"Fun"

There was a GNO scheduled yesterday. It sounded fun.

I was an evite "maybe." However, after a fussing/screaming marathon provided by my children during the last few daylight hours, I realized that, while the "night out" was right, it would be better to decline the "s."

So, after putting Damon to bed, I left, with Steven's blessing, to go do something. By myself.

And while this may not astound anyone, I am now indisputably a Boring Mom. Because here is where I went:

1. Goodwill, to look for a stand for my new globe (fruitless)

2. Lowes, to return screw plugs that didn't fit the new bunkbeds

3. Kohl's, to look for 12M terry cloth pajamas for Damon (fruitless)

4. Culvers, to get a Turtle sundae for me (yummy)

5. HEB (grocery store), to get bananas and avocados for Damon, and look at their current $1 jewelry to see if they had anything good for Princess Carmen (fruitful, but jewelryless)

The best part was probably Culvers - it was neat to sit there BY MYSELF, without talking to anyone. I just sat and enjoyed my sundae and watched people. The busboy was perfect - a sweet, gangling teenager with a dorky hat on sandy, shaggy hair and a winsome smile showing his braces-clad teeth, working his geeky little heart out. I just wanted to give him a hug and say, "What a good boy you are. Hang in there. Don't lose the drive and optimism you have right now. Don't try to acquire the arrogance and bravado that girls think they like. Keep being you. Trust me - some day, you will make some woman very, very happy."

So, it was a good Girl Night Out after all.

Forgive me, Mr. Mitchell

Ah, the folly of youth. I just started re-reading Great Expectations (I love, love, love my Kindle). WHY, oh why did I not appreciate the genius of Charles Dickens before? Even as a high school freshman, one would think I could enjoy the comedic value in these gems:

Pip's guilt as he goes to feed an escaped convict:

and his fictional description of his play date at Miss Havisham's:

I love Joe the blacksmith, and can identify so well with Pip's description of his childhood perceptions and feelings. It's just masterful. Such a far cry from the junk reading I download from the Kindle top 100 free list (some time I'll have to blog about my exposure to Christian romance novels - also comedic gems, in a much less intended way).

Alikes Attract: or Why I Didn’t Marry an Abercrombie Guy

The last couple of nights I have been devouring a book by Mary Roberts Rinehart called K. Oh, my, it’s good. And it’s in the public domain, so you can get it free online!

Anyway, last night, I couldn’t wait to get back to it. The kids were in bed and I’d just cleaned the kitchen. I jumped into bed and snuggled up with my kindle and started to enjoy.

Just then I was struck by how lucky I am to be married to Steven. You know those metrosexual guys with the pomade hair and creatine-chests who like hanging out with their buddies? There’s no way that someone like me could enjoy being with a guy like that. What would we talk about? How could we be comfortable being together and saying nothing? Steven is the perfect husband for a girl who can’t wait to cuddle up at night with a book that’s 100 years old and 300 pages long (and him). He’s the kind of guy who would (and did) get his own book and cuddle up next to me so we could snuggle up and play footsies while we read. He’d rather go to the symphony with me than go jet skiing with his buddies. When he comes home from work, instead of heading off for the gym, he becomes a jungle gym for our kids. Rather than protein shakes, he eats the homemade falafel pitas and cucumber sauce I made for dinner, and enjoys trying new things. He has a soft, calming voice that sings beautifully and says intelligent, kind, and honest things – never crude, harsh, or demeaning words. He has big, sexy hands that are perfect for playing the piano, writing code, making things with wood, stroking my hair, and unscrewing baby food jars. From this description, you’d think I’d made him up, but he’s real and really mine, and I really like him.

Moral of the story: it’s nice to be married to someone who appreciates the same quiet things. And, you should all read K, especially if you’re related to me.

My Little Girlies

This morning, a friend who has some older girls (who are some of our favorite babysitters) dropped off a bag of toys they'd grown out of: My Little Ponies and Polly Pockets. Immediately, and for hours today, this ensued:

It amazes me that kids don't have to be taught how to play with toys. See how the ponies are lined up? They're playing some kind of school/party/church thing. I hear them upstairs now singing "Happy Birthday" to somebody. (I was deftly evicted from the room as soon as I snapped the picture.)

Some of my fondest memories of growing up are spending hours playing with Barbies and Ponies with Brook and Crystal. We had this green shag carpet that was perfect grass, and the ponies frolicked through hours of storylines that spanned weeks - or maybe a day; time felt different then. Now, of course, I have to rack my brain to come up with bedtime stories (last night, Carmen made it easy by asking for one about when I was a little goat.) Maybe I just need to hold some Ponies in my hand to make the creative juices flow.

In any case, it makes my heart happy to see my girls entering Ponyland.

12 hours, uninterrupted

It's been over a week now, so I feel comfortable saying that it's official: Damon is sleeping through the night. As in, 7:30 to 7:30.

Ahhhhhh.

Clothing the world's smallest bottom

This summer I ventured (forced by nature, chlorine, and cheapness) into a new domain in sewing: swim suits. Midway through the summer, Olivia's swimming suit died - one day the lycra just decided it had had enough, and we walked away from the pool with Olivia's swim shirt drooping past her knees.

At that point, I could have bought her a new swimming suit, but everything in stores needs to be altered anyway to fit her 4T length and 18 month girth (no, that is not an exaggeration). I've heard there are stores that carry slim sizes, but I didn't have time to order and have it get here before the end of the summer, and I didn't want to pay that much.

Instead I went, armed with a 50% off coupon, to Joann's. Their selection of swimsuit fabric wasn't great (I'll buy online next time), but they did have pink, which is always satisfactory to Olivia. A couple of hours later, I had a suit that actually fit my daughter and with which we were both pleased. I based the pattern on Carmen's swim bottoms (made slightly smaller) and one of Olivia's nightgowns. I love that she's covered on top for modesty and sun-safety, but it still looks like a swimsuit (and it's a two-piece, so she can put it on and go to the bathroom by herself!) And I love that the bottoms actually fit her!

Altogether, I probably spent $6 and 3 hours on the suit (shopping included). Will I do it again? Absolutely. (But maybe not next year, because I already found some next-year clearance suits for $4.)

Photo shoot

I took the kids to the portrait studio to get their pictures taken. We got some good ones for the wall and to send to grandparents (and anyone else who wants them - seriously, if you want 50 wallets of each of my kids, just say the word).

BUT...my favorite pictures of the morning were probably these that we didn't buy. They were the last ones taken, and the kids were obviously done. I would absolutely love to have this group framed together on my wall, but couldn't justify paying for it just so I could chuckle and snort as I passed it. At least I get to share them here with you, though. (I just love the succession.)