There is a God!!

Went to the eye doctor with Helen and Ruthie on Wednesday. I am beyond thrilled to report that Helen does NOT need glasses. Relief is not a strong enough word. This is far less about the worries I had with Ruthie (that her beautiful sky blue eyes would be hidden, that she couldn't wear her beloved sunglasses anymore, that I just didn't want her to have that responsibility/annoyance that comes with having glasses) and much more about the fact that I had no frigging clue how I would keep them on her face. Ruthie, while not always compliant, is easier to persuade. Not Helen. She's been insistent on picking out her own clothes since she was barely two. When she has her mind set on something, there is no convincing her otherwise. And she had made it pretty clear to us that she would have none of this whole wearing glasses business. I barely remember Ruthie's portion of the doctor visit, because the fearful pounding of my heart as we awaited Helen's turn prevented me form hearing almost anything. But alas, my worry was for naught. Helen doesn't even need to go back to the eye doctor, unless her eyes start spontaneously crossing, or she develops wall-eye, or some other manifestation of her mother's f***ed up eye sight. Phew.

20/20

It's 8:45 a.m., and I already have a tray of chocolate chip cookies in the oven. Impressed? The bake-a-thon continues.

I have to take the girls to the eye doctor today. I'm terrified that Helen is going to need glasses. Ruthie is soooo good about her glasses, but I know we'd have a much harder time convincing Helen to keep them on. When her father told her she might need glasses and she would have to listen to the eye doctor, she turned to him and said "blah, blah, blah." Then she told me she wouldn't get glasses, she'd just get contacts. I'm pretty sure she isn't three. She's a fifteen year old trapped in a very tiny body. And yes, I know we're screwed.

Oh, and DH's comment when I alluded to the fact that Helen getting glasses was a possibility: "No. I'm not going to have two kids in glasses." Um, okay buddy. Let's see how you work that one out if she needs them.

The Agony of Defeat

This morning has easily been one of the worst in recent memory. Ruthie has been completely unbearable and impossible the last two mornings. This morning was worse. I don't have time to get into the details now, but trust me. It sucked. In fact, when I dropped er off at school and it was nearing time for me to go, she burst into tears. She never, ever does that. Ever. She knew that we had reached a new level of awful mornings. Of course, she has herself to thank for that. But I don't know if she completely gets that. I'm utterly confused and I feel completely defeated. And it isn't even 9 a.m. I'll try to post the rest of the details alter, but today is shaping up to be hell on all fronts. I have to take Helen to "library school." It's not school, but she thinks it is. Then we have to get Ruthie from school, inhale lunch, drive over to Benny's work so he can take the girls while I go for pulmonary testing and chest x-rays. And then I'm supposed to do my volunteer thing at the NICU tonight. It's at the same hospital where the pulmonologist is, but I don't know if I'll have it in me to stay.
At least American Idol is on tonight.

Woohoo!

I figured out that if I disabled adblocker plus on this page, I got all of my edit buttons back....yay!
So later I will be able to add pictures of the butterfly cupcakes I am making for Ruthie's class party on Thursday. Because I am a moron and get myself way in over my head, I need to bake the following this week: 24 + butterfly cupcakes, 2 double pans of brownies, 1-2 large batches of chocolate cookies, and one Ariel mermaid cake. So far, I have made the candy butterfly wings, and I have the first double pan of brownies in the oven. Thank God it's cold enough here that I can store it all in the garage until it's needed on Thursday and Saturday. Is this what all parents do when their oldest turns five? Or is it that preemie mom overcompensation thing? Or is this not so much that, but is it "Celebrate my tiny little sick baby girl turning five and being totally healthy!" I think it's the last one.

All used up

So I committed to blogging five times a week during Lent. That was on Wednesday. I skipped Thursday. I skipped yesterday. That means I have used up all of my free days this week. Of course, being that it's my blog and my Lenten promise to break, I guess in a pinch I could blog twice in one day and count it as 2 days/posts. And this week is going to be a busy one.
Ruthie turns five on Thursday. We are making cupcakes from Hello, Cupcake. She wants butterflies, so we are modifying the monarchs and making them pink and orange, cuz that's what the birthday girl wants. And she wants an Ariel cake for hr family birthday party on SAturday. Which must be made with a doll, like Sleeping Beauty for Helen's birthday (which I would post if I had the icon and link to add a picture but it appears all of my options have disappeared??) And on Thursday, the actual birthday, after the cupcalkes and celebrating at school, we will be venturing up to the NICU, where Ruthie spent her first 47 days, to visit the nurses who have become like angels to us. We will bring them treats. Lots of treats. It's a big NICU (50 beds....Intensive Care...lots of nurses). So my week this week will be spoent baking. And blogging. And cursinig myself for hyping my kids up about fancy birthday cakes. No, I won't buy their cakes. While I have the time, I'll make them, and since I cannot do anything simply, I will stress. And likely curse.

Eyelash Wednesday part deux

So, the idea has always been to give something up for Lent each year. Forty days of abstaining from something that will be difficult to abstain from. Last year, I gave up going to the drive thru. That could have meant no lunching in the car on fast food in the midst of an errand filled day. Indeed that is not what it meant to me. It meant I had to get out of the car to purchase fast food on an errand filled day. Then we just got back in the car and ate it there anyway. Lame....I agree. But it's the first attempt at giving something up in along time for me. Isn't it enough that I can't eat meat on Fridays for the n est six weeks? You have no idea how LOUDLY that package of Nathan's hot dogs is calling my name. I can hear it with the refrigerator door shut. And from the other room. So I thought maybe I'd give up chocolate. But that ended at 9:30 a.m. on Eyelash Wednesday with the consumption of three chocolate chip cookies. So clearly that won't work. Then I recalled the idea that you can also vow to do something good each and every day during
Lent. So I began to think about what specifically I could be doing to make the world a better place. I already do weekly volunteer work at the NICU; I recycle; I don't litter. I don't really have a lot of money to dispose of, so whatever I do must be free. I was stumped all morning, and then it hit me. I will return to blogging. I am so sure that all three of my faithful readers have missed my blogging so much, that my resumption of said will bring hem immense joy and happiness, and their happiness will make the world a better place. I thought about committing to blogging every day, but as I told Carly during our fun dinner out last week, I write too much when I blog. I need to practice the art of brief blogging (and by that I DO NOT mean sitting around in my underwear typing profundities.) Anyway, I did start out thinking I could blog every day, but, as you can see, I didn't blog yesterday. So I will commit to blogging 5 times a week. And the world will be a better place. I'm quite sure this is what the Vatican meant when they encouraged giving things up and doing good deeds. Aren't you? For more on giving things up for Lent, go visit Carly.

Eyelash Wednesday

Today is Ash Wednesday, marking the beginning of the Lenten season in the Catholic church, as well as many other Christian denominations. This meant that Helen and I got to attend mass at the bright hour of 8 a.m. Not quite as horrendous as it sounds since Ruthie gets dropped off at school at 8 a.m. every day, and the church is attached. We just needed to leave a few minutes earlier. And Helen was remarkably good in church this morning. Her recent visits to church have generally included dancing in the aisle and signing "once upon a Dream" while smiling adoringly at the congregation. Some parishioners find this adorable, but I'm sure just as many find it aggravating. But since our pastor regularly declares that it's okay to let little kids talk, walk, sing, etc., the grumpy ones are stuck with dancing Helen. She stayed put this morning. I had warned her that the priest would be placing ashes on both of our foreheads and she was surprisingly cooperative while this was done, and then looked at me and exclaimed "Mom, he put eyelashes on your head!" Later, the realization that she also had ashes (I guess she didn't beleive it until she looked in the mirror) was met with a cry of "Mommy, get the eyelashes off my head." So I proceeded to pluck her eyelashes out one by one....be careful what you ask for. No, I didn't. But I didn't wash her ashes off ether. It's against the rules and I don't want to go to hell and all, ya know.

Busted

I really feel crappy that I'm not updating my blog regularly. I have things happening all the time that I KNOW would be great blogging material, but it seems I am so terrified of getting sucked into my blog and spending an hour typing, when what I can really spare is fifteen minutes. Could it be that I continue to do WAY TOO MANY THINGS???? And I can't stop doing more?? Sigh.

But this happened yesterday and I just had to share it. After a panicked call to Benny at 4 pm begging him to come home a half hour early so I wouldn't kill Helen, who had spent the previous 2 hours screaming at the top of her lungs in the bathroom (long story), things calmed down, so that by the time Benny walked in the door, the situation at home was fairly normal. Oops. Sorry to make you use up your personal time. But really. Her life was in danger. Anyway, so there Benny is in the kitchen; little Ruthie is sitting at the table coloring. And without looking up, without missing a stroke of the crayon, she pipes up "Hey, Daddy, you're an a**hole." After righting myself from nearly falling off the chair I was sitting in, and recovering from the choking that ensued after I nearly swallowed my own tongue, I called her over to whisper in her ear that Mommy sometimes says bad words and Ruthie shouldn't use those words. Then Benny says "Where did you hear that?" and sweet little Ruthie turns around to face me, points her finger, undeniably, right at me, and grins from ear to ear.

Must See TV

I'm coming out of hiding. Okay, I haven't really been hiding. Just busy. And preoccupied. But I felt the need to blog about how much I am anticipating Thursday night TV tonight. Typically, I'd be pretty pissed that The Office and ER, both of which JUST RETURNED LAST WEEK are being pre-empted. And last week, I nearly blew a gasket when what was supposed to be the beginning of the season premiere of Criminal Minds turned into an episode of Diminutive Minds with the appearance of our president, Alfred E. Neumann. But folks, tonight's TV could prove to be even more entertaining than Michael Scott and Dwight Shrute. Maybe more dramatic than last week's killing off of Pratt. Tonight, I will be curling up on the couch with Benny, a big bowl of popcorn, and a nice steaming mug of hot chocolate, and I'll be watching the Vice Presidential Debate. If any of you have been watching recent footage of CBS interviews of Sarah Palin by Katie Couric, you will know exactly what I'm getting at. I'm all for women advancing, but let's try to find one who actually knows a little something about....anything. Actually, I'd be more likely to support Katie Couric on a VP ticket than Sarah Palin. And I'll be eagerly anticipating SNL this week. There isn't much that will keep me up til 11:30, but Tina Fey probably will. And if not, there's my trusty TiVo.

The ballerina and the monochrome one

Lately, I have been allowing my children much more freedom in terms of their daily attire. Actually, it isn't so much that they haven't had any freedom, just that they really didn't care all that much. And I ran with that one, baby. I know my days of dressing them in sickeningly adorable matching outfits are not going to last forever. And if they're cool with that, why not?
Recently, however, they have been exerting more independence in the "dress yourself" category. I still stand my ground when we are going somewhere nice, or when I am being particularly queer and making them do things like wear their matching strawberry capri pants and shirts to the strawberry patch. Because if I didn't, how would we ever laugh at their photos in another 15 years? Well, judging from the outfits I've seen lately, we'll have plenty to laugh at.
Ruthie is in the midst of a hard core ballerina/fairy stage. Today was the first day this week that she has not worn a tutu over her shorts/skirt/pants/whatever else it is she has chosen to wear that day. In the house, she wears ballet slippers constantly, and only removes them to leave the house, at which point she is instructed to put on real shoes. This tutu ensemble is frequently accompanied by fairy wings, which she has in both pink and purple, depending, I suppose, on her mood. Also this week, she added a paper tiara, which she made at a Fancy Nancy party at the library on Monday. The tiara is a little big and is frequently resting on the top of her glasses. It's a fabulous look and elicits all sorts of comments from the cashiers at the grocery store, the post office clerk, and anyone we encounter in a parking lot. And I am impressed with her ability to engage in such unladylike tasks as helping Daddy cut down tree limbs, while wearing said tutu.
Helen has been trying to dress herself for a while now, but we hadn't gotten past the ability to recognize that three shirts and no pants do not an outfit make. Lately, she's gotten better. While she declares that pink is her favorite color, and her dresser drawers are filled with all manner of cute girly clothing, she would likely wear her green M & M t-shirt, or her NY Giants SuperBowl shirt, every day if I allowed it. (Though today she was crying desperately to wear her down parka outdoors in the billion percent humidity...strange child indeed.) Last week, when I instructed her to get herself a shirt (she is quite independent and I do try to encourage that) she went upstairs and proceeded to take each and every shirt out of her dresser drawer and pile them up on the floor. She rifled through the pile, throwing them around and declaring "Not this one! Not this one!" Yesterday, she finally got that she needs to have both a top and a bottom to complete an outfit that can be worn out of the house, and she proceeded to find both on her own. Helen proudly emerged from her room with a pair of tan shorts and a brown shirt. No amount of prodding could convince her that a bright shirt might be fun to wear, or those cute madras shorts. It had to be the brown one and the tan one. So all day yesterday, I carted around a four year old who looked like a Tinkerbell understudy, and a two year old who looked as if she existed in sepia, or perhaps was waiting to have her picture taken at one of those "old tyme" photo places. Other than that, it was a perfectly normal day.