Tag Archives: Eleanor

Happy Halloween!

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I’ve written before about how this is not my favorite holiday (because, you know – it’s scary). But I can’t dispute the complete joy of little kids in costumes.


Oliver is going as Batman again since his costume from last year still fits. I was hoping George would do the same, but he insisted that he wanted to be Spiderman. Of course Target didn’t have any of those, so he ended up picking this hideous plastic Transformer thing. But he loves it – so whatever. To stay in keeping with the original Justice League trend, Eleanor wanted to be Wonder Woman and we DID find that costume at Target. Funny enough – it’s really cute, keeping my guilt over not being the mom who sews beautiful handmade costumes (i.e. my mom) at a comfortable low this year.

We went to a Halloween party last weekend where the costumes were given a test drive:

Off to fight crime!

Optimus Prime joins the Marvel gang.


Want to know what Eleanor first said she wanted to be for Halloween? Well – she knew that Batman is a superhero, and she wanted to be a girl hero. So she was very insistent that she wanted to be “Batgirl Star Underwear.” It took us several weeks to figure out that she meant “Wonder Woman.”

Happily – no cheap synthetic fabrics were ripped or shredded at the party and we’re all ready for the big show tonight.

Wishing you and yours very little gory dismemberment and tons of sticky candy smiles!

I Think This May Be the Year!

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Before I had children, I received many holiday cards from friends featuring smiling babies and toddlers. And they all looked more than thrilled to be posing for the all important statement that yes – their parents have given birth to THE most adorable child/children EVER.

So of course, I assumed that I would do the same with our own annual holiday mailing. And we had a good start the year that Oliver was born. He was old enough to sit on Santa’s lap and not cry or look like a festive potato, so I used one of the pictures I took for the card:


A little dark – but it did the trick. And I was even able to come up with a cute caption for the inside – something along the lines of “...and I want a remote control, and some paper clips, and a calculator, and a cell phone…OOOH and a few pennies…”
I ordered my holiday cards through Shutterfly and was very happy with the finished product.

Then I had the twins.

They were born a couple of months before the following Christmas, and to say that I didn’t quite have my act together would be like saying that the Titanic was short one or two lifeboats.

This is the closest thing I have to a festive group shot that holiday season:


Aside from the bizarre tree that looked like a porcupine with a mohawk gone awry (Chris wasn’t at the top of his game either when he went out to buy it), and the fact that my oldest child wasn’t in the picture, you couldn’t have paid me to publicize that picture of my exhaustion and general dishevelment. Now of course, I have no such compunctions since I’ve looked like that for the past four years and am used to it.

The following year when Oliver was two and the twins were one, I TRIED to pull something off with the help of some toys and cookies (and a table to trap them against their chairs):


But no dice. That was the best of the bunch.

In 2008, I thought I had a great plan in grabbing them right before we left for a holiday party. I promised Tic Tacs (ah – the days when they thought Tic Tacs were candy…) for each pose:


Sadly, the Tic Tacs were a distraction and caused too much jumping up and down and arm waving. Not to mention the Tic Tacs visible in their mouths in some of the livelier shots. Above, is the most normal looking one of all the pictures I took. FAIL.

Finally, last year, I did manage to get a group picture in front of our tree on New Years Eve. It was too late to do a card, but I think this one would have been “good enough.”


I mean – with the exception of the Irish cross ornament growing out of Eleanor’s head.

But THIS year… THIS is going to be the year. I WILL get a decent group picture on a card and put it in the mail, even if it’s an image of them in their underwear in front of a trash can. I’m sure a Photoshop-adept friend can help me paint in a tree and some pants. If necessary, I will send out a picture of someone else’s children. But I’m mailing a damn holiday card and Merry Christmas, Hanukkah and Quanza to all and to all a goodnight goddammit!

So what luck that I was asked by Shutterfly to review their new line of holiday cards for 2010!

I’ve always loved holiday photo cards best. They don’t even have to be of people. Just knowing that there is a personal photograph involved makes the message all that more tangible. Why offices continue to send out those boring generic holiday cards is beyond me…what a waste of paper.

Since my number one priority is the picture, the designs I prefer are rather uncluttered with just a simple statement of good wishes. I also look for “holiday” cards as opposed to Christmas cards since not all of my friends celebrate the same religious holidays.

Here are a few that fit all of my requirements (click each image for full details):




I also liked this one as an alternative to the lengthy holiday “letter.” Just enough space to give a few highlights (and a better chance that the recipients will actually read it!):


I don’t think I will go with the option above since I could NEVER limit myself that that small amount of text… But the other three are definite possibilities.

This is the year! We will send out a holiday card – and even if the picture stinks, at least the design will be lovely.

Do you want 50 free holiday cards from Shutterfly? Click here to go to Shutterfly for information on how you can get 50 free cards this holiday season, and make sure to select Clever 1000 as the referral source.

This post is part of a series sponsored by Shutterfly. I was selected for this sponsorship by the Clever Girls Collective, which endorses Blog With Integrity, as I do.

A Reemergence, A Lot of Pictures and An Excuse or Two

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Have I really not posted anything in the past two weeks? And the last post was about a bug infestation…nice.

I do have two posts I’ve been meaning to write (one for a couple of weeks and the other for a couple of months), but I’ve been so scattered lately. Maybe I’ll just fill in with various and sundry recent goings on…

First, we just returned from a road trip to Georgia. We left mid-last week and were gone for about six days. That is a long time for three small children to be living as vagabonds. Even longer for their parents.

We were there for a big Hood family reunion, and while there, we also celebrated the twins’ fourth birthday. George and Eleanor are so happy to finally be four. Eleanor would rather be five like Oliver, but she’s settling for four. She’s cool like that.

Here are some pictures from the reunion:
















The actual reunion party took place on a river and we spent half our time sighing at the breathtaking view and the other half trying to keep or children alive. It was a good time. And yes I did notice that most of my immediate family is wearing green and NO that was not planned.

The downside to the twins turning four is their awareness that they can combine forces to make defiant an understatement. I’ve been seeing a lot more of this of late:



If I’m lucky, I can turn it into this…


…but all too often we fall back on tears, time outs, door slamming and even the odd spanking. I’m not wild about hitting of any kind, but it has become a last resort when the sassiness gets out of control. And when I spank, it’s like one whack on the bottom that probably doesn’t even hurt that much. Of course that doesn’t stop Eleanor shouting “and DON’T hit me” when we’re in public places. She’s great like that.

In other news, George just got a super cute new haircut…


…and Oliver is about to lose his first tooth! (Sorry – not pictures of the last – it’s hard to capture a wiggly bottom tooth in a photo.)

Writing will probably continue to be slow on all of my sites for a while. For someone who doesn’t work in an office 9-5, I seem to have a hard time getting anything done around the house. I blame the children and all of their “needs” and stuff. Because they aren’t old enough to read my blog and comment. So yeah – it’s all their fault.

Oh – and I’m seriously thinking about just clearing my reader and starting over since there is no way I will ever catch up on the two weeks of posts I’ve missed. Let me know if you’ve written anything particularly brilliant. Or just good. Or interesting. Or funny? Whatever – you be the judge. Just let me know.

First Day of Preschool (Alternatively Titled: How Many Mediocre Pictures Can I Cram into One Post?)

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Oliver wasn’t the only one who had a first day of school. Today, the twins had their very first day of preschool!

I wanted to take a picture of all three kids on our front steps, but Eleanor had just had a wardrobe crisis and was still reeling from the stress of it all. She refused to sit with her brothers.




Yeah – so they weren’t all that cooperative either.

Then I decided to try again after parking next to Oliver’s school. First, just of Eleanor since she was striking a pose. But George kept jumping in front of her.



Then I found some good lighting and lined them up, all the while, spewing empty promises of candy and special treats for good behavior…









That was the best I could get out of them. And at this point of reviewing my shots, I realized that there must be a smudge on the lens. Luckily it’s just in the lower corner. Note to self: don’t let George play with the camera anymore. Especially since it results in hundreds of images that look like this:


We were a bit early for preschool arrival, so thought I’d try for a nice first day of school shot of the twins…


I want to kill whoever taught George that Home Alone pose…










Again – this was about as good as it got. Striking “Crew Cuts models” off the list of ways the kids can make money for their college funds.

At any rate – they had a very successful first day and barely looked at me when I left them. We went out for pizza and ice cream to celebrate.




And just when I was starting to feel all smug about what great scholars my children are turning out to be, I spent an hour yelling at the twins to get back into bed and GO TO SLEEP! AND had a super fun phone call from Oliver’s school about how he hit his teacher. Sigh…oh well – one day at a time I guess.

Some Pictures From Our Getting To Be Not-So-Recent Vacation

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I always do that… Say I’m going to post pictures from a vacation and then forget. Well – I don’t forget, but time gets away from me. So a month later…

Here are some highlights of our trip to California and Arizona (new and improved with super-long air travel hell!)


























It was a good time – and I can’t complain too much about the travel part. My kids were pretty good (with the exception of one sleep deprived three year old’s melt down and a meanie up front using the F-word about it).

And now…a much shorter child-free weekend in NYC! I certainly have the life this summer. (Do you doubt it? Next photo installment: the ridiculously good looking lifeguard at our pool. It’s not a heat wave that’s making the suburban moms in my ‘hood swoon…)

Broken English (Alternatively Titled: Fixing Oliver)

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When our children are first starting to put sentences together and use multi-syllabic words, we are gifted with hours of amusement and endless family anecdotes. My three olds make up words and butcher syntax like any other kids their age, and of course we think it’s all hilarious.

Within the past hour, George asked me if a knife was “only for peoples” (his way of saying grownups), and after ranting at me about something, claimed that he didn’t scream, he just “yellowed.” Eleanor doesn’t just wear dresses – she wears “ballerinas.” And for a long time, she would announce in her best ring master voice, “ladies and Jaqueline!” Sorry Jaquelines of the world, but I think my daughter just called you a ho.

From George’s vehement, “YES I are!” retorts to Eleanor’s newest addition to the dictionary: “lasterday,” we revel in their audacity – their uninhibited assault on the English language. And we never tire of recounting these stories to both doting grandparents and graciously indulgent friends alike.

She is something else…

He is quite a character…

But I’ve realized that we don’t tell as many dialogue-related stories about my oldest son. And this isn’t surprising since his delays have made him much slower to experiment with language.

Where the twins, like other children, fling new words like confetti, five year old Oliver holds them close, tucks them into pockets and puzzles over them like foreign currency. The concept of language is understood, but the values attributed to the various elements still elude him.

Of course, he has made us laugh over the years with his own grammatical missteps and mispronunciations. In fact he charmed me just the other day by telling me that I “misappeared.” But these moments have been fewer, farther between and always overshadowed by the worry over what the future may hold.

I’ve been thinking about that more and more as I see the unbalanced ratio of blog posts dedicated to the funny things my children say. Oliver is not very well represented – and that makes me sad.

Because he is just as much of a delight to me as my twins. But who would know it?

I guess we just assume that others won’t appreciate these stories as much as we do. They don’t know how hard he works for what comes so easily to other kids. His funny stories would be more common to children two years younger and don’t seem quite as cute in the context of a boy his age. For those of us who know him well and love him just the way he is, there is no difference. We laugh and beam with pride and find him just as entertaining as his siblings. It’s like an inside joke that only we understand. So why bother?

But that’s not fair to him at all. Especially since there actually are other perspectives or contexts in which anyone can appreciate anecdotes about Oliver.

For a long time, I’ve likened his more unusual social anxieties and his tendency to disengage at times to that of a tourist who doesn’t speak the local language. Or at least not well – possibly due to dialect. He may understand a little of what is said, but the nuances might give him the slip. He doesn’t feel safe much of the time. He doesn’t know what people want of him and what their intentions are. New people could seem nice but really have nefarious plans for him (hello, good natured lab technician who performs pediatric blood tests!) So often, when he feels unsure of himself or the situation he’s encountered, he’ll wander off – withdraw into his imagination.

I’ve frequently remarked that it sounds like he’s speaking second language – like he’s a tourist or recent arrival here. His conversations are more stilted and formal. There are more pauses and confused expressions. And much like an Ellis Island alum, he communicates through rather imperfect English. It’s not baby talk and his diction is quite good, but he mixes up his prepositions and tenses like an immigrant mixes his metaphors.

Just today at the pool when the the lifeguard called “Break!” he looked at me and said, “time to get out Mom, the pool is breaking.”

I imagine Cousin Larry Appleton and I could share many a laugh over these little gems. It’s funny! It’s adorable. And it’s worth documenting and remembering.

He’s something else.

He’s quite a character.

Now don’t get me wrong. We are doing everything we can to help him improve his communication skills so he’ll eventually catch up with his peers and engage in more intuitive, spontaneous conversation. And he’s making some amazing progress with both existing and new therapies this summer. But we’re certainly not in a holding pattern, waiting for the results.

We enjoy every day with Oliver. We think he’s spectacular. We couldn’t imagine life without him. Exactly the way he is.

“The way he is” has changed quite a bit over the past year and continues to do so at a rate that even I – the eternal optimist when it comes to Oliver’s potential – wouldn’t have dreamed possible. And just like a parent does with a typically developing child, I’m simultaneously thrilled and grieved by his advances. Probably a bit less of the latter since these changes are triumphs that can’t be taken for granted. But what can I say? I’m a mother. I miss my babies as much as I admire the people they are becoming.

Because we really do focus so much on helping Oliver gain skills, this is a common topic of conversation with people close to our family. And in that conversation, people sometimes say rather thoughtless things.

I typically try to hear these things as they are intended and don’t take offense – but I have to admit to one exception. On several occasions, different people have made a reference to “fixing Oliver.” As in, “once we get him fixed…“

I KNOW that this isn’t supposed to be degrading to my son as a person, but I can’t help it…it upsets me. And I can’t just say “ah well – semantics!” and move on. Because I know that on some level these same people do consider him defective. Broken.

And I’m not faulting them for that because technically, they aren’t entirely wrong. But I don’t take the same broad perspective. I don’t see him as needing to be fixed – I see delays or disconnects that need to be addressed. He’s not broken, but he’s different. And it’s holding him back. And we can help him.

But I don’t think we help Oliver by seeing him as a thing that needs to be repaired. Because there is one area in which he is incredibly advanced. He is very aware of how he is perceived. He feels our disappointment, our dissatisfaction, our displeasure. He knows when he fails – even if he doesn’t know why. And the wounded look in his eyes tears my heart to pieces.

My son is not a vacuum cleaner or a DVD player. He’s not useless until repaired.

Even if he didn’t make one single advance in therapy this year, he’d be just as precious – just as loved. He is kind and intelligent. He’s funny and full of charisma. He challenges us and teaches us. And he makes me a far better person than I ever would have been without him. He’s helped to heal many of my own broken pieces. He’s mended cracks and made me feel whole. And I would never dare to presume that he is any less for his differences.

So I marvel over what a beautiful boy I have and enjoy big belly laughs over his quirks and crazy English. And I hope that even if he does get fixed in the end – and no one would ever know that he was once “broken” – he’ll still retain some of his otherness. Because it’s the nicks and cracks – the rough edges and battle scars – the unique imperfections – that show our depth of character.

Good LIttle Monsters

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So much for posting every day… I really was planning to post some pictures from our trip – but our lack of a real computer (currently working with a memory-limited note pad) hasn’t provided much motivation.

In the meantime, here are some random shots that show the best part of being a mother to bad little monsters. Because when they are good…








And yes – I do consider sleeping, “being good.”

Also – want to see something side-show freaky?


Oliver was born March 30, 2005 and the twins were born October 9, 2006. They are only 18 months apart – but look at that size difference! It even startles me sometimes…

BlogHer 2010 Voices of the Year Were Announced Today! My Reaction: The Good, The Bad and The (Sad but True) Ugly

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Quick disclaimer for all of my non-blogging friends reading this: you will probably be incredibly bored by the subject…but if you skip down to the “ugly” part, I think we can all relate to some extent.First the good!When I glanced through the list of finalists this morning, I was thrilled to see that some of my very favorite bloggers (and even friends) will actually present in a couple of weeks at 2010 BlogHer Voices of the Year. I can honestly say that I’ve read pretty much every post from some of these writers (I mean – since I’ve been blogging…their pre-2008 material is before my time), and to think that they have been honored for words that made me laugh and/or cry makes me feel part of something bigger than my own little piece of Internet real estate.So the very first thing I want to do is congratulate…

Jill from Scary Mommy – Social networking and design dynamo – just try to match her. You can’t.

Marinka of Motherhood in NYC – one of the the funniest women online, hands down.

Amy of The Bitchin’ Wives Club – a perfect storm of creative talent and undeniable charisma.

(By the way – both Marinka and Amy are two out of three for the humor category. Apparently, I have very good taste in funny people.)

That’s three out of fifteen presenters. And believe me, I’m not nearly plugged in enough to be familiar with even 20% of the people whose posts were submitted. So I’m feeling quite proud on their behalf.

I can’t wait to hear them read their words on stage AND to see the art that will be auctioned off reflecting each piece.

And that’s part two of “the good!” Kirtsy has teamed up with BlogHer to curate an exhibition of works of art – each of which will represent one of the 75 posts that were finalists. These pieces will be auctioned off to benefit The Nature Conservancy and help in the long-term healing of the Gulf Coast.

One of my favorite photographers, Robin of Around The Island, will be there in spirit as her own work is shown and auctioned. Again! My friend! So proud… (She writes more about the reception HERE.)

But what about the bad? What could be bad about that?

Well – here’s the bad.

One of MY nominations that I was so confident would be in the top 15 didn’t get picked. But it’s not all bad… Anymommy (of Is There Any Mommy Out There fame) was still a finalist for Matching, and I very much look forward to seeing the art created to represent her breathtakingly poignant writing.

I could say the same of Ann from Ann’s Rants, Jessica of Bern This, Sue of Laundry for Six and Renee of But Why Mommy who were also finalists. I’m thinking it was a hard call on their entries (and I could even say that “they were robbed!” but I won’t go there…)

So yeah – many wonderful blog friends have been recognized in one way or another. I’m really happy for them – and can’t wait to tell them so in person.

But.

There’s the ugly…

I’m sorry – but I’m trying to keep it real here because…well no reason really – I just feel like it today. And lucky you – you get to hear about it!

Before I get into the muck and grime, I’ll start with a little tale about a three year old angel of a girl named Eleanor. Eleanor is a delight. She’s lovely and full of fun (and – cough, cough – my daughter) – and she is at a very impressionable age.

The other week, we were in California on vacation with my in laws who had a fantastic time being a very bad influence on my children. Late night baseball game outings…unlimited snack food that they never get at home…special presents just because they want them… You know – grandparent stuff. And one evening my sweet little girl was lucky enough to have their undivided attention. They played a kids’ bingo game with the odds drastically stacked in Eleanor’s favor.

And then the sh*t talking started.

Mama Sue: Eleanor – we’re not going to let Papa win! YOU’RE going to win.

Eleanor (very much liking this line of thought): Yeah! YOU’RE not going to win Papa. I’M going to win. You CAN’T win!

And so on and so on and so on [insert uproarious indulgent grandparental laughter here].

SO CUTE, right?

I actually thanked them at the time for my own future hell to come when faced with the next preschool gaming situation.

Fast forward a couple of weeks, and we are playing another bingo game at home (what is it with us bingo anyway? We may as well hustle on over to the community center for seniors’ night out this Friday…) Anyway – we were playing a very fair game that included Eleanor, a semi-involved George and a completely disinterested Oliver. Eleanor immediately started in with her “I’m gonna win” talk, even though her brothers couldn’t have cared less. Since no one was getting special treatment, George (who may have been in the kitchen looking for snacks at the time) won.

Chris said, “Hey look! George is the winner!” And…Eleanor fell to pieces. She really believed that she would always win. No one ever talked to her about the reality of losing. So after some piercing glares and and semi-subtle head tilting from me, Chris took Eleanor aside to talk about what it means to lose.

And as I listened, it occurred to me that the bottom line is the same for everyone regardless of age. If you lose – you have to keep trying. Don’t get mad – just try again. It’s not anyone’s favorite answer. In fact, it’s tedious at best…but it’s very simply true. You really can’t win them all. In fact you might lose them all – but you have to try to have a chance.

SO that brings me to the ugly involved in this year’s BlogHer Voices of the Year selections. As much as we are over the moon excited for the winners – it’s unavoidable that some others were very disappointed.

Because you know what? I’m one of them. And I’m hideously embarrassed to admit that.

When a good friend asked if I’d like her to submit anything for me, I honestly hadn’t considered even trying. I mean, I like what I write, and my small circle of friends and readers give me positive feedback – but I’ve never been the one picked out of the crowd. Always a bridesmaid and never a bride and all that… And really that’s been kind of fine with me because I’ve always felt far more comfortable in the faded perimeter of the spotlight.

But just the idea of submitting something of mine gave birth to “what if.” And that is a very powerful concept. So for once I was bold and asked for recognition. I forwarded two links to posts that mean a lot to me – ones that fill me with emotion when I read them – and said “send them in.” Doesn’t sound like much – but it’s a BIG deal for a mild mannered girl such as myself.

Then time passed and my “what if” was put into the proper perspective. It was a “wouldn’t that be nice – but it’s highly unlikely” (the overcompensating, insecure hope of “what if”).

Most of the time, I really didn’t consider it, but every once in a while something would be mentioned about Voices of the Year, and I’d notice that pretty little “what if” sparkling on my right hand ring finger. I’d taken it for granted, but was happy to admire it now and again.

At some point last week, I read that the 75 finalists as well as the 15 winners would be announced today. And I did something previously unthinkable.

I hoped.

I dreamed.

I even planned.

Why not? I typically live so small – what would it hurt to think big for a little while. Even knowing that disappointment was probable, couldn’t I weigh the universe in my favor with my longing? The Secret said it totally works! Ah well…I think we all let our imaginations get the best of us sometimes.

Last night when I was talking to Chris about BlogHer and the agenda (he’s in the conference planning world, so he’s actually interested), I explained how the Voices of the Year session was planned. I mentioned that I had a couple of posts submitted, “but – they’re two out of a thousand – so you know…”

His reaction was a little more positive though. He said “why not you?”

And that small part of me that wants to be bigger than I really am thought, “that’s right! Why NOT me?” So for one whole night I believed in myself. Not just “what if” – but “why not?”

Well – I don’t need to give too much detail on the obvious outcome. Even if you’re not familiar with the list of finalists, you can pretty much guess that I wasn’t one of them.

And I was disappointed. Not so much that I wasn’t one of the top 15 (remember – I like the peripheral area of the spotlight), but more so because the words that once poured directly out of my heart weren’t even an almost.

It’s not pretty – but it’s the truth. And we’ve all experienced this at some point in our lives, so I’m not afraid to put it out there. I would be very surprised if there was anyone who couldn’t relate to this on some level.

But you know what? I don’t think disappointment or jealousy or envy are so bad. They’re just feelings. And at the very best, they are a sign of trying. Of wanting. Of putting ourselves out there and risking rejection. There is honor in that. And I’m proud of my battle scars.

Envy isn’t a particularly attractive emotion – it’s even classified as a sin (one of the top seven!). But a little green eyed monster never hurts anyone if kept on a short leash (and kenneled as quickly as possible). At worst – it shows our ugly. At best, it keeps us real.

So for anyone else who felt a little “why not me” today (or even “why never me?“), I’d like to honor you for trying. It takes courage to try. You’d be surprised how many people never do.

And in return, I’d like to ask you one thing. Please read my own small attempts:

I am so proud of those words. This blog is the first real writing that I’ve ever done outside of work documents and personal e-mails. I always lived so small – never tried to be noticed. I had ideas but didn’t bother to recognize their value.Then I started a blog. A small thing really – but so big in my own cautious little world. Putting words online is literally putting yourself out there. Asking to been seen and heard – and it’s opened my eyes to endless possibility for me.I may never win anything – but I’ll keep trying. Because “what if” holds far more power then “why bother.”And what about you? I want to hear your voice too. Did you submit something there or elsewhere? Did you find out that a friend did so for you? OR did you not even try for fear of disappointment or exposure? E-mail me at bigpieceofcake@gmail.com. Send me a link to the words that make you proud, the ones that make you believe in yourself – or should. I will read them.

I still believe in myself. And I’ll probably submit something of my own next year. I hope you do the same.

Have courage. Be bold. Keep trying.

Hey – it worked for Susan Lucci.

I Think We’re Alone Now…

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…the beating of our hearts is the only sou-ound.*

Chris is sitting on our front steps with the kids right now, so I seem to have one of my five minute windows to write a little something…

You know what I’m just loving about summer vacation so far? Being with my children TWENTYFOURSEVEN! Never a dull minute, I tell you…

Well, I do find Max and Ruby kind of dull…but I don’t say anything since it might hurt feelings. The rest of the day though? Laugh-A-Minute.

The whining, the crying, the fighting, the general exactly-when-are-you-going-to-grow-out-of-that-ishness… Good times.

Here is my favorite thing that anyone said all day:

Eleanor: Mo-om! George pooped on the wa-all….

That little rapscallion… What WILL I do with him?

And that’s just the twins. Oliver had me in stitches all day with his antics. Running in front of that truck in the Target parking lot…taking his seat belt off while I was driving 65 miles an hour on the Beltway… Hot on the heels of locking himself in the car in 90 degree weather while I frantically searched the neighborhood for him. Stop it Oliver! You’re killing me! I’m serious.

I thought that we could all use a break from the hilarity sometime in the late morning – so I dragged everyone to the YMCA. They ran around the kids’ gym while I took a pilates class. The first pilates class I’ve ever taken, I might add. And let me tell you – I feel great! I’m hoping that I might actually be able to walk again tomorrow.

Since I didn’t want to set the bar TOO high for our summer fun – I thought we’d better skip the community pool today. And they were all pretty cool about it. After a Valium and five popsicles, Eleanor took this minor disappointment in stride.

We really had to save our strength anyway since this is the second week of Oliver’s auditory processing therapy in Bethesda, MD. And we had that rush hour commute to look forward to.

I don’t know what I enjoyed more… Eleanor having a pee pee accident in the car on the way there with no change of clothes…or Oliver spilling ice cream soup all over himself on the way back. Oliver has an edge since his mess was the result of him shoving his fist into the cup to make this really cool squelching noise…. But no…no, George gets a gold star for the day with his shrieks of frustration over anyone trying to interrupt him. When he was ONLY talking nonstop the whole way there and the whole way back.

They had me at pooped on the wall. They complete me.

Seriously though – I do love those little boogers. And they really did have just as many adorable moments of brilliance today. I can’t remember any at the moment…but they happened. And I’ll treasure them always.

*This post was sponsored by Tiffany and Prozac.