Obstacle course

The Warrior Dash looks crazy but I kind of want to do it. You get to "Duke's of hazard" slide over 20 cars, repel down rocks, climb over hay bales, and crawl in the mud. My 50-ish friend did it and survived. Think I could?

I'm in training now if you count the obstacle course that the last 7 months have been. Here's that course description:

• Crash through the starting gate at full speed
• Cough your guts out the top, and give birth out the bottom
• Make 31 laps to and from the laundry room
• Tackle toddler eating crayons while holding infant at boob
• Push the stroller 5 miles in a rainstorm
• Stay up three nights in a row
• Dash 2 miles uphill to the office and convincingly make believe you are sane
• Recite The Cat in the Hat backward, from memory
• Strap on 50 pounds of kid and dance to the Grinch song
• Repel 300 ft down into a hormonal ravine and then claw back up using only your fallen out hair and diet coke
• Go on a nit hunt and clean all the bodies, furniture and stuff in the house with a toothbrush
• Recover from (yet another) bout of mastitis and cheerfully cook three meals no one will eat
• Change a diaper with your teeth while nursing a sick toddler
• Step over the "finish line" (where exactly do I find that?), fall over, and pass out

Yup - I think I can handle the Warrior Dash no problem.

I love you, my little obstacle course buddies. You certainly keep life interesting.

Love,
Mama

Irresistible

I could not resist this jacket. I only wish they had it in my size so we could match.

What was that?

Henry, you are starting to talk - looking right at us and making fun noises. Of course none of it makes any sense yet but it is all very interesting.

Ba ba ba plbbbbt pffffft *raspberry* plbbbbbt.

From the sound of it, you are either describing a monster truck rally or a hippopotomus with an extreme case of gas. Either way, we can't wait to hear more.

Pain in the you know where

A whole lot of panic boiled down to about 5 lice eggs in Lucy's hair. The rest of us (I think) are clean but the idea has made my head itch often enough that between all the vacuuming and loads of laundry, I've asked Daddy to check me more than once by flashlight. We followed all the recommended advice. I can only hope others in the school will do the same so we don't get this again. It is no fun!

It didn't seem like lice was very common in Utah where I grew up. I still remember the names of the two kids sent home in third grade because they had it. Here, it seems like many families have at least one run-in and I've talked to moms whose kids have had it multiple times. Serious downside to living in this climate and our chemical-eschewing neighborhood. Plus, the school system no longer checks for it so it can spread widely before people realize it is a problem.

Oh well. Now I know exactly how many loads of laundry it takes to wash every bit of bedding and blanket in the house (8) and Lucy got to watch part of Monsters Inc while we meticulously combed through her hair. TV mid-week and at bed time? It was such a treat, she behaved perfectly and didn't even question why.

Arghhhhh!

Nits!

In your school!

In your hair!

So much for that parenting class. We'll be nuking the house instead.

The magic of Grieg

You were playing in the Swap Shop and found a toy that played a few lines of Hall of the Mountain King by Edvard Grieg.

So daddy downloaded the whole song and played it to you while we told you about Peer Gynt climbing up the mountain to peek in at the trolls dancing. Wow - this got you going and sparks were clearly lighting in your little head. You wanted to listen to that over and over and hear the story of "Pepper" climbing up the mountain. When we got home, we brought out some troll statues we have from Norway and that was it - your brain practically exploded.

Silly us - bringing up such an exciting topic right before bed. Needless to say, it took us a while to wind you back down.

Stealing the show

We took you to a wedding this weekend - a perfect excuse to deck you out in your finery.

Afterward, we took you to hear some music by the Fossil Fools. What a treat! You both heard your first "Sweet Home Alabama," "Mony Mony," and "Jenny" live plus plenty of other greats and an Elvis medley to boot. We had a great time dancing to it all. Lucy, I think you get your moves (and perhaps your lack of inhibitions on the dance floor) from me.

Bouncing baby boy

An expression that definitely exists for a reason.

It fits!

This outfit grandma bought you last winter finally fits perfectly - just in time for the fall weather too. So freakin' cute.
If it's clean, you are wearing it as I love how it looks on you and you love dancing in the "twirling skirt." That's win win fashion style.

Parenting 101

This woman could rent her kids out as a bootcamp for parents. After one week caring for two (!!) sets of twins, managing your home will feel like a breeze. That is, if you survive. I'm pretty sure I'd give up by hour four. Aint no way I'd be taking them to the mountains by myself.

But seriously, training for parenting sounds like a good idea. Can I say one more time that I don't want to learn things the hard way? So I registered your dad and I for a Love and Logic class. The problem is we've already had to miss the first two sessions. Turns out - getting to a class in the evening is not very easy with two children and lives already brimming full.

Oh well - we will just join in late and hope to catch up. I have high hope the class will load us up with the know-how (and jedi mind tricks) we need to keep our house tantrum free. At the very least, the on-site childcare will give us a whole hour to hold hands and talk in complete sentences. Suh-weet.

A walking testimony for school drama programs

Lucy walking by the elementary school...

"Remember that time a long time ago when we saw

the Wizard of Oz there?"

Pause.

"That made me so so so so so so so so SOOO so happy."

It certainly did and it brought a whole new dimension to our lives. I hope our school and others can find the dollars to hold onto drama programs. If one performance can do this to a 2-year-old, the impact to an entire cast of performers, parents, attendees, and beyond must be huge.

Bittersweet changes

I cleaned out your closets this week - another size of clothing out the door. And with it, one more season of our lives.

Relentless change. It just. Keeps. Coming.

At every step, reminding me that I was(am) not prepared to love beings undergoing such constant evolution. There is so much joy – but also loss. Constant celebration – but also mourning.

The happiness of thinking I will never be pregnant again is weighed down by the thought that I will never again own your bodies as part of mine. The thrilling thought that my days of childbirth are over is tempered by the knowledge that I will never stop missing the day I met you both and the way I slept with you in you arms those first few nights.

I did not see this coming. Do other mothers feel the same?

Obviously, I want you to keep growing and changing. I'm excited to see you grow up and become yourselves. But this Lucy – the one who loves piranhas, sings constantly, and can't seem to keep chalk out of her mouth – I am going to miss HER. Dearly!

I already miss previous versions of you. Like the one who clapped after every accomplishment, the one who said "up-a-high" instead of star, and especially the one who would sit in my arms for longer than 5 seconds. You may not remember her but I do. And she's gone. Really, really gone.

And Henry, I am still crying over every inch you grow. You are the littlest baby I will ever have. Do you really have to grow this fast?! The end of this glorious phase of sitting immobile is out there and coming. I dread the day you decide to push yourself beyond your pudgy little arms' reach. Then I will have 2 self-directed beings under my care and nothing will EVER be the same.

Drool. Smile. Suck on The Hands.

Clearly, you don't understand the significance of what I'm typing about.

So far, every edition of you both has been replaced by one even more wondrous. I may look back with longing but I am still looking forward and excited about the developments you are going through, the milestones you are achieving. There is yet, no sense of real regret or failure.

I fear it is out there.

And scary is the thought that one day I will miss your younger self more than I understand who you are in the moment and more than I long for the next edition. Isn't that the curse of parents and their adolescent children? Somewhere in those years, that line gets crossed?

Oh well, we have a long time before that day and maybe it will never be so.

Today, I am more concerned that I will never again see you in this particular outfit. This once darling and now stained dress that you've worn all summer and now smells like you even just out of the wash. It is convincing evidence that I will never again have a summer with my curly-headed, obsessed with the wizard, two-year-old.

So - I'm pulling it off the pile. I'm squeezing you into it one more time. And tonight, we will find just enough sunlight to stay outside after dinner drawing rainbows and gobbleums (all too soon to be goblins) while Henry watches from his jumper, squawking his delight at our little backyard world.

One more time. Just for me.

Haircut

Staying ahead of Lucy's snarls has gotten to be too much lately so today, I cut it. Normally, I'd leave such a job for the professionals, but I decided with all those curls, it wouldn't really have to be perfectly straight. AND, at home we have a secret weapon to keep you still that they surely would not have at Super Cuts: The Wizard of Oz. It worked like a charm.

Before...

And really, could it be much worse? Never mind that the last time I cut someone's hair, he ended up with white walls.

After...

Mischief managed!