Blue Skies and Green Fields

We always start off with good intent.

"Let's do something new this weekend! My friend does equestrian stuff, let's take the girls to go watch," Matt said.

The day was beautiful, the weather perfect.

What we fell a little short on though was behavior. Oh my goodness are we going through a phase. And apparently, horses don't like phases. Who knew? I thought we would be outside in a big grassy field with lots of sunshine and fresh air and space for the girls to exhaust themselves.

The folks who participate in these things though had other ideas. No loud noises, no sudden moves, nothing that might spook a tense horse and its owner...... Which, in hindsight makes sense, but at the time. Ugh. It was not quite the day we'd had in mind.

On the other hand, now we an say that we've been.
And in a few more years, it would be a lovely afternoon. 

Except for when the girls start asking about horse back riding lessons.

Two

Clare-

You are a perfect combination of storm clouds and sunshine. I guess, by default, that makes you my rainbow, huh?

And you are two today.

When you were born, I was so afraid for your ability to thrive. You showed me though. You've blossomed and grown like a wild vine, weaving a path of your own choosing. Your eyes sparkle with laughter and mischief, your voice sounds with clarity and force. You leap blindly and fearlessly into adventure. You twirl uninhibited, stretching your limbs into service for your own joy and our amusement.

Happy Birthday my Love. I can't wait to watch you grow, making your colors as vivid as your personality.

Love,
Mama

Artistic Liberties

Yesterday, Gracie wanted to go outside for a walk.

Matt obliged.

She wanted to race him, which constitutes running between our driveway and the neighbors.

Matt obliged.

She got tired, and wanted Matt to carry her while they raced.

Matt obliged.

(And Grace somehow kept ‘winning’ the races.)

Matt got tired of running while carrying a 30lb child and Gracie wanted to draw on the driveway in chalk.

Matt obliged.

Grace wanted to be drawn on the ground.

Matt obliged.

She then wanted me to draw Matt, while she worked on the detail work.

Matt obliged.

And was very happy with the results.

One of These Things

You know the song:

One of these things is not like the others;

One of these things just doesn't belong...

That is totally what my first thought was after I got over the willies of seeing a new wall display of clowns crafted by Gracie's daycare class.

Look at the picture. They are all basically the same except for one. All but one have smiles on their faces. One clown is a sad clown.

Guess who's daughter made the sad clown? Yep. Right here.

Her teacher said Gracie was very upset that she didn't get the mouth right, that hers was different. I tend to think it is her way of telling me that she doesn't like clowns either, without having to put me through the trauma of seeing one in person.

Choices

My days have been moving at the speed of light. My nights have turned to molasses.

Gracie is sick. Again.

She is breathing shallow and sounds like Darth Vader. Yesterday we fought this with an abundance of hot chocolate and she seemed better. Last night, she slept in 45 minute increments and sounded like she had a marble lodged into her airway. I slept, but only on the brink with an eye half open and both ears on alert. Normally I am not one to worry, but the rasping…

Today we are back to the speed of light again. I have a 9am meeting, where I am the meeting, followed by a full day of pokes and prods and a belly full of goo at John’s Hopkins to check on V2. I cannot miss it. Matt has some similar meeting at 10:30am. He cannot miss it.

So we sent our child to school. A little less raspy, but sporting a low grade fever. I feel horrible about it and am calling to get an afternoon sick appointment with Dr. H today.

She, on the other hand, seems absolutely fine with the arrangement. You see, she knows the game and finagled a bribe of 2 gummy bear vitamins, an M&M, part of my bagel and 4 mini pancakes all in exchange for taking a does of Tylenol.

Come to think of it, I think her bargaining attitude puts her well enough to attend school today.

Dreams

I like plans. I can’t help it. I’ll say it again. I like plans.

NOTHING in Williamsburg went to plan.

We headed toward Virginia Saturday morning. As all true planners do, we had been following the weather and knew there was a chance of snow. Chance. They said chance.

When we got into our car at 8am, it had just barely begun to flurry. By the time we reached the DC beltway, it was snowing. In Northern Virginia we could barely see the roads. The farther south we went, the snow turned into rain. Past Richmond, we were safely in the rain.

The rain did not stop though. At 40 degrees, it is not cold enough to snow, but it is sure cold enough to keep sane people from bringing their 2 year old out into those temperatures with pelting raindrops.

So the weather foiled our Saturday night plans. We were going to go to Busch Gardens to see their Christmas Wonderland. We had told Gracie all about it. There will be Christmas lights all over! and hot chocolate! and carolers singing! and a choo choo train! and *guess what?* penguins!

And then it rained cold pelting drops.

So penguins were forgone and the hotel pool was adopted instead. Except she didn’t forget our magical stories of trains and penguins. She kept asking about them. All throughout our Sunday morning trip to Jamestown with its Indian Village corn grinding, Settlers Village armor wearing and cafeteria ketchup eating, she asked about the penguins.

And it became clear what must be done. Matt’s dream of seeing the Williamsburg Illumination would have to be put on hold in lieu of 2 year old dreams of choo choo’s and penguins.

You know what though, it was worth it

.

Terribles

It has been over 10 days since I last posted. For this I apologize. There have been many stories and moments worthy of note. I start writing the post in my head with little sticky notes on my memory and then .... nothing.

Nothing.

I am tired. I am now 16 weeks pregnant and not getting the 12 hours of sleep a day my body is demanding. So there is nothing. I instead have been choosing to live in the moments and forget them as soon as possible. Sure, they would make great vignettes of our lives and funny to the outsider and even to us in the future, but right now the stories are: terrible.

We have hit the terribles. I always assumed that stories of the dreaded terrible two's were exaggerations or examples of why Matt and I were in fact good parents, because the terribles weren't happening to us.

Sure, that is a little arrogant; especially given that Gracie is only 2 years and 1 month old now. But she's always been relatively mellow. Below the curve in emotional melt downs and above the curve in rational thought.

But now: SHE IS TWO. TWO DAMMIT. AND WE AREN'T GOING TO TAKE THAT AWAY FROM HER!
(At least that is what I imagine she is screaming in her head during the temper tantrums.)

Oh, and the temper tantrums!
~They are because she wants to get dressed, but how dare you take off my pajamas!
~They are because she took off her own pajamas, but how dare you put clothes on me!
~They are because she pooped, but how dare you change my diaper!
~They are because she is hungry, but how dare you put food in front of me!
~They are because she is exhausted from all the tantrums, but how dare you expect me to take a nap!

What is the point of this post again? Oh yeah, I'm tired. Matt is tired. There were way more tears this weekend than smiles. And I will try to get back to capturing the tears for future enjoyment.