Weekend

Happy Monday! Quickly, here is our weekend update:

1)  Late Saturday night I watched some of our videos of the girls when they were 2-3 years old.  The next thing I knew, a solid hour had passed, it was after midnight, and I couldn't believe those tiny bodies, faces and voices are as big as they are today.  Videos such as this and this.  And this. 

Oh my goodness!  Where did the time go?

Note to self:  shoot more video.  And freeze time. 


2) Friday was a weather day in our school district, as a way to remember the tornado tragedies that occurred on 04-27-11.  I had scheduled a follow up appointment with my eye doctor without realizing the date and that I would have my entourage with me. We made the trip to the office with many activities in respective backpacks. Even with a 50 minute wait, everyone's behavior was really good. The only minor incident was when Lauren very, very LOUDLY commented on one of the optician's extensive tattoos.

"Momma! Look! She gots---"
[---Grabbing Lauren by the arm, spinning her to me, all the while shaking my head NO-NO-NO.] [Two fellow patrons in the waiting area supressing giggles and snickers.]

Other than that, everything worked out well, and I have a sweet pair of Ray Ban "Jackie Ohh" prescription sunglasses for summer. 

3)  Last but certainly not least, the Starburst played Saturday morning. Gracie hit two coach pitches (WOOT!), and both Lauren and Gracie played excellent defense. Importantly, no one got out. They're getting the hang of the softball business. 

How was your weekend? 

Friday's quote

 

Old Walled City of Shibam, via Fotopedia Heritage

Endurance is one of the most difficult disciplines, but it is to the one who endures that the final victory comes.

-Buddha

Spring Fling

Yesterday was "spring fling" at school, meaning that swimsuits were worn to school. The teachers, bless their hearts, had multiple pools set up, and there was a bounce house.

We also took the opportunity to ready things at home for our future water activities. During one of George's naps, we decided to assemble the water table. Gracie takes her babies for a stroll while George has a bottle and goes down for nap.

While George slept peacefully, we put the water table together in the basement. The magical newness of the table meant that no one was interested in getting in the pool.

Today everyone is home from school. After a few quick errands, we will be enjoying all water activities here at home. Have a wonderful weekend!

Jackie Ohh's

Last week I had my annual eye examination, my first in a couple of years (2 1/2, to be exact).  Since I am a daily contact lens wearer, I got the contact lens lecture (deserved) and incurred some extra expense since I had not utilized our vision benefits properly.  As often happens with the third child, I am blaming the baby. 

In addition to being able to check that aged item off of my to-do list, I was also treated to some stupendous people watching.  While I was waiting, I observed a fellow patron enter the office and conduct her business, all the while unencumbered with footwear.  In other words, this otherwise very well dressed woman sashayed into the office barefoot, as if it were the most natural thing in the world.  Quickly, I remembered the TOM's movement ("A Day Without Shoes"), but that occurred earlier in the month.  Maybe she had just gotten a pedicure?  That did not appear to be the case.  Maybe she has a young baby.  That has to be it. 

Next up was the lady who made a whirlwind entrance, carrying a note in her hand with the inventory number of the frames she was seeking.  While they attempted to assist her, I was called back, underwent several vision tests, had the eye exam (complete with aforementioned lecture), was fitted for contacts, underwent additional eye exam, was dilated, waited again for 20 minutes, completed the final exam and began the check out process.   In addition to contacts, I wanted to talk with an optician about prescription sunglasses so I went to a desk where I observed this woman trying on various frames.  First, I was shocked that she was still there.  Second, she had narrowed her final choices down to about 25-30 frames that were fanned out on the desk in front of her.  She proceeded to try on each frame.  She would stand in front of a full length mirror, walk about five feet away from the mirror and then turn quickly to check her first impression of the frames. 

"Now... are these frames all hand made?" she would ask. 

"And these are from Italy?" she would inquire. 

While my optician helped me select a few frames to try, I shifted my attention.  We settled on four pair and quickly narrowed the final choices to two.  I told her I was up for anything, although, admittedly, I have been happiest with Ray Bans.  The final two choices, therefore, included a pair of Ray Bans and a pair of Chanel frames.  I liked them equally, meaning the Chanel's, at twice the price, were out, since I did not like them enough to pay 50% more for those frames.  After selection, we began working through the insurance and order process.  All the while, the fellow shopper was still looking at frames. 


"I want a pair that makes someone walk across the room to ask me where I got them," she stated. 

That's a tall order, but her optician was working tirelessly to make that happen.  When she asked when the frames could arrive, the optician went through a lengthy process to explain that it would take three weeks to get them from Italy.  From there, it would be another two weeks to have the lenses made, for a total of five weeks.  The shopper considered, and then announced that she wanted to go to a shop she had visited prior try on her final choices there and then make a final decision.   The exhausted optician scrambled to pass her card to the shopper, took careful notes on their final choices and offered to keep the frame candidates in a tray for quick reference should the shopper care to return after her visit to the other store.

I was there approximately an hour and forty minutes. During that time, she was frame shopping for one hour, thirty minutes.While the optician repressed her urge to scream (I'm assuming), I struggled to overcome my jealousy over the expendable hours this woman has to frame shop, while I scrambled to carve out some time to get to an exam that is 1 1/2 years overdue. 

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"I'm a BOY. I do not like to shop!"

WGL Milestones

William George has his first tooth!  We have been waiting and waiting for his top front teeth to appear.  I thought we would definitely see those teeth before Christmas, as they are so visible.  We have been keeping a constant tooth check because we are secretly hopeful that once he is able to eat regular food (although, yes, it is much too early) (and our recent egg experiment was a FAIL) he will be free and clear of allergies.  You might say we are foolishly hopeful. 

Anyrate, I gave George a bath Saturday night.  Afterward, I was cleaning his gums with a wash cloth when I felt a slight snag.  Upon examination, I saw the tiniest bit of white tooth (lower right).  Well, I immediately alerted the rest of the team, and soon George was lying on the bed while we alternated taking turns feeling his tooth.  The girls loved it, and I am sure George is building up immunity from all the germs we passed his way. 

In other news, we had our regular Starbursts game Saturday morning.  Skip made an excellent point that the Starbursts should take the field with REM's "Orange Crush" blasting.  We think it would be awesome.  Back to the point, we are at the point where "outs" count.  Previously, no one was ever out and everyone scored.  Personally, I would like to live in a world where that continues, but that is not to be.  Imagine the girls' surprise when they got out.  While they were lined up to bat, I carefully explained that they can now be tagged out, that the object of the game is for them to get to first base before the ball is thrown there.  Well... Gracie did not really believe this theory.  Or, she wanted to test this theory, as is her way.  (Gracie... who spent a couple of piano practices arguing with me about where middle C is on the piano.  Gracie... who argued that she should be able to write the letters of her name in any order she chooses.)  Therefore, it should not have be surprising when Gracie refused to run to first base and was tagged out.  She simply must test these theories, and she is never happy when she is wrong. 

Gracie was a believer at our next at bat and dutifully ran to first base.  Lauren on the other hand, got distracted during her run around the bases.  She was on second and became mesmerized by something in center field and missed her prompts (coaches shouting "Run, Lauren, RUN!!!") to sprint to third.

O-u-t. 

She left the field under protest and in tears. 

Highlights, however, included very good hitting and really good defense.  They understand the concept of stopping the ball and throwing to first.  Gracie has perfected her stance and is mostly "at the ready".  Lauren played short stop and that may very well be a good fit for her since she seemed to be effortlessly scrambling here and there to get the ball. 

All in all, we had a fantastic weekend.

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Playground Attire

When we had our first experiences with the public school system last year, I scanned the (preschool) dress code, and made some mental notes about acceptable clothing for school.  Shorts are required underneath dresses and skirts, an understandable stipulation.  However, they are really young, and the monkey bars/climbing apparatus are noticeably absent on the playground.  Therefore, we continued to wear dresses, sans shorts.  Most of the time we opt for capris leggings, but that measure is mostly for warmth.  Tights are another solution, but are not popular, comfort-wise, with the girls.  Also, tights do not hold up against the playground.  Since we have had some unseasonably warm weather this spring, we have been ditching the leggings.  Subsequently, Lauren does not want to wear dresses for fear that someone will see her underpants.  I told her about Monkeybar Buddies and asked her if she would reconsider her position if she had those on underneath her sundress. 

"You get me some monkey pants?" she asked. 

I saw an advertisement for Monkeybar Buddies several months ago, and I love them!  They have shorts ($16), leggings ($24) and capris ($24) options.  Since we would have double the expense, those are priced a little high for me.  As a substitute, I have discovered Garanimals (yes, really).  They have bicycle shorts that are a perfect alternative.  With prices ranging from $2.88 - $4.88, these shorts are definitely a suitable alternative.  Target also has a knock-off version, "Playground Pants," but I have not tried these to date.  Neither alternative is available online, and therefore, these shorts are elusive, availability subject to the whims of our stores' local management.  More than once, I have searched through a stack of poorly organized Garanimals looking for additional pairs of bicycle shorts.     

We only have a few weeks remaining of school, and Lauren is determined to leave with her dignity intact.  Therefore, the search for more options continues.

UPDATED:  I have now tried the Target version, and they are, hands down, the best.  Priced at $5.00, they are well worth the extra dollars.  (Sorry, Garanimals, I was pulling for you.)

Friday's quote

 

Mosi-oa-Tunya / Victoria Falls, via Fotopedia Heritage

What treaty have the Sioux made with the white man that we have broken? Not one. What treaty have the white man ever made with us that they have kept? Not one. When I was a boy, the Sioux owned the world.  The sun rose and set on their land. They sent ten thousand men to battle. Where are the warriors today? Who slew them? Where are our lands? Who owns them? What law have I broken? Is it wrong for me to love my own? Is it wicked for me because my skin is red? Because I am a Sioux. Because I was born where my father lived. Because I would die for my people and my country

-Sitting Bull

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Pulitzers

Before I had children and when I read constantly, I would have read all of the books, fiction and non-fiction, nominated for The Pulitzer Prize prior to the nomination announcement, and I would have awaited the official prize announcement in April. Post-children, we have The Pale King, David Foster Wallace's posthumous work, sitting on a nightstand, where it remains in purchase condition, unread, and slightly dusty.

Although I knew The Pale King had been nominated (How could it not have been? The author left the transcript neatly stacked on his desk, where it would easily be found, prior to ending his life after a 20 year battle with depression.), I was oblivious to the other two nominees (Train Dreams by Denis Johnson and Swamplandia! by Karen Russell).   We have William George, and he continues to insist on eating every three hours.  Therefore, a full 24 hours elapsed before I was aware that a prize had not been awarded for fiction.  The publishing world is incensed about this turn of events, although the board has failed to assign awards, in all categories, throughout the years.  For example, no award for fiction occurred during the following years:  1917, 1920, 1941, 1946, 1954, 1957, 1964, 1971, 1974, 1977 and 2012.

The New York Times speculates that the unorthodox nature of the works gave the board pause, i.e., Wallace's The Pale King was completed after his death by his editor; Train Dreams was originally published in 2002 and repackaged in 2011.  The rebuttal is that the works should not have been accepted as nominations.  Swamplandia! should be disqualified for title alone.  Admittedly, that last statement is my opinion and not that of the NYT. 

Our household is currently too strained to give this further thought, but, when I finally am able to read The Pale King, I will strongly disagree with the board. 

Lost and Found

The Starbursts played again this past Saturday.  The girls had a fantastic time, but we had a pre-game crisis involving the clown fish socks, a critical part of their uniform.  The socks were missing, and no amount of searching could produce them.  Finally, we were shamefully reduced to wearing regular white socks to the game.  Fortunately, their "game" was not affected. 

Losing items is unacceptable to me.  Loss represents defeat, pure and simple.  Therefore, I raced about the house Saturday morning.  A quick Google search revealed that the socks could be easily replaced.  However, I remained confident that the socks would resurface over the course of the next week.  During my mental unhinging with the sock search, I had blocked out the fact that we were scheduled to have photos last night.  When we received a text reminding us of the photos, the sock defeat was new again.  I had no time to order replacement socks, obviously, and orange clown fish socks are not stocked in your average sporting goods store.  There was no alternative but to tear the house apart (again) to look for them.  I rechecked ALL sock drawers, even pausing to completely overhaul Gracie and Lauren's sock drawer.  Next, I removed every drawer from their chest, reorganizing the drawers and looking in the bottom of the cabinet for any errant items.  I checked every shelf, bin and bag.  I moved the dryer and checked behind both machines.  I checked the linen closets to make sure the socks had not been accidentally placed in those stacks. 

During this search mission, I recalled Annette Bening's role in American Beauty.  While I am not a Bening expert, I have seen a few of her movies and think her portrayal of Carolyn Burnham is clearly the pinnacle performance of her career.  Substitute "I will find those socks today" for "I will sell this house today," and you'll get a glimpse of how the sock search looked:

I finally found the socks under a stack of tutu's.  My sanity is still missing.

Last Week

Happy Monday, friends!

We are slowly getting in gear.  Last week was problematic.  We had a parent-teacher conference (a big one, involving seven members of faculty)(a good conference, by the way).  Skip traveled. We had two calls from the school nurse on two consecutive days.  There were two physician appointments for George, an unscheduled appointment for Lauren and an outpatient procedure for Skip (let's just say we will forever be a party of five).    Throughout all of that, no school days were missed. We only missed one extra-curricular activity when our unscheduled doctor's appointment encroached on our dance class.  Since our days are normally full, as outlined here and here, the appointments, eye infection and surgery sent our schedules into a tailspin.  In short, the week was challenging, and was fueled by Diet Coke and Advil. 

Please forgive the light posting while we regroup and catch up.

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Friday's quote

Astronomical Clock, via Fotopedia Heritage

We always admire the other person more after we've tried to do his job.

-William Faulkner

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Easter, Final Update

After Saturday afternoon's egg hunt, we went to church for our Easter service. Our church has three services every Sunday and, a few years ago, added a fourth service on Saturday night for Easter. We attend that service to free up space for visitors.

After church, we picked up dinner and ate a quick meal at home. During dinner, I took down Gracie and Lauren's dictation for their letter to the Easter Bunny. Then we put together a carrot snack and left everything for our visitor on the front steps. Much like Santa Claus, the girls know that the Easter Bunny will not leave baskets unless everyone is asleep when he visits. Well, we heard some bunny thumping during dinner, and Lauren almost lost it.  She wanted to race up the stairs and jump into bed. She wanted that basket! She kept telling us to hurry to bed and to be very quiet. She told George not to cry during the night! Our house would be much more quiet if Santa and the Easter Bunny worked more than one night a year.

Sunday morning, we saw that most of the carrots were gone. 

And three baskets had been delivered!

After a brief look into their own baskets, the girls were mostly concerned with George's basket. 

Although his basket was minimal, he received a water/sand table that they are excited about trying. 

While the girls squealed and waved toys around wildly, William George kept a low profile and a "took an eye" on his table.  (Gracie has combined the expressions "keep an eye" and "take a look".  Now if we are watching them, Gracie refers to it as "taking an eye" on her, as in "are you going to take an eye on me?")

Scented nail polish was a big hit. 

I shopped for Easter dresses weeks ago, and I fell in love with these green dresses by Gymboree (via eBay).  Green seemed like such a refreshing choice of color, and I had clearly forgotten about our green dresses from last year.  My eyes must be fatigued from constant exposure to pink and purple.  Even if we wore green every Easter, the change would be a nice diversion. 

We had lunch with our parents, and the girls are happiest when they are surrounded by all five grandparents.  After lunch, we had an egg hunt. 

While George watched from the porch, Lauren and Gracie scrambled to find eggs. 

The hunting started out civilized and ladylike. 

After all, there seemed to be an infinite amount of eggs. 

Both girls were sharing...

...and casually looking around for eggs. 

On the second pass through the yard, the pressure began to build.

There were fewer, picked over eggs. 

But the hunt was still good-natured. 

On the third pass, the situation became more dire. 

Eggs!

This one's mine!

EGGS!!!

After regaining perspective, they were able to locate the remaining few eggs. 

They could work as a team again. 

There were, after all, plenty of eggs to go around. 

They could finally relax and survey the prizes. 

Stickers are a big hit at our house. 

Look at the intensity.  

Stickers are like currency!

George cannot wait to be in the mix next year. 

He wants to take the egg hunting to a new level!

He simply needs to learn to walk first. 

Happy Easter!