Four and a Half!

I can't believe it, but today she is four and a half!

One of The Girl's best friends is exactly fifty-one weeks older than her.  It's fun to see what lies ahead by watching him, and I remember very clearly this time last year that his mother found the time bittersweet.  I couldn't really understand it.  Those crucial first two thousand days were quickly coming to a close for them, and now they are for us.  As the time has drawn closer, I got it.

The same sweet friends invited us to be a part of their annual school pictures, and the timing was perfect.  It would be five days after JayBird's second birthday, and just one month before The Girl turned four and a half.  We almost missed picture day because I was certain it was scheduled for Easter Monday.  Mixing up dates is not something that happens to me often so I was completely befuddled when my friend said, "...you ready for picture day tomorrow?"  Clearly, I was not ready.  I was focused on organizing our first camping trip later in the week.  My friends and I were out at a planning meeting.  Planning for camping.  Not for pictures.  As far as I knew, the children were home asleep in the room with their clothes.  So not only was I not ready, I knew that getting ready would risk waking the children.  Not a good feeling.

Thankfully, The Girl was awake when I got home.  (Did I just say that?)  I said to her, "You're not going to believe this, but picture day is not next week.  Picture day is TOMORROW!  What in the world are you going to wear?"  I kind of had an idea because The Nana had just bought two new dresses that touched the ground, and I was sure it would be one of those.  What I was really wondering was what in the world would  JayBird wear that would, you know, look good with one of those dresses.

The Girl, of course, knew exactly what she would wear.  "The blue and white dress, Mama!"  Me:  "Hmmm.  Not what I had in mind.  I thought you might choose one of your new dresses."  Her:  "No, Mama.  I'm going to be an Azalea Queen."  Me:  "Hmmm.  Whatever you say."

And then, The Papa:  "You're not going to let her wear that, are you?  At least take a change of clothes so you can get some different shots."  (You would think by now he would know that dressing children is not a battle I'm willing to fight.)  The two peas in a pod had a bit of a discussion about which dress she would wear, and here's the result:

The blue and white dress.  :)

The blue and white dress is one of The Girl's favorites.  Hardly a day goes by that she doesn't wear it.  She's especially proud that it belonged to her mother some thirty years ago.

Little Miss Bladen County, 1981

In the age of "Toddlers and Tiaras", the thought of her understanding how I "earned" that crown terrifies me.  She told me just today that her hair was "crazy" and that people would think she is rude and mean and ugly because of it.  :(  She was particularly worried that Joe Joe might see her and not be pleased because her hair was crazy.  :)  She spends a lot of time in the bathroom filling the sink with water so she can wet her hair and brush it down so much that not a single hair has a chance of sticking up.  Last week, however, her hair got too wet, and that, too, proved to be a problem.

Now that I think about it, I should have taken a video.  ;)

Anyway, all that to share that the dress used to be mine.  And now it's hers, and she loves it.  That makes me happy.  I honestly didn't fight her about wearing it because I knew she'd be smiling so big that no one would notice if she was even wearing clothes.  I only love pictures when they capture our lives.

When it was her turn, the photographer moved her toward the sitting area, and The Girl decided where she would sit.  In an effort to "break the ice", I suppose, the photographer said, "Ok, make a scary face!"  The Girl cocked her head, smiled, and replied, "I'm not interested to scary faces.  I'm an Azalea Queen."

An effort was made to get a shot of the children together in this setting, but apparently they didn't turn out very well.  The children had their own ideas of how they should pose, and it wasn't exactly congruent with the photographer's idea.  She got some good shots of them solo though.

Scraped knees and bruises:  real life.

And then, The Girl's favorite, and mine, too:

So there they are:  officially a toddler and a preschooler.  It's so hard to believe my baby is two, and the (tiny) baby I pulled out of the water onto my chest is now closer to five than to four.  A few years ago, I read The Red Tent, and one particular phrase was seared into my memory.  "I would have stayed forever within the garden of Re-mose's childhood, but time is a mother's enemy.  My baby was gone before I knew it, and the hand-holding toddler was replaced by a running boy."  When I first saw these images from the arboretum gardens, I nearly lost my breath because they perfectly illustrated that bittersweet metaphor.

Honestly, though, I have to say now while the memories are still fresh, that I'm not sure I would stay in this garden forever.  I think each stage of development lasts just exactly the right amount of time, and just as the trees have beauty in every season so do we as people.  I love the people my children are and are growing to be, and I look forward to the changing seasons!

(More) Sweet Christmas!

Every year at Christmas, I'm afraid it's going to be the last one that's covered in naivete....that the innocence of it all is going to be polluted.  Does that make sense?  My children (and I don't suppose they're that much different from others) find the purest joy from the simplest things.  I love watching that happen.  We don't "do Santa Claus" for several reasons, and people have been so generous to share their opinions about that.  We do, however, provide lots of opportunities for discovering unexpected joy on many days throughout the year.  When we wake in the morning sometimes and I whisper, "There's new work in the cupboard," I love seeing their faces light up and watching them run out of the room.  (Really.  It's the delight I savor....not the few extra minutes in bed.)

Christmas provides a little more of that, I think, just because children love to see what's in those boxes that stay way up high on the garage shelves most of the year.  One of my dear aunts gave us a lollipop tree one year, and this year I had the idea to make some "lollipops" for it.  While JayBird napped one day, The Girl and I cut some lollipop sticks in half and glued on some pom-poms.  They dried overnight, and the next morning the children found them in a basket ready to decorate the tree.  They get used for lots of things:  lollipops, of course, and also fingernail polishers, something that gets cooked regularly (I have no idea), baby bottles, and who knows what else.  I just know I find them all over the house.  But that morning, they did decorate the tree.

Is that the sweetest thing ever?

JayBird really enjoyed this work.

The Girl is also "interested to" (as she would say) nativity scenes so you can imagine her excitement when she received a new one from another of my sweet aunts.

Well, she was excited until she realized that Baby Jesus does not come out of the manger.  She's managed to put aside her disappointment and enjoy it anyway.  One night, I surprised her by setting it up in a little play space.  She actually woke up while I was working on it and had the groggiest, sweetest little smile as she toddled back to bed.

The Girl loves to move the Wise Men around on the roads, and JayBird likes to be sure the animals stay hydrated.

We just have the sweetest of times with the simplest of things.  No flashing lights.  No noisy toys.  Lollipop sticks.  Pom-poms.  A hand-me-down nativity scene, some felt, and wine corks.  Two sweet babies, and two smitten parents.  That's all we need.  So when I say, "We have limits on things," or "We don't do Santa," just know that our home is (usually) filled with discovery and delight (to borrow a phrase) that the toy stores could never package.

The Crash

Not long ago, I posted about The Girl and her wheels.  Anyone who knows us knows that the bike now lives in the back of our van so it's ready to ride anywhere, anytime.  Not long ago, we were downtown at an LLL meeting, and when we packed up, JayBird fell asleep right away.  As we were driving away from the downtown area, The Girl reminded me that I promised her a bike ride.  Downtown.  I was really hoping she had forgotten so that we could go home, JayBird could sleep in the van, and she could ride her bike in the driveway while I did some housework.  No chance of her forgetting, I'm afraid.  The Riverwalk is one of her favorite places to ride because "we don't have to worry about intersections".  (Her words.)

That particular day, we parked on Ann Street, and she had a snack while JayBird finished his nap.  We got everything ready so that when he awoke, we could get him ready and hit the road.  The stroller was out and ready.  The bike was out and ready.  The Girl put on her helmet.  JayBird awoke, and while he pottied and got redressed, The Girl and I had a conversation about gravity.  Specifically, we talked about the hill we had to get down and perhaps it would be a good idea to walk the bike down the hill until she had a little more practice with the brakes.

In the blink of an eye, I turned around to find that I was talking to myself, and she was having a private lesson in gravity with no words required.  She was in total control:  hands on the handlebars, toes slightly dragging the ground.  Another blink of an eye and I realized I had to choose between leaving my (mostly dressed) one-year old alone in the van and trying to run down the hill without falling and breaking an appendage and/or killing myself.  I knew I was going to have to collect her.  I remembered I had the keys.  I took off down the hill just in time to see the bike hit the edge of the curb and The Girl go slightly over and to the side of the handlebars.  As I approached, she was screaming, "I can't get out of here!  I can't get my bike out of here!"  I pulled her out to find no apparent injuries.  (I later found 2 small scratches on one elbow.)  She just seemed angry that she was temporarily stuck and slightly thrilled that she "went really fast".

I, on the other hand, was in shock that she had collided with neither the telephone pole nor the bush, but had instead, maneuvered directly between the two for a soft landing.

See that space to the right of the light pole?  That's where she went in.

We hurried back up the hill, and the fact that angels were watching over us was confirmed when I found the poop-containing potty undisturbed by JayBird.  He was busy driving.  See why I had to think about where were the keys when my child was heading for the Cape Fear River?

Apparently the impact of the crash knocked the wheel a little loose so we didn't get too far before the chain fell off.  What better time to learn to put on a chain?  Thankfully, my outgoing little biker rounded up help from a passer-by.  I had a strong feeling that we just weren't meant to go bike riding that day, but it seems I was the only one with that feeling.

All's well that ends well, I suppose.

U! N! C! W! Go Hawks Go!!

That's what we've been hearing around our house lately.  Some very generous friends gifted us with tickets to a couple of basketball games, and boy, were the children ready!

JayBird cheered.

And snacked.

And snacked.

And snacked...

.....so he would have plenty of energy to cheer some more...

...and explore.  If you've ever wanted to explore every inch of anywhere, go with a one-year old.

Meanwhile, The Girl was prepared for cheering the team to victory.

Clearly, she's very focused on the game.

Her acrobatics impressed neither her father nor the fans sitting around us.  She looked pretty safe to me.  And anyway, did you see what those other cheerleaders were doing?  Infinitely more dangerous stunts.

On one of our explorations, JayBird and I ran into the Seahawk.  He was a big hit.  JayBird didn't really want to go near him, but he did want to be sure the Seahawk knew there was a picture of him in the lobby.  He spent a lot of time on that.

"Hawk.  Hawk"  (head nodding)

When the cheerleaders went onto the court for the first time, The Girl said, "Mama, I need to go dance with them!" as she headed to the court.  I promised her we would try to catch them after the game, and you would think they were long lost friends when she finally got there.

They were so sweet to her!

Those were fun times.  Fun, exhausting times!

Sweet Christmas!

Sweet.  That's the best way I can describe Christmas morning on Maplechase.  The children had absolutely no expectations of gifts, and they were perfectly surprised to find a few beneath our little tree.

I wish I could remember what was so funny to The Papa.

They've been wanting a tea set for so long, and we finally got it all together!

My girl is always wishing for a tea party!

After unwrapping a couple of individual gifts and unpacking the stockings, they were ready for one of their favorite breakfasts:  waffles and sausage!  So simple.  So easy to please.  So sweet.

The Papa Has a New Job!

Well, The Papa has had a new job for more than six months.  It's wonderful.  He has a job with "regular" hours.  He's home on the weekends, and he's even had a couple of paid holidays.  The best part for me, however, is that he's usually home in time to help with bedtime.

This is helpful.

Isn't this what bedtime looks like at every home with young children?

JayBird gets involved, too, of course.  It's how he learned to count to 19 before he was 19 months old.
"One........two............ fifteen............. thirteen...... nineteen."

As long as he's taking care of both of them, I guess I can't complain.

....sleeping in heavenly peace.

Wheels!

I know I'm technically old enough to have grandchildren, but the idea that I have a child able to ride a bike is kind of throwing me for a loop.  Kay Kay will be four in less than two weeks, and people are asking how that feels.  I guess I haven't really stopped to think about that since I'm so freaked out about her being able to ride a bike.  Freaked out, in a way, and relieved in a way.  Relieved that she didn't inherit her mother's lack of athleticism.  (For the record, The Papa disagrees completely that I lack athleticism.)

Anyway, the point of this post is to remember these first days of bike riding.  It all started with the balance bike.  It was recommended by a friend, and it's amazing how fast she can go on it after just a few months.  We bought this bike mid-July.

She balances and steers like a champ!

Of course she can ride a bike in a long, blowy dress.

Our friends were going out of town for a weekend, and I had the brilliant idea of borrowing their "big girl pedal bike" to see if Kay Kay would take to it as did their daughter.  When I got it home, I realized that my idea was probably a little crazy.  We would probably have about an hour over a couple of days at the most to try it out, and what kid can actually learn to ride a bike in an hour?  The Papa helped her onto the seat, she started pedaling, and off she went!  I couldn't believe it!  After a little while, The Papa had to take off down the street to retrieve JayBird, and I was left helping Kay Kay on the bike.  I helped her on, and she was clearly taking off as I held onto the seat.  She was yelling, "Mom, let go!  LET GO!!!!"  I always pictured that day being me the one letting go while she yelled, "Don't let go!"  Wrong again.

The Papa had already decided he wanted to get her a bike for her birthday, and as luck would have it, the neighbor's seven year-old daughter was moving up to the next size bike.  I say, "...as luck would have it...," because to have that bike would be like some people having a lock of Elvis's hair.  We decided not to wait until the birthday to give it to her, and she seemed pretty pleased when we uncovered it in the garage.

She later told The Papa she was "disappointed because she really wanted it to be a pig."  Too much Charlotte's Web lately, I suppose.

She still needs help getting on and off, but she's totally doing it!

Taking off around the block....

....and they're back.

We call this "The Papa's New Exercise Plan".

JayBird got some wheels, too.

This is JayBird asking for "Hop" which I interpret to mean, "Help Now!"  I could be wrong about that.  I may need to hear it again to be sure.

Maybe I'll start calling myself, "The Proud Mama".  So proud of my girl, and happy for her.  I just love the smile on her face when the wind's on it.  Can't get enough of that.