Wednesday, August 31, 2005

school and stuff.

It's almost time to pick up Bebe and Lulu from their first day of first grade. Today has been unexpectedly upsetting. No, I'm not tearful or sobbing -- I just feel a bit off-kilter and stressed.

For kindergarten, at our elementary school, there is a stand-alone building that's fenced in and has a dedicated playground. Really, it felt much more like preschool than real school, I think. But today, all we knew was which of the 2 classrooms the girls were in. There was a list of instructions -- drop your backpack next to your class door, go to the large playground, line up when the bell rings, follow your teacher to class. No instruction about where the line will be, no teacher available to tell us if they collect lunch money for the week or do the kids need to bring money each day, nothing. I was just glad I made a mental note of some of the other kids in each of the girls' classes and then I sent them in the right direction. I also very sternly told them not to give their lunch money to any other kids. (At daycamp, Bebe would just give her extra cash to any kid who asked. Not a good thing when eating depends on that money, though.)

I'm sure everything is swell and we'll have lots of talking on the walk home. Bebe was a little concerned that her best kindergarten friends are all in Lou's class. I had to remind her that she made friends at daycamp this summer really quickly and easily. That seemed to make her feel a little better.

Homework tonight!

Saturday, August 27, 2005

losing a tooth.

By the way, Bebe lost her tooth the day after I posted about how wobbly and wiggly it was. She was brushing her teeth before bed, and it came right out.

She was very excited and we made a big production of putting the tooth on the Tooth Fairy Saucer on the kitchen counter. Then she was quick to try and get to sleep.

There was much excitement the next morning. And pictures of her brand-new, jack-o-lantern smile. She sticks her tongue in the little space a lot, which is adorable. And, every so often, she says, "Mommy, look at me!" And when I look, she smiles really big and then says, "I'm a jack-o-lantern!"

It's cute. And I'm surprised at how it also makes me a little bit sad.

threat with no teeth.

The girls had all been excused from the dinner table and were playing in their bedroom. Archie and I were finishing up. Lulu came out to the kitchen and said, "Sissy won't let me play in her fort. Make her let me play!" I replied, "I am not getting involved in this. You have to work out a solution yourselves."

Lou turned back to the hallway and yelled, "If you don't let me play, I won't play with you for a whole year!" Before I could even get my mouth open to say how that was a pretty extreme threat, Bebe called out, "You don't even know when a year ends!"

Yeah, I laughed. I'm a bad person.

Wednesday, August 24, 2005

a changing smile.

Elizabee has been worrying her loose bottom tooth and it's been really wobbly for a day or so. And tonight, when all the girlies were brushing their teeth, I noticed that there was a little line of blood around that tooth -- it is just barely hanging on. I showed her in the mirror and she was all excited. Then I told her to smile at me because I wanted to see her smile before it changed. She got a little weepy.

"Mommy, I like my smile. I don't want it to change."
"Oh, sweetie! I love your smile, too! But, it has changed so much, you just don't realize it. I remember when there were no teeth at all. And then two little top ones. And then four. Until all your baby teeth were in. And soon, you'll have a jack-o-lantern smile and then your grown-up teeth will come in. I think it's kind of exciting."

She sniffled a little and then she whispered, "I just like things the way they are. I don't want everything to change."

How do you reply to that? Poor little girl. I hugged her and told her I have loved watching her grow up and change and I plan on loving all the changes she'll go through as she gets older. That seemed to console her a little. She's such a beautiful, crazy, funny girl.

Soon she'll have a new beautiful, crazy, funny smile.

Sunday, August 21, 2005

six feet under.

You know, the TV show.

I watched the pilot episode and had to talk myself into watching the next. Mostly because the creator (Alan Ball) annoys me and he annoyed me with the pilot. See, I hated "American Beauty", which he wrote, and I found some things in the first episode of "Six Feet Under" to be too annoying and cutesy. My biggest gripe was the advertisements for undertaking supplies that were interspersed throughout. Ugh. I'm sure Ball thought they were edgy and enlightening. Sorry -- they were simply stupid and irritating.

But, I figured the man couldn't possibly write and direct every episode of an ensemble drama, so I stuck around. I found every other installment of the first season quite good and engrossing -- with the exception of the season finale which (surprise!) Ball wrote and directed.

Then, well, I had a baby, and couldn't get too excited about a death every week and I gave up on the second season after a few shows. I should probably feel badly about this and get the DVDs from NetFlix. But I don't think I will.

Then I heard that the series was ending and there was some big stuff that was going to happen. Woo! And I watched the last few episodes. And, lo, they were good. Painful, but real and true -- well, as real and true as it can be with ghosts and all that.

The finale worried me. Because Ball was handling the whole thing. And, near the end, there was a scene with Nate all in white, lipsynching and I thought, "Here we go. Now it will start to suck." But it was a dream. And then the last, what, 15 minutes? Pretty wonderful. I think it might have been the perfect ending to the series.

And damn that Lauren Ambrose. They couldn't make her look old, could they? (I'm thinking the very elderly Claire was someone else.)

Saturday, August 20, 2005

referral madness.

2 people have visited because of strange searches. "Novocaine slug" was one. Which is not that strange, except what would that be? A bullet tinged with a painkiller? I'm confused.

Someone from Argentina came here from a Yahoo search for "friends episode ross pant". And how could this person pass up the number 5 hit, entitled, "naked"? I'm guessing it was almost impossible.

Forgive my ramblings about my referrals and hits. I'm sure I'll get all jaded and cynical and grossed out at some point. But right now it's all fun and silly.

(Does anyone like my silly reference to "Reefer Madness"? Hmm? No? Oh, well, I tried.)


My girls fight. They bicker. They pick at each other. They pound on each other. The twins are especially bad. I think they've been fighting since they were in the womb. Lulu's newborn picture shows her with a scowl, tiny fists clenched next to her face, and she looks a little beaten up. (I know those scratches are self-inflicted. But it amuses me to think that they fought even before they were born.)

Obviously, we would like for them to get along, and barring that, to avoid the punching. The kicking. The scratching. Lou was really awful about beating on Bebe. And Bebe would just kind of take it and wail -- she never retaliated. I remember Lulu biting Bebe's head when they were babies. Or biting Bebe's finger when it would find its way into Lou's mouth. I think the sentence I most repeated, even before it could be understood, was, "She's going to be bigger than you and she won't just take it forever. She's going to beat you up if you don't stop."

And, of course, that came to pass. Bebe became more defensive and Lou ended up with the scratches and bruises. So, we have been trying to teach them to walk away from their fights. To come and tell Archie or me when things are getting out of control. Probably all the things every other parent tries and which fail repeatedly because they're kids and they just can't be perfect all the time.

This morning, Lou and Beebs were trying to figure out which DVD to watch for slumber party night. They were doing an elimination game and it was going well. The spirit of cooperation was evident. ChaCha and I went into the bathroom to brush her teeth.

Lulu came in, all flustered. She said she and Bebe were arguing, so she just walked away. Wow. Good for you. Then Elizabee came in and complained because, essentially, Lou didn't stay to fight. They both agreed on what had happened, but I had to take Lou's side -- I felt she'd done the right thing by leaving instead of fighting.

Of course, that gave them fuel for another argument. I went into the kitchen and had a cup of coffee. Sometimes the arbiter needs a break.

Friday, August 19, 2005

fun lunch.

I was bored and wondering what I could do to make lunch a little more interesting. I pulled out the waffle iron and we made grilled cheese sandwiches that look like waffles! With tomato soup, of course. A big hit. Now we need a name. Weese sandwiches? Cheese waffles? Grilled weeffles? Maybe that's it -- grilled weeffles.

stupid phone number.

When we moved into our house, we got a new phone number. I guess I'd figured we might get some calls meant for the person who had the number before us.

Well, we started to get lots of calls. For someone named Jenna. And, the calls were kind of strange.

"Uh, hi. Is Jenna there?"
"Sorry, no, there's no one here by that name."
"Oh. Do you do private parties?"
"No. This is a private residence."
"So, you don't do bachelor parties?"
"No. Sorry. Good bye."

After a number of these calls, I came to the realization that Jenna was a stripper or something along those lines. And some of the guys who called were rude. One guy asked me how much I would charge to do a party and wouldn't let it go, so I had to hang up on him. Really not sorry about that, rude guy.

Those calls have tapered off, thankfully. Now, someone thinks our number is a fax number. I'll rush to answer and get a loud beep. And, those calls come at all hours. Maybe we should get caller ID so I can contact the loser who rings my number at 4am and gives me a heart attack.

Thursday, August 18, 2005


I think the loss of the very first baby tooth is near at hand. Bebe's bottom tooth is so wiggly I suspect a firm tug would pull it out. I would never do that, though. But it is exciting.

I get to be the tooth fairy!

Wednesday, August 17, 2005

theme songs.

I love my husband. He makes up new lyrics to songs -- especially TV theme songs. A classic in our household is:

So no one told you you were gonna feel this way
Your job's a joke, you're broke
You've got frog DNA

That's funny, right? Especially with the obligatory hand clap. Then last night, we watched "Rescue Me" and now we have the popular:

We have 3 kids
C'mon, c'mon
They're devil spawn
C'mon, c'mon
One day they will all be gone
Away, away, away

Because the kids are driving me a little bit crazy. I love them madly, but why must my baby play in the toilet? Why? When your sister sneaks a piece of your cheese, is the appropriate response to give her a sharp kick in the shin? Are tears the right way to deal with the, admittedly, frustrating process of learning to tie your shoes? (I'm purposely not putting names with the crimes. But I think we all know who the one who's playing in the toilet is. Oh, yes.)

Another random tidbit is that Louisa is fascinated with HGTV. She loves the home improvement shows. Today, she watched a show about new stuff while I cooked dinner and she came into the kitchen after the really cool ones to explain them to me. Her favorite was the heated bathtub. "So you can take extra long baths, Mommy. Isn't that fantastic?" I assured her that it was amazing. "Can we get one? Then you wouldn't have to put more hot water in the tub. Or make us get out just when we were starting to have fun. Can we? Hmmm?"


Although I do want one now.

Tuesday, August 16, 2005

meta stuff.

OK, so I went and downloaded SiteMeter because I've never had a counter or referral log before. Is it bad form to ask some of you who you are? Yeah, probably. I think I know who my Australian reader is, but I've seen a few from Ohio. Which makes me smile because I'm from Ohio -- but I know they're not family because they're from a different area.

Also -- hi to my reader from Germany! Seriously, that is so cool.

For those of you who are reading, thanks. I hope the little things I post are enjoyable and amusing. Feel free to comment. Or not. Whatever, I'm fine with it.

Now I have to start cleaning my filthy house, even though I'd much rather obsessively reload my referral page. Hit me, baby. I'm so 1996, I fear.

Monday, August 15, 2005

oh, the cuteness.

All three of the girls are lying on their tummies on the deck, with their heads hanging over the driveway, watching an ant carry a teeny tiny piece of a leaf. And they're discussing it as they watch. Super cute.

three weeks to bliss.

Don't get me wrong -- I know I have a damn good life. Really. And I do enjoy hanging with the girlies. Especially since, as ChaCha said this morning, "Mama, everyone in our house uses the toilet now!" Aw, yeah. The diapers and the Pull-Ups have been replaced by underwear. My six year sentence is ended. Everyone in our house uses the toilet. Hooray!

But, to get back on topic, in three weeks, I'm getting six hours a week with no children. No little person droning on with, "MommyMommyMommyMommy," until my ears bleed. No reading "Olivia" for the millionth time. No watching "Blue's Clues" while brain cells wither and I wonder how Joe could be so stupid. Heh. Bebe and Lulu start first grade in a little over two weeks and the week after that, Ms. Cha will be starting preschool two days a week.

When the twins started preschool, I made it to the car without breaking into heaving sobs as I rested my head on the steering wheel. But I still had little Cha and I was enjoying the relative simplicity of taking care of one kid as opposed to three. When the big girls started kindergarten, I wasn't too weepy. We'd been through two years of preschool after all. I think I'm emotionally ready to watch Charlotte start off on her own. She's going to be great -- she tried to stay last week when we went to get an application! (Plus, all the teachers have known her since she was six months old. She was kind of like the class mascot.)

What will I do with six whole hours and no demands from my kids? I'm gonna start with a big, fat nap. I don't know what I'm going to do after that. I'm sure I'll think of something.