Ending a tough day with a little magic

When C woke up this morning she quietly, but very clearly, told me that she wasn't going back to Kindergarten. No way. No how.

I was torn. I don't like to let her quit. It was one more day. There was really no reason to give in. And yet my gut screamed to let her ditch.

My gut lost, my head won, I told her she had to go back. And then when she cried I sat on the floor with her and rocked her until her sobs subsided.

There are countless parenting books and resources, but as a mom you really only have one thing to guide you through the tough moments - your gut. There's rarely a rational thought to back up what your instincts tell you. And often it's really, really hard to listen to that instinct because so much goes against it. But you have to learn to respect it, because even if your gut sometimes overreacts, it's rarely wrong.

From day one my head has liked this school and my gut has hated it. I haven't been able to articulate what made me so uncomfortable, so we've gone forward with the registration process, but I have to say that this morning, as I sat on the floor, my big baby sobbing in my lap, begging me to not make her go back, my gut was doing one big "I told you so" dance.

And yet I made her go. Because you have to face your fears and you can't let bossy girls dictate what you will and won't do in life. As it turns out she had a great time. Came out beaming, happy, laughing. And I was glad I'd made her go, because she learned today that things don't always turn out the way you anticipate. 

But happy smile and excited chatter didn't make me love the school any more. In fact something happened right after I dropped her off that made me like it even less. I'd write about it, but I still can't see past the anger to make it coherent, and there's a slight chance that I'm overreacting and being overly emotional about what happened. So I'm leaving it alone for now. Suffice it to say that I spent the morning scrambling for other schools that we could visit. It's well past the last hour for registration, so it was no easy feat, but I'm hopeful that I've found at least one other great contender in the big Kindergarten debate.

I took my much more confident daughter out for a celebratory piece of chocolate before taking her to daycare. And tonight we capped off the whole ordeal with a magical evening at Disney on Ice. It was perfect. A rare treat. An evening out late at night with both mommy and grandma. A girl's night out of the sort they rarely get to enjoy. We came home exhausted, but happy. C was glad that her ordeal was over. I feel good that I was acting on my gut by researching different schools. Little L was just happy with her blinking fairy wings.

They are both snug in their beds and I'm headed to mine, all three of us with glitter in our hair and a lightness in our hearts that wasn't there last night.

Kindergarten verdict after a first shadow day

Back in September I started to agonize about the Kindergarten situation for C. Then M and I did a bunch of research and we visited two schools. One, a public magnet school, the other a private Montessori program. I ranted about how hard it was to pick between the two over on Silicon Valley Moms blog. (Sorry. Totally forgot to link to that.. Oops. Better late than never and all that.)

The short of it is that the public school program gave me lots of warm fuzzies, but their lack of funding and resources really worries us. Plus the parental participation requirements are astronomical and the odds of getting in are slim. The private school is small, good, has every resource that the public school doesn't, and we can get in. But I didn't get any warm fuzzies from it.

But I'm not the one going to Kindergarten. C is. Luckily the private school requires two shadow days as part of their registration process. Wisely I decided to set aside my reservations long enough to see what she thought about the place.

The first shadow day was today.

It didn't go very well.

She was very excited to go, almost bouncing her way in through the front gate. She even went off with the teacher without a backwards glance. But when I picked her up she wasn't as cheerful as I hoped.

Turns out she was teamed up with a 'partner,' a mentor of sorts, and the girl was... let's say... pushy.

As we walked back to the car C told me in a quiet voice that she was a bit nervous about going back in the morning. The girl had spent the day telling her what to do, where to go, when to do stuff. She stressed her out about how long she was taking to eat her snack, and I get the feeling that she didn't give her a lot of space to explore the classroom.

Ironic given that it's a Montessori program.

C is a ruler follower. The teacher told her to stay close to her partner so she did, even though she spotted another girl she liked much more, even though she wanted to check stuff out on her own, even though the girl was making her very uncomfortable.

While I've always sworn that I'd let my kids fight their own battles and wouldn't intervene if at all possible, as soon as I dropped her off at daycare I called the school's office and asked that she be paired up with another child tomorrow. I hate being that mom, the one who calls and complains every time a child looks at her precious baby crosseyed. I want my kids to learn how to deal with bullies, to figure out how to make a friendship work. I want them to know how to stand on their own two feet without relying on me to fight their battles.

But she has 6 hours to fall in love with this school, and three of them were less than positive. She doesn't have time to turn this relationship around. So I made the call. Tomorrow she'll have another partner.

Sadly, by the time I picked her up from daycare tonight she had decided that she didn't want to go back. Not even after I promised that she'd have a different partner. It took a while for her to explain, but she'd rather have no partner at all. She just wants to explore the place on her own, no pressures, no bossy girls telling her what to do, just a little girl finding her own footing.

I just hope I have a moment to explain that to the people at the school tomorrow and that they're willing to listen.

Wordless Wednesday: A family pizza

It's pizza night! Roll up your sleeves.

Let's chop some chicken.

Quality control. Yum.

Let's be extra careful where we put the cheese.

I'd rather be coloring.

Daddy does the heavy lifting.

While the youngest chef gets back to work.

Happy Wordless Wednesday!

A couch's value lies in the stories its stains tell

I enjoy flipping through the Pottery Barn catalog - the neat rooms, the coordinated decor, the classy grown-up looking homes. They have everything, couches that don't bear the signs of a cat, two babies, and countless dinners eaten in front of the tv, counters that aren't covered in three months worth of mail, a printer, toys, art, and god knows what else, rugs that still bear some resemblance to what they looked like the day they were first created, and even cute little knickknacks, without any nicks or nacks.

I turn the pages and think of a day when I too will have rooms that look like that in a nice white house with a picket fence and a lovingly tended yard where I'll plant perennials or whatever it is people plant in their yards.

Then I look up and I see my house with all it's clutter and well loved furniture. I picture our overgrown yard, where only flowering weeds dot the growth with spots of color. And I know that we'll never have that home and that yard. Not because of money, even if we were millionaires and lived in a mansion, it would still look much like our small home looks today.It's who we are. It's how we live.

When faced with the question "people or things," M and I pick people, hands down, every time. And when we're faced with the question "things or experiences," again things lose. Which is why we'd rather celebrate events with outings than gifts and why we'd rather play with the girls, cook fun things, go for a walk, or just enjoy each other rather than cleaning the house.

I can't fathom that I'll ever get to a place in my life where I'd give my belongings more importance than the people in my life. Things are just things, you can't take them with you. People? Memories? Emotions? Those are the things that give life its value. All the Pottery Barn catalogs in the world couldn't make me change my mind. A couch isn't worth anything until you can point to each stain and tell the story that comes with it.

This post was written in response to the {W}rite-of-Passage prompt:
"The core, ethical concepts in which you most passionately believe are the language in which you are writing." pg 103 Bird by Bird by Anne Lamott.
What is is that you believe in your core? Values, morals, etc. Write in a way that is fair and balanced but real and honest.

See below for links to other bloggers' responses to this prompt.

Home is where you shower

Every day last week I woke up, slipped on workout gear, dressed the kids, took them to daycare, then headed to the gym to work out. After getting reacquainted with muscles I had forgotten I owned and sweating buckets, I'd grab my gym bag and head to the showers.

A shower is a shower is a shower I thought. It gets you clean. Some are better than others for sure, but as long as they spit water at you long enough for you to rinse out the shampoo and conditioner, you make do.

As it turns out the shower at this gym is quite nice. It's clean, the water pressure is decent, there's plenty of space to move around, and the towels are plush, new, and plentiful. Oh, and no one bangs on the door asking if mommy is taking a shower and if she can have a peanut-butter waffle like right now please.

Sounds like heaven, right?

Turns out it wasn't. By Friday all I wanted to do was shower in my own shower, with my million bottles of shampoo, old tiles, and not new at all towels. I wanted a little face to push up against the glass door and ask me if the waffles were ready yet. Then I wanted to get out and get ready in my own bathroom, with all the stuff that bathrooms accumulate which usually drive me up the wall.

By Saturday morning I felt like I had been away from home for a week and it was exhausting. All I wanted to do was go home, which was completely irrational since I had been home all week - sleeping in my bed, eating on my couch. I just hadn't been showering at home. That was the only change in my routine.

Forget home being where you hang your hat. Turns out home is where you shower.

If I needed further convincing that this particular workout routine wasn't the one for me, now I know. Showering at home is part of what makes me feel grounded and ready to face the day. I promise never to take it for granted again.

From the Mouths of Babes: More than just paper

I've said it before, and I'm sure I'll say it again and again and again: my girls are budding artists. Their favorite activity is coloring, cutting, gluing, painting, and anything else that could possibly be construed as art.

Most mornings and evenings they can be found sitting quietly at our kitchen table surrounded by crayons, markers, scissors, scraps of paper, and who knows what else, intently focused on their various creations.

Until recently they made do with whatever paper I could put my hand on, usually notebook paper ripped out of 50c Target notebooks. But a few weeks ago we set up my new printer in the living room, giving them unlimited access to beautiful sheets of perfect paper. Priceless in their eyes.

C knows how to get the paper herself. Little L, not so much. She still has to ask for help. Which she did tonight by whining rather loudly until M took notice of her paperless quandary and took pity on her.

"Do you need a piece of paper?" He asked her nicely as though she hadn't been whining "Paaaaaaper" at the top of her lungs for the past five minutes. When she nodded frantically in response he went to get her a sheet from the printer.

He handed it to her and she got to work very fast, markers flying, little tongue stuck out in concentration. She kept mumbling something I couldn't quite make out. When she asked C for the scissors I wandered over to see what she was doing.

"Oh! I like the purple! Can you tell me about your picture?"

"It's a pizza!" She said proudly, putting down the scissors and grabbing the green marker. She started frantically dotting the page and I walked away, leaving her to her creation.

I had no idea where the idea to draw a pizza had come from her, but I was very impressed with her imagination, not to say anything of her cutting skills. And then a few minutes later it dawned on me.

She hadn't heard M ask her if she wanted a piece of paper. She had heard him say something slightly different.

And she did exactly what he asked for; she made him a pizza paper.

Little L's Pizza Paper

Trying on a new fitness craze and finding it somewhat lacking

I am the queen of starting exercise routines and letting them drop. I've taken up running a dozen times. I've tried a weight lifting routine that promised to give me Michelle Obama's arms. I routinely start ab routines. For months weeks a while back I even woke up daily to work out to Denise Austin's TV show.

Inevitably I get bored with the routine. Or I get sick and get off track. Or one of the kids gets sick and stops sleeping and all of a sudden that extra 20 minutes in bed in the morning is no longer a luxury, but a necessity. I skip a day. Skip another. The dumbbells gather dust. I misplace my sports bra. One sneaker gets stuck behind the dryer, the other is hidden by a pile of shoes. And my muscles go back to their usual soft, toneless state.

Then, months, or sometimes years, later I get tired of being winded after running around the house after the kids. I get sick of having to suck in my gut tighter and tighter to pull on my favorite jeans. I start to avert my eyes from the mirror after getting out of the shower. So I start looking for some new form of exercise to help me get back into shape.

This month I'm trying something called The Dailey Method, a mix of yoga, pilates, and barre work that aims to strengthen the core, blah, blah, blah. The details don't matter. What matters is that I paid for a month of unlimited classes and by golly I'm going to use up as many of those classes as physically possible.

I'm not in love with the classes. They don't give me the same high that yoga used to give me. But they are tough and even after three days I'm starting to feel more toned and slightly more fit. Plus, the gym has a shower, which is the only reason I was able to fit it into my insane schedule. 

So yes, even though I was barely able to roll over in bed last night, let alone lean down to grab a tissue from the box on the floor, even though every sneeze, sniffle, and cough sends my abs into agonizing spasms, and even though I am hating spending an hour watching myself huff and puff in the floor length mirror that covers an entire wall of the room we exercise in, I have gone every day this week so far and my goal is to go again every day possible until my unlimited plan runs out.

I'm pig headed that way.

I don't doubt that something at some point this month will happen to make me rue my goal. I'm sure that some mornings I'm not going to want to jump out of bed, pull on my work out clothes, dress the kids, pack clothes for myself, prepare a breakfast I can take with me, hustle the kids to daycare, and go work out for an hour. But I'm hoping that I'll have it in me to either push myself past that reluctance or at the very least get up the next day and try again.

And when my trial month is up I'm hoping that I'll have it in me to move on to the next thing without taking a long hiatus.

My goal after this is to attempt Couch to 5k and maybe get back to going to yoga once a week. Because of all those exercise routines, classes, and everything else I've ever taken up on my quest for relative health and fitness, there's no doubt that running and yoga have always been my favorite and most fulfilling ventures. They make me happy. Which is much more than I can say for Denise Austin, early morning ab crunches, or this latest fitness craze.

Wordless Wednesday: First nightgown

My very first nightgown!

Perfect for dancing.

 

And twirling.

 

Especially for Heads, shoulders...

  

knees... and toes!

  

Oh. And for doing what they taught you at daycare.

"Mardi Gras!"

  

Aren't they sweet?

 

Happy Wordless Wednesday!

Internal Validation trumps External Validation any day

Last weekend M and I dropped the girls off at my inlaws and headed to C's preschool for her parent/teacher conference.The beginning of the conference went exactly as we expected; C is a lovely sweet girl, etc, etc. But at the end, the teacher paused a bit and asked "Does she... does she look to you to tell her when she's done something well?"

M and I looked at each other and just nodded, because, duh, she's 4 and she's her father's mini twin, so of course she craves external validation. Really, who among us doesn't? We encourage her and praise her when she tries something new and when she does something well. It's how we hope to foster her self confidence. But somewhere along the way she has started relying on that praise as a way to know when she had done well, instead of just using it as encouragement.

Oops.

It's a parenting conundrum, you want to raise self confident children so you praise them and encourage them, but you also want to raise self reliant children, so you have to temper that praise.

The teacher suggested that when C comes to us to ask us if we like something we turn the question back on her. I've started actively doing that and so far the results are amazing. Instead of scribbling something fast and holding it up for praise, she's working harder and creating more intricate pictures. And when she asks me if I love it, I honestly can tell her that I do, before asking her what she likes best about it, or if she's proud of it herself.

This morning I tested out a new exercise class. I sweated and grunted and as my muscles shook under the strain of movements I haven't attempted in years, I thought "I sure hope the teacher is impressed with how hard I'm working!" And then I stopped myself. Did I really care what a woman in spandex who I had met literally 40 minutes before thought? Didn't it matter more that I be proud of how hard I was working?

Maybe I needed to take a lesson from the preschool teacher's recommendation too. 

I checked in with myself and realized that, no, I wouldn't be proud. I knew I wasn't giving 100%, maybe just 90%, and when I left I probably wouldn't be all that please with myself. So I stepped it up. I pushed myself harder at the end of that class and when I left I felt good about my workout. And I was able to say goodbye to the teacher without needing her pat on the back.


Exercise isn't the only area where I can apply that lesson. When it comes to my book, a part of the lure of sending out query letters is feedback. I'd know if the book is any good. I'd know where it needs work. Because with any luck it would be good enough for agents to give me constructive feedback that would help me make it really great.

But sending out query letters with that goal in mind could also radically backfire. If someone liked my query and sample chapters enough to ask for a full, and if they liked that full enough to ask to represent me, I would be in trouble. Because even though the book is good enough today, I know it's not as good as I can make it. And I want to be proud because I know it's good, not because someone else thinks it's good enough. I want to ask myself if I'm proud of what I did and be able to answer yes without a shadow of a doubt.

And truth is, I'm just not there yet.

Just want to be done itis

Every morning I drop the girls off at daycare and head to my favorite Starbucks and sit at whatever table I can find. I crack open my computer and get to work. I check my email. I write whatever articles or blog posts are pending. And then I turn my attention to my book.

For a while the edits were going great. I'd open up the file and dive in, adding details where details were sparse, tightening up text where it rambled, fixing things that just didn't work. It was fun.

For the first 60 or so pages.

Now I just want to be done. Or rather I want to be writing.

I'm so far from the time when I was actively writing the book, thinking about plotlines, worrying about characters and situations, and I miss the rush that I got from it.

All this editing just feels like homework and it's not nearly as fun.

I'm caught in a catch-22. If I were motivated, the edits would be going faster, but I'm not, so I'm dragging my feet and they are taking forever, which is killing what little motivation I have.

I think that I might attempt to work on my query letter this week, both as an incentive to get the edits done, and as a way to catch some serious holes in the story. And I'll be writing again, which I know is going to help me get all motivated about this story again.

And I really need to, because I so want to be done with this book so I can get on to the next one.

The chocolate fix - no bake oatmeal chocolate cookies

One of my very oldest friends (Oldest as in I've known her for a long, long time. Not oldest as in she's older than all the others. Even though Little L does refer to her as Very Old.), Alex, is a fantastic baker. Back when we were teens in Paris she often made me her famous Oatmeal Chocolate Chip cookies. I loved those cookies. When she left to go back to the States, taking that recipe with her, I mourned.

It was like loosing my best friend. And her cookie recipe.

OK. Fine. It was more than just like loosing a best friend. And I missed her way more than I missed the cookies.

But I did think about the cookies a lot.

Years and years later Alex and I are still good friends even though she lives way far away on the other side of the country.

She recently came to visit for a few days, bringing with her a pocket full of recipe cards and her serious cooking mojo. She baked and cooked for us and now that she's gone we still talk about the amazing meals she made for us. Especially her pesto. And awesome cookies.

Yes, because she did it again. She made me cookies that I can't stop thinking about.

No bake, oatmeal chocolate chip cookies. (It's a theme.) She made a huge batch before she left. And even though I seriously thought about bringing them to work to share with my coworkers, I couldn't bring myself to part with them. Instead I savored those cookies. Eating just one a night until they finally ran out. The night I couldn't have my post dinner no bake cookie was a sad one indeed.

There may have been serious moaning and whining on Twitter.

Lucky for me, I'm smarter now than I was when I was 16 and I actually emailed her for the recipe. (I know! Brilliant!) And because I'm nice like that I'm going to share it with you. Because these things are the perfect solution for that 9pm chocolate craving. Think delectable fudge with oatmeal. All ready in less than 20 minutes.

You're welcome.

(Also, Alex, I miss you for way more than your cookies. You know that. Right? But thank you for sending me the recipe!)

Alex's Infamous No Bake Oatmeal Chocolate Cookies

1 stick butter
1/2 C. Milk
2 C. Sugar
1 C. Semi Sweet Chocolate Chips
3 C. Oatmeal (not quick oats)
1 tsp Vanilla extract

1) Melt and boil butter, milk, sugar for 1 minute.
2) Pour hot mixture over the rest of the ingredients. Stir.
3) Shape cookies into cookie shapes and let cool.
4) Enjoy.

Mmmmmm.

In love with Mompreneurs

As one of my responsibilities at the paper I had to write a monthly column. Way back when I started the topic was left up to me. At a complete loss for inspiration I came up with the only idea that seemed feasible long term. I decided I'd do a column featuring local mompreneurs.

We're in Silicon Valley. Mom entrepreneurs are not hard to find out here. I figured I'd easily be able to find someone to interview every month. Even better, interviews make for relatively simple articles to write. A win win situation in my opinion.

Little did I know that I had stumbled onto something that would quickly become my favorite part of the job.

Every month I find myself thrilled to be interviewing a new mompreneur. So far I've talked to moms who have created all sorts of businesses - a nanny service for kids with special needs, an indoor birthday party venue, a hand painted decoration tile company - and each conversation has been fun. It hasn't felt like work. It's just felt like I was meeting new friends.


I'm no longer managing the paper, but I have held on to my column, because the sheer thought of giving it up made me sad. What can I say? Interviewing moms who have created their own business is one of the highlights of my month.

Each of these women has one thing in common: passion for the business they've created from the ground up. It comes through loud and clear over the phone. They're tired because they pour all their time into their business, but they're excited and happy. It's contagious.

I start each call with a simple prompt. "Tell me your story." And as they do I get pulled in. Before the end of the story I'm hooked. I brainstorm ideas, offer commiseration and congratulations, and by the time I've hung up I feel invested in their success. Even better, I'm high on the knowledge that against all odds people can build their dreams out of nothing.

Wordless Wednesday: It's a big ocean

And it's a long, long way down.

Happy Wordless Wednesday.

California Snow Day: A rip roaring success

I showed up right on time for my snow day yard duties and dashed back out to the car to grab my camera. I had expected something neat, but what greeted me was cooler than I anticipated. An entire play yard covered in snow. The sun shining overhead. And a group of parents, waiting to make the afternoon magical.

The kids all traipsed out, a motley crew in an assortment of winter wear - from the fully kitted out in snow gear to the ones, like C, outfitted in whatever their parents could piece together at the last minute. The joy on their faces was the same though. Sheer delight and instant recognition.

"Snow!" Some whispered, while the rest just dove in.

Snow angels, snow balls, and non stop sledding filled the 25 minutes each class was allotted. I stood at the top of the sled run, helping kids climb into sled after sled after sled. Their smiles and shrieks of delight eased the increasing kinks in my back.

A great time was had by all and the two hours I worked in the yard passed in a flash. I highly doubt that the soreness in my muscles will ease quite as fast. When I woke up this morning I didn't exactly expect to be shoveling show and pushing kids down sled runs for two hours.

I'll let you know tomorrow if it was worth it.

A different kind of snow day

I found the gloves in the deep recesses of one of the suitcases we took to Ohio. The hat was shoved under a pile of outgrown clothes in the corner of the kids' room. And I'm hoping that her snow jacket is somewhere in my car.

Tomorrow C has a snow day. Oh, not like the snow day that countless kids in the North East are having tomorrow. No, we do snow days differently out here. We don't have to shovel the drive, salt the roads, or plan countless indoor activities for home bound kids.

Instead, on snow day we go to school and play in the snow.

That's right. Tomorrow C's preschool is bringing in snow for the kids to play in. For a glorious couple of hours they'll get to roll around in the snow making snow angels, have snowball fights, and build snow men. Once they've had their fill of playing in the snow, they'll go back to class to get changed into warm dry clothes and have hot cocoa with mini marshmallows. Because you can't have a snow day without hot cocoa.

Then I'll pick her up and take her home. And I'll let the snow clothes get lost once again. Because really? We're not going to need them again until next December when we head East for Christmas.

You have to love living in California sometimes.

Cirque du Soleil - Ovo - A circus and bugs of a different genre

Thanks to the wonderful people at the Cirque du Soleil and Silicon Valley Moms blog M and I were given the wonderful treat of attending the opening night of the new show Ovo. Opening night in San Jose that is, not first opening night ever.

It was our first "real" Cirque experience. We saw Wintuk, a small family show that they put on a few winters ago in Madison Square Gardens, but this was a whole new experience.

Once we got past the whole 'walk 8 blocks in the pouring rain' thing (reminding myself that at least we're not on snowpocalypse watch like our friends in the North East) and got into the tent we were instantly transported into a wild new world.

Crickets chirped and crazy creatures slinked around, everything hazy in the fog that filled the room. We found our seats and chatted a bit with the other SV Moms bloggers in attendance and then the lights dimmed and we were swallowed up in the magic.

I was blown away by the way they have reinvented the circus environment, elevating it to something even more magical and special, and yes, even more grown-up than a regular circus.They have clowns and they have traditional acts, they just spin it into something new with different props, sets, and lights. And yes, to M's amazement, even with a live band and singer.

We could have brought the girls, but it was a late show so we left them with a sitter. As it turns out, they would have loved it, but it was neat to be there without them. The tent was packed with grown-ups who were just as enthralled as we were.

Little ladybugs juggled with their feet, eliciting awed "no ways" from M. Creepy grasshoppers performed a gravity defying trampoline act that had me wondering if I was seeing things. Disturbingly supple spider contortionists did things that no human should ever be able to do, and that made my knees and back ache just to watch.

All in all, it was just breath taking and amazing. A really fun night out.

If Ovo comes to your town I highly recommend that you attend. And if you live in the Bay Area, hop on over here to try to win some tickets for Valentine's Day!


Please note: I was given tickets to attend the Cirque du Soleil show, but the opinions contained in this post are mine and mine alone. Hyperboles are courtesy of the cough syrup I took 13hours ago and which is still messing with my brain.

Finding peace

On Monday I officially handed off one of my many jobs to the person who was taking over. A friend actually, who needed the work and was perfect for the job. So that turned out just perfectly. I called in on to one last editorial meeting and heaved a sigh of relief when I hung up.

As much as I loved that job it came with a bucket of stress that I just couldn't handle any more. More stress than I had ever realized. Because let me tell you, after I hung up that phone the stress was gone and I felt light as a feather.

I've felt like that ever since.

It's been a great week. I haven't gotten any sleep because of the Prednisone. I've been nursing a cold. I've had a ton of work to do. But it's still been a great week. I've felt in control and on top of the world. I've been busy, but I haven't felt overwhelmed and frazzled. It has been bliss.

Knowing my inability to pace myself I'm sure that I'll be over scheduled and over taxed again in no time. But for now? this peace? It's lovely and I'm loving it.

Wordless Wednesday: A first dental visit

What's that?

You're going to do what with it?

Oh. That's not so bad I guess.

What are you talking about? 

This place is awesome.

Oh yeah! You're right. This is great!

Happy Wordless Wednesday!

Love in the kitchen and everywhere

"Are you kissing again?" C whines from the table as M grabs me around the waist and hugs me tight, planting a tender kiss on my lips. I peer around his head at her and wink.

"Yup, we're kissing again. And we're going to do it again and again!" I tease. C pretends to gag and Little L echoes while M and I kiss again.

This is a common occurrence in our kitchen. In fact it happens daily. The kissing and hugging at least, not always the gagging. That just depends on the mood of the peanut gallery.

I'm a strong believer in kissing, hugging, holding hands in front of my children. Nothing lewd or inappropriate. Just tenderness and love really. There's no doubt in my mind that it's up to us to model what a loving functional relationship should look like.

I would love for them to head into life knowing that when people love each other they don't just treat each other with respect, listening when the other talks, speaking nicely to each other, and doing kind things for each other, but that they also take time to really show each other that affection through kisses, hugs, and tender gestures of love. Every day. Not just for special occasions.

So M and I don't hide behind closed doors to hug and kiss. We hold hands in public and in the car. And we actually talk in front of our children. It might not seem like much, but it's not something I saw often growing up. Not in my home or my friend's homes. And really, I wish I had. Maybe I would have more easily recognized how emotionally abusive my first boyfriend turned out to be. 

Come Valentine's Day I can guarantee that there won't be cards, chocolates, flowers, or even a fancy dinner in a swanky restaurant. There will just be more love, more kisses, more hugs, and more every day tenderness, for me, for M, and for both girls. When you get love every day you don't need a special holiday to celebrate it.