as far as the front doors. Luckily for me a kindly biker dude plants himself in front of the doors, she is going nowhere. She will however take the time to flash him her best, "I’m so cute and I know it" smile and say, "whaza your name." If she had done that first she probably would have gotten past him, as you could see him bedazzled by her smile and eyes, as many before have been.

Time to pry Noah away from his pile of books. Miraculously I get him to agree to just 10 books to take home. To the checkout desk, N reading all the way, like Mr. Magoo he narrowly misses obstacles in his way, never breaking his stride. He will continue in this vein the whole way home. Books checked out and off we go. With moment of potential insanity I decide to let both kids walk home. We pile books into the stroller. Whoops wait, we must stop at the outdoor water fountain for drinks. Can N reach it himself this time? No, but before Spring turns to Summer I bet he will (how did that happen?)

The journey home begins in earnest now. I’m just hungry (having left half my breakfast on the counter to referee an train dispute, and never returned) and hope that my offer of PB&J and chocolate milk (okay it’s a bribe) is enough to motive the kids to move quickly. No such luck. Noah wants to read and walk, L wants to push the stroller. No wait, now N wants to ride and L wants to continue to push anyway. The journey is long, while N may have given L a wild ride full of circles, weaving and bobs; L gives him a S-L-O-W leisurely ride. She can barely push him and refuses all offers of help. N, being ever so helpful says, "its okay, Mommy, I like to go slow" SIGH... the trek continues. But wait there’s an inclined wall to stop and climb, and then L decides to lie face down on the sidewalk and lick it. Or was she trying to lick up the ants... I just didn’t want to know. Finally, I promise we can stop at the church and play on the steps if only they will "hustle", "what’s hustle, Mommy?" "Move your bootie!"

We get to the church, with great glee N runs down the ramp around the front grassy area and back to the ramp again. L heads straight for the rose garden with the tiny pebble beds. Before you can say, "Holy Mary, Mother of God" the receptionist is out the door, apparently having nothing better to do but to keep an eagle eye out for trespassers in the rose bed, warning me that the children are to keep all the pebbles in the beds. In not one of my finer moments, I reply (snap?) that yes, we are aware of this as someone tells us this every time we are on the grounds. And further more in all the times we are on the grounds we have always made sure the rocks, excuse me, pebbles are cleared from the sidewalk.... I turn to walk away, wondering for the umpteenth time why a church cares more about the rose garden then the enjoyment of watching two children playing in the sunshine?

One more block and we’ll be home. L continues to push N, this time letting me ‘steer, but not push’. Cross the last street, I can see the house, no wait L has to stop and try and climb the tree and N has decided now is the time to walk quickly. Quickly down the sidewalk to chase a squirrel and ask it some question (I never got close enough to hear the conversation..drat!) Who to chase first?!? N is lured in by the earlier promise of PB& J L must be physically carried into the house, singing all the way, "jingle bells, jingle way hey!"

All this took only 90 minutes... there is still an afternoon of naps, crafts and dinner (where L will eat the veggies and not the meat and N the opposite). Yippee!

you can fly

"Sometimes, just sometimes, when no one is looking you fly" N said to me with all sincerity, and yet with a knowing twinkle in his eyes. Did I dispute this statement, nope... I just couldn't bring myself to say it wasn't true.

In a world where children seem to grow up faster then ever before, I like the fact that my kids believe in Santa Claus, think their toys enjoy listening to bedtime stories as much as they do, want to play games that require their imagination as much as watch tv, and yes think I can fly.

Bunk beds and a ghost named Tiki

We got bunk beds this weekend and the kids have adjusted very well. L, as I predicted, has mastered the ladder to the top bunk and would spend all day climbing up and down if we would only let her. She doesn’t want to sleep up top, mind you, she just wants to climb up and down. I thought perhaps there would need to be a period of adjustment, L would stay in the crib for a few more days and N would slowly warm up to the top bunk. Nope, everyone moved in one day one and except for one evening where I found L blanket and all curled up on the floor next to her crib, it’s been smooth sailing. It probably helps that there’s the cute contraption that my sister, the crafty-wonder-mom (I say that with great love and admiration, I wish I could do what she can do. Hell, I wish I wanted to do what she can do ...lol) made for her boys when they had the crib. It makes the beds feel like a little house. N loves sleeping on the "roof" and says, ‘L can sleep in my house’. Notice it’s HIS house and not her bed. Ownership is a big deal these days.

L mastered opening doors with doorknobs this week. So now, in addition to being able to climb in and out of bed at will, she can leave the bedroom and wander pretty much anywhere she wants in the house now. So far she's wandered into our room to climb into bed with us.(Yes, Supernanny we encourage her to go back to her own bed) I will, however, not be surprised to hear her in the kitchen looking for a 'nack' or attempting to put a movie into the vcr one night. She is very independent this girl, and I see a long future of tongue biting in my future.

N has a new friend named"Tiki" (inspired by the "Tiki, Tiki, Tiki Room" song on our Classic Disney Songs cd, I am sure) Tiki is a ghost who is very nice and just hangs out in the house. He was living in the hall closet at first, but decided that he liked sleeping on the top bunk with N better. He also really likes to hear, "Francis the Talking Alligator" stories (rule 472:if you make up a stories to tell your kid, you'd better remember them, because they will). N tells me that sometimes Tiki gets up at night and wanders the house, but mostly he just sleeps alot. We don't know what Tiki looks like, but I can tell you he is small enough to sit in N's hand when being introduced to people.

That's it from the peanut farm. We'll have reports on the progress in the veggie garden soon.