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July 9th, 2009

Just overheard


Becca (in the bedroom):  A chicken is trying to get into my house!
Kylie (in the bathroom):  A what?!
Becca:  A chicken!  It's trying to get into my house!
Kylie:  Well, I can't help you.  I'm going potty.
Becca:  It's still trying to get into my house!!
Kylie:  Well, kill it!
Becca:  Hi-yah! (best karate chopping sound)

May 11th, 2009

This is a lovely little piece. Found by my friend Carrie and posted by her on Facebook.

At My Place, Every Day Is Mother's Day

by Scott Simon

My wife doesn't work. She's a full-time mother. She luxuriates in bed until 6:30 a.m., when our 2-year-old chants, "Mama, Mama!" like some ancient war call, and she trudges into the kitchen with our baby on one shoulder to use her free hand to heat milk.

I stay in my office, writing, procrastinating and checking baseball scores until I need another cup of coffee.

My wife tries to go to the bathroom. Our 2-year-old clings to her knees. Using a bathroom with a 2-year-old on your lap should be a rodeo event.

Our 6-year-old gets up and chirps, "Mama! Mama!" My wife holds our 2-year-old in one arm, our 6-year-old with the other, and heats up more milk with her third hand.

I come into the kitchen for more coffee.

She dresses our daughters. It's like trying to put tuxedo shirts on two squiggling ferrets. My wife walks our daughters 10 blocks to kindergarten, but it takes half an hour because our girls won't step on cracks, stop to look in every window and stomp in every puddle. She has to pull them along like sacks of nails.

When she gets back to our apartment, my wife can finally relax. She does laundry; pays bills; stays on hold with the credit card, Internet and phone companies for 45 minutes because the bill is wrong, while our 2-year-old swings from her neck like a chimp; resets the wireless service; changes diapers and light bulbs; buys food; picks up toys; cleans the fish bowl and hermit crab habitat; organizes closets; cleans what our cat coughs up; schleps to the storage locker; tries to take a shower but can't because our 2-year-old can't find her stuffed dog; picks up our 6-year-old from school and takes her to ballet; makes three meals and innumerable snacks; calls our mothers and sends them photos of their grandchildren; and wipes up milk, water and diaper spills the way Red Adair put out oil fires.

I help by calling my wife a couple of times a day to tell her how busy I am and ask, "Um, darling, can you find my red socks?"

She has four minutes a day to herself and eats only Cheerios that fall on the floor. She works 15 hours a day with no breaks or mandated meals, 365 days a year with no real vacations. Our daughters feel free to cough up and sneeze things into her hands. If Samuel Gompers heard about my wife's working conditions, he'd say, "Organize and fight!"

Instead, she knows that in these times it's a gift to be able to be a full-time mother. You know: just to be home with the kids.

May 7th, 2009

May 1st, 2009

My sweet Kylie

Today in the car Kylie was being super sweet to Rebecca, very nurturing and caring. I commented to her that, should she ever choose to have kids, she would make a good mom. She says back to me (without missing a beat), "Well, I'm learning from one of the best moms in the world." *commence heart melting* I am so very lucky to have my precious Kylie for a daughter.

March 24th, 2009

At night

The girls have been asleep for hours by the time we finally make it to bed. I climb over the bed, locate Rebecca's warm, sleeping body, and make a space for myself. More often than not, once I'm settled, she'll scoot towards me and snake her sweet little arms around my neck. Becca's not awake, just reaching out for reassurance that her mom is where she should be - right next to her.

October 25th, 2008



September 23rd, 2008

Thirteen years


Thirteen years ago I said, “I do.”

Thirteen years ago I pledged my love.

Thirteen years ago he became my husband.

Thirteen years ago it was a gorgeous day, just like today.

Thirteen years ago I laughed and twirled in my beautiful dress.

Thirteen years ago he looked so handsome in his tuxedo.

Thirteen years ago I danced in a room full of people but saw only him.

Thirteen years ago I had no idea what lay ahead of us.

Thirteen years ago seems like yesterday.

Thirteen years ago I had no clue that thirteen years later, I’d love him even more than I did on that day.


Happy 13th anniversary to the man I love.

August 19th, 2008

That girl is growing up

Kylie just finished reading her first chapter book today.  She started reading it last night and finished it off this morning.  Amazing!  I think a trip to the book store is in order for this afternoon. 

August 14th, 2008

My baby is six!

My sweet little Kylie Joy turned six today.  Six years old.  I can hardly believe it.  Six is still sweet and innocent but leaves behind the "little" girl.  She's obsessed with Pokemon, has an older boyfriend(!!), and is reading.  Her bike will be without training wheels soon and she is outgrowing all of the clothes I once thought were so huge.  But she still enjoys kid music and the occasional "baby" television show with her sister.  She still allows me to give her drinks in a sippy cup (more to cut down on messes and for convenience) and isn't ready to go to sleep alone yet.  Every day she is working on her independence but there do remain some areas where she still wants and needs parental guidance and help.  I am proud of the intelligent, loving, funny, and sensitive girl she is growing into.  She is my sunshine.  No matter how old she gets, she'll always be my little girl (I made her promise me that).

August 4th, 2008

Me: Should we go get some ice cream?

Rebecca: Yeah!  That sound so gooood!  I will hauwp* it all up.  Hauwp it all up in my stomach. 

*Hauwp (pronounced how-puh, but it's really more of a sound) is a word we came up with to describe the sound Rebecca made/makes when she's chomping down on food.  Now she will often use the word when talking about eating.

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