Sophia says...

Ava was playing with a puzzle app on the iPad. I walked by as Sophia was saying to her, "When I was a baby we didn't have iPads to play with."

We drove around our neighborhood last night to look at Christmas light displays. I get car sick every year we do this. I announced that I was starting to feel car sick. Sophia says, after seeing another lit star on a house, "Well I'm starting to get star sick."

Rick told Sophia that she could have a candy cane if she shared half with daddy. Sophia broke the hook part off the candy cane and said, "Here, this is your share."

The other day at Sophia's school party, Santa came to visit. Sophia told us he looked like the other Santa at the Santa dinner. Rick and I told her it was the same Santa. She said, "No, they just dress up as Santa." I asked her why she thought that. She says, "The Santa dinner Santa had a black mustache showing under his white beard. This other Santa had dark hair on his arms. Santa doesn't have dark hair."

Christmas kick-off bonanza

It started the day after Thanksgiving. Sophia had been asking (relentlessly) when we could decorate for Christmas. At first I thought it was cute. Now, not so much. The elves, those little pesks, must have snuck into Sophia's room and sprinkled Christmas cheer all over her. I'm thinking maybe they accidentally dropped the whole damn bottle. It's become her obsession, this Christmas business. We cannot drive in the car with regular music anymore, it has to be holiday music. And she knows when we try to tell her the holiday music is over. She knows all about Sirius-XM radio. It's never over. Ever. Remember that felt advent calendar I made last year? 25 days is much too long for me at this rate; I should have made it 12 days. We've worked on 2 drafts to Santa. Final draft TBD. She's worried the ants will infiltrate our house again this year and eat Santa's cookies. I'm not sure where this stuff comes from. I am a lot more Bah Humbug than FaLaLa-lala. Rick is neither here nor there about it all until the day of Christmas.

On the first week before Christmas countdown we:

• Got the tree.
• Saw the Nutcracker ballet.
• Had dinner with Santa.
• Started the advent calendar. First activity included a scavenger hunt to find candy canes, hot cocoa, and The Nightmare Before Christmas.

20 more days to go...

I'm exhausted already.

I am thankful

It's difficult for me to roll with things. I like to be prepared, plan ahead, organized. I'm sure I have a lot of annoying traits, but this is by far the one that everyone who knows me has to put up with the most. This month in particular has been less than stable for me in the last several years. Bad news, health scares, bad pregnancies, all seem to occur around this time of year. Par for the course, my Mom is dealing with some health issues. It's not my story to tell, but I can tell you that she will be OK. It's life, we live it and we get through it. It makes us stronger, it brings us together. For me, it puts my priorities back into focus. At the end of the day, what really matters in your life? It is at these moments you pull from your inner strength and keep moving forward. So while my immediate reaction to November when it sneaks up on me is to brace myself, it probably couldn't come at a more appropriate time to remind myself to be thankful. Be thankful for what I have, and for who I have in my life. I am thankful.

Happy Halloween 2012

While out Trick or Treating in the rain, Rick asked, "Who is this for anyway? You or the kids?" He's right, they would have been happy dressing up and just going over to Noni's house that night. But I felt inclined to show off their handmade costumes.
















Speaking of being crafty (and tooting my own horn), I made these treats for Sophia's classmates. They will make a reappearance next year for sure! So easy to make and addictive!

Look who's 2!

 

I had planned a birthday party on Ava's actual birthday with the family, but Ava's virus had other plans and decided to give her a gift of a 102 temperature an hour before family was to arrive. So we had a nice big cake (I made it in the shape of an owl, her theme for the party) all to ourselves. And food, lots of food.

This year we had 2 balloons in honor of Julia, one for each girl to let go. We also told Sophia why we are making a tradition of releasing the balloons on Ava's birthday. That felt good to tell her about Julia, but also trickier than anticipated.

 

Sophia says...

Or doesn't say, may be more appropriate. So I pick up Sophia from school today, and the teacher asks to speak to me. Immediate thought: this should be good. Second thought: Dear god, I can only imagine what came out of her mouth. I signed her out and proceeded to look at her sitting quietly waiting for her name to be called, as if the whole scenario might unfold on a jumbo tron displayed on her forehead. Not. I walk over to the teacher and ask what was up. The teacher, with somber face, tells me that Sophia said "F-you" today. But "I didn't hear her say it, a child came up to me and told me she said it. And she didn't say the whole word, she literally said "F-you'." I'm sure my response was perplexed, I might have had an awkward smile, but I was totally baffled where she would actually say an abbreviated "F-you." And in what context? I'll admit that there is occasional swearing in our house. Never the "F" word, in any context. Rick hates when I even abbreviate it to him. If I really, really want to get my point across (heated discussion while we are alone, of course) I will drop the "F bomb" and he will cringe and give me the look, and reprimand me about using the word. Which I find funny. And then I may throw it in a few more times because I'm mad and don't need to be reprimanded. Damnit. So anyway...I told her teacher thank you for bringing it to my attention and I will talk to her about it. We get in the car and I ask her how school was. She said she didn't want to talk about it. I asked her if she'd rather talk about it when Daddy came home, and she said, "Well I was playing with my friends S* and D* and we were playing that game "Eeeny meeny miny mo, catch a tiger by the toe, if you holler, let it go. And then E* came up and said, 'You said a bad word' and then the teacher talked to me." Imagine a big pause. And then I'm trying to figure out how to have a conversation about a non-existent bad word at the same time trying hard not to correct her on her game playing. Seriously, it's "if HE hollers, let him go" not "If YOU" but I guess we wouldn't be in this situation if she knew the right way of playing the game. Which brings me to the conclusion of that little boy must know what "F-you" means, because he tattled on something he clearly misinterpreted. So either Sophia is a genius (you know I'm biased and I think she is super smart) and was able to figure out a way out of getting in trouble by making an elaborate story up, or it was purely miscommunication. I'm guessing miscommunication here. My predicament is that it's Friday. So I have to wait until Monday to clear my child's name. And my name. Because we all know the teacher believes she heard it in the home.

Pregnancy and Infant Loss Remembrance

October 15 marks Pregnancy and Infant Loss Awareness. Last year many friends and family supported our cause to the Cincinnati Fetal Care Center in honor and remembrance of Julia. We were overwhelmed by the love and support. There are many great organizations at your local Children's hospitals and even the well known March of Dimes that works to prevent birth defects and infant mortality.

Over two years ago we found out we were having identical twins. We were faced with impossible decisions that made us question our morals and our faith. I went from trying to detach from a seemingly doomed pregnancy, to giving all my heart and soul to bring these two girls into the world.
Almost two years ago we said good-bye to Julia and welcomed Ava into the world. I would not say it's gotten easier over time. It's a daily battle of mind over matter. I think of how things were supposed to be and tell myself that if they were supposed to be then they would have been. It's a hard lesson to learn that there is just no making sense of some things. I replay the precious moments we had with Julia over and over, and yes, I fantasize that things went differently. I wish I spent more time with her, wish I would not have had the photographer in the room "making memories" but instead focused on leaving that imprint on my heart and mind.

There are some things I can handle better this year than last year. I do not feel a stab of pain when I hear about anything related to identical twins. That was a tough one, given that my best friends are identical twins. I've learned to censor myself when it comes to talking about Julia to complete strangers, and even to people that know what we went through. It is unfair to them and unfair to me. I still get choked up. A lot. I get sidelined by a grief so intense that it takes my breath away. I look at Ava every single day and wonder how this has already shaped her--I believe Julia was the water to Ava's fire--and how it will shape her future when she hears the story one day. I believe Julia hung on just long enough so that Ava could survive.

I am determined to make this a survival story and not one of victims. We are stronger in our marriage and we are stronger in our love for what we have. We believe in miracles, even though sometimes it's not the complete miracle we asked for.

Taken last year. A new tradition of releasing a balloon in honor of Julia on their birthday

Just because

Ava is napping next to me. She has croup. Croup is not fun. Croup is messing with an already precarious sleeping pattern. Anyway, my iPad is keeping me company at the moment and I came across this picture.

Do you hear what I hear?

above picture courtesy Sophia

 

 

Ava had a hearing test at Children's hospital the other day. It's the first to rule out in the process of figuring out why she isn't really talking. I'm no longer in denial about Ava's lack of language. I wanted to give her some time to see if she would pick up her pace at using words, but I felt that the last month not only produced a standstill, it seemed like there was regression. I am fully aware of the wide span of language development at this age. I really wanted to give her the benefit of not comparing her to her early talking older sister. Factor in a never quiet Sophia (seriously, that girl does not stop talking. Ever. She has the gift of gab. God help us all if she takes after my Aunt Jacque. Or my cousin Stacey.) But Ava doesn't really say words. She says stuff with inflection. Does a lot of pointing and whining. She screams for things she wants. It's frustrating for all parties. She also has Miss Chatterbox Sophia to tell me what Ava wants. And then there is the pacifier, which I'm sure doesn't help matters. But it all comes down to her prematurity and that she should be streamlined into programs to evaluate her for a speech delay and to give her the help she needs. So I started making the calls a few weeks ago and discovered that there has been major funding and budget cuts to these programs. Everything is impacted. And I felt like I screwed up on taking the wait and see approach. The resources were there when I was offered them back at Ava's last high risk assessment. Enter the guilt factor, and I kind of kicked into high speed panic trying to get Ava help. After hitting a few roadblocks, I talked to her pediatrician, who sent referrals to the proper channels. She also suggested I get Ava's hearing ruled out, hence the appointment. Perhaps she was hearing us but the sounds were muffled. That would make sense, given that she says words back muffled. I doubted that she had hearing problems. She seems oversensitive to noise, really. But I am fully on board to ruling everything out.

Ava passed the hearing test with flying colors. If there were a parade for this event, she would have been crowned queen. As I was filling out the questions in the waiting room for her appointment, one of the questions asked if I had concerns about her behavior. Um, she's a holy terror. Yes! So wouldn't it be par for the course that Ava sat perfectly still during the entire hearing exam. She did not even squirm. All subjects were amazed at her behavior. I asked if I could bring her back for some peace and quiet in the future. Surely they pump some type of happy gas or Valium into that place, because Ava did not have one outburst. The person performing the test must have thought I was nuts for even mentioning behavioral issues.

So now that she in fact hears as clear as a bell, we move onto the next step and wait for the regional center to call back and start the interview process. I am told this can take 45 days. In the meantime, I will continue to work with her like I have. I also signed up for a group session with her that takes place once a month at a speech pathology center, just to see if I can get some more tools and information on "Expressive Delay" which is the current theory for why Ava isn't talking as much as she should at this point. 

Endeavour

I decided to try my luck at a chance view of the Endeavour making it's final farewell flight over the area before settling into it's museum spot. I lucked out!

Necessity is the mother of invention

I'd say desperation is the mother of invention. I am one sleep deprived, brain fried wreck of a person. When I grew out of that late night teenage angst stage, I turned into a morning person. I enjoyed waking up early, much to the disappointment of every college roommate. Until Ava. Ava has made me dread mornings. Maybe it's her wake up call at 2 am which goes from zero to full blast at the speed of sound. Maybe it's just my old age showing. I used to laugh at all the contraptions geared to help get a baby to sleep. Have you seen those freaky stuffed hands that you can warm up to place on a child to imitate your hand? Do you know how many books have been published to train your baby to sleep? This is no joke, people. It is for those desperate parents who just want a few hours of restful sleep. I really can't imagine how families do it that have two working parents or single parents raising a baby. I really shouldn't complain, I could have it worse. (I could have it better and hire an au pair to handle Ava though.) It's not really the work, it's the battle. It's the agony of defeat that I am powerless to my almost 2 year old.
In my effort to restart the game, I've decided to change the playing field. Last night I went on a crazed rampage up rearranging both girl's sleeping situations. I installed a guard rail on Sophia's upper bed and moved the lower bed to Ava's room, eliminating the crib. I think the crib became a thing of fear for Ava. She does not like to be restrained. Sophia handled the transition quite well. I think she felt a bit like Princess and the Pea sleeping up high. Ava was excited about her new bed, too. And she did better than expected. She woke up at 1am screaming, but I laid down with her and she settled down quickly. Up again at 3:45, this time with just a whimper and she came into our room on her own. I'd much rather be woken with a whimper. This time she knew I wouldn't get away so fast, so that was a little bit harder to sneak away. I begged my bones not to creak, as I held my breath and did a super ninja stealth back to my bed. She woke again at 5:45, and this time Rick brought her to bed with us. I feel like this was progress. But we shall see. Game on, Ava. Game on.

He was such a good boy

We had to put Ruger down today. He was my step dog. When I moved in with Rick and saw Ruger's crazed behavior and pink lipstick, I told Rick that dog needed to be neutered. We had pretty heavy discussions, which ended in Rick telling me that if I decided to neuter Ruger then he wanted no part of removing the poor boy's balls. Needless to say, I may not have bonded with Ruger from the get-go. I took that 80 pound dog to the vet and he left with the Cone of Shame. He didn't make eye contact with me until the 4th of July, where he emphatically jumped into my lap and hid his head in my nether regions until the booms stopped, which was well into the wee hours of the morning. Hey, we live in a rural area and people like their guns and illegal fireworks.
Ruger, ironically named for the German gun (he was  German Shorthair Pointer), was indeed gun shy. His nickname became "Tailgate" after a botched attempt at duck hunting with the fellows. The first gunshot found Ruger bee-lining it to the sanctuary of Rick's truck, the only hiding place happened to be under the tailgate. We also fondly called him "Snoot Neuton" and "Big Boy." Ava's first word was "Ruger" and her first sentence was (spoken in inflection) "Ruger. Here big boy" when we went outside in the morning. For the past few months, she would feed Ruger his kibble pellet by pellet. He would puke after, but that dog would not refuse his kibble.
This last week, he had particularly pukey behavior. This dog was a total pansy. He had a very weak constitution, so puking it up was nothing new. Oh, another nickname for him was "Twinkle Toes" because he did a lot of tap dancing. It was pretty funny for me, knowing how much Rick loved his dog and how he was just not a manly dog at all. But the great thing about really good dogs is that the love is unconditional both ways. So anyway, back to my point. I became really attached to Ruger once Sophia was born. In my new housewife domestic diva role, we have created quite a routine around Ruger. It was a very quiet afternoon today, let me tell you. I don't think one fully realizes the impact of an animal until they are no longer with us.
Yesterday he refused food. Even bacon. We called the vet and had the discussion about the "What if's" which is a deeply depressing discussion. The vet evaluated him and gave us two options, with a caveat that if it were her dog, the quality of life he may have in the next week would be sub par. With the heavy burden of the decision in our court, I cowardly announced, "It's ultimately Rick's decision because it's really his dog." Let me tell you, Rick hated to make the decision. But it was the best. Ruger went peacefully at home, surrounded by us and our words of encouragement. He was a really good boy. I am going to miss this dog.

Goal!

Sophia started soccer. I'm not biased at all here, but she has a natural talent. And if you don't believe me, a parent even commented on her ability. Or it could have been that he said, "Wow, she really gets in there, doesn't she?" Which immediately processed in my head as "Wow, she's a little Mia Hamm in the making. Get ready for her debut in the 2024 Olympics." Nope, I'm not biased. I'm not thinking back to her mad skills when she was only 2 years old, sitting on the kitchen counter top and kicking every ball served to her solidly, wondering just how awesome she would do when she was 4 years old and serving it up on the field.

OK seriously, this was her first game. One minute into it, she got tangled up in a team mate and muddy water from the over saturated field splashed up her in eye, temporarily blinding her and leaving her helpless to get herself back up. I ran out there to rescue her and the coach scolds me with a, "You need to let her get up on her own." In my head I screamed "Back up bitch, my baby might be blind!" I refrained and mumbled, "She can't see, she got mud in her eye." Sophia dramatically plopped herself down on the chair and whined, "I'm all wet and dirty and I want to go home and change." And I panicked just a little, thinking we would have to pack up and leave one minute into the game. But we aren't quitters, damn it. So I told her she could sit on the chair and cheer on her team for the whole game or she could shake it off and play like a big girl. Going home wasn't an option. And Sophia got right up and went back in to play. A few minutes later she scored a goal. And it wasn't just an accidental happen upon the ball coming her way. She took control of the ball and maneuvered it 3 kicks to the goal. After that goal, she was fully in the game.

Night sky

For whatever reason, a picture of last night's sunset had me humming the tune to "A Change is Gonna Come."

Sophia is in Pre-K

Doesn't the two thumbs up just say it all?

Summer is o.v.e.r.

Summer is OVER. Summer is over. Summer is over!! Do you want to know something? I am thrilled to be looking forward to a new season. I remember posting how excited I was for Summer to start. And then I was so done with it all about a month ago. It could have been around the time that all of Ava's 8 teeth coming in. Really came in. Or maybe that Ava doesn't really like new environments, or people much, for that matter. Made for an awesome week in Tahoe. So awesome, that Rick realized how wound up I was after our vacation, that he took me away on a spontaneous overnighter with just the two of us shortly after we returned. And that was awesome. It just so happened to be the night of the blue moon, coincidentally the last time we had gone for an overnight trip to Napa on that level of amazing was the weekend of our engagement, when he proposed to me on the night of a blue moon.

Going mobile

I've had a lot less time at the computer this Summer. And Ava's in that stage where she wants to be where the action is, which is not a great combination with our home office. I just downloaded the app for my iPad to see if I can become more mobile with my posts. My iPad has also become the main camera and video go to as of late. Boy am I getting lazy! I also realize that I am a few months behind in my "Things I want to remember" posts. It's been a chaotic Summer.

It's good to be average

Ava had her 20 month checkup the other day. She is in the 50%ile for all measurements, which is just  perfect. I had a bit of a freak-out moment questioning whether she was even growing. She has been in the same size clothing what seems like forever and it is not something I am used to, especially since Sophia grows out of her clothes within a few months. So now that my fears are set aside for now, I will breathe easy until the next appointment, when I will probably fret about something else. It was also good timing with her appointment, because I had received a call from the High Risk Infant Followup Clinic asking about Ava's speech development. I had decided to wait to call back after she met with her pediatrician, to discuss what she thought so I could give accurate input. All parties agree that she is developing appropriately. Very happy momma here. :)
And now back to our summer activities...I've been lagging a bit here because of our crazy summer, the first real summer I have experienced since I don't know when. It's kind of fun feeling like a kid again. But I feel summer coming to an end. August is already here, unbelievably. And as much as I'm enjoying the outdoor lifestyle we've adopted for the past few months, it will be nice to settle back into routine once again.

The routine check

I was kind of looking forward to my first routine pap this year. Not actually excited about it...that would be, uh, weird. What I mean is that it would feel like I'm back to routine. For the last 7 years there was always something else involved---fertility tests, a pregnancy, a miscarriage, a post-partum checkup, etc. and etc. that made the whole appointment that much more anxiety ridden. So this appointment was the first where it was just regular old me doing a regular old routine thing. Until it wasn't. I have been having some irregular spotting here and there, which I felt I should mention. My hormones are, unbelievably, still trying to straighten themselves out even a year and a half later. I assumed this may be the cause of the spotting, or the effect. Whatever. The nurse practitioner was in the office this day, with my regular OB on vacation. She starts looking at my chart and immediately gets on the birth control subject. Apparently my OB made many references to birth control. Ha. She mentions possible causes of spotting, including the possibility of a fibroid being the culprit. The fibroid raised a red flag for me, since I had once lovingly patted my fibroid from my enlarged belly in mistake of Ava's foot. Ah, that ultrasound appointment was entertaining when she pointed out it was my huge fibroid, not a foot. And fast forward to the already crazy emergency c-section, where upon removal of Ava and Julia, my OB says, "I see your fibroid Cara, and it's huge." So yeah, that fibroid. Interesting bit of trivia for the day: a fibroid will continue to grow until menopause. So anyway, the nurse practitioner casually tells me that the doctor would want to do a hysterectomy instead of removing the fibroid if it continues to add problems. Fibroids can be tricky, and since we're done with having babies, according to my chart references to birth control and multiple notes to talk about scheduling a tubal ligation yesterday, then really there's nothing to worry about. Well, she didn't say it that non-chalantly, or with that much flair. That's my interpretation of it. Kind of like, "Hey, you don't need your reproductive organs, you've closed up shop girlfriend. Peace out." She mentioned I may need to schedule a consultation with my OB for further discussion. You think?
OK, people here's the thing. I know, I know--we should be done making babies. Rick is not done, but tells me it's obviously my call. And while the door is shut for now, mostly due to the crazed imps I have as children, and not so much because of my really f'd up reproductive trials and tribulations, I think there's a window cracked open somewhere and I can smell the faint scent of baby powder blowing in every once in awhile. I must admit that taking away my ability to reproduce scares me. Could be carnal female impulse to want all my girlie parts in place until menopause. Could be that I am purely up to prove that I can and will have another baby, and the pregnancy will be awesome, damn it. Whatever my feelings right now, we aren't acting on anything in the short term. I have my hands full. I may have to get Rick a puppy.

Slim Pickins

Here's a good lesson to learn: stick with the fruit that is in the prime for its season, do not try to conquer the entirety of fruit orchards. Rick's been way busy, which is a good thing. But trying to schedule a half day with him for our annual cherry picking was becoming a bit challenging. While looking at the orchard schedule I had a (what I thought at the time) bright idea. Why don't we try to get the end of cherry season and the beginning of apricot and peach season? A pang of regret hit me when we passed a few U-Pick cherry orchards with closed signs. I got excited when the one we go to each year was open. As we started to walk through the orchard, we began to realize there would be no easy pickin' here, there was literally no low lying fruit to be found. Up for the challenge, Rick picked 15 pounds of cherries from ladder to ladder, while the rest of us entertained Ava, who wanted to put every cherry pit on the ground into her mouth. End of cherry season, lots of pits on the ground. Piles of pits. It wasn't all a bust though, those were still some tasty bings.

Leaving the cherry orchard, we headed out to another orchard that had apricots, nectarines and peaches. They were still pretty green--would have been perfect in another week or maybe even two-- but this was a much better environment for one eager Sophia itching to pick the fruit from the tree, and one eager Ava chomping at the bit to eat the fruit from the tree. Way easier to give Ava a whole peach and let her go to town. Sometimes she'd be double-fisted with fruit, but at least she wasn't eating discarded pits. As we were leaving the orchard, we noticed the temperature gauge on the car read 104 degrees. It was a hot day, but the shade of the orchard, the delta breeze and sun kissed fresh fruit were a perfect ending to our challenging beginning.

Summer lovin'

A Pinteresting Father's Day

I found a cute project on, you guessed it, Pinterest! I am addicted and overwhelmed about what to pin because there are so many great contributions to this site. Along the same lines, I've been debating on getting a sewing machine for awhile now. There are a few DIY projects I'd like to try that require sewing, and although I love the iron on hems and other iron on stuff, if I want these projects to last, I need to actually sew it.

Anyway, back to the Father's Day project. I didn't realize how challenging it is to get a good set of footprints! It was fun though, for a warm sunny day, to get their feet painted and then just as much fun cleaning up in the grass outside.

We had a BBQ at our house with family and friends. Rick's mom made most of the food, and that was a treat in itself. That woman can sure make some mean ribs and baked beans. I also tried two dessert ideas, s'mores and Bisquick chocolate chip cookies. The s'mores were more fun to look at than eat in my opinion. The cookies were yummy! I was pretty surprised at how good they were. I put the recipe in my cookbook, and will be making variations aplenty.

It's been busier than usual around here. I signed Sophia up for swim lesson the last 2 weeks and she just wrapped up her last lesson. I think we spent more time getting ready for the lesson and then unpacking and bathing after the lesson, that a 30 minute lesson is more like a 2 hour ordeal. I'll be back to catch up on that whole debacle later, and also post some cherry picking turned full orchard picking day as well.

May: Things I want to remember

And the first week into summer vacation, I get hit with a pretty big head cold. Still recovering with the congestion part, hopefully my brain cells are coming back too.

Without further adieu...

Things I want to remember:
Mother's day at Fenton's, carefree no hassle no hosting bliss of a day. Ice cream for lunch, yum.

I made up a Chicken recipe with paprika and garlic, white wine, dijon and brown sugar, soy sauce. I could drink the sauce on this chicken. I've successfully recreated it after the first round and I'm giving it one more try before posting the recipe.

Solar eclipse was cool! Our neighbors were walking by with unexposed x-ray films (brilliant!) and give us one for Sophia to watch with. Made up for the underwhelming super moon.

I've underestimated the importance to make time for myself, whether reading a book or small accomplishments with a craft. Felt like there was a bit of me outside of the children, and that is a good feeling sometimes.

Moroccan restaurant, Sophia belly dancing like a mini Shakira. That girl can move her hips! The next day she wanted to wear a skirt. We were going to our friend's for a BBQ. When it was time to get in the pool I was helping her out of her skirt into her bathing suit. Sophia had a dollar bill tucked into her skirt (belly dancer style)!

Ava blowing kisses and saying "Hi!" while frantically waving her hand anytime I am gone for more than 5 minutes.

Rick bringing home a piece of cheesecake for me. We won't discuss why there was a peace offering, just that he knew the way to thaw my cold heart.

Getting away with just Sophia for a quick swim at a friend's house. It was so nice to enjoy some relaxing time with my big girl. No eyes in the back of the head needed. Just fun swim time.

Who needs a water park with a slip 'n slide? Sophia and Ava had hours of entertainment with our improvised water park. Slip 'n Slide joined to a blow-up water fun island. Nuff said.

Sophia says...

While driving Sophia to preschool the other morning, I was singing to a popular song on the radio. Sophia says, "Mommy? Maybe you should let the singer sing her own song. I think she likes it better that way."

Later in the day, I needed to return a pair of Sophia's shoes and attempt to purchase a bathing suit. We were walking past all the cute itsy bitsy suits, and maneuvered into the very back section, where the lighting is dimmed and the suits aren't so itsy bitsy. Sophia says, "Oh, we are in the mommy swimsuit area now." On a side note, I've purchased more items with the word "Miracle" on them than I'd care to admit lately. Swimsuit being one of them.

Teacher "Thank You" craft

Our first end of the school year experience, and I was feeling a little crafty. If you haven't found Pinterest, you don't know what you are missing. Or maybe stay away, because it's a vortex that will consume any free time you have. That is, if you have hobbies or interests, or are in need of hobbies or interests. So while looking at all these cool ideas on Pinterest for crafty teacher thank yous, I came across an idea and added my own flavor to it. I found all of the contents on sale or had it on hand, and I am really pleased with how it turned out. I used Photoshop to make the card with Sophia's picture of her first day of school and underneath it says "Teachers plant the seeds of knowledge that will grow forever." Hence the garden theme. On the back of the card I wrote one specific thing Sophia liked about the teacher, and had Sophia sign her name. This is the first time I used the chalkboard spray paint, and I have the urge to make everything into a chalkboard right now, but I am resisting. Oh, and I had these cute little owl stickers that fit perfectly over the price tag of the Dahlia bulbs. So if you are looking for an end of year project for your kiddo, I highly recommend taking advantage of those spring/summer garden sales at Home Depot and Big Lots.

Run for the hills!

I had a not so proud parenting moment the other day. (Please excuse the following corny analogy, I can't help myself.) The dam broke, and I quite literally ran for the hills. In other words, I lost my shit. Big time. Oh it's not what you think. I didn't hit anybody, didn't leave any emotional scars that I may have to look back on and pinpoint the exact moment of parental failure. I simply could no longer share the same space of one endlessly screaming banshee--that would be Ava--and one endlessly whining shrilly voice--that would be Sophia. It was dinner time, I had enough of the day's events that kept piling on into a heart pounding GET ME OUT OF HERE moment where I could either scream and wig everyone out, or make a run for it. And run I did. My mind must have been going to this place in time where I would need those running shoes on when I got dressed for the day. Already equipped for the short marathon I was about to embark on (mental note: next time I "prepare" for a little breakdown, I might want to wear a sports bra), I yelled to Rick "feed Ava!" and ran out the front door. Problem is, I am not a runner. So my very dramatic exit quickly led to gasps of air and side pains about 2 blocks down the street. But I wasn't about to turn around and head back home, so I walked really quickly up the big hill next to our house and released that pent up steam. And it felt good. And then I felt a little silly about the whole dramatic running out of the house bit I just pulled.
On the walk down the hill, I tried to come up with a teachable moment, because I knew Sophia would not just ignore this charade and finish dinner like nothing happened. But honestly, I couldn't find one. "Mommy just lost it, honey" didn't sound right because I must tell Sophia at least five times a day that she needs to learn how to control her emotions better. And I can't really condone the behavior of running out the front door without telling anyone where I was going. So I just decided to announce to the quiet (like, you could hear chewing from the front entrance it was so quiet) family members eating ever so mannerly at the dinner table that mommy just needed some fresh air. "But why did you leave?" Sophia asked in a concerned voice. "Oh I was just hot and I didn't feel like sitting down to eat so I just ran around the block sweetie." As if a half-assed excuse would sound better presented with a sing-songy voice and plastered smile. I wasn't about to actually look at Rick, but my peripheral vision took in his raised eyebrows. So who's teachable moment did this really turn out to be afterall? Mine. It really doesn't matter what happened during the day to set me into that downward spiral. What does matter is that I need to get better at knowing when things become a little too much and adjust to that before I get to the point of boiling over. That I cant just do it all like I really just want to do. Being perfect isn't an obtainable goal. There will always be a floor to vacuum, laundry to fold, or pending responsibilities. I can always do better, but some days maybe just doing what I can is good enough too.

April: Things I want to remember

April is a crazy packed month for us in general. It was taken up a few notches with Easter coming so soon in the month and then with Rick's dad going into the hospital, followed by the funeral. But April wasn't all sad. It was a roller coaster of highs and lows, with many things I do not want to forget. Such as:

Having fun with Sophia on April Fools Day. It landed on a Sunday this year, which is usually the day I get to linger in bed while Sophia and Rick pal around in the early morning. I ran out with Sophia's clothes and told her to hurry up, she'll be late for school. They both looked at me like I was crazy. Then for breakfast I made her pancakes with a little surprise dirt and worms coming out of it (chocolate graham cracker and marshmallow). She loved that.

The Easter egg hunt, with Ava actually being able to participate in this year. Aunt Dione made special plastic eggs just for her, and she must have eaten 2 packages full of yogurt melts. She was a pro at opening the eggs up to get what was inside.

That you are never too old to feel like a kid. Rick put this really cool tree swing up for the kids, but all the other big kids took turns as well.

Sophia pointing out that her Candy Land birthday cake was missing the colored marshmallow edging. The ONLY candy out of the ton of candy that I forgot to put on the cake, and she would not let up on me about those marshmallows for weeks after.

Vegas. The whole trip was awesome. One particular event wasn't so awesome, but laughable. We arrived at the airport with much time to wait for our flight home, because the hotel internet services and kiosk wasn't letting me confirm our flight check-in. We go through the screening process, and the security wants to hand search our one carry-on bag. I joked that we had so much time to kill, no problem! Well after a good minute, it appeared that the guy was actually looking for something specific. When he found it, he said to Rick, "Sir, did you know you had a knife in your bag?" And this wasn't just any knife. It was a hunting knife for skinning deer. Pretty intimidating. How it got through the security checkpoint coming to Vegas is frightening in itself. The security guy was very cool about the whole thing. We checked our carry-on and that was that.

My Mom's birthday celebration was put on hold due to the timing of the funeral, so not only did we skip her birthday altogether, she came down to help with Ava, who was being a very testy little girl the entire service. That's what moms are for!

I was so proud of Rick, who is not a public speaker, to get up and say such a heartfelt and eloquent tribute to his Dad. Speaking of pride, our nephew Chris composed music for and wrote the lyrics to a song that he performed at the funeral service. There was not a dry eye in the place. And he nailed it.

That sometimes the best moments are spontaneous. Our wedding anniversary celebration was so last minute, and we had a really nice date night.

Maypole

I've been anticipating the day when Sophia was old enough to create a maypole for May Day. While some people were out rioting or protesting or picketing yesterday, we were celebrating May 1st the old fashioned way. My mom told me when she was a little girl they would fill baskets with flowers and leave it on friend's doorsteps. I think we'll add this tradition next year.

The 7 year itch

Seven years ago yesterday, Rick and I were married on the beach at sunset in a very small coastal town in Northern Italy. Each year, days before our anniversary, we receive a card from our friend Jennifer. Quite honestly, had it not been for this yearly reminder, we may have forgotten to celebrate (I never thank you for your thoughtfulness, Jennifer!). We aren't very good with exact dates, Rick and I. We know time frames, but specific dates of things need to be written down, and even then are forgotten. I'll get a sixth sense and have to go to the calendar or my blog when I feel like there is something nagging at me. And when life gets in the way, we tend to set aside those we love the most because we know they will forgive us. But strangely enough, this year everything fell into place with little effort. We were hanging out in the backyard with the girls on Sunday, watching Sophia run through the sprinklers and Ava playing in the water table. I asked Rick what we should do this year and he suggested maybe go away for an overnight trip somewhere next week. "Next week? You know our anniversary is tomorrow right?"
"Oh, is it tomorrow? I thought there was another week in there. Well, let's go to dinner tomorrow."
"Lots of restaurants are closed on Mondays," I remarked. "And if you want me to wear that dress I promised, it's going to have to be a warm night." So we agreed to see if we could have Noni watch the girls and go to dinner that very night. He called a place nearby, which is on the water, and they had a table available right at sunset. It was meant to be. When Rick was making the reservation, they asked if it was a special occasion and he said it was our anniversary. "What's your secret?" the guy on the other end of the phone asked. Has it gotten so bad that 7 years is considered a great accomplishment in our society? I feel like we are finally getting into our groove. Has it already been 7 years? But just in case I'm in oblivious naive mode, I decided to remind Rick that there are remedies for the 7 year itch. Because I am not at all romantic, I went the humor route. In case he starts to get itchy, the medicine cabinet is stocked full of Benedryl, Calamine lotion, Tinactine, and Gold Bond.

Ava's first graduation

Ava graduated from the Medically Vulnerable Infant Program (MVIP) the week before last. It was without pomp or circumstance, no cake or punch was served. It was a very warm, sunny day and our nurse Linda, who we've seen for the past year and a half, joined us outside to observe Ava playing with Sophia. The girls were at the sand table, as opposites as opposites can be--Ava shied away and did everything she could to hide under me, Sophia immediately showing off all her new skills and knowledge from Linda's last visit. Linda and I talked. We discussed Ava's rock star qualities. We discussed the session at the High Risk Infant Clinic (HRIC) a few weeks ago, and I felt like I needed to set the record straight a bit. I was sent the records from Ava's last visit. The records noted that I told them Ava wasn't talking or saying as many words as she should be. I think my high standards may have inadvertently did Ava a disservice. The thing is, I am not worried about how many words Ava uses. I am not concerned, because she talks constantly. But what I acknowledge as a word must be clearly understood as an association with the object. That is my standard. The standard I should be using for her is that she may be making up her own words, or her understanding of what an object is, or what I would call "babble" and that is considered a word. So in that case, Ava speaks complete sentences! Seriously though, I didn't give Ava enough credit and had I not clarified this with Linda, we may have been sent into another program for speech therapy, etc. So lesson learned there. And there still may be a time where Ava does illegitimately need some extra help, but I really don't want her placed into something because of my choice of words or standards. What I've also learned is that I have to toe the line between letting Ava come into her own, while also being slightly more keen on her developmental milestones in case we need early intervention. My parenting philosophy is more "wait and see" which isn't necessarily the best thing for a preemie who is being evaluated more often than a full term child. So that's my struggle, and something I will try to keep in check until her second birthday where we presume the case will be closed with the HRIC as well. When I walked Linda out, I told her I was sad we didn't get to celebrate the occasion. She told me she generally won't tell her clients in advanced if it's the last session, because she doesn't want to make a big deal out of it. I guess I can see her point. I really would have liked to take a picture of her and Ava together, if only Ava would have gotten within camera range of Linda. So another thing checked off our list of accomplishments for Ava, our little Rock Star.

Papa

My father in-law passed away after an insanely long struggle with Alzheimer's. I contribute his longevity to the sheer willpower of my mother in-law. She made sure he was up in the morning, showered, shaved, and dressed for the day. She had him up and walking during the day, outside for fresh air, and came up with creative ways to keep his mind working. She had friends over, held communion every week at the house, and made sure we celebrated every birthday and holiday as normal as possible. I think she is truly a Saint.

I never really knew my father in-law. Oh, I shared moments of his clarity, but most of the time it was a polite smile, a pat on the shoulder, a brief hug. Here is what I do know about him:

- His love ran so deep with my mother in-law that when all memories failed him, he could still call her name and look for her when she left the room.

- His eyes lit up when he saw Sophia, and eventually Ava. He loved babies, and there is something telling about that core trait. He would call Sophia "Sweetheart" when he saw her. Last night at dinner, Rick told Sophia he was going to bring some food over for Noni. Sophia said, "And for Papa." It felt like this was as good a time as any to let her know that Papa was no longer with us. She said, "Papa called me Sweetheart."

- He was strong and stoic. I saw it in his eyes and felt it is his grip, I also saw when he didn't want to do something and it was like moving a mountain.

- He left a big impression on everyone that knew him. It is a testament to his kind character that people approach Rick any time we are around those he knew, to tell Rick a story about his father. It happened often, and I know it means a lot to Rick.

- I see so much of my husband's characteristics as a reflection of his father's influence on him, and for that I am grateful.

A glimpse of my past self

Rick and I did an overnight trip to Las Vegas for my girlfriend's wedding. It was a 24 hour, kid-free opportunity and I relished in every sweet minute of it. Don't get me wrong, I love my girls more than life. But sometimes they are a handful. More than a handful. I have very spirited children. I try to make light of the work that it takes to raise them, because I am so grateful for everything I am blessed with. This stay at home mom business is not a walk in the park. It can be physically and mentally draining day in and day out. I joke that it's a nice break to have my teeth cleaned. But sometimes it's not a joke. Anyway, enough about how hard it is. It's been a very long time that Rick and I have had some time together, away from the kids. It's also been a long time that I've gotten to meet up with some old friends. And it's been ages since I've gotten to meet up with my old friends at our old Vegas playground. I was giddy. It was a blast. It was a joyous occasion! And what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas, right? Although I must add that 10 years ago, we actually did stay out until the clubs closed instead of leaving the clubs right when the lines start to form. Man, are we getting old or what? I forgot how much I loved Vegas. I reconnected with my younger self again, before pregnancies and responsibilities. It was a much needed 24 hour time out. And I came home refreshed, ready to take on my life again. Get back to the grind. Absence does make the heart grow fonder though. While I was relishing in my freedom from responsibility, Rick was having the opposite experience. I'd find him looking at pictures of the girls on his cell phone. "Look at this" he'd say, as we'd both peer over the small screen to watch one of Sophia's dance routines he had captured. "I really miss them," he'd muse. And I realized that while I am the trenches with them during the day, he's literally in the trenches and so busy running his business that he has no time to think about missing them. When he comes home from work, it's dinner, bath and then bed time. So while it was good for us to also reconnect, I think next time I may head out to Vegas solo and let him take the kids by himself!

Sophia is 4

Four seems so Big Girl. It's Independence. It's I Can Do It Myself. It's I Am Now Old Enough. It's graduation from car seat to booster. It's learning to read, tie shoes, contemplation, learning consequences, asking big questions. I've noticed this subtle shift into Big Girl, but having Sophia actually turn 4 feels so official. It's as if the last bit of baby powder has been dusted off. I realize that as Sophia is first born, I look forward to the next thing with her. I am eager to see what is around the corner. I've been like this since she was born. I couldn't wait for her milestones. And while I am just a little bit sad that she is no longer a baby, I am more excited that she is becoming such a big girl. Happy birthday, Sophia!

March: Things I want to remember

The tree guys coming to cut down the massive branch of the pine growing over our fence line. The tough guy got all smiles when I asked if I could take his picture tied way up in that tree. He even posed. Ruger now comes to me when he has any ailments, after the horrible dog attack. I'm his nurse-maid. We've bonded big time. His legs still aren't working right and the other day he slipped while trying to run up the concrete steps. He came over to me the next day, whimpering, and put his leg out for me to have a look.

Spending St. Patrick's Day at Fred's house. Sophia and Danielle are becoming great friends and it's so much fun to watch them grow up together. A little side note: there is a big difference in a house that has one 4 year old (Fred's) vs. a house that has one four year old and a baby that likes "choking hazards" (ours). Ava survived the day unscathed, and no Polly Pocket shoes ended up being consumed (or at least as far as I could tell).

Grandma's Tea Party. Also how long it took Mariah to fluff up those flower puff decorations. And that I almost gave Aunt Bev a heart attack when I told her Grandma was turning 88 instead of 90.

What a big girl Sophia was when we went out to a grown-up restaurant for her Aunt Kathy's birthday dinner.

Sophia likes to come in early in the morning to sleep on Rick's side of the bed and snuggle. Sometimes she has Barbie there as a placeholder.


Ava officially walking!

Girl's (or Girls'?) trip to Monterey. Would my Mom and Dione survive without me? I think not.
Coming home from our long weekend, to find Rick making a lasagna for dinner. I can count on one hand the number of times he's cooked dinner since I've known him. It's all my fault really, I am way too critical of him when he's in the kitchen. Lesson learned. He is welcome to cook whenever he wants, I will happily hang up my apron and let him have at it. I'll even do the dishes.

Cracking up at Ava mocking us when we tell her not to do something. She brings her chin to her neck and looks up at us and does a really good Peanut's cartoon "adult voice" with the "Wah-wah-wah-wah."