A study in contrasts

Laura is completely terrified of Santa. See?

This is my favorite Santa picture so far, as cruel as that may be. I especially like how Will is completely oblivious to her terror, smiling away. These two could not be any more different. It's still kind of disorienting to me that they are actually two separate beings with two very distinct personalities and temperaments. Disorienting but welcome, since I don't think one family can support two Wills.

The one Will that we do have, though, has been a very busy boy here lately. We wrapped up his school year last Friday with a party at school which closed with a preschool mosh pit of sorts as his classmates serenaded us with their own personal jingle bells (and jumping!) and carols. Then we took the kids to their very first wedding on Saturday and we all survived! (It could also have something to do with the fact that my mom and aunt were with us, so we weren't flying solo.)

But backing up a bit, we took the kids on the Polar Express Sunday before last. (Happy birthday to me.) I can laugh about it a little now but at the time, our journey there was anything but laughable. The Polar Express is in Indiana, about an hour and twenty minutes from here (according to Google maps, that is) and we had a bit of a mixup about departure times and boarding times and leaving here times and it culminated in me figuring out that we were an hour away from departure and still sitting here in Cincinnati waiting on our food at Penn Station (priorities, people!). There may have been a little shouting and Will worrying in the backseat the whole drive there (on two squealing wheels, no less) that we weren't going to make it. And I have to say that I had many a vision of arriving there only to watch the train pulling away and then having to come up with some way to make it up to him because his mother has a problem with time and planning and general common sensical-ness. But we made it, with about five minutes to spare, and the kids loved it.

The kids wore pajamas, just like the kids in the book.

The story was read aloud.

Waiting to arrive at the North Pole (actually a field in the middle of nowhere decorated to look like the North Pole, complete with Santa's house).

Waiting for Santa to stop by our seat.

Notice that Laura is not in this picture.

She wouldn't even take the bell (that all the kids got, also just like in the story) from him.

But she perked up after Santa departed and she could play with her bell without the threat of Santa returning.

And then we went back to the station. The kids were looking at the full moon, which was pretty spectacular, especially out in the country with no street lights and other urban disturbances. I tried to take a picture of it but my photography skills are lacking.

Santa Claus is making his appearance after the kids are sleeping tonight and then we're headed to WV for our usual family festivities. I hope everyone enjoys lots of laughter, full bellies, and time with your nearest and dearest over the next few weeks!

We breakfasted with Santa

This picture cracks me up (or, as Will says, cracks my head right off). We continued our merry-making with Breakfast with Santa at the gym this morning. We were one of the last tables called for our turn with Santa and Laura was a little unsure of what this whole Santa bit is really about. By the time I approached him, she was clinging to me for dear life. And while it may sound totally cruel, I was secretly a little bit excited that she was doing the slightly terrified, crying, reaching-for-us pose that so many kids have in their annual Santa photos (she recovered a bit, as you can see from the picture).

Will has never, not once, for even one split second, hesitated to go sit on Santa's lap, so we have no pictures of an unhappy child on Santa's lap, which I personally think is a rite of childhood/parenthood. So I'm kind of glad that Laura appears to be supplying us with the opportunity to check this item off the list. We're still taking them to the mall in their festive Christmas outfits so keep your fingers crossed that Laura doesn't come around to hanging with Santa in the next week or so. (Does this make me cruel?)

We're spending tomorrow evening on the Polar Express. And we're spending this weekend still (STILL) trying to get over whatever this black cloud of sickness is that's been hovering over our house since Halloween or so. I'm back to thinking that contracting a lifelong cold actually is a possibility. And that wellness is some sort of mirage.

More coming soon...happy merry-making!

I'm just glad it's not November

Greetings from the other side of a straight month of illness and infection of various sorts! My own personal malaise began at the end of October and continued until sometime late last week and I've never been happier to be free from carrying tissues in every pocket, purse, and various available portable receptacle. There were a few weeks there when I actually wondered if it was possible to contract a lifelong cold. But it appears that my despair was for naught, thankfully. Will was also sick for a good bit of this period (cold/ear infection followed by not one but two (!) stomach bugs) and we made what I believe to be three (maybe four?) trips to the doctor during November for a few rounds of antibiotics. Aaaaand, to wrap all that up, Laura now has an awful runny nose after remaining relatively healthy during our marathon germfest.

So, with all the fun that December usually brings in addition to a more desirable general level of wellness and being able to function more normally, we're embracing all the new month has to offer. I've been slowly getting the house Griswold-ified (or not, since my tastes do run on the boring side of things), addressing Christmas cards, and receiving and wrapping presents (almost finished!). We've got a few fun items on the agenda for this weekend but our first chance for official merry-making occurred this past weekend as we took the kids to the zoo for the Festival of Lights.

First and foremost, let me begin with an illustration of my complete lack of common sense. Since we're zoo members, we tend to avoid weekends and other crowded times because it's so much more pleasant when it's not packed. If we do happen to go on just such a crowded day, we stay for an hour or so and head out since we don't feel the need to stay all day to make it worth our money. (The zoo is surprisingly not cheap, especially considering the $10 they charge for parking in addition to fairly pricey admission.) That said, on the days when we normally go, parking isn't an issue, we don't have to wait in line for tickets and we waltz through the "members only" line and go through the zoo at our leisure, stopping here and there to ride the train and carousel with minimal wait, if any.

In my mind, this is what I had envisioned when planning our Festival of Lights outing. When we were sitting three blocks away in standstill traffic, however, I realized my silliness. The final four blocks or so to get to overflow parking took around half an hour. When we first encountered the traffic, I told Jamison that I thought I saw red and blue flashing lights and that there was probably a wreck. Yeah, no. Everyone and their brother and great-aunt and second cousin once-removed decided to go to the Festival of Lights Saturday night at 6:00. We'd been planning on catching the 6:30 puppet show but I don't think we were even parked by 6:30.  We did make it in in time to watch the second one, though. (It was a blacklight puppet show and it was pretty nifty. Will and Laura both cracked up the whole time and as an added comedy bonus, the little boy sitting on his mom's lap next to me sneezed on another older boy who was sitting in front of him and totally grossed him out.)

To say that it was packed is an understatement of huge proportions. It was one of the most stressful situations I've been in with both kids in a long while. I was terrified that Will would let go of us and be lost in a sea of people and Laura wasn't exactly happy with being bundled up and stuffed unceremoniously into the stroller.  There were no less than four million strollers present, too. And lots and lots of people who just stopped right in the middle of the path, causing mayhem and near-collisions every few seconds. I didn't even really get to look around at the zillions of lights since I was focused on keeping our family together. Will, however, was so excited to be there and was unfazed by the crowd, for the most part. The only downside for him was that the line for the train was too long and he didn't get to ride it. I'm still not quite over just how insanely crowded it was.

But there was a nice little moment tucked in there unexpectedly, which I captured in one of three or so pictures I took all evening (phone pictures, so not of the best quality).

There was a giant lit-up Christmas tree in the middle of the pond (Will of course asked how they got it out there) and some Vince Guaraldi Trio was playing and there wasn't a crowd around and we had a nice little Zen moment amid the chaos that kind of made it worth it.

I didn't take any good(ish) pictures of Laura but here's one from last week after a Target run. We had a little Starbucks date and we actually sat at a table for a little while, which we never do, so she was so excited. The atmosphere left a bit to be desired, though, since this particular Starbucks is inside of a Meijer, which Jamison says reminds him of Kmart. And that's not exactly a good thing.

I still find her completely irresistible, Robert-Palmer-style. (Also, check out her TOMS. I also find them completely irresistible.)

And seeing as it's 9:23, my bed is looking pretty irresistible itself. Night, night. (Or "ni, ni," as Laura so sweetly says as she waves at me after I put her in bed and leave the room.)

Before the kids get up

It's 6:01 so that means one or both of the kids will be up shortly so I'm typing as fast as my little hands (and little brain) will allow. Will and Laura both have developed a cough that results from months upon months of runny noses. (And  now enter Will enters--coughing--stage left. This may be really short.) Jamison has been in Milwaukee since Monday and he won't be home until after bedtime tonight so I've not had much of a chance to write anything so far this week.

The kids, though, have been eerily good during my co-pilotless week and I have to say that it's really not been bad. (This is also where I should say that I don't know how single parents do it. But I actually do know, kind of. They do it because they have to, because there's no other choice in lots of cases.) This may sound weird but the times when I am parenting solo are somehow reassuring to me. Things are much, much easier when Jamison is around but doing it alone gives me a distinct sense of....competence, I guess. I feel more accomplished at night when the kids have had a relatively good day, we ate dinner (leftovers, but still dinner) together, everyone is clean and smelling like Burt's Bees Baby Wash (one of my favorite smells in the world) and the kids are finally asleep. That's not to say, of course, that I haven't lost my patience or wished for a nanny to drop from the sky at moments. (As a side note, if you happen to live near family or friends who can watch your kids, even for half an hour, go give them a big hug today. That's a luxury we live without, so it's a good thing we like being around each other and our kids!)

I'm lacking a good segue here, so consider this my "graceful" transition sentence. I took some pictures of the kids this past weekend cavorting in the leaves. I'll show you two of them but leave one of them a secret that may or may not show up in your mailbox sometime after Thanksgiving. (And so the loooong holiday checklist has one paltry item checked off of it...)

That's really not a "leaf pile" per se, but more like what our entire yard looks like.

She doesn't really look like herself in this picture for some reason.

And now it's 6:23 and Will's losing patience with my "writing a story" as he says. He and his Angry Bird stuffed animal are really cutting into my personal couch space. (Speaking of Angry Birds, I finally broke down and got a new phone. I've finally entered the 21st century. I also recently got my first iPod. I know,  I'm about ten years behind everyone else, but I needed some tunes for the gym.)

Also, because I apparently have aspirations of becoming a personal shopper, if you're looking for a gift of pure comfort for someone special, get them these. I got myself a pair as a little early birthday gift and I would wear them everywhere if I could finagle it. (Also, I have a thing for pajamas. These are some of my favorites that I've ever gotten, also as an early happy birthday to myself. What can I say? I guess I'm feeling indulgent this year what with all the traveling and solo momming. The bonus is that the pants also come in petites so that means less hemming. Yes, I have to hem pjs. Are you telling me that you don't?)

The countdown to Mamaw Sally's chicken and dumplings and Mamaw Jeanetta's rolls is on...T-minus six days and counting...

Greetings from the infirmary. . .again

We're still here! And we're still sick, too! Will recovered from his ear infection of week before last only to come down with a stomach bug on Saturday while we were in WV. It didn't last long, fortunately, but he's contracted another stomach bug and is going to be out of school again tomorrow. (I emailed his teacher to let her know that he won't be there tomorrow and in her response she said that Will's other teacher saw him take a drink from her water bottle--he proclaimed it not "fair" that he didn't also have a water bottle. She was out Wednesday with a stomach bug as well. So...we've still got a little bit of work to do on the whole boundaries thing, obviously.) And to continue with the sickness theme, I also have something that causes ghastly congestion and ears that feel like they're going to explode. It's really nonstop fun and excitement (with a side of germs and tissues) around here.

But somehow Laura has managed to emerge (so far--knock on wood) from the miasma of our communicable diseases mostly unscathed, except for the runny nose that she's had for the past few weeks. Which, based on recent history here, means that an ear infection's a-brewing in her little Eustachian tubes. (Those are two of the most poorly-written sentences I've ever been responsible for composing. But I'm leaving it because it's after nine and everyone knows that my mind goes rapidly downhill at this hour and I'm basically too lazy to go back and rewrite them.)

Laura with a yogurt goatee. She's big on feeding herself these days. This morning we caught her scooping yogurt straight out of the container with her hands. Who needs a spoon anyway, right? I kind of admire her resourcefulness.

This is blurry and it's not really The Look that she gives us but I think it captures a little bit of her personality. She's really the funniest baby I've been around. It's one of my very favorite things about her.

I tossed our sheets over the gate from upstairs while I was cleaning up our bedroom this morning and found little Miss Fancy Pants hanging out in them.

And then she couldn't resist lying down in them.

I don't have any pictures of Will to add because he was probably off telling us how something or other wasn't fair and that his life was basically ruined because of it. He actually told me yesterday that he wished he had a better life. I didn't know whether to laugh or give him the standard parental you-don't-know-just-how-lucky-you-are speech. So I went with the laugh (not that he saw me laughing at him, of course). The kid is either going to be a soaring, spectacular success at whatever he chooses to do or he's going to wind up behind bars. Either or. I kid. (Kind of.) In any case, he keeps things interesting around here, as do his various gastrointestinal adventures.

Hopefully everyone reading this is avoiding any gastrointestinal issues of their own...

Halloween and other things

Our pictures of trick-or-treating are particularly not great this year but I thought sharing a few blurry shots of my giraffe and cat were in order.

Traditional couch picture. We have a couch picture from every milestone/holiday. This one is not my favorite so far.

I think this one could have been good but The Headless Giraffe wasn't exactly the effect I was going for.

Laura's costume was really cute.

Giraffe on a bike. Will's costume was funny.

3/4 of our family.

This picture is depressing to me because it is ocular proof that I am rapidly aging.

Self explanatory.

This is the state of our house the day before Halloween. Scary, indeed.

This was also a scene from our weekend. We're currently archless. The one pictured here was rotting and leaning and generally unsafe. The new arch has yet to make it out of the box in the garage, though.

The pantry is one of Laura's favorite play spots, which is why the floor of it looks like a little bit like a garage sale.

I think that's it for now. We're spending the weekend in WV and I have about 76 loads of laundry to do before we leave tomorrow. Yikes!

We went to the playground...

and I took a million pictures, three of which were good. Here they are:

This is what my attempt to take a picture of the two of them usually looks like. Oh well. You win some, you lose some, I guess.

Happy weekend!

Greetings from the infirmary

We're all slightly better-rested and Will is on the mend but there's still quite a bit of this as he catches up on a fairly significant amount of lost sleep over the past week:

In fact, this is exactly what Will is doing as I type, with all of his friends smooshed on our little couch and everyone involved covered up by his down comforter which generally results in him waking up a seriously sweaty mess. He had a follow-up appointment at our pediatrician's office this morning and he still has two infected ears but there has been some improvement, so that's good news.

At least the infirmary is decorated (a tiny bit, anyway) for Halloween, though. This year I went all out (by my definition, since Halloween decor isn't exactly my idea of appealing or tasteful) since Will really enjoys holiday decorations of any size, shape or variety. In fact, I decorated while he was at school one morning a few weeks ago and his reaction when he got home made it well worth the 10 minutes it took me to pull everything out of the basement and put it into the living room. He said, and I'm quoting him directly: "This cracks my head right off!" He was laughing maniacally when he said this, so I'm assuming that having one's head cracked right off is a desirable result?

Exhibit A:  proof that I'm not a total Halloween Scrooge, not to get my holiday metaphors too mixed up.

And Exhibit B. (Please pretend that the small pumpkin on the right is pushed over about two or three inches to the left, right next to the big one. Stuff like that drives me bananas. I can't believe I didn't notice it when I was taking these pictures.) Jamison says that I'm the only person he knows who is capable of making holiday decorating boring. He's probably kind of right. My problem is that I really don't like extra stuff everywhere. I'm not really a knickknack kind of gal, which I guess is code for boring.

And in relation to absolutely nothing else, Jamison sent me a short synopsis of this with the subject line "This is NOT an Onion article." While I shouldn't have gotten a bit of a chuckle out of something so violent, I did have to laugh at the idea of biker dudes hanging out at Starbucks. I've yet to see any at ours and I'm certainly there enough. (Except for this week, as we've only been once due to Will's under-the-weather-ness. The one time we were there,  Laura's fan club  [the world's friendliest baristas] greeted her with such genuine affection and excitement that it made me feel like, even though I know I'm biased and that she's mine and no one will ever, ever, ever feel the same way about her as I do, other people are also naturally drawn to her just-right combination of pure goodness, innocence and sass.)

Happy weekend!

Two little loves

This is going to be short on words but long on pictures. Will has been sick since Sunday (really  not feeling well, which resulted in an urgent care visit this evening to reveal a "rip-roaring" [doctor's words] ear infection and a temperature of 104) and he's spent every day resting and napping, watching Netflix on the couch or in his bed. Laura has been concerned, walking over periodically to lay her sweet little head down next to Will or to pat him and smile. Or to poke him in the eye. Whichever. In any case, I got these pictures of them together today. I had to seize the opportunity, as they're not ever still and smiling at the same time. Here they are:

(I don't really want to know what they're talking about/plotting in this one.)

Laura is the only one of us who was dressed in actual clothes by noon today.

Sometimes I wish I had a pause button. Despite their tendency to sometimes swipe each others' toys or pinch or otherwise be not so nice, deep down they're really just each other's biggest fan. And what more could any parent ask for?

Laura gives people pats to help them feel better. She usually does this while she says "Oooh" because I usually say, "Oh, how sweet" while she does it. I wish I could bottle her sweetness somehow.

What did I ever do without these two?

And now it's time for bed, as I've been up since 3 (am, not pm) with Will. Not entirely sure how I'm still functioning but it's 10:20 and I've yet to collapse from sheer exhaustion somehow.

It's almost the weekend!

A decade minus one

A week ago, we celebrated our ninth anniversary. I use the term "celebrate" loosely, as this was primarily done via email while Jamison was frolicking on the beach in LA and I was at a pumpkin patch with our children. We've never been big on the anniversary festivities (or birthday festivities, for that matter) other than to say something like how crazy it is that we've been married that long, essentially the same basic conversation every year. And it is. Completely crazy and yet completely not crazy at the same time.

I'm not exactly the sentimental type and I'm certainly not one to gush over pretty much anything, ever. It's just not how I'm wired. I read what other people say and think about their significant others and it usually makes me one of two things: (1) uncomfortable or (2) highly suspicious. Uncomfortable because some declarations of affection are just a little too over the top for me, and suspicious because some declarations of affection just don't ring true or feel a bit too forced. (I tend to think that the people who have the best marriages don't feel the need to constantly broadcast the sheer awesomeness of their spouse.)

But this year, for various reasons, I feel the need to broadcast the sheer awesomeness of my spouse and the wonder that is our marriage. You hear all the time how good marriages take work, that you have to pour time and effort into yours to make it successful. For the most part, I don't agree. I actually think our marriage takes very little work. It may be because we're two relatively low-maintenance people who don't require lots and lots of discussion and feedback about our relationship and the state thereof. We just get along. Not always, but by and large, we don't put a whole lot of thought into what we're doing to make our marriage "good."

While many, many people believe wholeheartedly in the idea of fate or "soulmates," we tend to take the view that (a) we're pretty compatible and (b) we choose to stay together, day after day, year in and year out. Fate has nothing to do with it. Yes, we were born in the same small town and we are both remarkably similar in our weirdness. Among other things, we bought each other the same card unknowingly in the very beginning of our courtship (such an old-fashioned word, right?). There are lots of coincidences and events that others may believe to be something larger at work. But I think "fate" is such a passive term, like we're just letting the universe take its own course and have its way with us. Not so.

We've chosen to stick around here for nine years. We'll choose it tomorrow and again the following day. We'll choose it when we're completely exhausted, when we're angry or excited or sad or bored to tears. We'll choose it when our kids are grown and gone. We'll choose it throughout our lives together. And if one of us ever stops choosing it, well...that's a problem. But it's not fate.

What it is, though, is the confidence that comes with knowing that nine years ago I chose the right person. It's the same eagerness that's still there, all these years later, to read emails from Jamison before I read any others, just to see what he's got to say. It's socks on the bedroom floor and trash on the kitchen counter. It's NPR in the mornings and reading in bed at night. It's cursing under my breath while I close the cabinet doors or pick up any of the detritus of his day that was left lying about. It's a tiny gold band on my left hand and an empty ring finger on his left hand (as he prefers no jewelry of any sort-and it's being okay with that, too). It's a boy and a girl, a blond and a brunette, the storm and the calm, the exuberance and the sweetness. It's a marriage. It's a family. It's what we've made, what we'll continue to make for the rest of our time here. It's all I could have hoped for. And so much more.

Happy anniversary. Thanks for choosing me. I'm a lucky girl.

A couple of things

Laura was a bit under the weather last week.

She was sitting on the couch one minute and then completely pooped out on me the next. (I realize that her hair is completely out of control and sometimes she resembles a wild animal but she won't let us put anything in her hair. So no clips, rubber bands, no containment of any variety. I'm hoping she'll get past this stage soon.)

I took this the other evening from the front porch. The only thing I did to it was some minor cropping. It was pretty spectacular, so much so that Will stepped outside and declared that the sky looked like magic. And it did.

Like countless other preschoolers the nation over, we spent some time on a farm for a field trip to the pumpkin patch. This year Sister walked around all by herself (with the help of my mom, who came for the field trip and saved the day, since Jamison was out of town and I wasn't exactly looking forward to hayriding solo with two active, headstrong kids who are both able to get around with minimal help from their mother).

More pumpkin patch pictures:

It was a successful day and both of the kids loved it, despite the weather conditions being not exactly ideal. I didn't get to witness it, but my mom reports that Laura really loved the chickens. Will pretty much loved everything about it. I'm pretty sure that no one will ever accuse him of being apathetic. He's going "to gym" (as he puts it) this evening for Kids' Night In and Jamison and I are going to celebrate by spending some q.t. with Sis and enjoying the relative ease of just having one of our offspring in our care.

Finally, Wednesday marked two things: my grandmother's birthday (Happy birthday, Mamaw!) and our ninth anniversary. Yes, nine. One year short of a decade. Jamison spent it in LA, possibly playing beach volleyball. (I haven't verified if it actually occurred on this date but I know that the trip did involve a game or two.) I spent it on a hayride with our children. I had planned on posting something about this but when I had the chance to write something, I mainly wanted to go to bed. Maybe I'll get around to ruminating (in the non-bovine sense, of course) a little on our blessed union in the next day or so.

In the meantime, hopefully you'll have a chance to get out and enjoy all that fall has to offer. It's my favorite season of all. (Minus the part where we spend a million hours per weekend raking leaves.)