the fabulous four (or fabulous 3 with one who bites)

Ange and I dyed Easter eggs with the kids today. Allow me to clarify: Ange managed the kids dipping fragile eggs into permanent dye. I took pictures.

We told Maya we were going to dip the eggs in the dye. She thought we were joking.

And so she tried to test the limit of the eggs (like everything in life right now) but throwing them into the bowls and cracking three of them,

before getting down to serious work.

There were a few tears shed by Anna (I think because of some altercation with Maya's fists or teeth),

and then she, too, got to work.

Brady and Ella did not lack for concentration. They set off like the little worker bees they are.

Then Brady and Ella decided to put Anna down for a nap. She was displeased. And almost fell asleep.

The whole thing got me thinking about last year at this time...

And to think Ange and I still call Maya and Anna "the babies." Okay, maybe just I do. That was so smart of us to have kids the same age. (You're on your own for the next one, Mrs. Smith.)

18 month spacers

Sandi's sister, Kristi, and San and I have some sort of unspoken, unintentional pact to space our kids by a year a half. No one ever said it was a good idea to pace them this way, but has worked famously and I highly recommend it so as not to overwhelm any grandparentals, aunts, uncles or major holidays.

Here are their status updates:

McKenna doesn't so much sleep like an angel (just look under her mother's eyes) but at 8 months she looks like a sleeping angel. (It is almost impossible to believe that this super giant baby is wearing clothes our super tiny baby grew out of a few short months ago.)

Next youngest is the fire bomb of Maya. She sports these pig tails (whenever she doesn't rip them out) as a way to take on a new persona. I like to think of it as Dennis the Menace meets the Muppets.

Brevan, 6 weeks shy of his 4th birthday, has recently discovered that he is in fact Sportucus. He now makes sure to dress accordingly each and every day.

(I actually wonder if he got this idea from Maya last year...)

And it all began with Ella, the easy breezy one who broke us all in to this idea of trying our hand at the roller coaster ride called parenthood.

I'm just saying

It needs to be said.

Marathon training is HARD. I'm getting tired and overwhelmed.

Thank you to the 5 other women who all ran this morning in 15 degree weather. Think its time to lean on you.

Thanks San for massaging my legs today when I got back from my run. Thanks for making me coffee and carrying corn for the stove so I didn't have to and heating up the bathroom for our shower because you knew I would be so cold.

And thanks body for handling all these crazy messes my mind keeps getting us into...

haircuts and the ordinary made extraordinary

Sometimes its just an ordinary haircut.

And then sometimes something a little more happens. Like when you add a little product...
or when two sisters who could enter into competitive sibling arguing show the love.

quips

"Good math, Ella!" I said when Ella told me that Sandi had worked the last 2 days which meant she had 3 left. "What is math?" she asked. (mother's note: really??) "Math, you know when you add and subtract numbers?" I answered, trying not to be sarcastic, a real effort. "Oh," she said. Small pause. "Well this is karate!" and she stood up from the table and did some jabs and kicks into the air.



Sandi had been checking Maya's lungs with her stethoscope during the whole RSV fiasco when Maya was wheezing and kind of panting for air. Soon Maya was on to her and began to defy all of her attempts at checking Maya's oxygen levels and lung status. She looked at Sandi with her signature scowl and said, in her now even deeper voice, "You no check my lungs."


Maya has been doing a bit more hitting, pinching, biting, and general antagonizing of her sister. We make her apologize and give Ella "love" to make it up to her which means Maya might be giving Ella "love" to make up for her "mean" 20 times a day. Yesterday Ella said, "I don't want anymore of Maya's love!" Who can blame her?


"I think Coconutty will love fall when the leaves blow around in a circle. Like a tomato!"



"Mommy, I fell down the stairs yesterday. Just like Jill in Jack and Jill."



Maya was playing peek-a-boo in the hospital cafeteria today. She would disappear behind a half way and yell "I gone!"

Maya asked where Ella was. I told her Ella was at school. "Okay!" she said and then went to the top of the stairs and yelled, "Ella Carver! You come here!!" The other day she yelled at "Coconutty Carver" to come as well. Today in the car she removed her socks, her shoes and her shoe insoles. Ella asked, "Can she do that?" and all I could think was, "Does she care?"

And Ella told me: "Coconut and I were spirit friends before we met."

Then today she informed me, during a tantrum: "I don't want to live here anymore!!"

It's a good thing them come with build in comic relief.

if it's gonna happen to someone, it's gonna happen to Maya

We went to the dentist and got some, well, good/bad news.

Maya is missing two of her teeth. As in, they didn't come in as baby teeth and x-ray indicates that they won't come in as adult teeth either.

See? Between her two front teeth and her little fangs?

The bad news: high orthodontic bills. The good news: the less to bite you with.

pics from back when you needed a jacket on the playset...

Yesterday we were out barefoot with t-shirts for the unprecedented first day of spring in Maine (during my tenure as a Mainer anyway). It reached 67 degrees!

It was but a mere three weeks ago that winter jackets were called for. It's supposed to be beautiful again today and we are going to pack away the snow pants to celebrate!

Watch out moles and birds and mice. Coconutty is on the prowl and no small scurrying or flying animal is out of his sights.

yep, another training post

I made it, essentially, to the halfway point in marathon training, the half-marathon (13.1 miles). I have some things to say about this.

First, wow, wouldn't it be cool if my goal was a HALF marathon and I would know that I had reached this goal! I know I am saying something that makes no sense (especially since I reached this goal last fall) but see, I feel confident in my ability to go out and run 13 miles. This next 13, piggy-backed on the first 13 with a pesky .2 just to make a point? That feels like a completely different goal to be honest. I was TOAST after my run this Thursday. I cannot imagine having had to go back and do it all over again.

Second, I think, well that means only another 7 miles to go before marathon day (because I will only train to 20 miles). I equally think, WHAT?! SEVEN MORE MILES!

Third, having walked three prior marathons taking somewhere in the neighborhood of 6 hrs and 15 min to almost 7 hours, I think finishing in (hopefully) 5 hours or less seems like a dramatic improvement. But then I think, 5 hours of running? Who signed me up for that??

Fourth, I have come to realize that my biggest fear isn't that I won't finish (I fear I don't have the good sense to know when to stop and I would likely crawl if needed). It is that I will have a really bad time. And if I can adopt a "so what?" attitude then that will be one fear abated. If.

Fifth, Lady Gaga and I can run almost any hill together. Here's to hoping she comes out with some more music before May.

Sixth, I was saying something about my long run for this week and my friend Ange said, "Wait, didn't you just run 12?" Exactly Ange. Exactly...

I will be honest. I don't know that I would have become a distance runner if I didn't have little children. I'll admit it. I do some of it for the break from momma-hood. But this last run, when San and the girls dropped me 13.1 miles from home with kisses and "I'll see you in a couple of hours" I had a different experience. Maybe our girls are getting older and they don't tax quite as much. Maybe it was that poor little Maya had struggled to get good air the past 24 hours and it made me so very grateful that breathing and health are part of our everyday. Maybe it was that San had been so extra sweet to me, made me a new running mix, has been massaging my legs and so has my back through my crazy running schedule, always with a proud and encouraging word. I don't know, but I saw the van pull away from me and I ran for them. I ran home, my family, the people I love most in the world, calling me back.

Or maybe it was that Sandi wrote "Lake Champlain Chocolates" at the bottom of my marathon schedule on the box that reads "Marathon!" and told Ella that it was my reward chart and that if I checked off all the boxes that I could go back to LCC...

ringing the doorbell

Most dogs scratch or bark when they want to come in.

Most cats? Well, I guess I don't know. I suppose they do something radical like meow.

Ours?

He jumps on the screen. Any one of them. And he hangs there until he sees one of us make a move for the door.

It is to the great entertainment of those who drive by and see our big orange cat hanging from the screen of a front window...

rollerderby

Nothing like a little (mostly) naked rollerskating to get the day started...

Did you know it takes 40 gallons of sap to make 1 gallon of maple syrup?

How can not that not make you feel more appreciation when you pour it on your pancakes? How can it not make you want to lick up every bit left on your plate?

Almost done with week 6 of training... 12 miles this morning from Holden into Brewer into Bangor and home to Hampden. Thanks Trish and friend for running the last 2 with me. When the Gatorade fails, friends will pick you up.

driving ms. daisy

This is the way a typical car ride looks these days:

(And picture this scenario happening in the rapid fire manner in which is does where she barely pauses for breath, let alone someone to answer the incessant questions.)

"Momma, if you wanted to get a belly ache eating candy would be a good way to get one. But who would WANT to get a belly ache?"

"What are the square boxes on the road for?"
"Well, they tell drivers when they can-"
"Is sap what makes a tree be alive?"
"No. Sap runs from the tree. A tree lives on-"
"Little chick hill isn't really that little at all is it?"

"I think those workers should ask the government before they go working on the roads?"

"Cars have to obey the rules, right? Why is that?"
"Because it keeps people safe. Road rules are good rules. Most rules are good. But not all rules are good."
"Like which rules?"
"Like the rule that says Mommy and Momma can't get married because we are two girls."
"Yeah, that's not a good rule."

"These bunny ears" (just purchased at Target for $1) "would be much cuter if we had a whole bunny costume. Can we get one? Can we be bunnies for Halloween next year?"
"I don't know. That would be cute but that is far away and I don't want to decide that right now."
"Why? You don't want us to be bunnies? Why not? Halloween is fun. Why don't you think it's fun?"

"This band is called the Cranberries? Really?! That is SO silly! The CRANBERRIES!"

"Does the Earth spin like this?" Makes slow motion with her hands. "Was the Earth always here? Will it always be here?"

"How do people sleep with their eyes open? I mean, does it look like this?" Bug eyes and holds it without a blink.

"Can you choose if you have a boy or a girl baby?" I inform her that you cannot choose, you get whatever you're meant to have. "But I want to be able to pick. I'm glad I wasn't born a boy because then I would have a penis. I'm glad I don't have one of those. I'm glad I have a vagina."

"Can you turn up the music and we can rock it out?"

"Can we take Coconut to Schoodic this summer for summer vacation? And when we do does he have to ride in the carrier or can he be free in the van."

And there I am in the front, simultaneously surging with pride for this bright little mind that is budding behind my upholstered seat and feeling certain that this line of questioning and CONSTANT chatter would be a highly effective device for torture and wondering how I can make it stop. And then there is Maya who either chooses sleep or intermittently yelling, "No Ella Carver!" at her chatterbox sister.

project run-away

These are some snippets of the 45 minute event called Ella getting dressed this morning:

"How would you feel if your mother didn't let you wear the leggings you wanted to?"

"These jeans are cold. I cannot wear them."

"You just wait and see how you feel when you see me running around outside with these leggings and flip flops on!"

"I will not wear anything that is a size 5!"

"I have made so many trips upstairs! I am tired!"

"Why don't I have more jeans??"

Ange says she's going to give me some of her homemade wine with lunch. God help us. I hope we can safely leave the house, clothed, and get to that wine.

no snow + 52 degrees = spring in march?

There is a lot to say about this amazing weekend in Maine. I mean the weather alone was enough to cure cabin fever in one quick swoop.

But, truly, in our little corner of the world, the latest breaking news was this:

Ella has started wearing PANTS.

Not that this has slowed down her clothing obsession because surely it hasn't. This is an outfit from earlier in the day. Her "playing outside/bike riding" ensemble. Look for it in the spring line-up.

Not only did Sandi and I have fun this weekend with an evening out Saturday night (thanks Katie and Alex and friends and thanks the "women" of the March Dragness show) but we also spent Sunday afternoon at a potluck for families like ours. Six 2-mom families gathered for playing and eating and socializing. Who knew there were so many lesbian moms in our area?

But most of Saturday and all of Sunday were spent OUTSIDE. As in, we couldn't get our kids inside if we wanted to.

I went for a run and San packed the girls into the buggy for a walk to meet me. Maya was initially displeased.

Then out came the Goldfish and pandora.com playing on Sandi's blackberry and she was all smiles.

We have the same arm swinging stride.

Even Ella felt like doing some running. She asked me to tie her sweatshirt around her waist so she would "look like a runner."

We had a picnic...

Mochy enjoyed some sunshine..

Does anyone else look at these pictures and wonder how on earth these kids got so big?

decadence

Story: We went to a lesbian moms potluck this weekend. (As someone said regarding this get together: "Wow, I bet lesbian moms make great food!") I saw this as an opportunity to make the sort of extravagent dessert (that would be very unwise to make for my family and have sitting on the counter speaking to me at 1 am about my need to consume more dark chocolate ganache) and utilize my new favorite cook book "Pure Chocolate" by Fran Bigelow. This book spares no calorie, nor spare second. This was a cake that literally had 6 separate steps over 2 days and took skills I didn't previously possess.

Luckily Sandi came and helped with the tricky timing and decorating of the finished top of the cake, a step that had me sweating.

And ta da! Behold blanc et noir:

dress-up

I didn't know when you played dress-up you could actually go from being a mischief maker into a little angel...

overheard...

This is what things have sounded like in our house lately:

"Momma, we're playing marathon." (Ella and Maya wearing Sandi's sneakers.)"Actually I think I want to wear your Brooks." Who knew this child knew that I wear Brooks sneakers? And is this a good or bad sign that our kids play "marathon?" I didn't see any crying or swearing or blisters or that why-did-I-get-myself-into-this look on their faces so I'm thinking they don't completely get it.

Following up with Ella after an interruption (probably Maya banging her head for the 10th time that day or falling off the couch or something equally as plausible): "Okay Ella, what was your question about vaginas?"

Ella, out of the blue:

"Do people get little when they get old?"

"Do you think Noah" (our blind 6 year-old relative) "would be happier if he could see?"

"Haley challenged me to wear blue to school today."

After running over a frost heave: "Did we just run over someone?"

After running back and forth in a dead sprint from living room to kitchen and back: "Momma, my boob is beating."

After being asked to decorate some white paper for the second time in a week to wrap a gift in for someone she really loves: "Don't we HAVE any wrapping paper?"

While Maya screams and screams about the food put before her at supper: "Doesn't anyone know that Momma made a yummy supper?"

Commenting on my necklace:
"Momma what kind of tree is that?"
"I think it is an oak."
"No, it is the tree of life and the branches are its children."

And then yesterday before leaving for school there was a MAJOR meltdown when I had to break the news to ELla that I had given away the stuffed Yertle the turtle from the Dr. Suess book. (The one that I had given away 6 months ago, whose absence had gone unnoticed and who, it turns out from reading the book the previous evening, was not really a very nice turtle. He was more like a dictator turtle.)

"Why would you give him away?" Teaching moment: there are some kids who don't have toys, who don't always even have enough money for food. You have everything you need and want and more. When you don't play with your toys, it lets me know that they aren't very important and I give them to kids who will want them. That is also how we make room for new toys. Imagine a little girl who is now holding Yertle lovingly under her arm and sleeping with him tucked in her bed at night...

"But I loved Yertle."

"What if its a boy that has him? I wouldn't want a boy to have him!"

"Are you going to give away my cat too? What about my blanket?"

"Its a good thing I still have the book to I have...(deep sob)...something...(hiccup)...to...remember...(heave)...him byyyyyyyy!"

Goodness gracious. Oscar worthy for sure.

Then there is Maya who throws her toys in the bathtub to clean up, who runs around the house shouting, "Ma lips!" "Ma feet!" "Ma diaper!" and any other pronouncement she wishes to make about herself and her body. She has taken a shine to cough drops (which have been plentiful in our cough-ridden house) and steals them whenever our backs are turned. "Maya's wheat drop?" as she calls them. She likes to be chased down, thrown over your head, likes when people pretend cry and likes to sharpen her teeth on any nearby flesh of someone who has angered her.

We figured it out the other day. Ella, the cautious, discerning one, took three hours for me to push from my body and in the end had to be extracted by vacuum. Maya, by contrast, came out in 3 solid pushes totaling a mere 4 minutes. Out like a rocket and shooting through our house ever since.