Always Remember That

Mallory: Mommy, will you read me this book? Me: Sure. The Animal Alphabet . How about, I'll say the letters and you name the animal in the picture. Mallory: Okay! Me: Here we go. A is for... Mallory: Lizard! Me: Well, actually, that's an armadillo. Good try! B is for... Mallory: Cow! Me: Yeah, that's a buffalo. They're kind of like cows, though, so you were close. C is for... Mallory: Moose! Me: Mallory, that's a camel . It doesn't even look like a moose. Let's move on. D is for... Mallory: Whale! Me: Well, okay, you're in the ballpark, but that's a dolphin, actually. E is for... Mallory: Bird! Me: That's a kind of bird called an eagle. That was a good guess. F is for... Mallory: Wolf! Me: That would be a fox . G is for... Mallory: Monkey! Me: And that would be a gorilla. But gorillas and monkeys are similar, you're right. Okay, I know you'll get this one. H is for... Mallory: Pony! Me: Horse! It's a horse ! A pony would be smaller th...

Mallory went to play with her across-the-street friends last week. I think that I’ve previously referred to them as Maggie and Lizzie, so I’ll stick with that although those are not their actual names. Anyway. Mallory used to love to play with Maggie and Lizzie, would beg every day to play with Maggie and Lizzie, and in fact spent every Friday of last school year over there. Well, she came home last Sunday and said, “I am never going to play at Maggie and Lizzie’s house again. You can’t make me.” Upon questioning, she would only say that they were mean to her. She wouldn’t provide any other details, but she has remained steadfast in her refusal to play with them. A couple of times she’s said, “Can I play with Maggie and Lizzie –“ and then caught herself and said, “—oh wait, they’re mean, never mind.” I don’t know exactly what happened. I have noticed in the past that the oldest was a bit snotty to Mallory, but not earth-shatteringly so. I certainly don’t think that their mother would h...

I feel like I should apologize for not updating for so long. Then I feel a bit immodest for wanting to apologize – what, do I think there are so many people waiting with baited breath for my next post? It’s a weird thing, having a blog. My reasons: I was in internet blackout mode for much of last week (insofar as possible, given that I work in web design) for fear of Harry Potter spoilers. I’ve been busier at work than I normally am. And my kids haven’t done anything interesting, funny, or adorable lately so what’s to write about? (Joke.) Our parish priest died in his sleep a few nights ago. I was talking to my mother-in-law about it, and she said she can’t figure out the reason behind it. (By which she meant the cosmic reason, not the actual reason – he died of sleep apnea, apparently.) I was struck by that. I’ve never been one to believe that “everything happens for a reason.” Is there a reason that Aimee’s friend , a young woman of three young children, may not live to see her kids ...

Since two-thirds of my regular readers have asked this question, here’s an answer. I read all the time. It’s true and it’s no doubt to my detriment. The only times I ever got in trouble at school, it was for reading when I should’ve been paying attention to the teacher instead (2nd grade – Mrs. Duggins; 6th grade – Mrs. Thurman). If I didn’t read so much, my house would be much cleaner and my kids would have up-to-date photo albums. If I didn’t read so much, I’d probably be in much better shape physically and I would have completed the redecoration of my house. People say that life is the thing, but I prefer reading. (Somebody else said that, but I believe it!) Specifically. I read while I brush my teeth. I read while I blow-dry my hair. I read at red lights (a very bad habit, I know). I read while cooking dinner if the children are otherwise engaged. I read during my lunch hour (panic ensues if I forget to bring a book with me to work – I try to keep a spare magazine in the car for th...

I promised fabulous tales of our fabulous vacation, didn’t I? As it turns out, I don’t have that many. It was fabulous, but it can also pretty much be summed up with : One house, seven kids, seven adults, lots of laughs, lots of whining, Scrabble at night. My girls were obviously affected, however, by spending a week with their four boy cousins. For example, one morning a few days after we came home, Chris told Phoebe that it was time to get dressed. She looked him over, pointed to his boxer shorts, and said, “You dress your butt, Daddy!” Which was certainly an unprecedented turn of phrase. As for Mallory – well, once we got to my mom’s house, she decided quite quickly that cousin Rhett was her new boyfriend. (This makes sense – her school boyfriend has reddish hair and glasses just like Rhett does.) She spent a full morning chasing Rhett around declaring her love for him, to his utter mortification. The day Aimee and the boys left, she and Rhett entered a negotiation over the ownershi...

Dear Phoebe, It's your second birthday! You're the second child, so you're used to seconds -- second-hand clothes, second-hand books and toys -- not to mention a mother who's doing a second-rate job of maintaining things like your baby book and photo albums. I know that shoved in the back of my sock drawer is the post-it note I used to record contractions the night I went into labor with you, and I think I saw your hospital bracelet tucked in the back of our kitchen junk drawer. I did scribble down most of your "firsts" on a calendar: first tooth -- six months; first step -- ten months; first word -- doggie; first time you slept through the night -- well, we're still waiting for that, aren't we? Life has been so busy and full since you came along that I just don't have time to sort out all the memorabilia. Maybe when you're twelve I'll get around to it. I never had second thoughts about you, but I admit there were times I second-guessed mys...

Vacation was lovely. Am back at work and very sleepy. No energy to tell fabulous vacation stories. Just this one little snippet: Mallory has a stuffed dog that she carries around and sleeps with and hugs and squeezes and calls George. Well, not really. The point is, it's her favorite. So last week Phoebe got hold of it, Mallory was enraged, and either Chris or I intervened by saying: "Phoebe, this is Mallory's special puppy. She doesn't have to share it because it's special, so you need to give it back." A few hours later Mallory gave me a hug. Phoebe saw, came running over, shoved Mallory aside, and said, "No, Mommy's SPECIAL to me!"

The first time I brought Chris back home with me (home being the Texas Panhandle) was May 1996. The occasion was my brother and sister's high school graduation, and the weater was awful. The region was experiencing worse-than-usual drought conditions and there were horrible dust storms raging. The sky was a nice shade of brown. Chris claims to be impressed by the dust devils and tumbleweeds, but meteorologically speaking, I'd hoped for something a bit nicer. The second time we went home together, it was Christmas 1997. There was a raging blizzard this time and we were snowed in for three or four days. The third time was June 1998, and this occasion was our wedding. It was hot. It was asphalt-meltingly hot. When I drove by the bank (yes, in our town it's just "the" bank) on my way to church, the temperature was 109. After the ceremony we went to my grandparent's house to set up for a BBQ (yes, it's Texas, I can say BBQ) dinner and my granddad announced that...

Food Safety Phoebe gave the dog a biscuit last night and said, “Don’t choke, Finn! Don’t choke!” Bad Language A few weeks ago Chris came through the door carrying a box and Mallory greeted him with, “What the hell is that?” So they had a discussion about appropriate and inappropriate language. She took it to heart but is now perhaps a bit overcautious – she questions the “badness” of any unfamiliar phrase. A few days ago while looking through a catalog she said, “Well, that’s a fine-looking thing!” – and then glanced up at me and said, “Is it okay for me to say, ‘fine-looking thing’?” Fairness Yesterday afternoon Mallory started Gymnastics at a local gym. I had planned to hang out in the waiting area with Phoebe during Mallory’s class. The gym and waiting area are separated with a huge glass wall, so parents can see what the kids are doing. Unfortunately this also meant that Phoebe could see what the kids were doing, and she wanted in on that action. Major tantrum ensued. “I want to JU...

I'm feeling a bit self-conscious today. I'm wearing a yellow shirt. I haven't worn yellow in years, honestly, probably not since junior high when I had a "color analysis" done and was told I should never, ever wear yellow. Even my kids were surprised when I got dressed this morning. "Lellow!" Phoebe said, and Mallory said, "You're wearing yellow today?" It's a nice butter yellow, very subtle, it's nothing brash or loud. It goes nicely with my pants. I noticed that it makes my hair looks a bit blonder and my skin is kind of glowy. Maybe I should wear yellow more often. Gasp. What's next for me? High heels? String bikinis? (No, and most definitely no.) Phoebe choked on a Life Saver this weekend. Longest twenty seconds of my life. It was pretty spectacular, especially since she'd just eaten a red popsicle. She is fine, the dress she was wearing and the carpet in Chris's studio may never be the same. On Saturday we piled in...

I'm all for celebrating milestones, and I am the type of mother who saves greeting cards and paintings and well-baby-check-up receipts, but this was too much even for me: That's Phoebe "graduating" from Parent's Morning Out. Which only means that next fall she'll be in the 2-year-old classroom instead of the 1-year-old classroom. The wisdom of holding a graduation ceremony for such an occasion is equal only to the wisdom of dressing small children -- who are freaked out and want nothing but to be held by their mommies -- in plastic grocery bags on a 95-degree day.

Mallory: This sand is really gooshy today. B (across-the-street friend): I'm making footprints. Mal: Well I'm making a sandcastle. Phoebe: Hi Bay! Hi Bay! Hi Bay! Me: B, Phoebe is saying hi to you. B: Oh. Mal: I watched a movie today. B: Me too, I watched The Fox and the Hound . Mal: Well I watched Drop Dead Fred . Me: You did ? Mal: Yeah, it's a really good movie. It's about a girl named Elizabef and her imaginated friend. He's invisible. It's my favorite movie now. It's really good. Really. Phoebe: Weevie, Bay! I watch weevie! I watch weevie, Bay! B: I'm done with my sandcastle. I'm the queen! Mal: Well I'm the mommy. No, how 'bout you be little girl and I'm the mommy. B: No, I'm the queen. Mal: No, how 'bout you're the princess. Wouldn't you rather be a princess? Because when you're a princess you're more beautiful and...and... danceable . B: Well, okay. Phoebe: Punce, Bay! A punce! [Princess] B: My mom says I c...

Not only did we pay big bucks for tickets to see "Sesame Street Live," plus Ticketmaster fees, plus parking fees... plus $6 for a tub of "pop-orn": plus $4 for a bottle of water: ...we also shelled out for the souvenirs: ...including matching t-shirts, of course: (Look! It's a picture of Phoebe and Mallory in which Phoebe is not crying!) Millions of dollars were spent, but the kids had fun at the show. Although honestly, the popcorn was Phoebe's favorite part. Speaking of musical events, the kids have recently been watching Annie . I myself had never seen Annie until a few weeks ago. It's mostly cheesy, but Carol Burnett is hilarious as Miss Hannigan. ("Why anyone would choose to be an orphan is beyond me" -- what a great line.) Anyway, Phoebe has started to sing "Tomorrow" at odd intervals throughout the day. And she always gives it the big finish: "To-mo-yow, to-mo-yow, I you, to-mo-yow, always DAAAAAYYY WAAAYYYY!" Broadw...

On the last day of school, Mallory's teacher said to me: "I just love Mallory. If I had to become a kid again -- god forbid -- I think I'd want to come back as Mallory." I can't think of a nicer compliment.

A few weeks ago I read Wasted: A Memoir of Anorexia and Bulimia by Marya Hornbacher. And of all the things that I don’t want happening to my daughters as they grow up, I think first on that list is having an eating disorder. The author first decided she was fat at the age of five. By nine, she was making herself throw up once a day. She was in and out of hospitals and mental institutions throughout high school and college. At the age of 20, she weighed 52 pounds. 52 pounds – that’s less than Mallory weighs now. Eating disorders are so insidious. They’re so hard to control, to recover from. Even while writing her book, Hornbacher insisted that she wasn’t cured. (And the disease has had long-term repercussions on her health – she can’t have babies, she has depleted bone and muscle mass, her immune system is shot.) There is no cure, there is only coping. It’s not like alcoholism or drug abuse – everyone has to have some kind of relationship with food. I think in this culture it’s extrem...

I’m glad it’s summer. For one thing, it means the end of the morning rush to get the kids up, dressed, fed and out the door at a specific time. I’m really bad at that so it’s nice to have a three-month reprieve. For another thing, it means that the girls will have a lot more time to spend together, and that’s nice because they’re finally at the stage that they can actually play together and have real conversations. For example, the other morning I was up getting dressed while the kids slept. I heard Phoebe making noises so I went down the hall to get her. Then I stopped outside the door because she wasn’t actually calling for me, she was singing a song. I listened for a minute, and then I heard Mallory say, “Phoebe, are you singing?” “Yeah!” Phoebe said. “What are you singing about?” “My toes hurt!” “Your toes hurt?” “Yeah.” “Why do your toes hurt?” “A-cause.” “Well, I’m sorry about that.” “My-ee’s toe hurts?” “No, my toes are okay.” “Oh. Good!” They like to play Barbies together too –...

Today was Mallory’s last day of preschool. Here she is posing with Phoebe. Ignore Phoebe, who as usual was refusing to cooperate. Here she is on her very first day, two years ago: Look at that face! I’ve loved her preschool. I can’t think of one complaint I had in the two years she was there. I hope she fares as well in “big school.” Their closing program was last night. Can you see her, way in the back? (Yeah, she's the tallest child in preschool.) The kids sang one of my favorite songs -- “This Little Light of Mine” -- (I have an odd memory of me, my brother and sisters, and my mom singing that song in front of the whole church while my mom played guitar. Did that really happen?) although they didn’t sing my favorite verse, “Don’t let Satan whoosh it out! I’m gonna let it shine…” Maybe they don’t teach kids about Satan anymore. Anyway, I’m proud of my little light. She’s learned and grown so much in the past two years, it’s hard to believe. I was a bit teary all day, and it’s n...

Everyone else with a blog is doing this, so why not me? Here are 7 things you may not know about me. 1. I often get obsessed with topics and spend weeks reading everything I can find about them. This happened much more often in college and graduate school, mostly when I was procrastinating doing my actual schoolwork. Examples include: the fate of the Romanov family (Anastasia did, sadly, die with the rest of them); the Lindbergh kidnapping (I don’t think Hauptmann did it); and Robert Falcon Scott’s expedition to the South Pole (I don’t think he was a great leader, but I also think he had some really bad luck). 2. I have breastfed both of my kids well into toddlerhood. I know that’s out of the ordinary and it’s nothing I really planned to do; it’s just that we kept hitting the “usual” cut-off dates (6 months, 9 months, 1 year) and I couldn’t think of any real good reason to stop. Mallory nursed until she was 32 months (although only for naps and bedtime for about the last six months of ...

Chris's kidney stone exited on Tuesday and he is all better now. Hooray! I have not been very bloggy lately. I have thoughts in my head but not much motivation to write them out. Perhaps I'll try harder next week. Perhaps not. In the meantime, here are some recent Phoebe funnies: Yesterday morning while my back was turned, Mallory poured syrup all over Phoebe's waffle. Phoebe cried: "I don't like syr-sup! Mommy! Affle broke!" We had this conversation over and over yesterday: P: How are you Mommy? Me: I'm fine, Phoebe, thanks! How are you? P: Good! Thank you! How are you Mommy? Me: I'm fine, Phoebe, how are you? P: Good! How are you Mommy? Last night with Mallory: P: My-ee! My-ee! My-ee! Mallory (finally): What? P: Um...eight nine ten elenen, My-ee! After taking a sip of Chris's soda: "Delicious!" P: Watch this Mommy! Watch this Mommy! Me: Okay, I'm watching. P: (takes a big step) I jumped, Mommy! Hooray Phoebe! If she wants something ...

Chris has a kidney stone, so he now has an inkling of what I went through to bear his children. However, saying cheerily, “Now you know how labor feels!” to someone who has a kidney stone isn’t really recommended. At least not until the drugs kick in. We spent the morning in the ER. Then I had to run in to work while Chris stayed home all doped up. We hope this passes quickly, but your kind thoughts are appreciated. In totally unrelated news: Last night I got home and just didn’t feel like making dinner, so I suggested we get dinner from the Sonic that just opened down the street from us. “What’re we gonna do, eat in the car?” Chris asked skeptically. “Yeah!” I enthused. “I loved eating Sonic in the car when I was a kid, it’ll be fun!” I soon learned that eating Sonic in the car isn’t so much fun when you’re a parent. Although I did forget to try to convince Mallory that there was a little man in the speaker box that ran the order back to the restaurant, as my dad convinced me so long ...