Don't Cry for Me, Argentina

While Momma and Juliette were driving all over the place this morning taking pictures of fountains, I got to go to the park, go out for breakfast, and play soccer with daddy.

Don't worry about me, I had a blast!

You can see more about Momma and Juliette's latest photo adventure at:

http://juliettegoesclick.blogspot.com

I'll ask for a camera when I turn four too, but for now, I'd rather have pancakes with Daddy anyway.

Peace out.

Edward Tulane

I've really done it this time. Bitten off more than I can chew, I mean.

At a recent visit to the library, we picked up The Miraculous Journey of Edward Tulane. It is a story about a rabbit (a "China" rabbit, Juliette would be quick to correct) who learns to love.

I did no advance research. We are 6 chapters in. Edward just spent 297 days AT THE BOTTOM OF THE OCEAN. No good for a little girl who is desperately trying to learn to swim.

It is such a good story, I found myself cheating on Juliette and reading the Amazon review to find out what happens.

NOT GOOD.

Edward's four year old owner dies in chapters to come. WHY, OH WHY don't I read Amazon reviews before impulse choosing at the library????

Is it too much to ask for a HAPPY CHILDREN'S story? This novel is almost biblical in it's associations with grief and suffering.

Do I say Edward Tulane needs to go back to the library and switch it out for that misbehaving misanthrope Junie B. Jones???? Do we skip the part about the four year old?

They write books on what to do about diaper rash, but there is no book to help with navigating the murkey waters of children's literature.

New Hairbands

Just like our friend, Julia! We love you Julia!! We miss you too!!!!

I can't stand up on a motorcycle

Time: Saturday, 10:05 pm

Place: Dining Room and Evie's room

I'm working on what has to be the boringest part of editing a document, checking references. This particular document has more references than text. This is not an exaggeration.

Evie has recently learned to ride a two-wheeler with training wheels. She is excited and is narrating her progress via shouts from her room. (Imagine about a 30 second pause after every piece of punctuation.)

"Mommy? What are you doing? I ride my bicycle down the hill. I ride through the neighborhood."

"I'm not scared, I want to do it again tomorrow."

We then get off topic.

"Daddy isn't kind, Daddy laughs at me." (????? is she kidding?? she loves making daddy laugh!)

"I can touch my foot."

Then we get to the heart and soul of the matter before we break into our closing song.

"Mommy??? Do you like motorcycles? Can I ride a motorcycle when I get bigger? I can't stand up on the motorcycle, it wouldn't be safe."

Can you imagine why I don't feel like editing when I've got this comedy being broadcasted at me from the closest room?

If Men Ruled Etiquette

One more brief golf post.

As we boarded the bus for the tournament that first morning, I realized quickly we had landed in the world of men. Except for one other lone women, we were the only females on a fully-loaded tour bus.

Excitement was in the air.

The men were dressed to the nines.

Their version.

Khakis.

Golf shirt. From the most prestigious country club or sporting event most recently attended.

Baseball hat. From the second most prestigious country club or sporting event most recently attended. (To be in uniform would be tacky!)

Laniard. From the third most prestigious country club or sporting event most recently attended.

The bus laniards were ditched when we arrived at Congressional and everyone received their inaugural AT&T classic version. (Evie begged for mine throughout the day and on the bus ride home.)

When we got home and Bruce saw them, he immediately found a place of honor to hang it.

Guess what he'll be wearing the next time he goes to a tournament?

Life would be much more comfortable, let alone wedding attire, if men ruled the etiquette world.

Lessons Learned from the 7th Green

We are just back from attending two days of the Congressional AT&T golf classic. For those of you who don't know, my Mom is a huge Tiger Woods fan. Huge.

So, here is what happens when you take two girls under the age of five to a golf tournament in Washington DC in July.

1. Rules are waived - no food no drinks no cell phone no nothing. We got in with food and drinks thanks to the little cuties (what - are we going to find something for them to drink at the Grey Goose Vodka tent? I think not!)

2. The Red Sea parts. We all know Tiger Woods is a big deal, right? You have no idea how big. There is a complete blog posting in my head called "The Tiger Woods Effect on Golf" which I have decided to spare you. Watching Tiger on a course is like watching a major prophet from the Old Testament with healing powers - everyone follows him. The hole is 5-10 people deep around the entire perimeter. We are talking a couple thousand. Just to watch what Tiger would do. Then to cheer or moan.

When you have little girls they get to go to the front of the pack and sit on the edge of the hole. The sound / motion guards don't yell at them to quiet down - instead they goad Evie into roaring by asking her who she is waiting for. She will then let loose with her tiger impression.

3. Going to the port-o-potty becomes a huge game of trying to get Evie to NOT TOUCH ANYTHING inside. Use your imagination.

4. Speaking of the potty. Juliette is just about guaranteed to have to REALLY REALLY GO RIGHT NOW after you have been waiting for Tiger to approach for an hour, he's finally coming, and she hasn't had a drop of liquid in four hours. It happened more than once.

5. Riding the bus to the tournament was the highlight. Standing in line for the bus (300 people deep) was only slightly less exciting because it became a game of bus-spotting.

All in all, there was a great deal of fun had by all!

After thinking about it and recouping after two such wonderful days, we will consider all offers to borrow the girls to attend any male-dominated sporting events if their mother can tag along too!

Happy Independence Day, America!

An open letter from Lucie and Cutie

Dear big people--

We are adjusting to our new bowls here in the dining room and thought it time to send you a short note.

Now that we are past the infatuation stage of our relationship, we have just a couple of requests.

1. Please keep your hands out of our bowls.

2. Likewise, please keep flotsam and jetsam out of our bowls. This includes -- dead insects except mosquitos (flies leave a bitter aftertaste), all princess items (we have no use for disney), and finally leaves and plant debris - please remember we are carnivores.

3. No tapping on the glass - if you want to visit us, please just stick your face near the bowl, we promise to swim over and say hello.

4. Keep the big guy away -- we can sense he is not crazy about animals.

5. We can smell the desire for a cat in Juliette. Continue to say no to this request. Cats are our mortal enemies and we were here first.

Thanks for listening. Remember, our royalty checks are due the fifth of every month - spread the love and keep the money coming - or at least the dried worms.

Sincerely,

Lucie and Cutie

Goggles

Make no mistake I am quick.

Juliette is quicker.

She had her second day of swimming lessons today. Second day ever.

Before going, she was lobbying me to wear goggles. There is the urban myth/national enquirer component of child rearing that influences me. Surely you have heard about the kid who almost died because she/he ate a small amount of hand sanitizer, or the kid who's crocs got stuck in the escalator? One I heard recently was a near drowning because a child had never swum without goggles and wasn't prepared when he/she fell in the pool.

"Learn to swim first" I told her "once you can swim you can have goggles in the pool." This decision was one part reaction to true story/urban myth, one part not wanting to give in just because one of her friends had goggles, and one part laziness because I didn't want to have to find the goggles.

So Evie and I dropped Juliette off at 9 am this morning (my former boss tells me it starts with sane times like 9 am and the next thing I know I'll be sitting at poolside at 5:30 am waiting for diving practice to be over.) Evie isn't one to sit around, so we played ball for about 5 minutes and then went to the other pool to watch dive practice. We came back around 9:07.

Juliette's teacher called to me - "Did you see Juliette swim??"

Right, I think to myself, she's probably blowing bubbles and kicking with her teacher's hand on her waist. "No, I missed it."

The teacher takes Juliette out about 10 feet from the pole and Juliette swims underwater, touches the pole and comes up.

"Now can I have my goggles, Momma???"

Mary Poppins & Sleeping with the Fishes

On Mary Poppins. We watched the first 40 minutes of Mary Poppins tonight. What is great about Mary Poppins is that she isn't your mom. She is some exciting exotic creature who enters on a windy day and upends routines.

What stinks about being a parent is that you can never be Mary Poppins in the eyes of your own children. Sure, you can steal lines "Spit Spot" and sing about a spoonful of sugar etc., but in order to be a Mary a fundamental is that you aren't also their Momma (Winifred).

Our children are fortunate to have many Mary Poppins-like figures in their lives. Essentially, anyone who isn't Momma can potentially play the role of Mary. There is no gender bias on fun.

Consequently, Uncle Gerald and Uncle Shane flew in on a cloud Monday night and our lives have been upended in a positive way ever since.

For example, our family has extended itself since the last post. We have two new members, Lucy and Cutie. They are beta fish. Lucy (blue) is Evie's and is quite aggressive. Cutie (Juliette's) had to be removed from Lucy's bowl and is awaiting her permanent digs.

Juliette wants to sleep with Cutie. Momma fears it is a bad precedent and might not be completely safe for Cutie, so we are keeping both fish in the dining room until all is settled. This is a clear indication of why Momma cannot ever be Mary. Sleeping with a fish is just the sort of thing Mary might think was a good idea.

Alas, we must love the Marys the winds blow us. But sometimes it is no fun to be Winifred.

Chicken Soup A La 2007

Juliette threw up in the car today and I have some sort of nasty head cold or bug.

So, after watching hours of Food Network and the movie A Little Princess, what did we have for dinner tonight?

I know you are thinking pho, which would be the best choice, but would require someone leaving the house who just isn't up to it.

Our first choice back up???

Why an Ess-A-Bagel of course. A plain one toasted with just a hint of cream cheese.

We're going to follow it up with ginger ale and hit the sack early.

Thanks to our homeopathic pharmacist, Ellie, for providing a nutritious, filling, stomach friendly dinner for us sick girls!

Top 5 Ways Evie Will Greet a Stranger

1. Hi! I'm Evie, I'm a boy!!!
(to the new executive director at Jennifer's old company)

2. Hi! I'm Evie, I went poo poo in the potty!!!
(to the Rector at our church)

3. Hi Boys!! I'm Evie, let's play!!!
(to any random group of boys between ages 7 and 15 anywhere)

4. Hi, I'm Evie. Do you play football? I play soccer.
(to a 13 year old boy at a party last Saturday)

5. Hi George, I'm Evie!
(to her Curious George underwear)

Momma Envy

Last week the girls and I went to see Rocknoceros at a park in McLean. It was our first Rockno-fest after a long dry spell and we invited all of Evie's classmates to enjoy the ever-fun party.

The girls were delighted to see Coach, Willie-Bob, and Boogie Bennie (who remembered Evie by NAME!)

Once we were rocking away in the hot sunshine, I spotted one of Evie's classmates and her mom.

It was a 90 degree day, we were out under a humid, blazing sun. Amazingly, this woman looked as cool and crisp as if she were in the no-window section of the West Building enjoying Matisse cut outs in a dim room. Her hair was billowing and she had this wonderful relaxed smile. We'll call her Momma Y for the sake of the conversation below."

Me (all dripping with sweat in t-shirt) "Hi Momma Y! You look great - I didn't think you were going to be able to make it today!"

Momma Y "I wasn't sure either"

Me " You look fabulous, so cool and relaxed."

Momma Y "Oh, we just got back last night from vacation."

Bingo. This is what I need to assume a cool relaxed demeanor!

Me "Where did you go?"

Momma Y "We went to the Bahamas, for the first part of the week we were in a secluded resort and then we switched over to Atlantis. It was a great time."

Me, thinking to how Evie never sleeps at all on the first night in a new place - this is not hyperbole. "How did the girls do on the trip?"

Momma Y "Oh, we left them at home with my parents and the nanny."

Thud. All color drained out of my face excepting the green as absolute envy washed over me.

Now I know what I need to do to look cool and relaxed on a 90 degree day. Who is coming to take care of the girls????

Any volunteers????

Any?????????

kidwell farm

we took a trip out to the farm to visit with the lambs and piglets -- sheep don't seem as scary as they did last spring.

Happy Memorial Day and Random Thoughts

When is the last time you explained the thinking behind Memorial Day to a four year old? Actually, she had the opportunity to hear all about it from Charles Durning and Gary Sinese the other night when we took the girls to see the National Symphony Orchestra dress rehersal of their Memorial Day concert.

Both girls loved it. We made them leave against their will at 8:45. They wanted to stay to the bitter end. Both Charlie and Gary gave graphic depictions of the horror of war that were completely moving, but let's just say Juliette came away with a bunch of questions about death, the military, and war in general.

We've been dealing with the concept of death for a while -- the mommy version, "people either get a special kind of sick, old, or have accidents." Regrettably, I forgot to include man against man in the honed down version of ways to die and Bruce got an earful tonight about war.

I've never been so glad to put Evie to bed!

It is an awfully sobering topic, on a somber day that seldom gets more than a few minutes devoted to the root of the holiday.

We have been reminded by Juliette to be thankful for the sacrifices that were made by those we remember today.

You are NOT my mother.

In a polite, civil, society, certain social norms must be observed. As you have children, some of those perceived polite norms come crashing down (of course we are talking bodily functions, appearance, etc.).

Other norms become code red areas akin to national security levels for an already overly charged mother.

An example of a perceived norm. Dinner on the table Sunday night, the ketchup bottle makes the noise all ketchup bottles do when nearing the end of their rope and your daughter blurts out "the ketchup bottle tooted" and dissolves into laughter. The whole family laughs. Perceived norm crashes to the floor.

An example of code red. Same child is caught climbing up the bookshelves at someone else's home. When the hostess commands your child to return to terra firma, said child replies " I don't have to do what you say. You are not my mother."

Screeeeecccchhhh. Halt. Wait just a moment?

Did I just hear what I think I heard?

At what age is the Fox boot camp show going to show up and take my child away to Idaho?

What happened to please and thank you? Have we just begun the descent into the slippery slope of adolescence?

Or, perhaps it is just because the little cheeky apple doesn't fall far from the proverbial tree.

Happy Mother's Day, Gramma!

To celebrate you, I have asked Baby Panda to perform the most tricky trick ever!

Are you ready, Baby Panda???

Ta Dahhhhh!!!! Happy Mother's Day, Gramma!! We love you!!

Happy Mother's Day, Gramma!

To celebrate your day, I have composed a song--

Happy Mother's Day to you,

Happy Mother's Day to you.

You are the BEST GRAMMA!

Happy Mother's Day to you!!!

I'm going to flip upside down now to celebrate!

They had a state dinner for Queen Elizabeth and Didn't Invite Us?

The invitation must have been lost in the mail. We had been practicing with our tiaras for a whole week prior. White tie!! Maybe it was our lack of sash that made them exclude us from the invitation list.

Clearly we need to check in with Mrs. Bush's social secretary. This cannot happen again.

In the Closet

Quick, someone call our social worker. Juliette is in the closet.

Evie was there Sunday.

Are they being punished?

Is something amiss?

Does anyone recall a closet scene in Mommie Dearest??

It isn't punishment. Rather, it is prime real estate for napping. Sunday, Evie requested to take her nap in Mommy's newly cleaned, vacuumed closet.

I immediately sniffed the whiff of opportunity. "I don't know.... you can't have stories or songs if you nap in the closet, because there isn't room for Momma AND Evie in the closet."

"OK."

(Not having to read stories and sing songs is like a get out of jail free card.) I immediately agreed to the request.

Juliette overheard. "but I wanted to nap in the closet."

Nope, if I would even allow for two people, books and songs would be back on the bargaining table and there would be no win for me.

Juliette, in tears, "I never get to sleep in the closet".

Me-"Evie asked first, you can sleep in the closet another day."

Juliette- "Evie always gets to go first" - a bigger untruth has yet to be spoken in the town that inspired such famous lines as "I did not have sex with that woman" and "I am not a crook".

Me - "you will have to wait your turn, today is Evie's turn because she asked first."

Consequently, two days later, Juliette is in the closet. (Well on her way to being asleep.) There is something about the odor of leather and dry cleaning that puts them out quicker than benadryl. If we could bottle the sleep intoxication of the closet, Bruce and could easily quit our jobs and devote ourselves to the millions paid by parents desperate to have have their little angels drift off to sleep more easily.

Or, maybe, rather than bedrooms, we should give Juliette and Evie and the rest of the cherubs those little pod dorms to sleep in like the Picadilly hotel in London or the Hotel Akasaka in Tokyo. We could have some cubbies at the end for a couple of momma's shoes to simulate the closet environment more completely....

Until the construction begins, during nap the girls will be taking turns sleeping on the floor in my closet.