House of Estrogen

Christmas Wrap-Up 2011

Christmas was good to us this year. My dining room table made a rare appearance to host Christmas Eve dinner.  If you know anything about my dining room, this photo in itself is nothing short of a Christmas miracle.

This is my parents' first Christmas here since their move from Texas, so they came over for Christmas Eve dinner. My dinner plans involved cooking a pork roast. Unfortunately, I forgot to pull it out of the freezer early enough to thaw it completely. Since I was hesitant about serving up roast ala salmonella, I ran out and bought a Paula Deen ham on Christmas Eve. That sucker was great! Thank you Paula Deen!

My parents were in luck. They got to hear Addie's harmonica concert. It was as lovely as you might imagine from a hyped-up four year old with a new harmonica.

After Christmas jammies were opened and donned, JoJo read stories.

Then, I had a little fun taking bokeh photos of the tree,

and late that night, Santa stopped by. He stuffed the stockings and set out the baskets o' electronics.

I usually prefer still photos to videos, but I do love videotaping the girls coming down the stairs each Christmas morning. This year, I think Nina's reaction was priceless. I'm so glad I caught it on video.

You think she like her iPod?

Elise was pretty happy with her stash as well.

One of the things on Addie's list (along with a roller coaster, a fox, and a giraffe) was "little tiny people that I can push on a little tiny swing."  After puzzling over this request for a while, I finally realized that she was remembering playing with some vintage Little People that my mom's neighbor in Dallas had. As always, Ebay can usually get me out of any jam. Who would have thought that in 2011, a four year old would be asking for 1970's Little People? When she opened the gift though, she exclaimed, "It is just what I asked for!!"

In the afternoon, we spent time with JC's family. All the testosterone bearing family members (they are few and far between) received remote control helicopters. Papa looks like he was having fun!

 Addie continued her streak of good presents.

Maybe she had just opened her Cars Play-doh set. That was a huge hit. Most other toys were neglected the rest of the day while everyone played with Play-doh.

After a couple of science experiments,

 

a few rounds of new video games, too many desserts, and saying thanks that nobody's hair got caught in the remote control helicopter blades, we all settled down for a long winter's nap.

Three Random Whys for the Week

(and as a sidenote, is "whys" a word? Would it be "whies"?)

1. Why does my husband insist on using military time on his alarm clock? He has never been in the military. He is not a firefighter or police officer. He never speaks that way (i.e. "I'll pick up Nina at seventeen hundred hours"). Why the clock? Last night, Addie woke up at 00:06 with a nosebleed. Yes, I can do the conversion, but when I'm barely awake trying to deal with a nosebleed, why should I have to? WHY?

2. Why did Kim Kardashian choose white bridal gowns for her bridesmaids? I get that it was a black and white wedding, but really - check out Kourtney's photo. Doesn't she look like a bride? Why would you want four other people walking around looking like brides at your wedding? I just don't get it. And while I'm on this topic... black tiers on the wedding cake? Blech. Nobody wants to eat black frosting. Ever.

 

3. Why do Elise and Nina need more pencils at school already? Elise took 48 on the first day of school. Nina took 24. They have only had 19.5 school days so far. Where are the pencils going? Has Elise really gone through 2.5 pencils per day? I think the pencils must run off with the goggles, water bottles, and socks. Somewhere, they are all hiding out laughing at me.

He's Back, But...

Where is my morning person to the rescue? J.C. arrived home safely from his Canadian mountain biking adventure, and I expected mornings to just fall back in place without the no-morning-person-chaos that we had the eleven days he was gone. Unfortunately, I neglected to think about the fact that he had been biking nine days straight, all day, every day, and that he was on the left coast in a totally different time zone. Dude was tired when he came home. Evidence:

• The girls still have not made the bus once since he got back. I'm glad there are other kids at our bus stop, otherwise the bus driver might decide to just quit stopping there completely.
• Two nights ago around 7:30, Nina asked to read to me at bedtime. I said, "You've read to me all week. Why don't you read to Daddy?"  She skipped off to find him, returned quickly and pouted, "I can't. He is all snuggled up in his bed asleep."
• The night before that, J.C. went in Nina's room to tell her "lights-out." She said she just had one more page until the end of the chapter, and wanted to read that. He said that was fine and crawled in her twin bed with her. Twenty-five minutes later, she started poking him, saying, "Dad! Wake up! I finished my book, and I want to go to sleep!"


Nice. At least he made it home safely, if not exactly well rested. Monday starts a new week. Maybe he'll be back to his usual cheery morning self by then.

 

Fun? Insane? Exhilarating? A Death Wish?

I'll let you decide.This is a video J.C. posted last night of himself at Summer Gravity Camp this week. 

When the Morning Person is Away

When J.C. is home, he is in charge of mornings. He is a natural morning person, so it just makes sense that he is the morning captain of this ship. When he is home, our morning routine goes something like this:

6:30: Nina bounds out of bed and starts watching TV.

7:00: Addison gets up and yells for us to wipe her bottom which gets one or the other of us out of bed long enough to do that.

7:05: I'm watching the Today Show in bed. JC is getting dressed.

7:30: J.C. and Nina are dressed and ready to start the day. He has pried Elise out of bed, and he takes all three girls down for breakfast. He puts out cereal and juice for all of them and eats with them while checking his email. I am still watching the Today Show in bed.

8:00: J.C. yells at me to get out of bed, help Addie get dressed, help Elise find her shoes, and make lunches.

8:15: I am out of bed, helping Addie get dressed and Elise find her shoes. J.C. is making sure reading logs are signed, homework is in backpacks, and blankets are ready for preschool.

8:30: I am frantically making lunches, so everybody else can get out the door to walk to the bus stop at 8:35.

8:35: Everyone in the house is ready except for me. They all walk to the bus stop while I get dressed.

Now, imagine how well that morning works when he's not here. Uh yeah, not so well. This morning went like this:

6:30: Nina bounded out of bed and started watching TV.

7:00: Addison got up and yelled for me to wipe her bottom. I did that, and then she went downstairs to watch TV with Nina.

7:05: I was watching the Today Show in bed. Elise was still asleep.

7:30: no change in the status quo.

8:00: no change in the status quo.

8:10: I finally rolled out of bed, griped at Elise to get up, and yelled downstairs to Nina that she needed to make breakfast for herself and Addie.

8:30: I came downstairs to find Addie eating Go-gurt in the playroom (which is carpeted). Nice. Is there anything messier than a 3 year old eating Go-gurt? That's what I get for putting a 7 year old in charge of breakfast. I quickly made lunches, got Addie dressed, and helped Elise find her shoes.

8:38: I assumed we had missed the bus, so I told everybody to line up at the back door to go. While waiting on Elise to find her binder and grab breakfast for the road, Nina and Addie left the house, presumably to go to my car.

8:40: I walked out, heard Addie crying about five houses away. I looked up, saw Nina's backpack in the middle of the road, and she was racing toward Addie. From the other direction, a dad across the street was running toward her. I ran down there. Addie was fine. She had fallen and scraped her knees a little. I asked Nina what she was thinking going to the bus stop with Addie and no grown-up. She said, "I wasn't. She just started running." Note to self: The 7 year old should not be in charge of breakfast or safely walking to the bus stop.

8:45: Somehow, the bus was running later than we were, so the girls actually got on the bus. I'm sure their hair and teeth weren't brushed, but they appeared to have backpacks and lunchboxes in hand and shoes on their feet, so I called it a success.

As much as I complain about the perky morning people in my life, they are really quite useful.  Maybe tomorrow will be better. Somehow though, I doubt it.

Father's Day Beach Weekend

For Father's Day weekend, we decided to take a quick trip to Atlantic Beach. We told the girls that we were going to pick them up early from camp to do a fun family activity in the afternoon. On the drive to camp in the morning, they asked me what we were going to do, and I told them they would find out when we got there. Then we had this conversation:

Elise: I know what we're going to do!!

Me: What?

Elise: We're going to the pool!

Me: pool, huh?  That sounds like fun. Good idea.

Nina: No, I know what we're going to do! We're going to Monkey Joe's!

Me: Monkey Joes... that's a great idea too! You guys have some really good ideas for a fun family afternoon.

Elise: Maybe we're going to the beach!

Me: The beach???  <said with a tone of "you have got to be kidding!">

Nina: Elise!!!! There's no way we're going to the beach!!!

and I left it at that. When we picked them up in a packed-full car in the afternoon, it went like this:

 

Addie was clearly much more interested in Elise's ice cream sandwich than the trip, but at least the big girls were excited!

We arrived at the small cozy condo we had rented late Friday afternoon, dropped off our stuff, and headed to our perennial favorite, Sanitary Fish Market, for dinner.

 

The girls gave me a little attitude,

 

and giggled a lot. I think we were all glad to be on vacation.

 

Then we did our part to support the economy (and Sanitary Fish Market) by buying our annual SFM t-shirts. (Elise's really is THAT bright. I'm pretty sure she could be seen from the space shuttle.)

 

 

Why did I think red was a good color for me? Must have been the peach margarita clouding my judgement. The color Nina chose is so gorgeous. Why didn't I go with that?

 

Saturday and Sunday, we soaked up the sun and played in the waves all day, making the most of our short trip.

 

Elise and Nina spent nearly every second on their boogie boards.

 

 

 

Addie loved playing in the waves too,

 

except for a few run-ins with unexpectedly large waves. (Love J.C.'s expression here... no sympathy for the poor girl, huh?)

 

J.C. taught the girls the very important skill of how to feed sea gulls.

 

Saturday night, we decided to try a new (to us) restaurant, Channel Marker in Atlantic Beach. It didn't look like much from the outside, but it ended up being so nice. There are few things I love more than outdoor dining right on the waterfront!

 

The food was delicious, and it was just so relaxing.

 

 

After another fun day on Sunday, it was time to say good-bye to the beach and head back home.

 

We'll be back though!

  

 

The Girl Daddy

This morning, we got a late start, so the usual morning chaos was even worse than normal as we raced around trying to get out the door on time. Elise came into my bathroom whining and complaining about her camp T-shirt... "This shirt is so tight. I can't stand the neck. It is just so small. It is too tight around my neck. I can't wear it." I looked over at her standing there in the too big T-shirt with the neck hanging down her chest and barked back, "There is absolutely nothing small or tight about that shirt. If anything, it is too big. Quit pulling on it. It is fine. You have to wear it regardless. Go put on some shorts." I had no sympathy, no patience. Elise looked like she might just collapse in a puddle of tears right there on the spot. Then J.C. jumped in with, "What your mom meant by that is that she knows what it is like to wear a shirt that is uncomfortable. She has had shirts before that are too small and knows how frustrating that is. She understands your pain, but she thinks that you should go eat some breakfast before you make a decision about the shirt. Some food in your belly will probably help your outlook on the shirt."

Has he figured out the whole "women want to be heard" thing or what? Elise smiled, laughed, and headed downstairs to pour herself a bowl of cereal. Problem solved. The guy was clearly meant to be a girl daddy... guess that's why he had three of them. Of course, living in a house full of estrogen, he has lots of experience in dealing with morning clothing crises. I think he's mastered it.

The Stubborn, Competitive Child

We decided to go on a little family outing today.

 

The destination... bowling! How flippin' cute are toddler bowling shoes?

 

Size 14 bowling shoes aren't quite so cute, but JC wore his lucky socks and skunked us all.

 

We smiled and laughed, gave high-fives and cheered.

 

We tried out different bowling techniques. Some strategies worked well.

 

Others didn't.

 

Some of us used the ramp.

 

Some of us didn't.

 

The littlest one yelled "GO BALL!!" every time as her ball slowly made its way down the alley.

 

A good time was had by all. Or, uh... almost all.

Our stubborn, competitive middle child refused to play. She had lost a game of Super Mario Party 8 to her dad earlier in the day, so she pouted all the way to the bowling alley. She was not about to enter another competition where she could possibly lose again in the same day. No amount of begging or pleading would convince her to play, so we gave up. Little Miss Headstrong sat by herself in the bowling alley while the rest of us played. 

 

I keep trying to remind myself that tenacity and a desire to succeed are characteristics that should take her far in the business world, but as a seven year old... she is just plain STUBBORN!

A House of Estrogen Morning

Today started out the same as every morning. I was lying in bed half comatose watching Matt Lauer on the Today Show, putting off getting up as long as possible. Nina came in asking me to open a container of fingernail polish, knowing full well that I am completely incapable of rational decisions before 8 a.m.. I opened the polish and sent her on her way, lest she interrupt too much of my time with Matt Lauer. When I finally rolled out of bed, Addie modeled her new look, courtesy of Nina - metallic blue toenails, pink sparkly fingernails, bright pink cheeks, topped off with glossy purple lips. Nice. My three year old looks like a hooker, and I'm still not quite awake. I got dressed, told Nina for the 18th time to get herself dressed, and shuffled downstairs to start making lunches.

We have jelly issues in this house. I don't do grape. I'm a Trader Joe's cherry preserves kind of girl. The rest of the family likes boring old grape for reasons I'll never understand. I have been banned from buying their jelly though because I buy jam instead of jelly or jelly instead of jam. I can't keep them straight. They are both jars of purple glop...what's the difference? Anyway, that is just a little background into the jelly situation. J.C. used to buy the ginormous 8000 oz jars from Sam's Club, but by the time we would get to the bottom third of the jar, the lid would be so glued to the jar that we couldn't get it open. Recently, he switched to squeeze jelly, thinking it would be easier for the girls to use. Have you ever tried squeeze jelly? It isn't like toothpaste or ketchup or mustard that works well in a squeeze container. The purple glop adheres itself to the bottom of the container and is impossible to squeeze out. I worked on making peanut butter and jelly sandwiches, cursing the squeeze jelly all the while. J.C. strutted over to defend his jelly saying, "I'll fix it. You just have to shake the jelly down." Then, in one powerful shake, jelly was EV.ER.Y.WHERE....on the ceiling, on the walls, on the floor, on J.C.'s back, on the cabinets, on a wall hanging. I don't think he could have sprayed jelly farther if he was trying. Then Addison burst in to tears, wailing, "I don't like jelly on the ceeeeiiiiillllliiiinnnnggg."  J.C. started cleaning up his sticky purple goop while I consoled the poor jelly-terrified child. Then from the upper level, we heard screams of "OWWW!! Don't kick me!", "You kicked me first!" "But I didn't kick you hard." When I finally calmed Addie down, assuring her that her Daddy would get all the jelly off the ceiling, it was time to get her dressed. That can't be accomplished without tantrums (from both her and me), but I came out victorious, managing to dress her in everything but shoes.

Fortunately, I had a well-timed morning meeting, so I got to race off to work, leaving J.C. to get everyone off to camp and preschool with lunches, blankets, jackets, snacks, water bottles, assorted necklaces, coins, rubber frogs, and other necessary paraphernalia.

Can you see why I'm not a morning person? Do your mornings resemble ours? Or are we the only ones with sticky ceilings and three year old hookers in the mornings?  Why does every day have to start with a morning?

I'm heading off to bed now, where I plan to stay until noon. No more mornings for me. I just can't take them any more.

 

Priorities

J.C. bikes a lot... like, a whole lot. When people walk into our garage, they ask if he is running a bike shop on the side. No, no bike shop... just gotta have a bike for each use - a dirt jump bike, a kid-trailer-hauling bike, a downhill bike, a tandem bike, a cross-country bike, a road bike, and I'm sure I'm forgetting others. No, I'm not exaggerating. He's just a wee bit obsessive when it comes to bikes.

He goes downhill biking in Snowshoe, WV, several times per year with a  bunch of buddies. They haul all the bikes on a trailer. JC decided they needed a box fitted to the trailer to hold all their muddy, sweaty gear, so he built one.

 

Then he said, I think I'll let the girls paint it. They would have fun doing that.

And they did.

 

 

they planned,

 

made handprints,

 

blew paint dry,

 

painted with a steady hand,

 

and got a bit messy in the process.

 

When they were done, their masterpiece went to Snowshoe.

 

When I saw the finished result, I said, "Aren't the guys going to give you crap for hauling a trailer with a rainbow and flowers painted on the back?"  He said, "Oh yeah... I'll get endless grief over this. I'm a dad of three girls above everything else though."

 

And that, folks, is priorities in order... "I'm a dad of three girls above everything else."  The trips to Snowshoe may challenge my every ounce of patience and energy while single parenting, but I'll always know his heart is at home with us as the rainbow trailer is pulled along the winding roads of West Virginia.

Happy (belated) Birthday, J.C.  I love you.