Daddy Bedtime

O: Daddy, let's play knights of the shining armor.  

I've been in rehearsal or doing a show for the past two months and I just started rehearsal for a new show, so I'll be on the same schedule for the next two months.  Most nights during the week, I'm not here for bedtime.  

O & P, you are welcome. He's basically the best.

Bedtime has become Jim's domain.  Evidently, after P goes to sleep, he and O enter a magical fantasy world with dragons, knights, and pillow forts.  I hope, when I'm all done, I'll be invited too. 

I love working.  I love having a creative space. I love having actual conversations with adults. I love knowing that the girls are with Jim and that they are having pajama-clad adventures in our living room.  I don't love missing playing knights of the shining armor.  I don't love missing the soft, sweet smell of P's breath as she falls asleep in my arms.  When I get home, they are already asleep, breathing softly.  I don't love that.  

A Mommy Blerg: A Promise

O: I promise I won't forget to love you forever, ever never again. 

(The above quote is a complete fabrication.  Nothing resembling that sentence has ever issued from O's mouth)

I have ambivalent feelings about blogging, especially being a "mommy blogger." Yet, as this project continues I am buoyed by everyone's kind words and positive feedback.  When I first started considering sharing my writing and my life in this way, I began keeping a list of things I would not do, things this blog would not become.  So here are my promises, to myself and to you.

1. I promise I will write in complete and grammatically correct sentences.  When I don't, it will be a specific choice because of style or tone, or a proof reading error, so blame Jim.

2. I promise I will never call anybody DH, DD1, or DD2.  I will never be TTC or EBF. If something makes me laugh, I will describe, with language, how I fell to the floor and rolled with glee.  

DD2 is so cute it makes me want to ROTFL, or something like that

3. I won't rant, not because ranting isn't fun, but because this isn't the forum for it.  That is what late nights on the couch with Jim and a bottle of wine are for.  

4. I won't pad out a list.  If I only have four things to share, I won't restate one to get to five. 

5. My lists will only contain information that I want to share one time. (I just couldn't resist. I'm not proud)

6. I won't overshare.  This is tricky, because by some people's standards I already have. Just know that anything I do choose to share will be shared mindfully and with forethought. 

7. I won't try to sell you anything.  If I share about a service or a product, it will only be because we use that product and it genuinely makes our lives easier/better/more fun.

seriously, though, this is the best lunch box ever

8. I will use my own images.  I won't load a post with a bunch of open-source, uninteresting pictures.  I have a fancy new camera.  I am trying to learn how to use it.  

oooh, a fancy picture of a basketball that I took all by myself

9. I won't invent O quotes. If a blog post starts with a quote from the kids, I promise, they said it.

 "Though she be but little, she is fierce."

-Billy Shakespeare, regarding P

10. I won't turn my post titles into click-bait. I Got My Kids To Sleep Twelve Hours in Their Own Beds: click here to find out how.  

Is there anything you hate about blogs, or anything that you would like to see more of?

Growth Spurt

O: It is time to go to sleep, P, so you can grow big and strong like sissy. 

O went to bed and woke up an inch taller.  Her shoes don't fit anymore and her pants are too short.  She can't even shimmy into her most recent bathing suit.  She leaned out and shot up, her sweet round face morphing over night into the face of a girl instead of my baby.  

She was walking away from me, and I saw in her gait, her length, her shape, the adult O, striding into the rest of her life, with my hair,  her father's calves, and a confidence entirely her own.  

When Jim sends me pictures of P via text, I first think that it must be O, with pudgy knees and fluffy hair, until I enlarge the thumbnail and find, my newborn there, looking all too much like a toddler.  I swear, she was just born a minute ago. Or was it a year? Or was it nearly two?  

Stop it.  Both of you.  I need a chance to catch my breath, to catch up.  I feel like I'm missing all of it. Just stop it.  Okay?

Shake, Rattle, Roll, Repeat

O: I missed it.  I missed the earth shake. 

We had an earthquake this week, a pretty good shake.  O slept through it and P was eating a banana and therefore, barely noticed. We live right at the epicenter, so while family and friends who live relatively close by barely registered it, we certainly felt it.  It was not the biggest quake I've ever experienced, I grew up here and remember Northridge, but it was the first time I can remember that an earthquake really scared me.  I lay in bed afterwards wondering, if this had been the big one, or if it was a precursor to the big one, what would we do, where would we go?

We are prepared.  We have supplies and water in a safe spot.  We know how to turn off the main gas line.  We have a point of contact outside of California that all of our family knows to get in touch with in case we can't call within the state.  We have a spot, a local park, where we would meet if we were separated and  our home wasn't safe. Still, it is different, somehow, with two tiny people.  The idea that my arms holding them wouldn't be enough to keep them safe keeps me up at night.  There will be another one, it is only a matter of time.  

planning to add some toys and basic art supplies to our home and car kit 

This weekend, we are going to check all of our supplies, pull them out, replace what might need replacing and add a bottle of whiskey for good measure.  This rumble was a good reminder.  We live on a living planet.  There are things we can do to be ready when she sneezes.  

Here is a list of resources that Jim (code name: Captain Safety) used to help put together our home and car emergency kits and some resources on teaching children about earthquake safety:

United States Geological Survey: Talking to kids about earthquake safety

Seven Steps to Earthquake Safety: What to do before, during and after an earthquake

List of Recommended Items for a Basic Emergency Kit

Our Pre-packed Emergency Kit -We purchased a kit from this company for a family of four, but we have supplemented it with other things from the resources above.  

The Gap

O: Mommy, what did you do before I got here?

There is this gap between the type of parent you imagine you will be and the type of parent you are. The hypothetical conversations about attachment parenting, discipline, rules, and diapers that take place between partners or friends are the breeding ground for those definitive statements about things we'll never do. They start from a seed of judgement but grow from our own self-doubt and fear.  

I try to look back on pre-O Kate's ideas about parenthood fondly and gently.  I admire her enthusiasm and regret only her absolutism.  I try to remember her when I'm talking to people who don't have children yet.  I try to stifle my laughter, my eye roll, or my snide remarks, when they share with me the things they think they'll never do.

I forgive her for her naïveté.  She couldn't know. She couldn't know how terrible and wonderful it would be all at once.  She couldn't know how much she would be willing to give up for sixty-seconds of uninterrupted silence.  She couldn't know how the long stretches of complete boredom and drudgery would be punctuated by moments of sheer, blinding, white-hot bliss.  She couldn't know how badly she would need community, how isolating and lonely being a parent can be.  She just couldn't.  

The type of parent that I am today is kinder, more loving, and more flexible than pre-O Kate could ever imagine.  She dances in the rain, does cartwheels, and goes to bed without finishing the dishes. She has learned that there is joy in the smallest things.  She eats ice cream right out of the container and has french fry parties.  She makes mistakes, big, terrible, unfixable mistakes, that she forgives herself for and learns from, or at least tries to.  I could have never even conceptualized the parent that I am, because the parent that I am has been shaped and molded by who my children are becoming.  I owe them a debt of gratitude for that. 

Five Things I Swore I'd Never Do

O: It's ok mom, I'll just watch another DVDV. 

Before I had kids, I swore I would never

1. give them food I haven't paid for yet in the grocery store.

I will buy your silence with string cheese, even before I buy your string cheese.

I came here to kick butt and eat string cheese and we are all out of string cheese

2. ever use a disposable diaper.

We were so close, but I can not tell a lie.  When it is after midnight and I discover we are all out of clean cloth diapers, I'm super happy about that secret stash of disposable diapers, left over from our Grand Canyon trip, I have hidden in the trunk of the car.  

they just take so long to dry

3. let them have screen time on road trips.

Kids need to be bored, I said. It's when they stretch their brains and use their imagination, I said. Evidently, I said a lot of silly things.

4. utter the phrase, "Because I said so."

To be fair, I did say so, and sometimes, shouldn't that be enough?

5. start a blog, but especially, a mommy blog.

Oops.

The Beach: Pro Tip

O: Let's go dip our toes in the big blue ocean.

Jim and I both grew up in Southern California. Here is our tip.  Go to the beach, in the evening, in the winter, seriously.  It will be empty.  It will be peaceful.  It will be beautiful.  

It always sounds harder than it is.  Go.

Stay until the sun sets.  You'll never regret it.  

I promise.

Humming Birds and Trumpet Vines

P: AAhhh egg canto black plaaa.  

O: She said she is going to find a spot where the flowers will grow, because that is the spot that will make them happy. 

We are too sick to go to school, but too well to stay home, and the weather has been beautiful, so we ventured out to the nursery.  There is a small family-owned nursery that has been around for generations, just a few blocks from us.  

this is our smelling flowers face

While wandering the rows O spotted a humming bird's nest.  She admonished me not to disturb the mama while I took her picture, but was perfectly delighted when I offered to scoop her up so she could get a closer look.  

Is it spring yet? It sure feels like it.

We found a climbing trumpet vine, with pink flowers.  It looks healthy enough and the man assured us that it would thrive in our very shallow, full-sun, flower box outside our front window. 

Behold, the conquering hero

Every morning, on waking, O rushes to the front window to update us on the vine's progress. So far, we have gotten a new flower every day, well worth the twelve dollars and fifty cents, especially if you include the fresh air, the humming bird's nest, and the sense of accomplishment. 

They have the most beautiful orchids.  I have yet to bring an orchid home.  I tend to kill plants, not with neglect, but with an abundance of love, a good metaphor for my parenting (I'm working on it). Perhaps, next time, I'll bring an orchid home to practice mindful neglect. 

Wanted: Infinitely Patient, Brillant Scientist

O: Why does our skin move? Why don't our bellies have any bones? What's the ooey stuff between my hair and my head? Why is a dragon not a dinosaur? Why am I not a dragon? Why does bread get hard when you leave it out? Why? Mom? Moooom? Mom?

O: I got a smart thinkin' brain.

Wanted: an infinitely patient, brilliant scientist, preferably with a weird sense of humor and a background in earth science, biology, paleontology, evolution, and mythology.  Needs to love children and answering questions.  

Why am I worried that this is some kind of upside-down flag, anarchy symbol that means Jim and I should be very afraid?

I'm no dummy. I love science. I studied botany and physics in college (and political science, and linguistics, and psychology, but that is a conversation for another day). 

I'm doing my best.  Drawing on everything that I can remember,  I am trying to take each query honestly and answer it genuinely.

K: Our skin moves, because we move and it needs to be flexible so that it will move with us. There are no bones in our bellies because that soft tissue is where a lot of our organs are and they expand depending on what they are doing and bones would get in the way of their function. I have no idea what the ooey stuff between your hair and your head is, but we are definitely washing your hair tonight. A dragon is not a dinosaur because dragons are mythical beasts and dinosaurs are archeological fact that we can observe in the fossil record. You are not a dragon because you were born of human parents, and for that I apologize, because it is almost entirely my fault. Bread gets hard when you leave it out because the moisture in the bread evaporates into the atmosphere and it becomes, what we call, stale.  

Oh, no.  Next, P is going to start asking me questions about trees.  

But, apparently, it is not enough.  So if you know anyone who meets the above description and works cheap, please, send them my way.  

O: Why does the sky turn orangy pinky when the sun sets?

K: Because, well, light refracts at different angles and then, well. Why don't you ask Daddy?

I would also settle for a very talented creative writing major, who could tell her beautiful, artistic and complex lies, but watch out, the kid knows when you're reaching.  She's got a smart thinkin' brain. 

We Only Have One Refrigerator

O: Not that one, Momma.  That one is the dust cloud that made all the dinosaurs get dead.  

K: How about this one?

O: Yeah, you can cut up that one.  It's just a dragon eating a princess. 

painting stance

O is as prolific as Picasso. And sure, each painting is a precious delicate flower and I’m going to save all of them. Except, I’m not. We live in a very, very small space, and we like it that way, but it means that choices have to be made and clutter must be vanquished. Here are four of the ways we’ve come up with to deal with the artistic output.

Warning: the below suggestions involve the destruction of your tiny one’s masterworks. We generally go through the stack together and pick a few that are not to be altered. I generally lean towards ones that O can tell me a story about; O gravitates toward anything sparkly. If you are a completist and cannot imagine parting with even one of these treasures, in the interest of your home not becoming the next episode of Hoarders, let me recommend ArtKive, an app that lets you photograph, tag, and date your kid’s work. They also make lovely coffee table books from the images. It is quick and easy, and the app is free.

and now P is getting in on the act

1. Wrapping paper-We usually give books and those large preschool paintings are just right for wrapping picture books.

2.Thank you cards-Just find something blank on the back and cut a rectangle, fold in half and write a note in the middle. Bam, homemade thank yous.

Bonus: This year O wasn’t going to go to school on Valentine’s day because we were planning a long weekend. We didn’t pack in time and ended up deciding to send her at the last minute. I grabbed a stack of paintings that leaned red, cut out twenty hearts, and she scrawled her O on the back. The cheapest (read free) and most environmentally friendly Valentines ever.

2. Packing material-Ok, I know, this one hurts a little, but remember Artkive, and remember Hoarders. It makes it a little easier as you are crumpling up those paintings and shoving them in a box. Plus, I can not tell you how many thank you notes we have received that have said more about the packing material than the gift. 

3. Papier Mâché-Cut long strips of the paper, blow up a balloon, dilute some white school glue with water and go to town. This is a messy proposition. A drop cloth is advisable. Outdoors is preferred. Younger kids like to just layer the sticky pieces on the balloon, but you can encourage older kids to create masks. You can always go back and cut eyes and mouths with a pen knife once your creations are dry.  Note: any kind of shiny paper is not a great choice, the closer you can get to the look and feel of newsprint the better.

Full disclosure: This doesn't actually solve any problems, but instead creates a new one.  Now you have to throw out three dimensional pieces of art instead of just paintings, but, hey, it kills an afternoon.  

4. Grandparents-There is no shame in making them someone else's to throw away.

or they might just keep them forever

Any storage tips from the parents who keep it all?