Girls, Girls Everywhere

Part I. Samantha

Our littlest girl just turned 18 months this past week. It seems to be a transition age from babyhood to toddler-dom. As it was with Ella, it has been a joy to see Samantha's little personality reveal itself.

Here are some highlights of our baby, which I realize is more interesting to us than to most of you, but it’s for the record.

Following the example of her sister, she talks constantly. Of course, most of it is still indecipherable, but she has something to say about everything. Words are starting to manifest themselves more and more. Words consist of: baby, Mama (used 1000x a day), Da, bye, hi. And sounds that actually mean something: “B” = book, “Bah”=ball, “Peez”=please, “ah duh”= all done.

She is obsessed with putting things on her head. Hats, helmets, sippy cups, magnets, books, small toys, etc.

We play peek-a-boo at least twenty times a day.

She L-O-V-E-S her pacifier. She is kinder to it than anything/anyone else. I dread the day when we choose to deprive her of her first love. It will be a sad day in Samantha’s world. She swings it in the toy baby swing, pushes it in the stroller, will climb two flights of stairs to retrieve it. Speaking of two flights of stairs, I think she did it in 10 seconds flat today. And instead of climbing down them, she situates herself feet first, straightens her body completely out and glides down the front edge of each stair.

She loves to slide, dance, bounce to music, talk on the phone.

Her favorite place is to be in the kitchen with me. And the toy kitchen is one of her favorite toys.

Maybe we have a chef in our future. She'll run from the other side of the house when she hears me turn the mixer on.

She knows exactly how to push her sister’s buttons and mine. We’re learning what it’s like to have an aggressive child: one who bites, grabs, hits and takes things. She puts small objects in her mouth only when I’m watching. And she waits to throw food from her highchair until I look her way. She climbs to the top of the stairs, waits for me to start up the stairs to fetch her, only to begin to jump off the top stair so that I have to bust a move to catch her. We have often prided ourselves on how gentle and mild-mannered Ella has always been—surely it was our calm dispositions and stellar parenting. We’re not quite sure where the fire in Samantha’s belly came from. The look on her face in this picture somewhat captures the mischief in her eyes.

She eats just about everything. She eats blueberries like candy. And she devours my Mom’s chocolate chip cookies, which my Mom liberally gives her.

She is terrified of the caterpillar at the beginning of the Baby Einstein videos. She'll watch it with her hands over her eyes, allowing just a glimpse between two of her fingers.

Most of the time, she adores her big sister. She hugs her often, loves to climb on her and stroke her hair.

She wildly applauds after Ella’s violin practices and after Ella says a prayer before a meal. Ella’s room is the mecca of all play areas. It’s where the good stuff is. She has little use for toddler toys—Littlest pet shop, Barbies and Webkinz are preferred. And when Ella justifiably closes the door to keep Sam out, there is banging and crying on the other side.

She can be snuggly in your arms or incredibly independent.

She loves water and would gladly spend the day in the tub if I'd let her.

I adore her to no end and live in amazement that she and Ella are mine.

Part II.
Many of you know I have a complicated extended family. I have three biological and three step-siblings. Two of my biological (Caylor) siblings also have children. And all of them are girls (with the exception of my sister’s adopted son). Eight girls in a row. We are a double-X kind of family. My brother, David and his family paid us a visit last week. With their four girls, it is girl heaven. Ella can’t sit still for days prior to their arrival because she can’t stand the excitement. We had a great couple of days with them, complete with dress-up, dancing, a sleepover and Barbie movies.

And to give David a small break from the estrogen, we made a trip to the Udvar-Hazy Air and Space Museum. One of my favorite museums in DC--they have some amazing aircrafts. You can walk right under an actual Space Shuttle or look into the cockpit of the Enola Gay.

Since my brother is a pilot, you can’t go wrong with sticking him in a gigantic room of airplanes. We had to chuckle at this little propeller plane--it's what he learned to fly on. I'm just glad he and his wife, Janene, survived their many flights on it.

Thanks for coming to see us, Caylors!

With all that said, I'm off to bed. With 4-9" of snow coming our way tonight, I'm bracing myself for a snow day tomorrow. Sigh.

All Systems Ready

Exactly one month from today I will be running a half-marathon.

And I am right on track.

Laura, Jackie and I ran 8 miles today. It was cold and I learned to suck down runner’s goo (thoroughly disgusting, but invigorating.)

I have properly fitted running shoes. I was informed by the sales associate that my foot measures one size bigger than it did before I had Samantha. AND, in addition, being that I’m somewhat of a rookie runner, I learned to wear shoes 1 to 1.5 sizes bigger than my regular size to accommodate swelling feet and prevent black toenails and blisters. Who knew? So after being informed that I needed shoes 2 sizes larger than what I was expecting, my jaw dropped, and I exclaimed, “do you even make them that big”??? Ha.

I am working hard to reduce the treats in my life. I relapsed somewhat over Valentine’s Day weekend...okay, and my Mom's birthday, but how can you resist this blueberry-lemon cake with lemon cream cheese frosting I made for her? So scrumptious, I keep salivating for the blueberry-lemon combo in my dreams. I think I'll make myself one after the half-marathon. If you know what's good for you, you'll try it.

My thyroid condition has been cleared. So glad I experienced radioactivity for the fun of it.

I brushed off the old college hightops (knew they'd come in handy again), and play basketball on Wednesday nights. Good speed training. We won’t talk about our record, but my skills are all coming back to me.

4 weeks to go.

I’ll be ready.

Going Dutch

The Bowcuts decided to take a little Valentine’s Day family adventure to the National Gallery of Art. Brian has been wanting to see an exhibit of Dutch landscapes—a bit of a nostalgia tour of his two years living there as a missionary for our church. The girls are always up for any adventure involving the Metro, so away we went (the child in the blue coat does not belong to us--he/she just happened to make the picture).We navigated through the museum, past the nude sculptures, which surprisingly did not elicit any comments from the 5-year old, and found our exhibit. Three minutes into looking at paintings, we realized what a mistake it was to have the kids tag along for this one. Ella wanted to know how many of these we were going to look at, Samantha screamed wanting to get out of the stroller and when we did let her out she took off like she owned the place.

Still not a terrifically adept walker, she’d crash into people, fall down in front of people trying to study the artwork —you get the idea.

I enjoy art museums, but I’m not really sure what the connection is between needing it to be relatively quiet while looking at art. Is it out of reverence for the masterpieces? Or is it like when you’re looking for an address in the car and you have to turn the radio down so you can concentrate? Anyway, quiet we were not, dirty looks were a plenty, and so I booked it out of the exhibit hall with the kids to leave Brian and other viewers in peace with their landscapes. After Brian had his fill, I did return with Ella, who promised to be well-behaved. I gave her the task of counting the number of windmills she saw in the paintings, which kept her occupied—if only I had thought of that before.

So although it was a nice idea, the museum defeated us. I didn't get to hit the Ansel Adams exhibit, so I'll have to go back childless for that. Instead, we headed to the National Building Museum where they have a children's play zone. (It never ceases to amaze me how Ella, who can play outside for hours on end, climb over every surface of our house, and not ever sit still in her seat, will endlessly complain about a little walking through the city.) It’s a very impressive building, and had lots of room for running.

And the play zone appropriately consisted of lots of things to build with—great for a 5-year old who likes to build things and an 18-month old who likes to knock things down.

After returning home, Ella was the first to notice a flower delivery at our front door. Tulips from my Valentine. A Dutch gem that he loves to give, and I love to receive.

“Tulips for two lips” is our pact.

And to top off the day, my parents watched the kids so we could go out to dinner. Although this would have been an opportunity to carry out the day's theme, the cuisine was instead Mexican, and he paid.

Which made me think, "going dutch" is just not applicable in a marriage. Whether it's paying for dinner, doing the laundry, bringing home the bacon, mowing the lawn--every "man" for himself is not an option. It's a partnership in every way, shape and form.

So I declare that in this house, "going dutch" means Brian taking Jana to Holland. Maybe next Valentine's Day.

Two Steps Forward...One Step Back

On Saturday, as we were rounding the kids up to leave my parents' house after dinner, I told Ella to "hurry and get her panties on" because we had to get home. As I hurried on to go grab something, I could tell out of the corner of my eye that Ella wasn't moving. I turned to look at her and she was grinning from ear to ear. She started laughing uncontrollably...just the sort of thing a five-year old would find hilarious. "Mom! You should have said get my shoes on, and you told me to get my panties on!"

And so I did.

I wonder how many times a day I mis-speak either because I'm doing too many things at one time or because I'm thinking about something else while simultaneously speaking. (Clarification: the panty comment was from me multi-tasking, not because I was thinking about panties!)

It made me remember how my mother so often called us by the wrong names. I was called "Jen" probably as many times as she actually called me "Jana". When she called me "David" or "Andrew", I knew her mind was really somewhere else. We figured out rather quickly to target my Mom with requests for things that were usually "off-limits"--like watching tv on a school day, being done with piano practicing after 5 minutes, or grabbing money for the ice cream truck before dinner-- while she was reading a book or an article. She'd usually just nod her head and mmm-hmmm so we'd leave her alone--that was as much "yes" as we needed.

At least Ella finds humor in my errors. And that's worth something, right? What five-year old wouldn't laugh when I tell her to "turn off her violin" after her favorite tv show or to "finish her lunch" at breakfast. Or me telling her to get her coat on thirty seconds after I zipped it up myself. I feel a little silly talking about motherhood-induced lunacy when I only have two kids under my wing. I mean, it's certainly got to intensify with more offspring, right?

So in my defense, for those of you who don't, or no longer have young children in the house, you have to know that every day is a whirlwind. It's just the way it is. Making ANYTHING happen (making phone calls, cleaning, preparing meals, music practice, organizing, doing laundry, shopping...etc, etc, etc) requires significantly more effort because you're simulaneously: cleaning up messes so you can function, wiping noses and bottoms, keeping them out of stuff they shouldn't be in, searching for things they lost or hid from you, soothing and preventing injuries and of course, trying to enrich and entertain them.

I find when getting anything done, it's always two steps forward, one step back at our house.

For Example:

I may get dinner made, but I quite often have to step over the girls multiple times in the process and then pick up all of the drawer contents that were dumped out, afterwards.

I may get the girls dressed, but will have to search for articles of clothing in the process. A pair of Samantha's church shoes were discovered in a drawer of the buffet last night.

I may actually get around to putting make-up on that day, but will have to allow Samantha to carry, load and unload the contents of my make-up bag several times afterwards.

I may get a shower in that day, but I have to re-roll the toilet paper and pick up the contents that were dumped out from under the sink afterwards.

I may get to talk on the phone, but will be distracted by the children calling my name, locked behind the gate so they leave me alone long enough to talk (really, is there any other way?)

I may get to plan a menu, but will have to pick up the contents of the recipe book shelf afterwards.

So...Ella and (later) Samantha may deem me distracted and loony because I can't keep their names straight and instruct them to put panties on instead of shoes, but in my mind, I'm perfectly justified.

Appeasement

I recognize the Bowcut Bulletin has been rather quiet lately. I’ve been informed that our (limited) fan club is beginning to get restless. We don’t want to upset our following, so I will present to you a recap of our past week.

1. Inauguration Festivities
After much sweet talking, I convinced Brian to go downtown on inauguration day. I was glad, because that way we could make use of his office rather than me wandering aimlessly in 20 degree weather. Although I would have loved to be at the inauguration itself, waiting for 4+ hours in frigid temps (or even without) two little kids didn’t seem appealing. Fortunately, Brian’s office overlooks a section of the parade route. I have fond memories of spending the day downtown in my stepdad’s office for the Bush senior and 1 or 2 of the Clinton parades and hoped that this would create a memory for Ella. So…we packed up and prepared for the worst in terms of transportation. And actually the worst part was steps from our house as we waited for the bus. We strapped Samantha into the Kelty backpack, which she absolutely hated. We waited in the freezing cold for a bus that never came and Samantha screaming bloody murder. Since we had parked our van at the metro the night before in order to have a smooth trip home, the only way to the metro was to squeeze the 4 of us in our two-passenger pick-up (with no car seats) to the metro. Ella kept talking about what a special treat it was to not have to wear a seat belt. I told her that’s because we’re awesome parents… and we’re never doing that again. But other than that, the metro was a breeze down and back.

Keeping two young children entertained in Brian’s office for 5 hours also proved to be challenging. It wasn’t exactly baby-proofed and a parade only holds a 5-year old’s interest for so long. But with lots of treats, long hallways to run/crawl in and friendly co-workers to give office chair rides to our kids, we did okay.

As for the parade itself, it was an interesting spectacle to watch from above. It started an hour and a half late because the Congressional lunch after the inauguration ran over. Again, I was grateful to not be one of the people waiting outside.

As far as Obama himself, he hid out in his car while passing us. Way disappointing. That's his car below with the secret service flanking it on each corner.

We did, however, get to see Biden and his wife, Jill. You'll have to blow this picture up, but there is a small group of people, one of which is a woman in a red coat. They woman is Jill and Biden is the one in that group, closest to us with the white hair. He is so charasmatic--as he's walking down the street he's striking up conversations with people along the way, and pumping them up.

And once they passed, everyone along the street left. Granted they had been out there for awhile and were tired and cold, but I felt bad for the many bands, floats and people who had traveled so far to be there.

It was great to be downtown and to feel the energy and excitement. As Brian and I discussed, to see the transfer of power done so peacefully is foreign to so much of the world. Our presidents simply hand over the reins when their time runs out or the people vote them out. On our way down to the “mall”, Samantha struck up a friendship with a couple sitting behind me. I chatted with them, and asked if they were on their way down to the festivities. The man, who happened to be African American, responded yes, and that he sat at home earlier to watch the inauguration on TV, cried his eyes out, and was coming down for the parade to “hoot and holler his heart out”. It was a moving experience to see so many people celebrate and be so hopeful during such a precarious time in our nation’s history.

2. A lengthy doctor’s appointment. Despite no symptoms, blood work suggests I may have an overactive thyroid. I did not want to go to this appointment—waste of time. (I’m finding that the more doctors I go to, the more they find wrong with me.) But Brian insisted and away I went. So lucky me gets to have a thyroid scan this coming week, which involves ingesting a radioactive pill 6 hours before the scan. I think it’s weird that I’m going to be radioactive. I’m going to be walking around for 6+ hours with a radioactive neck. It seems alarming to me, but I gather they know what they're doing. Perhaps they'll stamp my forehead with:

I’m watching a friend’s kids Thursday afternoon—and I did give full disclosure that I will be radioactive. Which brings to mind the following Kiss lyrics (not that I've ever been a Kiss fan):

She's radioactive (radioactive), she's very selective (radioactive)She's what I need, she's so pretty indeed, I've gotta make her mine.

Funny.

3. I’ve been slowly painting the kitchen while (not so) patiently waiting for our new table and chairs to be delivered (Original delivery date: December 10.) I’m really just showing you these pictures to show off my $20 Vidal Sassoon haircut from earlier that day (what a deal, eh?). I’ve been patiently growing my hair out after my last very sad haircut and I think it’s been salvaged.

4. I rediscovered a chocolate cake recipe that I’ve had since our year in Philadelphia.

We attended a small, inner city branch (church congregation) that was composed of mostly Cambodians. An older couple from the suburbs was asked to come help out in the branch and she brought this cake to almost every social activity. Along with the egg rolls and other ethnic food, it was inhaled. It’s super fast because it uses a cake mix, but it’s so moist and yummy. Next time you need a fast dessert, this is the one. She used to melt some frosting to drip over the top, but I opted for just some powdered sugar. It’s probably not a component of your new year’s diet, but some days are just better with chocolate cake.

Ella agrees.

Chocolate, Chocolate Chip Cake

1 chocolate cake mix

1 small box chocolate pudding mix

4 eggs

1 cup sour cream

½ cup oil

½ cup water

1 heaping cup chocolate chips

Mix together. Put in bundt cake pan and bake @ 350 degrees for 50 minutes. Take out even if cake looks under done. Sprinkle with powdered sugar or dribble with frosting if desired.

5. Our TV "broke". I came home one afternoon and my husband informed me that the picture on our beloved family room TV no longer worked.

Given that said husband has been pining after a considerably-sized flat screen to mount in there, I am suspicious of the sudden death of the TV while I happened to be out shopping. Coincidence? Hmmmm.

I hope this will satisfy the masses for now. :) Good night.

A Rambling Report

Warning: This is an uncharacteristically long post for me, along with high picture content. It's just that when you haven't done a substantive post for two weeks, there is a lot to report. I do not promise cohesiveness or clarity. Just musing. Read at your own risk.

I don't really know what to say about my long lapse in blogging. I think it's my post-Christmas blues. The first week after the holidays is always the pits. It's hard to climb out of the holiday joys of staying in your jammies till lunchtime, indulging in way too many chocolates, going on fun outings, feeling a sense of accomplishment on house projects, and having your spouse around full-time. Fortunately the new year does bring about some momentum, I'm just experiencing a longer warm-up time this year.

And actually one consuming aspect of our lives has been that my 90-year old Grandmother's health has been quite poor. We have been quite concerned about her. She has spent the last week and a half in the hospital, but returned home on Thursday, for which we are very grateful. We're getting to know the hospital staff way too well. For someone who has such get-up and go and has always been so independent, it has been difficult to see her so burdened by the realities and discomforts of being 90 years old.

Despite the concern with my Grandma, we had a great week with my sister, Jen and her family, visiting from Portland, Oregon. Before I recap the time we had with them, I have to show off the DARLING dresses I spoke of previously, made by my Mom and Grandma. Ella and her cousin Lauren have deemed them their "princess" dresses.


They danced and danced together in them, and when Jen and I sensed the disapproving glares from the head women in the family that these were NOT to be used for dress-up, we quickly set a dancing time limit. For Ella, this has been the dress of choice for the past two Sundays and I suspect we'll hit number three tomorrow. Am I setting a bad fashion precedence for my daughter by allowing her to wear the same dress three Sundays in a row?

During our week with the Wards, we boarded the metro several times to hit various sites in DC. I love taking Ella downtown. I need to do it more. (On a day with less people.) It reminds me how much I like living here and what wonderful resources we have at our disposal. (I'm still charting out my strategy for getting downtown on Inauguration Day, which promises to exceed the mall's capacity. Could be interesting.) This picture of Ella and Lauren made me smile.

It brought back fun memories of me exploring DC as a pre-teen with my best friend Annee and her sister, Sarah. We'd take the bus to the metro and spend entire days at museums. It still seems crazy that we were allowed to roam around the city without an adult. Did our mothers even notice where we were all day?

Our first stop of the week downtown was to Arlington Cemetery--both to visit my Dad's grave and to do some sightseeing.

I love this picture of Ella and Lauren playing hide-and-seek in the cemetery (you might need to enlarge it). My first thought was I should stop them--it seemed so irreverent. But then I realized there wasn't a better gift to my Dad than to have his grandchildren playing around him.

Oh, how it saddens me when I think about what he's missing.

As Brian and I have observed many times in DC, if you think a particularly outing is a good idea, chances are so does everyone else. As expected, the mall was mobbed. The museums were slow going, but we HAD to see the new Ocean Hall and Bug exhibit in the Natural History Museum

(This is a Madagascar hissing cockroach. Ella is like me in that bugs/rodents in a controlled environment are perfectly fine. However, if they surprise me in my own house, I can't deal.)

and we HAD to see the newly renovated American History Museum. The First Ladies' gowns are indeed lovely, but they don't display as many as they used to--they've decided to do more rotating. Not a fan of the rotation schedule.

Other parts of our week consisted of random activities to keep the kids occupied and the parents sane. (I warned you there were a lot of pictures.)

A visit to the temple and lights at the Visitor's Center:

A rousing New Year's Eve Celebration that consisted of games and this puzzle. Those pictured here, minus my husband, finished the puzzle at 2:45am. Now that's dedication.

Bowling. I was the champ. The bumpers are a life-saver.

Partaking of our neighbor's trampoline.

Ella attending her weekly birthday party (or so it seems). There was face painting at this one, and I thought it was way cool. She has mentioned daily, since this party that she got to wear real lipstick and eyeshadow. She begged to keep it on for church. I did put my foot down on that one.

So long holiday season. We look forward to your return next year.

World's Tackiest Christmas Decoration

This lovely collection sits in the front yard of a house along our street. I have never seen who lives there. I can only wonder. This is truly a gem.