Pavlov's Dogs

There is one sure way to make my children RUN to you. You might imagine it would be by enticing them with a deliciously iced cupcake, blowing the largest bubble ever witnessed by human eyes, or perhaps by making the announcement that it is playground time. All are certainly reasons for Oliver and Emma to quicken their step a little, but not enough to make their earth quake.
If you want my kids to stop, drop everything and run to you... simply turn on the vacuum! I would swear that they think it's a toddler party bus pulling up for them. I pretty much have to go into stealth mode every time I want to clean up some crumbs or else there is a fight for who gets to push the vacuum (and then nothing gets done.) I know somewhere in the back of my mind that this obsession with cleaning will not last. I don't imagine Ollie and Em will be begging to vacuum in 5 or 10 more years. How unfair.

Baby Check

By now you have come to realize that this blog is more about my kids than our time here in Beantown. No apologies though. My offspring consume my whole life these days, and I love it. Oliver and Emma are the most charming, funny and most beautiful children that have ever existed. (Something tells me that all parents say this.) They are especially beautiful, charming and funny when they are sleeping! They get a little crazy while they're awake, and make up for it during slumber. I have more love than I ever thought was humanly possible for my babies during the moments that I peek in while they are resting.

Every night Jeff and I do "baby check" before heading to bed ourselves. We tip-toe into Ollie's room first, scooch him back into a reasonable sleeping position, cover him back up, and give him a kiss on the head followed by a final "Night-night buddy. Love you." Next we navigate our way through Emma's dark room over to her crib, lean over and look for a minute, both whispering "where is she?" When our eyes finally adjust to the light and we spot our youngest sleeping child, we both sigh "ahhh" as if patting ourselves on the back for being able to produce two children with such perfection.

I fear that we may not be able to do "baby check" forever. I'm sure there will come a time, far too soon for my liking, when Oliver and Emma no longer appreciate their Mom and Dad creeping into their rooms late at night to steal hugs and kisses.

PS: Ollie is actually snoozing behind those shades. Sneaky little guy.

The Vortex

Right now life as a mother of two small children is totally wonderful, fulfilling, and overwhelming at the same time. Oliver and Emma make me laugh, smile, they make my heart full, and sometimes they also make me want to collapse in defeat. Jeff is content with our little family just as it is, and I imagine having one more baby DOWN THE ROAD. After law school, after Oliver and Emma are a little easier (does that actually happen, or is everyone just lying to me?)and after we have a home and a tad more financial stability.

Let's just imagine for a nanosecond that we don't have any more children... what then?? What on earth happens when you pass through the vortex of diaper changing, sleepless nights, learning to walk, talk, eat, go on the potty etc...? I will be wondering what to do with myself! You have to remember that my life has been all about taking care of children. I was a Nanny for a very long time, and then had children of my own. Not having small children around me would be like not having a limb or two. I am not suggesting that I will want to keep having more and more children - 3 sounds great. I certainly don't want to transition directly from having small kids to having grandkids without a break. That would be weird. I just don't know what I am going to do with myself when Oliver no longer needs his snuggles first thing every morning, and Emma no longer thinks it's the greatest thing to give Mommy hugs and kisses.

I feel so lucky to have such a wonderful family. Jeff, Ollie and Emma totally complete me. Until #3 comes along anyway. Then we'll be for sure, one hundred percent, totally complete. Right?

My Purple Heart is silver

Last night, as Jeff was out late for a law firm shin-dig, I braved the "meltdown hour" alone. It seems that most evenings around 6 pm, both Oliver and Emma transform into their own personal Mr. Hyde and our house begins to resemble no-mans land. Food shrapnel covers the kitchen floor, a days worth of Lego lay about like dormant grenades just waiting to explode under your bare foot, and the ricochet of high-pitched whining deafens your ears and numbs all senses. Trying to clutch onto an ounce of sanity as both children scramble for the prime spot on Mamma's lap, 8pm (bedtime) seems to actually be getting farther away, not closer! Suddenly, with no warning the clouds part, and there is peace and sunshine on the battle field. It is 7pm. Oliver and Emma's cantankerous alter egos have faded back to the place from which they came. I soak-in the hour of mellow moods, hugs and kisses before helping my babies settle in for their slumber.

I could barely keep my eyes open as I cleaned off my war wounds of ketchup, boogies, spilled milk etc... I noticed from the corner of my eye something particularly alarming to me. Someone had presented me an award that I certainly did not anticipate. A whole patch of silvery gray hairs were sprouting up like a crown on my head! I was completely bummed out upon seeing them. I am only 28. Too young for gray hairs to be popping up in such large numbers! I thought for a moment, and decided that they were a hard earned reward for doing my best at raising a 1 year old and 2 year old. They are a badge of honor, and I will wear them as such.

That is... until Miss Clairol washes them away tonight.

Pre-school or Grad school?

I have found myself incredibly frustrated this last week as I have been researching, and looking for a preschool for Oliver to attend this fall. One wouldn't think it would prove to be such a challenge, but alas, we are in Cambridge, Massachusetts. I have been scouring the internet, visiting the sites of all the preschool programs in our area, only to be left with the feeling like I might barf. I think it's fair to say that about 90% of the schools that have a pre-K program have been reviewing applications since September 2007 for Fall admission 2008, and therefore, the classes are full. That's not the barfy part though. What makes me want to throw up (or maybe just laugh really hard out loud) is that they are charging more to teach 3 years olds than BYU would require for your WHOLE ENTIRE education there. (BYU graduate tuition is $4,860/year - and that's after a tuition raise this last year) For example, The Cambridge Montessori School tuition is (taken directly from their site):

"For 2008-2009
Toddler-
Half Day $17,040
Full Day $21,170
Tuition amounts include fees for field trips"

**You could go to BYU grad school for 4.35 years for the cost of ONE YEAR at a Cambridge PRESCHOOL!!! What is wrong with this picture?**

Ummm... where are they going on these "field trips". I hope it's Disneyland, and I hope they are taking me. Reality Check: it is not as if CMS has a huge lavish campus for pre-k kids. It's a pink box on the corner of Walden and Garden. I pass it 3 or 4 times every day. In all fairness, it is not only the tuition that compares to that of many grad schools. The application process does too. (not a good thing in my eyes) I have known several extremely bright 3 years olds to be rejected from various Cambridge preschools after applying and being interviewed. It is strange, and a little concerning to me that parents of a 3 year old have to hear "sorry man, your kid is just not good enough" for the not-so-posh pink box across from "Paddy's" green shamrock pub.

There is a light at the end of the tunnel! I called several pre-schools this morning, all of which told me there wasn't much chance of there being a spot for Oliver in a preschool class SIX MONTHS down the road. That was until Steve (Eliza and Sam's Dad) called to say Hi. We started chatting about preschools and he told me that I HAD to check out the preschool that Sam is currently going to. I looked it up online, saw that it more than exceeded my idea of reasonable monthly tuition in our area ($350/month compared to $1,704/month) and immediately called the director of the school. I did not imagine there would spots available for fall, especially at that price. (To me it was comparable to the most amazing clearance sale you can imagine - but by the time you hear about it, and get there... you fear everything in your size is gone.) I was left gasping for air as the director said that they actually still had space for this fall! Jeff and I have a scheduled tour of the preschool on Monday morning, after which we will be submitting an application for Oliver to attend the "Sacramento Street Preschool". Cross your fingers for us that Oliver won't be receiving a rejection letter in the mail.

This almost makes me more anxious than I was waiting to hear if Jeff got into Harvard.

Re-constuctive Surgery

I never in my lifetime would have imagined that I would be expected to perform re- constructive surgery. If asked, I would reply "I am certainly not qualified!" I mean, come on... I am a very qualified Mother, photographer perhaps, but maxillofacial surgeon??? I think not. Today, however, a maxillofacial surgeon was needed. A mother has to morph herself to fit a thousand different pairs of shoes just to survive daily, so why not a surgeon? I AM good with a needle and thread...

To fill the gap in my story, Oliver was sitting quietly cutting paper with his scissors while I was 3 feet away from him trying to secure our summer accommodations for Austin Texas. I suppose I should have been paying a little closer attention. 3 or 4 minutes later I looked over, and Ollie's BELOVED blue blankie that is the closest thing to another sibling to Oliver (or even his own child) has a giant shredded hole in it!! This once plush piece of comfort for my son now has a hole the size of Texas in it! I can fit both of my hands through the hole! I showed Oliver and said "what are we to do?? Your blankie is broken! It has a GIANT hole in it!!" His response was "Oh man!! I thought I just cut a little hole in it, not a giant one!" He went on to tell me "you can pin it though Mamma." He did not seem terribly concerned that his blanket had just suffered multiple stab wounds, and was now in critical condition. He also was not affected by the fact that his conjoined twin was now in the hands of someone totally inexperienced in the field of blankie re-construction.

As the blankie lie lifeless in my hands, I thread my machine and took a deep breath. I think I was more affected by this tragic accident than Oliver, but I believe he was still in a state of shock at this point. After 5 long mins under the needle, the blankie emerged with a new lease on life. Seriously scarred, the blue blanket will recover to full capacity. Oliver's blanket was able to acquire a life long restraining order against "Dexter the Doggy" scissors.

The moral of the story is : just because they are quiet, doesn't mean they are being good!

When I grow up...

I still am not exactly sure what I will be when I grow up, and yet I look at my children and wonder what they will want to do. Maybe we'll get there at the same time. (Depressed for just a second here.)They are so incredibly creative at just one and two. Sometimes I wonder if Oliver will dream of being a sports star as he loves to run and play, kick soccer balls, and shoot hoops. On an adventure to Henry Bears Park toy store yesterday, Oliver begged me to get him his first baseball glove (or as Ollie says "baseball glubb"). I'm a total sucker, so we paid for it and then ventured on to the snowy playground to play catch.

As much as his energy amazes me, his little 2 year old mind blows me away. Today we went to the science museum and as I followed my little guy around I could see the wheels in his head turning as we wandered through the Mathematica exhibit. I was wishing Jeff were with us as Ollie asked me "what is that Mamma?" I had to read the sign to tell him what things were. Math truly is not my thing. There's no pretending here!

When we got to the little section where you are supposed to build your own car and race it against another, Oliver's eyes lit up. He immediately raced over to the table to build his car. When I asked him what he was doing he replied "I'm designing a car for you Mamma!" He asked for a pencil and paper so he could draw it first. I wished Steve were there to help him build his car. It would have been so much cooler than what I was able to help Ollie come up with!

After the Mathematica exhibit and the car building I was thinking "ok... where's the art stuff? I'm good at that." After a second of wondering if there was anything artsy here, I realized "duh, we're at the SCIENCE museum."

Well, whether Oliver decides to be a sports star or an automotive designer, and whether Emma decides to be a wrestler or an artist, it will be an exciting adventure. And I will be the proudest mom that ever was.