Navigating the hilly terrain of motherhood
Today was a day of sobbing, whining and general misery. The kind of day that I thought (and still fear) might never end. Poor Grace has a very sore throat and a temperature of 103 degrees. Sweet little Tess, sensing that something was amiss, felt the need to compete for my attention. I love them both dearly, but for this day, I think I’ve given all that I can give. Now I am ready to cover my eyes and hope for a better day tomorrow.
Okay, so maybe it wasn’t really poetry in motion. It was more like, "Look at me! I can watch myself in the mirror while I jump and spin around! I feel pretty, oh so pretty!" In any case, Grace’s first ‘dance recital’ was very cute.
That’s Grace’s friend Violet right next to her in the photos. Dance class, like most things, is much more fun with a friend!
I hate the men in suits who came up with the idea of daylight savings time. What decent human being would knowingly inflict the torture of a time change on a family with children? Clearly these men did not have kids of their own, or at least they had saintly wives who got up with their kids every morning at sunrise and never complained. Well, I’m complaining. Despite our best efforts to prepare them for having their internal clocks rocked, our girls have been getting up one hour earlier. To me and Adam, 6am is very different than 7am. Especially after we have been entertaining, and chasing, two young children all day and are exhausted. This also means that our girls are operating on one less hour of sleep each day, which is a big problem for them (and therefore, for us too). Grace was hysterically crying for no apparent reason for most of this morning. I started to tell her that if she didn’t snap out of it, she couldn’t go to school. And then I realized that she had to go to school – what would I do with her all morning in that condition? She seemed to survive school okay, but woke up early, and very unhappy, from her nap. And now she has a fever. Great. And to think we get to go through all of this again tomorrow, starting at the oh-so-fun hour of 6am. I curse you, you cruel, ignorant men in suits! Just look at what you’ve done to them:
We like living in the woods for many reasons, one of the main ones being the opportunities for wildlife viewing. We have quite a few birds and squirrels, the occasional deer, and turkeys. Last year we saw one turkey several times, lounging around the birdfeeders. This year, we are getting big groups (a gaggle? a warren?) of them. This is probably because we have added a new birdfeeder with black oil sunflower seeds and word has spread around turkey nation. Maggie is distressed by these visitors to our yard – she has long given up on being bothered by birds and squirrels – and feels the need to protect her domain. Today I let her out while some turkeys were visiting (this was not on purpose – I really don’t like scaring them), and sweet Maggie ran the fastest I have ever seen her move. I think she may have hit her all-time high of five miles per hour! The turkeys were back about an hour later. I guess they don’t feel threatened. I mean, how scared can you be of a dog that bears such a striking resemblance to a three-year old in a puppy costume?
Grace had her first real trick-or-treating experience last night. OK, so maybe it wasn’t that "real" – we visited all of the merchants along Main Street in Freeport. But it was safe, and fun, and certainly preferable to parading down our own dark, long, rural road. We were invited to do this with Grace’s best friend Elyse (Dora the Explorer), so of course, it was extra great. The girls were shy at first, but once they realized what trick-or-treating was all about, they really got into it. They were commended by the shopkeepers for their enthusiastic shouts of "trick or treat!" and their very sincere "thank you!" And we parents got a big kick out of the girls’ comments to each other: "I love Halloween!", "This is so fun!", and "My bag’s getting really heavy!" Little Tess was also along for the ride, and preferred to stay in the comfort, and safety, of my arms. She would occasionally reach out for a treat, which she would then clutch to her chest as if it were the greatest treasure ever. And when she was offered another goody, she would take it, and then would try to hand the candy-giver her previous treat. This, of course, was adorable – as if the little cat ears weren’t enough!
Every day when I put Tess down for her nap, I leave Gracie alone downstairs. She usually reads a book or finds a good hiding place (she’ll do anything to avoid her own nap). This has been working well for several weeks now, and Gracie has wowed me with her ability to be quiet and good for five whole minutes. Until today. When I came downstairs, Gracie was innocently cutting up the tiny fleece blanket that resides in her doll house. OK, I thought, no harm done. And then I saw the hair. Gracie’s hair. In fragments on the couch.
"Grace, who’s hair is that?"
"It’s Maggie’s." (She is such a bad liar.)
I proceeded to launch into a detailed explanation as to why it is unacceptable to cut one’s own hair. I pay Meg good money to cut your hair, I explained, because she has been fully trained in the art of hairstyling. And she has real haircutting scissors and a cape and a big mirror. And if you cut your own hair, you could hurt yourself, or even worse, your hair could end up looking really funny. Grace responded by rolling around on the floor, cackling about how hilarious she is (she gets this from her father). I confiscated the scissors and she ran into the bathroom to look in the mirror. "I look good!" she exclaimed. Thank goodness her Halloween costume has a hood.
I remember the first time Gracie played with clay. She was two years old, and we were at our first toddler art class. The teacher gave each child play-doh and cookie cutters, and all of the other kids grabbed the clay and started to create masterpieces – but Gracie had never even seen the stuff before. I felt like a terrible mother – and I’m sure that someday she will struggle in sculpture class all because I didn’t let her play with clay before the age of two! Well, that won’t happen to our little Tess. Today, at the tender age of seventeen months, she played with clay for the first time. She was much more interested in the tiny containers than the clay itself – she likes to take the lid off, blow in it, and put the lid back on. And she likes to carry the colorful little containers around. But the best part of this afternoon’s activity was that both girls sat together at their art table and played – for an hour. And Grace shared her clay willingly, and even showed her sister how to press the clay flat to cut a shape out of it, and how to make a worm. A very colorful, spotted worm. The best worm ever. I guess she’s not scarred for life after all.
Adam and his dad in their seats, and Curt Schilling’s first pitch (Game 2, 10/25/07)
Father and son at Fenway Park – for the World Series. A once-in-a-lifetime experience. It doesn’t get much better than that – especially since the Sox swept the Series! Go Sox!
Of course, our girls better grow up as Red Sox fans – and hopefully they’ll know more about baseball than their mother. Gracie seems to be well on her way to becoming a sports fan – she was very excited about Daddy going to the "World Serious." And Tess just really likes her hat.
A puppy and a baby leopard. So sweet. I thank my lucky stars that I have managed to avoid a princess-themed costume for one more year (those tomboy genes sure come in handy!). I am also thankful that Gracie has forgotten that for several months prior to October, she insisted that she was going to be an otter for Halloween. (An otter? I don’t think you can buy that costume at Target!)
Last night I took the girls to our first annual community Halloween party. Grace and a friend made spooky paper-napkin ghosts, decorated treat bags, played ‘pin the nose on the jack-o-lantern,’ and stuck their hands in ‘yucky stuff’ (like bowls of rubber spiders and cooked spaghetti), while Tess clutched a cookie and tried to figure out what in the heck was going on. At least I didn’t make her wear a sparkly dress – that would have really given her a complex!
We live less than five miles away from Bradbury Mountain State Park, but we just visited it for the very first time this past Sunday. What a shame! Needless to say, we’ll be heading there again very soon. There are several easy trails up and down the mountain. Gracie made it both ways on her own, and Tess enjoyed the ride in the backpack. The view from the top is stunning, especially this time of year!
Travelingjenny 
