Lemonade

My days have been jam-packed with phone calls to doctors, discussions of casting and surgery and physical therapy and all sorts of topics to fix Grace's foot. There have been many moments of great anxiety, progress, tears, relief. But through it all Grace is wonderfully, blissfully ignorant.

And recently, on an unbearably hot summer day, my resilient and resourceful girl didn't need a big fancy pool to cool down. She turned a little plastic basin full of water into hours of afternoon fun. She truly knows how to make lemonade out of a bunch of lemons.

How many times do we learn lessons from our kids?
I love this picture.

Laugh Lines for the Week

Despite all of the heavy stuff going on in our lives lately, we sure do laugh a lot ...

- My mom is a born Sunday School teacher. She sees every situation, every moment as a lesson about God. Recently she asked Grace, "Look out the window. Do you know who made the beautiful clouds?"

"Yeah," she said with a sigh, as if somewhat bored by this line of questioning, since she so clearly knew the answer:

"Aidan."

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Yesterday was a big, busy day for Aidan. We spent part of the morning with my friend Jacie and her kids, riding bikes (the kids, while we tried to cheer them on) and playing on a local playground. Aidan stayed there for lunch, while Grace and I went back home, and in the afternoon Aidan spent more time with them swimming in their neighbor's pool. He came home closet to 5:00 p.m. -- a long, fun day, but an exhausting one.

He could hardly keep his eyes open; he felt "floppy" and occasionally cried little whimpers of exhaustion. I knew part of his problem was the fact that he was beyond starving, and as as soon as he ate some dinner he'd get his energy back. I tried to explain this to him but he was too tired to hear it. I tried another tactic.

"Aidan, your body is like a car," I said. "Right now your gas tank is empty, so it needs some gas -- or food -- so you can start driving around again." He got that, but still whimpered all throughout dinner. He ate his chicken and broccoli veeerrrrryyyy slowly, but he ate nonetheless. Then, about 3/4 of the way through his plate, he put his fork down.

"Mommy," he said groggily, eyes half opened. "I'm all full of gas now."

That Hot Dog Shouldn't Be There!

What do you get when you stick a plastic hot dog and a superball where it doesn't belong?


... A competition (whose remedy will work for dislodging the offending items? The spoon or the race car track?)

... Teamwork

... A really good chunk of time used up in quiet determination (no screaming, fighting)

... Creativity

... With a little frustration thrown in the mix.

So, you might be wondering -- how did the hot dog and superball finally escape the dreaded ball-popper toy? (We'll skip the question of "how did it get there in the first place?" That's an easy one).

No kitchen utensils or flexible tracks necessary.
Grace just pulled it apart and retrieved her beloved hot dog.

Why this entire scenario cracked me up is a mystery, but these kids -- with the presence of a toy hot dog -- sure do make me laugh.

To Pee or Not to Pee

One of my potential goals this summer was to potty train Grace. She turned 3, a good age to start, I've been told. Aidan was 3 and a half, and the only reason I waited so "long" was due to the fact that I just had Grace and had heard way too many stories of relapses, resentment, spiteful peeing, and so on. I wanted none of that. Grace was about 6 months old when I started "training" my 3-and-a-half-year-old boy, and it took no longer than a week, with no accidents whatsoever. A snap.

I knew from the start that Grace would be more of a challenge. "Girls are typically easier to train than boys," I had read. Yeah, right. With Aidan, I could talk to him about it, figure it out together. With Grace, it's a different story. She's far more "babyish" (and I don't mean that in a bad way) than Aidan ever was; these kinds of conversations with her don't exist, really. She's just oh, so incredibly different and I would need a new tack for this endeavor. But what that might be, I had no idea.

I found a checklist online, a test of sorts to see if my girl is ready for the adventure:
Does she watch others do this with fascination and interest? No.
Does she talk about it or show an interest? No.
Is she interested in being a "big girl?" No.
Is she interested in panties rather than diapers? No.
Is she dry for longer periods during the day? No.
Does she tell you when she has gone in her diaper? No. (That's what noses are for)

Well, according to the "test," she's far from ready. I thought I'd try some visual connection for her, and purchased pull-ups, decorated with Cinderella and Belle and a bevy of beautiful Disney princess. She was absolutely delighted, hugging the package during our entire grocery trip yesterday. I talked to her about it, but really felt it was a situation of "lights are on but no one's home." I persevered.

After her nap, I thought it would be a perfect time to try. I had the afternoon in front of me, I prepared to set the timer at half hour intervals, and so on. I dragged out the purple potty seat from the attic (the kind that sit directly on the toilet) and deemed it her new "princess throne." She squealed with delight; I was hopeful. I sat her down; "Nothing!" she said. OK, no problem. I put on the pull-up and showed her how it worked. She loved it and refused to put her regular pants on. "I want to show Grandma!" she said, so we trekked upstairs.

Then came the final sign. She stopped in her tracks, stood by the door and ... just stood there. For a moment. I just looked at her, she looked at me. Then:

"Mommy! I have to go potty!"

A flurry of activity, I whisked her to the bathroom, pulled down her pants ... and smelled pee. She had peed first, THEN told me she had to go.

Well, it's a start.

Later that evening, the little nudie kids stood in the bathroom, waiting patiently while Daddy filled the tub. I had placed her, just moments before, on the toilet, recalling how we started training Aidan -- right before bathtime. "Nothing!" she said again. Now the nudesters stood together, a cute picture really, when suddenly:

"EEWWWWW!" from Aidan, looking at a puddle on the floor.

"Grace, what is that?" I asked. She smiled at me.

"Mommy, I have to go potty!"

I put the pull-ups in the closet.
She is so not ready.
Nor am I.

Who'da Thunk

Grace got this present for her birthday. It's adorable -- a wooden spin on the old "paper dolls" I used to play with. No more ripped-off tabs and crumpled paper clothes. It's all magnetic, with gowns and shoes and accessories. It's actually really fun. But Grace doesn't play with it much. Why?

Her almost-six-year-old brother LOVES it, and plays with it daily.

It's kind of funny, watching Grace play with his Hot Wheels while Aidan mixes-and-matches. Although today he decided to switch it up, putting everything in the wrong places. Grace had a fit at this travesty. Bejeweled glass slippers do not belong on the head of a princess.

Ah, yes. This is my day. Now they're playing with balloons, watching them bounce around off the ceiling fan. I'm bracing myself for a big pop ...

Take a Breath

Phew! It feels like it's been ages (or at least, definitely, days) since I've paid a visit to my little blog and felt it time to check in. I'm not sure where my time has been flying to lately, but there's certainly been a current of frantic in the air around here. You'd think that all my buzzing around would result in some loss of poundage but alas ...

So let's see what I've been up to lately:

- I've got clubfoot on the brain, that's for sure. Still trying to find the right doctor for Grace and feeling rather stuck at the moment. We know for sure we want to find someone who follows the Ponseti Method, but good luck trying to find such a person in this densely packed state of NJ. I don't get it, really -- we're not a modern day Ingalls Family stuck on the big prairie, with only Doc Baker at our disposal. We're in NJ, for pete's sake! We did rule out one guy who, oddly enough, was highly recommended by Ponseti folks, but after hearing his game plan for our little girl, we decided to walk in the other direction ... quickly ... without looking back. A few days ago I actually emailed Dr. Ponseti himself, all the way in Iowa, to get his opinion on the matter. I'm awaiting his response and, hopefully, a good push in the right direction. Still waiting, still eyeing up that little foot which looks more and more like a fat banana each day, still trying not to panic as time ticks by ...

- Also trying to get my "new" kitchen back together. I am loving it, my friends -- the cool shade of silvery blue, the energy in the room, the spaciousness, the brightness, the LIGHT! Now we have to find a time to purchase a dishwasher (portable), see if we like the arrangement (photographs below), maybe move some things around (although we don't have much space to do much of that, really), and once we have the puzzle put together, hang an awesome old wooden, painted sign belonging to Don's grandfather, from his carpentry days. Then my kitchen will feel complete. Well, almost ... until we get a new floor and begin restoration on the little "desk" area in the hallway ... It's an ongoing project, to be sure.



- Speaking of the kitchen, had a fun Providential moment when we realized our large, rectangular table would not fit with a dishwasher in the mix as well. Suddenly, I received a phone call from my friend Jacie. "Guess what I have in my attic?" she said. So ... we are now the happy owners of a round table which fits perfectly in the new arrangement. And it was FREE! Thanks, Jacie! :)

- I thought about potty training Grace this morning. For about 5 minutes. She is so not ready.

- My son impaled himself on a dinosaur sprinkler on Sunday afternoon. At least I think they are dinosaurs. It was gruesome, but in a weird way because there was no blood. He tripped, fell right on top of a unicorn-like creature, whose horn-thing impaled Aidan right in the groin. He screamed, he looked terrified, I tried to brush it off (he's not the bravest of kids when it comes to injuries, having more mole hills than mountains). I took my time turning off the hose, moseyed back over to him ... but when he pulled down his swim suit and I saw the deep hole, with thick layers of skin and a subterranean view I had never seen before ... well, then I got on the ball. It was the strangest thing, this deep hole but lack of blood. We skipped a visit to the doctor, taped him up with some butterfly contraption of snipped up band-aids, and it looks OK. What a weird experience.

- Tried a few new recipes recently, one by way of a Gordon Ramsay podcast and the other from a GlobeTrekker special, featuring foods from Southern Spain and Italy. We had Ramsay's last night -- pasta with a sautéd mix of cherry tomatoes, black olives, red onion, fresh basil, garlic, capers, and anchovies. Woo-hoo! Have a hose ready, for while it was delicious, it was outrageously salty! Don's a salt guy, so it didn't bother him at all, but my goodness I downed about a gallon of water during the meal. Super tasty, though, so I'd make it again. The other dish was a Tuscan spin-off, featuring chicken (the dude used rabbit but ... ick) lightly coated in flour, sage, and thyme, then sautéd black olives, white wine, garlic, rosemary ... finishing up by braising the concoction for a while in the oven. Don added some cherry tomatoes to the mix and served it over rice. Good and quite easy, but also salty. Fun stuff.

- Trying to sneak in another trip to the shore before we find a doctor for Grace, who will indubitably start casting her right away. Once casted, no water. More planning ...

- Of course, I have the day to day craziness to deal with, all contributing to a whirling of the brain. Now it's time for lunch. with a special request from Aidan to make "Daddy's Special Sandwich." Hmmmm ... time to play chef for a while. Hopefully I'll get a deep breath in there somewhere.

A Truly Girlie Day

Ah yes, what's a birthday for a three-year-old girl without princesses, talking mirrors, tiaras, and My Little Pony? Yes indeed -- Grace is quite the girlie-girl, and what a fun party we had!

To survive the sweltering heat, we blew up a few pools -- the big one for the bigger kids ...

... and the Princess of the Day got her own little wet realm, which suited her just fine.

Even girlie-girls can play with the Big Boys, here engaging in saving the world as Super Heroes, and, of course ... Super Girl!

Mommy is secretly digging all this girlie stuff too.

And, of course, the day wouldn't have been complete without a Cinderella cake, which made Grace's eyes light up like never before.

So how are we spending our Sunday? Quietly, at home. I think all of the activity -- not only the birthday, but the serious stuff too over the past month or so with her clubfoot relapse, my own stuff going on, Aidan being ... Aidan, at times ... kids being kids, and so on. I woke up this morning feeling like I too had a birthday -- my 87th. I felt rotten -- not sick, but just completely fried. Don needed to take it easy today anyway and had planned to stay home from church, so the kids and I joined him. I just couldn't do it. Even if I mustered up some non-existent energy to get there, I would never have been able to focus, I am that wiped out. So here we are, a quiet Sunday morning -- we finished watching Erwin McManus preach on a podcast, and now Don is sleeping on the couch, the kids -- who just finished eating The Backyardigans (or as Grace says, The Fartigans!) fruit snacks -- are quietly playing with some of Grace's new toys (while Grace busies herself with a Little People Circus, Aidan has taken over the new Bristle Blocks), and I am starting to feel my spirit starting to slowly put itself back together again, not even thinking what lies in store for me this week. Today is just that ... today. Quiet.