Girl Scout for a day

Like all siblings, Catie sometimes gets jealous of Lucy. She says that I pay more attention to Lucy, and that I don’t take care of her like I do with Lucy. I’ve tried to explain that any difference in how I treat them is because Lucy is younger and needs more from me – Lucy can’t open the fridge by herself like Catie can, Lucy can’t wipe her own butt like Catie can, that kind of thing – and I try to reassure her that I did all of those same things for Catie when she was 3. And also, someday when Lucy is 7, she’ll do all the stuff that Catie does now.

I don’t know how much it helps to tell her that, but lately, I’ve been trying to make sure that Catie and I get more one-on-one time. We’ll drop Lucy with my parents for a while and do something, just the two of us.

To be fair, I also try to make sure I get one-on-one time with Lucy, but since she’s so much younger, Lucy thinks that getting to go to the grocery store with me – “just me! No Catie!” – is a big huge treat. We get the cart with the attached car, she hops out to get things off the shelves for me (well, the lower shelves), and she thinks she is hot stuff as the only child. She chats my ear off through the whole store, and we have a blast. Meanwhile, Catie hates grocery shopping, so she’s more than happy to hang out on my parents’ couch and read books aloud to my dad while Lucy and I go to Food Lion.

When it’s “Catie and Mommy Time,” we do things like go roller skating (someplace I’d never take Lucy, because I’d be afraid the big kids would mow her down), or go to a Pokemon tournament, or whatever she wants to do.


One of Catie’s friends from school is involved in Girl Scouts. Back in April or May, they had a nature hike where each girl was allowed to bring along a friend. She invited Catie, and Catie loved it. She came back asking if she could join Girl Scouts.

This was so out of character for her – my cautious child who never wants to try anything new, suddenly wants to join Girl Scouts? I was so thrown off by her enthusiasm, but happy that she wanted to try it out, that I said yes, of course.

Disclaimer: I was never in the Girl Scouts. I know next to nothing about Girl Scouts, aside from the fact that they sell very delicious cookies.

The Girl Scouts’ calendar follows along with the traditional school calendar, so there was no point in signing her up in May, when they were about to end for the summer. I enrolled her for the 2014-15 year, and the first meeting was this past Monday.


In the few months since the nature hike, Catie changed her mind back and forth a couple of times about Girl Scouts. She wanted to go, then she didn’t.

Finally, I said to her, “Look, we’ll go to the first meeting, and see how it goes. If you don’t like it, we don’t have to go again. If you go a few times and then decide you don’t like it, you can stop. There’s no rule that you’re going to stuck with this for life, ok?”

Since I had given her an easy out, she agreed.


Here’s how that whole troop meeting thing went down:

The meeting started at 6:00. At 5:15, I picked up the girls from daycare. I dropped Lucy off with my parents, and Catie and I set off for a Baptist church on the far side of town, where the troop meeting was being held.

During the meeting, the troop leader talked the parents through the troop handbook, while the girls sat around a table and did some sort of “getting to know each other” exercises.

The meeting wrapped up a little after 7:30 (an hour and a half of talking about Girl Scout policies and my eyes were starting to glaze over), then we rushed back to my parents’ house. My mom had food waiting for us, and God bless her for that, because Catie and I were both starving.

By the time we got home, it was 8:30, then I had to get the kids bathed and ready for bed, and they were so hyper that it took another hour to get them settled down to sleep.

It was exhausting. And the kicker? We hadn’t even walked out of the church meeting room before Catie whispered to me, “You said that I wouldn’t have to go back if I hated it? And I hated it.”


When I was talking about Girl Scouts with the mom of Catie’s friend, she said that there was one troop meeting a month, and then you just pick and choose various events that your kid wants to attend. That sounds easy enough, right?

It turns out there are THREE troop meetings a month, and attendance is mandatory at all of them. And it’s a lot more expensive than I thought it was. And all of the fundraising sales (cookies, yes, but they also sell other stuff in the fall) require participation as well.

It was really the required troop meetings that got me. I was so overwhelmed on Monday night, and the thought of doing that kind of crazy rushed evening, 3 out of 4 Monday nights every month? I don’t think I can do that.

So, honestly, I was a little relieved when Catie said that she hated it. I mean, I get that the Girl Scouts are a good organization, and it could potentially provide her with all kinds of opportunities later in life, but I also don’t think it’s mandatory.

I emailed Catie’s troop leader with a note that basically said, “thanks, but this isn’t going to work for us.” My understanding is that our county has girls on a waitlist to join Girl Scout troops, so hopefully this will provide an opportunity for one of them, who might be a better fit for Girl Scouts than us.

Also? It means that I won’t be sitting at a folding table in front of a grocery store in February trying to sell cookies with my kid. And I’m pretty ok with that.

September 10, 2014Permalink 1 Comment

the hard and the good

I had a Twitter conversation with Gwen yesterday (who I don’t think has a blog anymore, and her Twitter account is locked, so I can’t link to her, but hi, Gwen!) about the people who I call Chronic One-Uppers. These are the people who, no matter what you’re doing with your life, they have to top it somehow. They make themselves feel superior by minimizing you.

Chronic One-Uppers exist in all facets of life – in school, at work, at the gym, in your social circles – but Chronic One-Uppers as parents? Are some of the most annoying people to be around. There are several different variations on this, from the Sanctimommy types (“you let your kids eat French fries? My children only eat raw organic vegetables that I’ve grown myself!”) to the My Child is More Advanced than Yours parents (“oh, your baby is 8 months old and not crawling yet? My baby crawled at 6 months!”), but the ones who I find the most intolerable of all are the “just wait!” parents.

(This is where I scrambled to try to find Temerity Jane’s post on this subject, but alas, Google has failed me.)

The “just wait!” parents are the people who take great delight in telling you how hard parenting will be further down the road than wherever you currently are.

It starts when you’re pregnant.
“Enjoy sleeping now! Once the baby comes, you won’t sleep again for years!”

[Side note to pregnant ladies or those who may become pregnant someday: this is a load of crap. First of all, sleep isn't a savings account that you can store up and withdraw later. Second, trying to sleep when you're hugely pregnant is miserable. You need a million pillows to support your body, and if you have to roll over, it's a whole production of moving said pillows, and also you have to get up to pee every 20 minutes. When you have a newborn, yeah, ok, babies wake you up a lot, but when you get the chance to sleep, you can sleep however you want (on your stomach! On a couch! On the FLOOR if you want to!), and you may have the option of letting your spouse take a shift to give you a break. Your spouse cannot, however, take on your giant belly and sciatic pain to let you get a good night's sleep when you're pregnant. So those "sleep while you can!" people are liars, and you should either ignore them or kick them squarely in the shin.]

Then when you have a baby.
“Just wait until you hit the terrible twos!”

Oh, your kid is now a two year-old?
“Oh, three is so much worse than two, just wait, you’ll see!”

When you have a kid in grade school?
“Just wait until they’re teenagers!”

It never ends. There’s always something.

The thing is, no matter what phase you’re in, there’s some hard stuff, sure, but there’s also good stuff.

For example, when you have a newborn? Sure, you’re exhausted and you feel like you’ve been run over by a Mack truck full of hormones, but you also have this amazing little person who’s suddenly been thrust into your life. Which is pretty fantastic in and of itself.

From my point of view: I have a 3 year-old. And it’s pretty widely acknowledged that three year-olds are terrible and difficult, and basically irrational tiny dictators. And while that’s true, I also get unsolicited hugs and “I love you, Mommy”s, which are pretty much the greatest thing in the world.

She said, "I want to lay down in your bed & snuggle with you because I'm a little bit tired." I thought she was joking. She wasn't.

The snuggles are pretty nice, too.

And when she’s not acting like a threenager, Lucy is hilarious.

She is the stereotypical second child, a total ham, and she has a way of expressing herself that keeps us laughing all the time. (At least as long as she’s happy. When it’s tantrum time, LOOK OUT.)

Lucy happy about water play day at daycare

With Catie, at seven years old? Sure, there are times she throws a bad attitude around. I know that right now she’s practicing for the tween years, and testing my boundaries and trying to see how far she can push me. But at the same time, since she’s seven, I can talk to her like a normal person, and she understands. I can take her places and she acts like a civilized person. We can go to a restaurant, just the two of us, sit and have a conversation, and eat our food together, and she’s just completely delightful to be around.

School picture day for Catie. Lucy wanted in on the action too. (Texted to me by their dad.)

Here’s where I get to my main point:

You can be in a really hard phase of parenting, and it can also be really good at the same time. These are not mutually exclusive concepts.

Just because it sucks sometimes, doesn’t mean that it isn’t also amazing and totally worth it.

Example time!

I struggle with weekday evenings. It often feels like a nightly marathon. It starts with dinner, then homework, then bathtime, then one last snack (usually fruit of some kind) before we brush teeth, read books, and settle in for the night. Combine that with trying to make sure we’re set up for the next day – packing Catie’s lunchbox, setting up the coffee pot for me – it’s exhausting and I often get stressed out and short-tempered with them.

(Credit where it’s due: I almost never do the dishes anymore, because Chris does them for me. So that’s one less thing off my “nightly marathon” plate, and I make sure that I always thank him for doing it, because I am truly grateful for the fact that he does little things like that to make my life easier.)

So, the other night, I was irritable and kind of rushing the kids through the whole bedtime routine – making sure Lucy went to the bathroom one last time, making sure Catie took her asthma medication, all the stuff on the nightly bedtime checklist.

I finally got the girls into their room, and Lucy picked out a Sandra Boynton book for me to read to her. Catie said, “Hey, Lucy, you want me to read to you instead?” Lucy said yes, so Catie climbed into bed next to her, and read to her.

Catie has taken over story time from me. I will never complain about this.

It was one of those moments that just made me so happy. I love it when they’re sweet to each other, I love that Catie is more eager to read, I love that Lucy is old enough to not freak out when we suggest changing her routine just a tiny bit (6 months ago, she would’ve screamed if Catie had gotten into her bed to read to her instead of me).

So yeah, being a parent is hard. But ignore the Chronic One-Uppers. There will always be hard phases. The good stuff balances it out, and more often than not, the good stuff significantly outweighs the hard stuff.

And I guess that’s my version of the “just wait!” thing – if you’re in a phase where parenting feels like it’s just too much and you can’t deal with it, just wait, because someday your kids are going to do something that knocks the wind right out of your chest because of how overwhelmed-with-love you are.

And ok yeah, maybe that’s cheesy. Sorry for that. But damn, if it isn’t the truth.

P.S. Thanks for the inspiration on this one, Gwen.

September 5, 2014Permalink 4 Comments

sometimes normal is outstanding

I tend to be careful in what I share about my kids as they get older. So I’ve only talked about Catie’s struggles at school superficially here and there.

The short version: she’s a really smart kid, and she does great at math, science, and pretty much any subject that doesn’t involve reading. As far as I can tell, her struggle with reading had nothing to do with any lack of ability on her part, it was that she didn’t want to try. But it was enough of a concern that during the last few months of first grade, she was working with one of the school’s “reading intervention” teachers. And we’ve also had a tutor working with her after school three days a week. (Her tutor was a senior in high school when we found her last spring; she’s now a freshman in college, but she’s still local enough that she can work with Catie in the afternoons. And I’m thankful for that, because Catie loves her and they’ve made really good progress together.)

I knew that Catie had improved in reading significantly in the past few months, but I wasn’t sure how much. I emailed her teacher because if Catie was still struggling this year, I wanted to make sure that she could get in the reading intervention teacher’s group sooner than later, so she wouldn’t fall too far behind.

The school recently gave the literacy evaluation tests that they give at the beginning, middle, and end of every school year.

Catie’s teacher emailed me back that all of Catie’s scores were in the normal range, and there’s no reason to think that she needs to work with the reading intervention teacher at all.

I had to re-read that email a few times.

All. Scores. Normal range.

I knew she had made progress, but dang. Go, Catie! I’m so proud of her, because she’s really worked hard on this and it’s paid off.


And not to keep rehashing how much I didn’t like Catie’s first grade teacher, but I remember toward the of the last school year, Dave and I met with her for a parent-teacher conference. I said that I was worried about Catie starting off second grade behind her peers in reading.

She replied, “Well, she’s going to be behind, nothing you can do about that.”

Thinking of that conversation now, I am overcome with the urge to scream at her. I want to make a copy of Catie’s test score results and show them to her, because Catie has made this much progress NO THANKS TO HER.


I know this entire post basically comes off as me bragging about my kid, but man. I’m just so stinking proud of her. I know it’s really hard for her to break out of her comfort zone and try something new, because it goes against her cautious nature, but she did it. And I’m overjoyed to see how far she’s come.

Catie drew Spyro from Skylanders (both on a TV screen & the action figure on the portal). #gamer

(She’s a pretty good artist too.)

August 28, 2014Permalink 4 Comments

Ice Bucket’ed

Like pretty much everyone else on the Internet, I’ve seen about a million of the videos where people dump a bucket of ice water on their heads to raise money for ALS. My feelings about it were largely indifferent – hey, they raised a lot of money for a really terrible disease, and that’s awesome – and that’s about as far as I thought about it. I wasn’t gung ho about it or one of the people who complained about it.

Then my cousin nominated me for it, and he mentioned that he was also making a donation to the Cystic Fibrosis Foundation in memory of our cousin Teresa, who died of CF ten years ago this month.

And dammit, if there’s one way to get me to jump on a bandwagon, it’s to bring in a cause that’s near and dear to my heart.

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I think my dad enjoyed pouring ice water on my head a little too much.

I had shown the kids a couple of ice bucket videos, but they didn’t really get what was going on. Catie was kind of upset about it (“Why are you doing this? What if someone nominates ME? Am I going to have to do it too? I don’t want ice water on my head!”), but I reassured her that it was all fine, it’s just for fun, and nobody was going to make her do it. You can see that when the water is going on my head, she’s in the back covering her ears because I was screaming.

Lucy thought it was all pretty funny. “Pop-Pop put water on you head! Dat’s so silly!” Who knows what she’ll repeat to her daycare teacher today.

Anyway, I made matching donations for both ALS and Cystic Fibrosis, and it turns out my employer matches charitable donations, so that doubles my efforts.

Temporary discomfort for a good cause? Sure, why not.

And now I can’t wait to see what my sister and brother-in-law do for their ice bucket challenge…

August 26, 2014Permalink 2 Comments

outrunning fate

I don’t remember how old my mom was when she started having back problems. I guess it started when I was a teenager, but I’m fuzzy on the details.

I remember when I was in college and she called to tell me that she’d been diagnosed with scoliosis. She said she was afraid she might end up in a wheelchair, and she cried. I vividly remember standing in the bedroom of my apartment in Memphis, and feeling completely helpless, because my mom was 200 miles away, and all I wanted was to give her a hug.

Fast-forward nearly 20 years. My mom isn’t in a wheelchair, but her scoliosis has progressed, and she’s in pretty much constant pain. She uses a back brace, her back is hunched, and she has to wear a patch that gives her a low, steady dose of constant narcotic painkillers. She sees an acupuncturist regularly, which seems to help give her some occasional relief. But it’s a pretty awful way to live.


I think I’ve mentioned here plenty of times that I was very overweight when I was young. When I was in high school, I used to go for walks at night after dinner, for exercise. (That’s the thing about Mississippi – most of the year, it’s so hot that it’s only bearable to go outside after it gets dark.) I’d usually walk 2 or 3 miles a night.

A lot of times when I went for walks, one of my parents would go with me. If it was my mom who came along, she’d complain a lot of the way that she didn’t want to go, even though she knew she needed to. She hated to exercise. (My dad never complained. He’s a golfer, walking a couple miles is nothing when you’re used to walking 18 holes.) Sometimes I’d egg my mom on to keep going, sometimes she’d take a shortcut back home rather than finish the whole route.

That’s not an indictment of my mom’s character. Plenty of people don’t enjoy exercising. I don’t think that it makes you a good or bad person one way or the other. She didn’t like to exercise, so she didn’t do it much. That’s all.

I don’t know if any of my mom’s health issues would’ve been helped if she had exercised more. Maybe if she’d had stronger core muscles, it would’ve helped to support her spine, and she wouldn’t be in as much pain now. I honestly don’t know.


My mom and I have a lot in common. If you look at pictures of her when she was younger, we look a lot alike.

1970 - My parents with Tracy
My parents in 1970 with my sister Tracy.
Side note: my mom thought she was hideously fat when this picture was taken. If there’s any question where I get my ridiculous body dysmorphia, there you go.

For the past year and a half or so, I’ve been pretty obsessive about exercise. I workout 5 days a week on average. I mostly run, although I’ll occasionally do a Jillian Michaels DVD (like the 30 Day Shred or one of those) just to mix it up and make sure I get some strength training, too.

It’s occurred to me that part of the reason exercise has become so important to me is because I’m afraid of ending up like my mom. I don’t know if I’m prone to the same health problems that she has, but I know that I absolutely do not want to end up in constant pain like she is. I don’t want to live like that.


When I started running, my goal was to be able to run a 5K (3.1 miles). I hit that goal a couple of months ago. Now I’ve shifted it, and my goal is to be able to run 5 miles before Christmas. I don’t know where I came up with that number or why it feels significant. I guess it’s because until recently, it’s not something I ever thought I’d be able to do, and now it feels attainable.

A lot of my runner friends have encouraged me to do a race of some kind. Lord knows there’s plenty of options out there: 5Ks, 10Ks, full marathons, half marathons, whatever. I understand that a lot of people use them as a timeline for achieving a specific goal, and others just think races are fun. But I don’t want to do a race. I never run with other people. I don’t even run with Chris – although that’s mainly because he runs so much faster than me, he’d leave me in the dust in the first five minutes. Hell, I don’t even like passing people on the sidewalk of my street. So the idea of running with hundreds of other people makes me nervous. The thing I like about running is being able to zone out in my own head. The only person I’m competing with out there is myself.

(For what it’s worth, running also helps tremendously with my anxiety. I’ve had days where I wake up feeling shaky and panicky for no reason other than some stupid hormonal shift. If I’m running, I feel like it’s ok that my heart feels like it’s going to pound out of my chest and that I’m gasping for breath, because oh yeah, I’m running. It burns off that whole “fight or flight” thing, and by the time I get home, I’m calmer and the panicky feeling has passed. For that alone, I cannot recommend it enough.)

I don’t know what the end goal is with all this exercising that I’m doing. I don’t have any specific weight loss goal, because I’m pretty much ok with where I am now. (Although I wouldn’t mind toning up some places. I’m looking at you, upper arm flab.) I guess when I hit that “I can run 5 miles” goal, I’ll shift it out more and figure out what’s next.

The thing is, as I find myself barreling down on my 40th birthday (which, ok, that’s still a year and a half from now), and that whole “middle age” notion creeps in, my health is becoming more and more important. I feel like I need to make myself as strong as possible now, so I’ll be prepared for whatever physical challenges my body may face in the future.

So if you ever happened to wonder why I run? That’s why.

August 25, 2014Permalink 2 Comments

mommy’s weekends

Dave and I alternate weekends with the kids. Having the free time has been nice (and every other weekend when the kids are with him? I sleep as late as I want and it is GLORIOUS), but it’s also been hard for me to adjust to not having the girls with me as much.

I try to make sure we always do something fun for them on my weekends. Two weekends ago, we went to the beach. Before that, it was 4th of July weekend and we hung out with family and went swimming.

This past Saturday night, we went to see The Little Mermaid onstage. Chris’s cousin works at the theater downtown where they were showing it, so she got us early, discounted tickets.

About to go see The Little Mermaid on stage with my girls.
Before the show. Also? Hey, 2 inches of roots. Time to get my highlights re-done, obviously.

Chris had his kids that night, so we all went together, which was a little crazy with 4 kids all going in different directions. But the kids get along really well together, and the show was just fantastic.

Oddly enough, Lucy – the child who was the most excited about going to see the show (because she is a huge fan of anything that involves princesses) – was the one who had the hardest time watching it. She was a wiggle-worm and wanted to sit on Chris’s lap, then on my lap, then back on Chris’s lap… never in her own actual seat, of course. I mean, she’s only 3. The older kids have the attention span to sit still and watch the show, at least more than she does. But she wasn’t the only kid who was squirmy and moving around a lot, so I didn’t worry about it too much. She was quiet, at least.

The show started at 7:30, and didn’t end until 10:00 p.m. It was way past the kids’ bedtimes, but we figured hey, we’re already out this late, and Krispy Kreme’s flagship store downtown was just a few blocks away…

I mean, really. If you're downtown long past bedtime anyway, you might as well.

She insisted on a pink donut. To match her dress. And her manicure.

Both Catie and Lucy fell asleep in the car on the way home. I carried Lucy in, took off her shoes, and put her in the bed, fancy tutu dress and all. Catie woke up enough to walk in the house, change out of her jeans and into her PJ shorts, then she crawled into the bed and crashed. Both kids slept until 9 the next morning, which is basically unheard of.

Well, actually, scratch that – Lucy woke up at 5 a.m. and came into my room crying, “I don’t wanna wear this!!” about her fancy dress. I guess she was confused when she woke up, poor kid. I changed her into her PJs and put her back in the bed, and she was out.

(I also stripped the beds and washed the sheets on Sunday, because the kids had been pretty filthy when they went to bed, and we were due for a laundry day anyway.)

On Sunday, we dropped Lucy with my parents for a while (getting the grandparents all to herself is pretty much Lucy’s Most Favorite Thing Ever), and Chris and I took Catie to a game store that was hosting a Pokemon tournament. She’s been into Pokemon for a while, but she doesn’t really know how to play the card game. My parents gave her some money to buy some more cards (she already had some, but not enough to make a deck that you can play the game with – don’t ask me, I don’t really get how this works). We met some really sweet kids there who were willing to play with her and help teach her the rules, and she had a blast.

Funny aside: there was a little girl there named Katie, who was maybe 11 or 12 years old. She had purple glasses, long blonde hair, braces, wearing sneakers and a Pikachu t-shirt… It just kind of hit me that this was probably my Catie’s future. Which is fine, because the girl was so sweet (albeit in the awkward pre-teen years), it just struck me that, yeah, I can totally see Catie being just like that in a few years.

Catie learned a lot about how to play the game, and later that night when we got home, Chris played a couple more practice rounds with her. He’s better at this kind of stuff than I am.

Pokemon practice. The cat is just an observer.
Even though he was playing while half-asleep on the living room floor.

Catie was excited to understand the game a little better, and she said she hopes the next time she sees Dave’s girlfriend’s kids, she can beat them at Pokemon. We’ll see, I guess.

Meanwhile, Lucy had so much fun playing at my parents’ house that she was pretty much worn out by the time we got back.

Topless napping. It's all the rage.
Poor sleepy little pumpkin.

Both kids were out for the night before their bedtime (I try to get them to bed by 8:30 or 9; last night, they were both out by 8:15). I’m going to consider that a sign of a successful weekend.

August 4, 2014Permalink

there should be Crazy Reading Time for grown-ups too

Catie started second grade yesterday. It was weird for me, because I took her to her first day of kindergarten and first grade, but this past weekend was Dave’s weekend with the kids, so he took her to school on Monday morning.

Dave and I had met up with the kids last week for “back to school” night, so we both met her teacher already. He had texted me that he packed Catie’s lunch and walked her inside to make sure she found her classroom, and that she was totally fine when he left.

But even though I knew it was all ok, I just felt uneasy and worried all morning. I didn’t get to give her a hug and a kiss and send her off on her first day of a new school year, and that felt really weird for me. File under, things I’m going to have to get used to. (There’s a lot of those.)

I picked the girls up last night, and Catie didn’t have much to say about her first day (I got the usual, “it was fine” response). I showed her some of the online tools her teacher is using this year, which is new for us – there’s an online reading log where she can add in the books she’s read, and it gives kids little incentives/rewards on the website as they progress. (She chose a dancing lizard as her avatar. Because of course she did.)

Then she said, “You know the cool thing about [her new teacher's name]?” (I’m about 99% sure she never told me that anything her first grade teacher did was cool or fun.)

It turns out that in first grade, when they had their assigned reading time, they had to sit at their desks and read quietly. Her new teacher has what he calls Crazy Reading Time – they can sit under their desks, on top of their desks, on his chair, wherever they want to go in the classroom to get comfortable and read. And you know? I’m going to call anything that gets Catie excited about reading time a HUGE win for us. So, hooray for the new teacher.

Also, one of her tutors is starting her freshman year of college, but asked if she can keep working with Catie after school a couple of days a week. Which is awesome, because Catie loved her and she really seemed to help a lot. She’s starting next week.

So, all good things there.


Last night, I had to wash the girls’ hair. (We usually wash hair every other night, give or take – sometimes they might go 2 nights if they don’t look greasy, or we might have to do it more frequently if they’ve gotten sweaty/stinky.) On hair wash nights, I bathe them separately because Catie prefers the shower, but Lucy is still scared of the shower. And really, with Catie I basically just stand there and supervise to make sure she rinses all the shampoo out, she does the rest herself. (Ways in which 7 year-olds are awesome.)

Normally during bathtime, I play music on my phone to keep them entertained. I did Lucy’s bath first, and she asked me to play the Frozen soundtrack. Which is pretty normal for us.

Then Catie came in and wanted me to play Lil’ Jon “Turn Down for What.”

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It was just kind of jarring to go from Disney princesses to rap/dance music. And struck me as funny that there’s a huge difference in those 4 1/2 years between them.


Another random music thing: we were in the car and Christina Perri’s “A Thousand Years” came on the radio.

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There’s a line in the chorus where she says, “I have loved you for a thousand years, I’ll love you for a thousand more.”

From the backseat, Catie says, “That’s two thousand years, that’s a pretty long time.”

Ok, my little nerd. Way to take a romantic metaphor and turn it into a math equation.
Catie opted for the neon green shades.


This morning, I went to give Lucy a kiss, and she wiped it off, and said, “Mommy! You have on lipstick!”

I hadn’t even gotten dressed yet, so I certainly didn’t, but I realized that it was my coffee breath that offended her. I laughed, said sorry, and kissed her again. She said, “STOP IT! I no like yucky kisses!”

Which of course led to me kissing her all over her arms and belly just to tease her and make her laugh.

It was her sister's eye doctor appointment, but she got a new pair of sunglasses anyway.

Sorry, little girl. I’m pretty much never going to stop kissing you.

(Also, very grateful that Chris never tells me that my kisses are yucky. Although I guess I do normally brush my teeth or at least pop a mint or something before I kiss him.)


Thinking of dental hygiene: I took the kids to the dentist last week, and was texting Dave afterward to fill him in on what they recommended for the girls. It ended up with me making a completely filthy “spit versus swallow” joke and I realized that we really are pretty amicable with each other now. Which is definitely a good thing.

Or it could just be that I have the sense of humor of a 12 year-old boy sometimes. Either or, really.


Ok! That’s probably enough random non-sequiturs for today, yes? Yes.

July 29, 2014Permalink