The Warm Up

For some reason, whenever we go on playdates, Big needs about 30-45 minutes to 'warm up' to her friends. Even if she knows them well. And plays with them nearly every day. And BEGS to have a playdate with that person.

I have no idea what this is about. We get all psyched up about playing with a friend, and then -- shortly after we arrive -- Big often turns into a whiner.

"I'm hungry." at 9:30 in the morning, and we ate our breakfast in the car on the way to the event.

"I'm tired." after a 2 hour nap in prep for whatever playdate or event we are attending with friends.

"He/she won't play with me." when we've been there a total of 10 minutes and she just spent the previous 8 minutes telling me she is hungry and tired.

Like I said, NO idea what this is about. I mean, I have a pretty good kid. She's fairly easy to get a long with, and I know she has a lot of friends. She loves going on playdates -- and we do them quite a bit. She gets all excited, talks about it for days leading up (if that much lead time is given) -- even does things like picks out special outfits or plans special games, all in anticipation of playing with a friend.

Then the playdate arrives, and Big suddenly becomes somebody that nobody wants to play with.

Usually, after about a half an hour or so, the playing FINALLY commences, and the playdate goes off without a hitch. It's just getting through that initial period that takes some teeth gritting and behavior management -- mainly by me. I'm the one that gets annoyed. The other kid rarely notices . . . it's just Mom tuned in to the whining and complaining coming out of Big.


I'm sure it's mostly a 'me' thing, anyway . . . I have a feeling Big does not do this as much when I'm not around. She has a tendency to act WAY more difficult -- excuse me, I mean way more different-- when I'm around. People swear she is an angel on the playdates I don't attend, and my dad is convinced Big only misbehaves in my presence. Which is a real shame -- because I LIKE going on lots of the playdates Big attends. It's typically a chance for me to chat with another adult . . . once the first 30 minutes is past and Big is actually playing and having a great time with her friends, and I am allowed the time to decompress and chat.

And no -- arriving early to a playdate does not help. Big just stands around asking me 1,000,000 times . . . "When will so-and-so arrive?!" And then when they do arrive, we still have the same reaction we would have had without me having to be badgered for the 15 or so minutes leading up to our date.


Guess I'll have to start warning my friends about the 'warm up' period. Just so they know that my kid IS fun and that she is worthy of the playdate invitation. And so that I keep getting invited along on the playdates . . . because Mommy needs them as much as Big.

Gooooaaaaallllll!

Just a quick note to record: Big scored a goal today at her soccer game!

And not like last week's goal . . . where she was just kinda standing in the vicinity of the goal and happened to get the last foot on the ball before it went in. I mean, she still gets credit for that in my book, but I'm not sure SHE even knew she kicked that one in.

Today, Big took control of the ball at mid field, dribbled it town in 4 or 5 kicks, then whacked that ball right into the goal. Go Big! It was a hard earned score, with the other 5 kids on the field dragging behind her, trying to steal her glory. But she remained in control of the ball and scored a hard fought, well earned point for her team (who doesn't keep score).

I was so proud on the sidelines, watching my big kid. And to see her little face light up when she realized what she'd done -- and when she realized that the cheering from the fans was all for her -- well, that was priceless.

Hopefully the beginning of many soccer successes to come.

But I'm not holding my breath . . . tonight at dinner, when I asked Big what her favorite part of the soccer game was, she replied with, "Ummmm . . . sitting on the sides and drinking my water from my Princess water bottle. (pause) And snack after the game. (pause) Who is bringing snack next week, Daddy?"

A Haircut

I cut my baby's hair.

Sniff. Sniff.

Well, I didn't actually cut it -- a much more trained professional did . . . and thank God I'm writing about THAT and not some tragedy like Big getting a hold of some scissors . . . but any way you slice it, it was a traumatic event for Mommy.

The time had come, and Little needed a haircut. She's 2+ now, and her hair was really starting to grow in all different directions. I had held out long enough. You know it's bad when Grandaddy -- who thinks the girls are beautiful in any state -- made the comment that Little's hair was getting a little wacky. I was pulling it up every single day because it looked so crazy when left down . . . so I really knew the time had come.

With Big, I was not at all apprehensive about cutting her baby hair. She was just about 15 months old when I took her for the first time . . . much earlier than little sister. But -- I learned my lesson with Big. When you cut those baby curls, they don't come back. The baby hair is never the same after it's cut . . . it's just not baby hair anymore. Big's first shear shocker came when she was so tiny -- and her curls were gone before I knew it. I was not about to do the same thing to Little. So I held out as looooong as I could . . . but I did realize that one day her hair would need cutting. And so that day was last Thursday.

Camera in tow, we visited our favorite children's haircut establishment: Pigtails & Crewcuts.

"The pigtails are for the girls and the screwcuts are for the boys," Big announced as we walked from the car to the store.

Um, yes -- something like that, Big.

The wait was long -- I knew better than to go at 3:30pm, right after elementary school gets out -- but we waited because it was a 'now or never' situation with our schedule. The place is completely geared toward kids, with millions of toys and games, coloring books and movies -- so it didn't matter to the kids at all that we had to wait our turn. They probably would have been ticked if they hadn't been able to wait and play.

When our turn finally came, Big volunteered Little to go first (both girls were getting trimmed), and Little was a little worried. She started to whine and attempted to cry -- but I plopped her into a big yellow taxi cab seat, and she was no longer worried. She did look a little stressed at times . . . but I think that was just fear of the unknown. After all, it was her first time to sit in the fun chair and have her hair cut.

"It hurt?" she questioned.

"No, Little -- it won't hurt at all. Do you want some animal crackers?"

"Kaaa-kers! Yes peeese." And Little was all set. The promise of a lollipop at the end of the cut was all it took for Little to stop the tears and settle in for the big event.

Before I knew it, there was a little ringlet of blond curl being handed to me for my 'first cut' keepsake, and more of those little blond hairs were falling effortlessly to the ground. In about 10 minutes time, Little's baby hair was no longer baby . . . she had a real hair cut. Shorter to even it out all the way around, and little sideswept bangs because they seemed to be naturally growing in that way.

And the whole time -- during and after the cut -- I was choking back tears. Really. I wanted to cry -- and who knows why. Maybe because Little is still very much my baby, and cutting her hair made her just that must LESS baby. Who knows. But it was emotional for me, as crazy as that sounds.

Big got a hair cut next, which was really no big deal. Like I said, she's being going since she was just over a year old. Big is actually getting WAY to big to sit in the car seats they have for little ones -- but she still insists. This time, she sat in the red fire engine and turned the steering wheel back and forth every bit as much as her baby sister had done during her turn. Maybe there is still a little baby left in Big, too.

They look good, the new hair 'dos. My girls have the craziest, curliest-and-straight hair I've ever seen -- but we certainly left Pigtails and Crewcuts looking better than when we had arrived.

And now yet another milestone has come and gone for my second born -- she has officially had her first hair cut.

For the Love of Dinner

I must vent. And this might be a totally ridiculous one -- something everyone does, but I rarely hear others complain about.

If there is one thing that I do daily that, lately, is driving me nuts . . . it's the daily dinner decision.


What's for dinner? What time will we eat? If I eat enough, can I have dessert? Will the girls eat it? What did we have yesterday? What are we having tomorrow?


UGH.



Some days, I want to open our pantry and fridge and tell the girls, "Just eat whatever you want until you are full, then close the doors behind you." (I've never actually done that, but -- trust me -- I really want to.)




For me, the problem with dinner is that I have to think about it almost first thing in the morning. The thought of, "What are we doing about dinner tonight?" always crosses my mind as I put cream in my coffee and cereal on the breakfast table. And day after day, morning after morning, I get tired of planning our dinner before I've even decided what's for breakfast. Sometimes, I have to plan our nightly meals for an entire week before the week gets started to ensure I have what it takes to feed my kids all week long. It's the planning that gets to me . . . I just get tired of it. Tired of planning, of thinking about dinner all the freakin' time.



SO annoying to me -- the planning, the prep, the repetitiveness of it all. But, it has to be done.



It's all about the preparation. I have to plan our whole afternoon around what we are having for dinner and how long it will take to prepare it. Hence the need to start thinking about it in the morning -- I have to start with a 6pm dinner time, back up 30-60 minutes for prep and cooking, which means that our afternoon must revolve around what time the dinner stuff starts. I have to figure out what we are eating for dinner on busy days so that I don't get everyone home in the late afternoon, hungry and ready to eat -- and THEN have to make the dinner decision. I have to figure out what we are eating on not-so-busy days so that I can take advantage and make something that leaves good leftovers for more than one meal. Plan Plan Plan. BLECH.





If it's going to be a 'regular dinner' -- as categorized in my mind -- I probably need to take something out of the freezer first thing in the am in order to have it defrosted and ready to go by late afternoon. A 'regular dinner' is meat, veggies, and starch -- and I try to do that type of meal about 3 times a week.

* Side note: YES, I make full dinners when Jim is not home. I must -- if I only made full meals when he's here, the girls wouldn't get these nice meals often enough. Daddy or no Daddy, I want my girls to grow up with a regular meal at the dinner table. I did, and so will they. *

If it's a 'left over night', then I just have to think about what I'm going to make to go with the leftovers, if anything is needed. Those are easier days.

And then I have my 'quick nights' where the girls get Kid Cuisines, grilled cheese, frozen pizza, fish sticks, nuggets, etc. I try not to have these more than once or twice a week -- I save them for Bunco nights or nights when we are just running from one thing to another.

We don't eat out often during the week because (a) I'm not taking 2 kids out to eat solo and (b) I don't like eating fast food any more often than we already do. Our fast food is usually a quick lunch once or twice a week -- and that's enough for me.



Like emptying the dishwasher, putting away the clean laundry, changing the diapers . . . making something (healthy) for dinner is another chore that has become ridiculously monotonous for this SAHM day after day after day.



You know some of the times I am quickest to snap at Jim? When we have a date night -- or just a night when he's actually home for dinner -- and he says, "What would you like to do for dinner?" Most of the time, my quick reply is: "For dinner? I want YOU to decide what we are doing about dinner." Maybe if I don't stop snapping at him when he so kindly considers my opinion on our dinner plans, he may start trying the 'open the fridge' trick on me.

Anyway, like I said at the start -- I just needed to vent. Dinner is driving me bananas.

Hmm, Bananas . . . that's interesting . . . what can I make with bananas for dinner tomorrow?

This COULD Make it Official

Here she is: our big girl at her first soccer game. As I drove home from Quest Park and an hour of soccer fun, I wondered . . . does this officially make me a 'Soccer Mom' ??

Big is playing Smidgets Soccer -- 4/5 Yr Olds, no cleats, no score, 1/2 field soccer. Jim was a HUGE soccer player in his youth . . . his family literally traveled all over the country for his tournaments and games, and he even pursued college scholarships in the sport. He loves it. As a matter of fact, one of my memories from Big's birth was that the World Cup Soccer games were on our hospital room TV all morning . . . Jim was so excited to be at the hospital w/me so he could watch them all day. Seeing the birth of our child was exciting for him, too.

Anyway, Jim has been stoked about having a soccer playing kid since the girls were each born. And Sunday, it finally happened.

They do start soccer leagues in our area at age 3 -- but I just thought Big was not big enough for soccer last year. I envisioned myself running up and down the sidelines, reminding her that the ball was not HERS and that, yes, the other kids could kick it. We waited until the 4 year old program, and I think it was a wise move. Yesterday was a bit overwhelming for all the kids -- including Big -- and I think trying to do this a year ago would have been insane for us.

The picture above captured only a momentary breakdown -- because someone else got her ball. See? Big reminded me quickly that it's 4 year old soccer. We all have a lot to learn. Luckily, she recovered quickly and there was no more crying after the warm ups were complete.

They started with stretching, received their own individual balls, working on dribbling, then set up the game. It's 3 on 3 soccer -- there are 3 girls and 3 boys on our team -- so everyone gets to play plenty. Two fifteen minute halfs and a halftime in the middle. The total time commitment for the kids and parents is one hour each Sunday, which I think is completely age appropriate.

Oh? And did I mention? Jim is the coach.

During registration, I learned that coaches are always needed -- and since it was on a Sunday (an almost-never-travel day), I thought Jim might be up for it. I mean, he's so psyched about having our kids play soccer, I thought he might like to consider the coaching opportunity. Without hesitation, he signed up for the job. I was so proud of him -- taking on six 4 or 5 year olds is not easy, but he wouldn't miss it for the world. He's been nervous about it the past week or so . . . what to bring for snack, how to organized the kids . . . but it all fell in to place on Sunday with no problems. Jim was even complimented by some other parents about how he handled it all. Again, he makes me proud.

Once the skills session was complete and the game started, the kids were like a little clump of blue and black, huddled around the ball. There is no position playing, no strategy to learn. They just run wherever the ball is and try with all their might to get a good kick in. We are basically encouraging 2 things: don't touch the ball with your hands and kick it in the goal that belongs to YOUR team. And have fun, of course. But, by the way these kids were smiling and going at it, the fun is without question.

We all enjoyed a snack and some drinks at the end (we decided on frozen go-gurts, a big hit), and everyone looked toward our game next week.

So our first day on the fields was a success. Big had a lot of fun -- scored a goal, even! -- and Jim seemed to have a blast out there with his team. The Dragons, they are called. We all look forward to two months of cheering the Dragons toward victory . . . or at least cheering them toward the right goal.

And, by the way, I don't really consider myself a 'Soccer Mom' yet. We have to make sure the kids like the game . . . and, besides, I don't think you are truly official until you have some kind of soccer ball magnet on the back of your car.

Hello?? Are you There?

I'm here with my kids nearly every day, all day. Yet, lately, I feel like I'm not 'with' them enough. I'm not engaged. I'm just passing time, trying to get through each day. I'm here, but I'm somewhere else.



Strange to say that I'm a SAHM, and I feel like I'm not 'with' my kids enough.



I feel like I'm just passing the time from one event to another. Like right now -- I'm sitting here on the computer, Big is watching 'Alvin and the Chipmunks' for the 100th time on the TV, and I'm waiting for Little to wake up from her afternoon nap. And when she does, I'll have to find something to fill the 90 minutes or so between that wake up and my 5:30pm dinner making date. Then it's a quick two hours of meal, clean up, bath, stories, bed. Then tomorrow it starts again . . . wake up, drop off, dentist visit, kill an hour, pick up, lunch, naps, dance class, dinner, baths, bed.



Nowhere in there do I feel like I'm setting aside enough time to actually BE with my kids. I should bust out Big's preschool book and do activities with her . . . or I should at least sit with her and let her snuggle with me while she watches her movie . . . but I want to do something else.



I know other moms feel this way. I know I'm not alone. Please tell me I'm not alone. Tell me that I'm not the only one who -- after repeated requests to do so -- sits down to color with my 4 year old and immediately feels the urge to get up again. As soon as I sit down, I suddenly think of something that that needs to get done. Rarely does 'whatever it is' that has come into my mind actually NEED to get done right then . . . but, for some reason, it's like -- as soon as I engage with my child -- I feel like there is something else I'd rather do. Something else I should be doing.

I'm horrible. But, agian, I can't possibly be alone.

I force myself to do it -- play with my kids, color, watch movies with them. Sometimes I time myself . . . "Sit here with them until a quarter 'til . . . then you can get up and do something else . . ." Like I'm putting my time in.

Granted, it isn't always like this. And it seems to happen more often when we are at home, with the million distractions, million other things that need doing. When we are out of the house, I tend to be much more engaged and fun with the girls. Sounds crazy, but it's true. Sometimes, I even take us places because I know they will get my undivided attention if I do. And I know these little girls deserve my undivided attention more than I seem to give it to them.

What makes me feel real shame is the fact that the girls are not even here, just hanging out, THAT much these days. Weekends don't seem to count becuase I feel like that is my approved 'Check Out' time -- Jim is around to help and play, so I'm allowed to take an extra long shower or spend too much time on Facebook. I don't feel as guilty then. And we go to preschool all week . . . dance, gymnastics, etc. . . so there isn't a whole lot of time left for me to just BE with the girls. Still, when the time presents itself, I often find there are umpteen other things I want to get done.

Maybe it's the constantly racing mind of a mom. Maybe it's the boredom of being a stay-at-home-mom. Maybe it's just the fact that I'm 32 and want to do something more with my free half-hour than play Elefun again or watch the same episode of WorldWorld one more time.

Ah, but when I do 'put my time in' -- I often end up feeling like it was so much fun, so much more than I thought it would be. I find a teaching moment, I get a funny comment, I learn something new about my girls. So, though I might sometimes be forcing myself, I will continue to make an effort to be here more with my girls.

Because Kindergarten is looming . . . and Little wants her independence more and more each day . . . and I feel the pressure of the shortness of time. I will keep putting my time in as long as these girls are here and actually want to spend time with their mommy.

Bubbles

Because everyone loves to take pictures of their kids in the bath . . . .

Last night, the girls got to 'swim' in our master bath jacuzzi tub, and the event was quite a big deal. I am one of those (mean) moms who does not let the kids bathe in my tub too often . . . I just have this fear that if I start doing it too regularly, I'll lose my bathtub to the girls. That would just be one more thing of mine that would not longer be mine, and the 'only child' in me is fairly stingy about it.

Plus, the stinkin' tub is. like, 6 feet deep, so bathing them in their is a nightmare on my back. (That's the valid excuse I tell myself for hogging my own tub, anyway.)

So nights when mommy does let the girls swim in her tub are loads of fun . . . and bubbles. Especially when we turn on the jets.

I thought I'd get the camera out for this experience . . . and naturally, after only a few pictures, Big found a way to bump her chin (no blood). Then she wanted out -- even after all the hype (and the 20 minutes it took to fill the tub!). The pics I got are mostly of Little -- but, darn it, Little deserves to be the star of the show sometimes!

Enjoy my wet babies :)