Beautiful Girls

Have I ever mentioned that I think my kids are brilliant, amazing and beautiful? Oh, I haven't? Well then let me state it now: My kids are brilliant, amazing and beautiful.

Abbi is getting better and better at communicating with us with hand gestures and grunts. Hey, it worked for the cavement (sorry, Geico) and it still works for babies. And, the biggest step lately: I threw away all her bottles. Yes, my baby no longer drinks from baby bottles. I'm so happy! I didn't know how to do it, but I ended up not really having to do anything (I LOVE that!). Abbi drank more and more out of sippy cups and made bottles less and less necessary.

Emma is such a little mommy. She takes care of her baby sister, and as I learned Tuesday at daycare, she takes care of the other kids too.

There was a little boy crying for his mommy at daycare and Emma hugged him, asked him what's wrong, then told him: "I want my mommy too. But my mommy will be here soon, and your mommy will be here soon. Don't cry. I don't cry because I'm a big girl. Your mommy will be here, and my mommy will be here, so don't cry."

How freakin' sweet is that?!?!

They're both just beautiful little bundles of personality (like another mom said today to Emma: oh, you're such a little girl with such a big personality!) and they crack me up every day. Yes, they also drive me nuts, but the good times way out-number the crazy times.

I love the new stages we seem to uncover or develop every day.

Furlough Smurlough

Being a state employee, I have to take a furlough day once a month (stay tuned -- the Legislature is meeting right now to decide if we should take more furloughs, just have our pay cut or maybe get unpaid holidays. Lovely, huh?). As much as I dislike the reduced income that comes with a furlough day, I LOVE being forced to take a day off. We had to sign an agreement that we would do ABSOLUTELY NO work on our furloughs, no e-mail, no phone calls, nothing! And on top of that, during the week of our furlough, we are not allowed to work more than 32 hours. This is to prevent hourly workers from accruing overtime to compensate for the furlough, but it works to the benefit of salaried employees who work overtime but don't get paid for it!

I've tried to use my furloughs for good. Not just sit around the house being lazy, but actually put those days to good use. I've worked on a book proposal, I've gone to Tahoe with Sean and the girls, I've done some much-needed shopping and housecleaning. I try to something productive with those days, even if it's just to clean toilets or restock the fridge.

I'm taking my February furlough tomorrow, and Sean and I decided to go skiing. Mid-week skiing is wonderful because there are no crowds. I'm not a good skier, and lots of other people around me freak me out. We planned every little detail, from when to drop the girls off at daycare to what we'd pack for lunch and at precisely what time we need to board the last lift to get back down the mountain in time to pick the girls up from daycare.

We studied mountain maps and researched the most convenient place to park. We were looking forward to a day of spending time together doing something we both really like to do (hey, it's hard to find ways to spend time together nowadays!).

And then Abbi got sick.

She has been battling a cold for weeks now, and Emma recently started coughing too. I took them both to get their flu shots (second dose) yesterday, and they were running mild fevers so the nurse couldn't give them the vaccinations. And this morning Abbi was so miserable, but I tried taking her to daycare anyway. And the expected phone call came around 10:30 this morning...

"Hi, Beth? This is Kim at daycare. Abbi has a fever. You need to pick her up."

Nooooo!!!!

I figured it would happen, but I was hoping it wouldn't. And we can't take her back for 24 hours after her fever breaks. We'll be lucky to take her back on Thursday. So skiing tomorrow is off.

I'm really happy that the timing worked out so I'm off tomorrow anyway, but Sean and I are both disappointed to miss out on our day together. Sure, skiing is fun, but it's really about the opportunity to do something together. We need that. As much as I need my furloughs to accomplish some housework or work on an ambiguous book proposal, Sean and I really need it too.

But that's how parenthood goes, I guess. Kids will get sick. And I wouldn't pass off the responsiblity to nurse them back to health on anyone else. There's a reason they call it "mothering," and I'll put away the skis at a moment's notice to be here when my baby needs a nose-wipe, a cool bath or a comfy nap.

Red-Headed Temper

I'm not naturally a redhead, but I've always liked red hair. A friend once told me I have the temper to match. Whatever. But it's true, I do have a temper. It's gotten better as I've aged, but I remember just seething with anger when I was younger and realizing I needed to find a way to calm my temper.

My youngest daughter seems to have inherited my temper. (I'd blame it on her daddy, but anyone who knows him knows it takes a nuclear assault to aggravate him.) Abbi does NOT like being told no. Sure, every kid resists the ugly N-O, but this kid REALLY hates it. And it's not just being told no that raises her ire. Don't even think about taking a toy from her! She reacts with a blood-curdling scream, giant tears and a tomato-red face. Then she flops on the floor and writhes like a possessed piggy. (No, I'm not sure what a possessed pig looks like, but I like the alliteration.)

Her theatrics usually launch Emma into a tantrum as well, but more fueled by bewilderment than fear. Emma covers her ears and cries, "She's too loud!" Then she whines and stomps around, mad that Abbi has my attention.

What's a mama to do? She's too young to give her a time-out for her tantrum. And the concept of sharing isn't even on her intellectual horizon yet. And honestly, right now it's just kind of annoying and hard on the ears, but I foresee some real struggles with this one. I have a feeling discipline isn't going to be as easy as "Don't make me count to three!"

Understanding

Abbi is amazing me with her understanding of what's going on around her. Even if she can't talk, she seems to know what we're saying to her and she tries to respond.

When I ask her if she's hungry, she gets very excited and lunges for the high chair. When I ask her if she wants milk, and make the sign for milk, she smiles and jumps up and down. The other day when she was driving me crazy by hanging on my legs while I was trying to make dinner, I told her to go find Emma and play with Emma -- and what do you know?! She turned around and headed for living room where Emma was. Sure, this may have been a coincidence, but I prefer to think my daughter is just brilliant.

I'm really looking forward to being able to really interact with her and understand what she likes to do. I'm trying to teach her some basic sign language so she can tell me when she wants more of something or when she's hungry.

I'm trying to teach her "all done" too so I know that the tantrum she's throwing in her high chair is her attempt at saying "Mom, get that spoon out of my face, I'm done!" Right now it's a little bit of a battle to figure out if she's just tired or really is done eating. I don't want to put her to bed hungry, so I try to shove food in her mouth for as long as she's open to it.

Her level of understanding is increasing every day, and I love it! I love seeing her personality develop. My baby is turning into a real person!

Olympic Fever

Olympic fever has spread in our house. Emma watched figure skating last night and tried to imitate the skaters.

Emma in a Box

Proof again that kids have more fun with boxes than with comes inside the boxes. We told Emma we were going to ship her off to Santa at the North Pole and he'll bring her back at Christmas. She LOVED this idea!

New Carseat

Abbi is finally ready to move up into a forward-facing carseat. Oh, my big girl! So I spent days researching carseats online and comparing prices. I read user reviews and safety reports. I compared sale prices with shipping costs. Pick up in store or have it delivered?

I finally found the carseat for my baby girl. The safety reports are great, the user reviews are glowing, the fabric matches my car, it can be used as a booster seat up to 100 pounds so we'll never have to buy another carseat. And it was on sale and qualified for free shipping. It's perfect.

I obsessively tracked the package online until it was delivered to my door yesterday. Like the dad in "A Christmas Story" when his beloved leg-lamp arrives, I cautiously pulled the carseat out of the box and I swear it glowed and angels sang. Emma helped me test out the straps and reclining mechanism, and she oohed and ahhed over it with me. I kept distracting Sean from his magazine with updates on the carseat's features.

"Oh, honey, look at this knob to tighten the straps!" "Look how easily the seat pad comes off, and it's machine-washable!" "I want to buy Emma this carseat too!" (at this last comment, he finally looked up and said, "No, her carseat is fine." Party pooper.)

This morning I couldn't wait to get Abbi into her new seat.

"Abbi, look at your new seat! Look, you can see out the window now! Mommy can see you in the mirror! Hi, baby! I can see you! Don't spill on it. Check out the arm-rests! No, don't try to eat the arm-rests."

We drove happily toward daycare. I took a photo of her in her new carseat and sent it to Facebook to share my joy. Abbi looked terrified, but I thought it was kinda cute that she was in awe of her new forward-facing seat.

Then I heard a strange burp. Hmmmm, that was odd. Then I heard the unmistakable sound of vomit.

"No! No, Abbi! Stop that. Don't throw up! No, no... no... Oh no!"

Vomit all over Abbi and her new carseat. Emma gagging next to her. Me frantically trying to shove a scented wipe at Emma to mask the smell while keeping the car on the road. Abbi crying. Curdled milk dripping down her chin and off the arm-rests. My day at work flashing before my eyes and my to-do list evaporating in my mind.

Then Abbi smiling and laughing like nothing had happened. Emma still gagging, but Abbi happy as could be. And that carseat still soiled. That damn carseat. Why couldn't it arrive one day later?

Two big kids!

This week I really feel like I'm the mom of two little kids, not two babies. I pack two lunches in the morning and Abbi is greeted by all her "friends" at daycare. (I put friends in quotes because at 12 months old, I don't think she knows they're her friends.)

On Friday both girls will exchange Valentine's Day cards with their classes. And today Abbi got her first "ouch report." Another kid bit her while they were playing, so I had to sign a form saying I was told about the incident.

Yes, my kids are really growing up now. And now it's really getting fun!

Making Pizza

We've been getting into homemade pizza lately. I love pizza, but Round Table delivery tends to run us at least $40, which is NOT in our budget often. So I tried homemade pizza one day several months ago and realized how easy -- and cheap! -- it is. And making it has become a fun, family activity for us.

Emma helps me make the dough because you really can't mess up dumping flour into a bowl. Today I let her help me knead the dough and she loved punching, stretching and folding it. She's a natural, even showing ME how to fold the dough over in the bowl before you punch it again.

Sean is really good at tossing the dough and stretching it into a decent crust (something I don't have the patience for!) so he's in charge of that. Then I get to exercise my culinary creativity with the toppings. One thing I have learned to accept is that I'm a good cook, if I'm following a recipe. But I'm not good at making things up or coming up with creative combinations of flavors. That's why pizza is so fun -- I can't mess it up!

Ok, so Abbi can't really do much with the pizza-making yet, so it's only a 3/4-family activity for now, but it won't be long before she can help punch the dough. And it's cheaper than ordering, it's probably healthier, and we can make it with exactly how we want it. Tonight's menu includes artichoke-chicken-bacon pizza and a classic pepperoni-olive pie. Yum!

Random Updates

First Abbi turns a year old and is walking, now she's moving out of the baby room at daycare! Monday morning, she'll be in the toddler room! This is very exciting. And it means more work for me in the morning. I currently give her a bottle when she wakes up, change her diaper and clothes and let daycare take care of the morning cereal disaster. But now I'll have to feed her breakfast AND pack her a lunch! My baby has to take a lunchbox to daycare! I guess I'd better practice getting up at 5 a.m. again because I have a feeling my mornings are about to get a lot more complicated!

In other news, Emma has a best friend. Her name is Kylah and she's all Emma talks about. Kylah is a couple months more than Emma and just the cutest little thing. Her mom seems really nice, but I don't know her well and don't know if we're quite ready for playdates yet.

Yesterday Emma informed me that she doesn't like Joshua (a boy at daycare) because he took Kylah's toys. Emma said she was going to tell Santa that he's a bad boy. She said he's going to be on the Naughty List because he's mean to Kylah. Yeah, my daughter means business!

And true to sibling-rivalry form, Emma was quite upset when Abbi opened one of her birthday gifts and it was a soft, warm quilt made by their grandma. Emma wanted it and was mad when I told her she had to give it back to Abbi. But I remembered that she had a nearly identical one that grandma gave her as a gift a couple of years ago but that she never wanted to use. I got it out of the closet for her, and sure enough, it's now her favorite blanket because it's just like Abbi's.

I'm beginning to understand the advice to get siblings exactly the same gifts because they'll always want what the other has.