Bittersweet

Monkey attended her first slumber party last Friday night. It was a birthday party for one of her best friends.

Monkey arrived at the party with her toothbrush & toothpaste, her blankie, her lovie "Softie", her moon nightlight, pajamas and a clean pair of clothing. And of course a birthday present for her dear friend.

She left with a spring in her step and I left with a wrinkle in my brow, worrying that she'd be OK. See, she'd never slept over at someone else's house before without us - not even a grandparents house. Plus that night M and I were up in Rye at his company's holiday party - a good 45-60 minute drive away. You know, in case she needed us and wanted to go home.

We called to say goodnight. And my brave girl did exactly what I want her to do. She broke my heart.

I said hello and in a voice brimming with pride she said "Hi mom, I don't miss you AT ALL!"

That's my girl.

Sibling order: responsible already

I went to Chicago (or "Chicaco"....according to the moron Northwestern grad who approved the proof for the cups used at Soldier Field. hee!) this weekend to watch the Badgers crush Northern Illinois. It was a girl's weekend - and an awesome one at that: my stomach still hurts from laughing.

Before I left this past Friday, I dropped the girls off at their respective schools. When I dropped Monkey off and turned around one more time for a blown kiss, Monkey told me "don't worry mom, I'll tell dad that we have rules to keep safe...". It made me smile. She really took it to heart when I told her to 'take care of your little sister and your dad'!

 Now, if she'd only take it to heart when I ask her to pick up her toys....

SNOW DAY

Today was a snow day.

A seriously GREAT snow day. We got 19 inches of snow in Central Park last night. Do you realize how much snow that is?

Monkey's friend came over, and we went out to play. King of the Mountain was a favorite. As was leaping from a 8 foot high pile of snow into the snow below. It was awesome.

Princess Fever

It appears that Monkey isn't the only one afflicted with Princess fever. Here's her best friend from school, sportin' the Snow White costume. Which she wore to school every.single.day....for two weeks! ha

My imaginary friend

When I was little, I had an imaginary friend named "Mousie." She was, you'll be surprised to hear, a mouse. And I would pretend to be a mouse, too, and bite my cousins when they did annoying things like pile all of the cushions from the patio furniture on top of me and then sit on it. You know, since my mouth was the only thing not pinned down. But I digress about the biting...

The point is, I had an imaginary friend.

Now, recently Monkey has been obsessed with Princesses. Really, I mean obsessed. It's like my very own version of Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Aliens landed and replaced my child with one that only.wants.princessy.things. ALL.THE.TIME.

Princess shoes. Princess toys. Princess books. sheets. underwear. tiaras. costumes. wands. dolls. castles. toothpaste. toothbrushes. headbands. etc.......

So, when Monkey came home from school and started telling me stories about Yasmine, I figured she had read something about Jasmine (from Aladdin), and had an imginary princess friend!

Imagine my surprise when she introduced me to Yasmine....her new friend in late care at her Montessori.

Whoops. And here I thought you were just telling tales!

BFF

Monkey has made some amazing friends at school. Bonds that are profound, complex, and important. I've written about these friendships before. But I think this photo? It says it all.

Overload of cuteness

I've talked about how Monkey has a best friend at school, a little boy she's known since they were 1 years old at school together.

This is the email I got from his mother (also MY friend, in the world of happy things that my kids have brought to my life):

"So I was talking to C last night before his bath. And first of all, in a near-lethal dose of cuteness, he says, “I love our family.” Mental note: remember this, remember this, remember this – when he’s 13, remember this.

So I say back, just because I like to invite criticism. “I love our family, too. And I know that it must be hard, sometimes, because you might want a brother or sister…”

Why do I do these things? But he came right back at me, delivering the final blow of adorableness and cherub-osity:

“But, Monkey is my sister!”

So there you have it. We are officially, um, related?

Welcome to the family! Which we love."

Best buds

M is traveling for work, and was gone over the weekend. To help fill the weekend and keep Monkey busy, I scheduled a playdate with Junebug, a friend of hers from school.

I'd say they look like they are having fun, wouldn't you?

Solidarity

I have a new mommy friend. She is a lovely, talented woman. And, like many of us, sometimes she struggles with the work-life balance.

We emailed back and forth the other day, and I made her laugh by asking her to leave a bread-crumb trail to wherever she locates "work-life" balance, as my map didn't have that location clearly marked.

Now I have high standards. Yes, you all nod. Fine, I have VERY high standards. I like to joke that I'm not anal, I just have standards (implying that others don't...). Because really, is it too much to expect that I can walk barefoot in my own home without food sticking to the bottom of my feet? I didn't think so.

But sometimes I realize that I am too tough on myself. I know my friends are, too. (tough on themselves, not me, that is!)

Gentle readers, do you think that the mythical creature known as "work-life balance" can be found? Is it really just an elaborate juggling act, keeping the balls in the air long enough to touch - ever so briefly - just one thing at a time? Because from what I've learned lately, multi-tasking slows you down.

Maybe the solution is just being "in the moment" - I know, that's so freaking zen I think I just threw up in my mouth a little bit. Ptooey.

But really, all jokes aside, maybe we should just try to be good at whatever the hell we're doing at that particular moment, and ignore the rest. Ignore the mommy guilt that is egging you on.

SO WHAT if the bed is unmade. No one but your prying neighbors need know. Hell, just buy better blinds so no one can see!

SO WHAT if the kids eat peanut butter and jelly sandwiches every day, instead of lovingly prepared gourmet bento-boxes of organically raised whatever. Buy organic bread and soynut butter if you can, and be happy that they'll deign to eat anything at all! (picky toddlers are normal, from what I can tell. who knew! thought mine was just being - well, difficult!)

SO WHAT if the other kids on the bus have cute outfits on. Your kid's private bits are covered in clean clothing? Good enough. Besides, letting them pick out their own clothing encourages independence, leadership, and creativity.

All the mommies (and daddies, this isn't gender specific, although I DO think there is a thumb on the guilt scale for women) together now - raise your fist in the air! United in giving up the guilt? United in enjoying the moment instead of thinking about the kindegarten application-hell you'll be in if your kid doesn't get accepted to pre-k? (that last one's not just me, right?) United in enjoying this process, even if it's messy as hell and these damn kids didn't come with owner manuals? ALL RIGHT THEN!

ALl right then. Solidarity. We're all in this together.

Now, can anyone find that bread crumb trail?

Sisters

On the ride home from school today, an adorable little boy and his father boarded the bus and sat down by us.

Monkey perked up and said "hello Paul" immediately. The father and I shook hands and figured out that our kids were in class together, and as as our brief conversation faded away the two kids were giggling and chortling and playing a silly word game that - really - didn't make any sense to us. But they were having a blast.

They laughed and giggled and leaned into one another, resplendently unaware of how every single adult on the bus was watching them. When Paul and his father departed the bus, Monkey knelt on her seat to press her face to the glass and say goodbye over and over again. Meanwhile Paul was waving furiously at us as the bus drew past him. An elderly woman across from me caught my eye and smiled.

As Monkey settled down from the excitement of seeing her friend, she leaned in a bit closer to me. And Jellybean, nestled against me in her Ergo baby carrier, did something I have never seen her do before.

She leaned away from me, closing her eyes and resting her cheek against Monkey's back, snuggling against her sister. It was unbearably tender. Jellybean doesn't really "kiss" people - she shows affection by gently touching her forehead to you. It is a benediction, a moment of grace. And she's never done that to her older sister before. Until today, on the bus, as her sister's cheeks were flushed with excitement from frolicking with her friend.

I think these two are going to be great friends.

Sometimes, commuting is the best part of the day. (Sometimes)

Memories

Yesterday was 9/11.

For the first time in eight years I wasn't sad on this day.

I didn't focus on all that we lost.

I didn't focus on all that we could lose.

I was just happy to be alive.

I don't know if time heals all wounds.

I don't know if that wound should ever heal.

All I know is that I love my two girls, my husband, my friends and family and beloved cat Ollie.

And that's how it should be.

The girls are back, the girls are back

Remember that song, The Boys are Back in Town by Thin Lizzy? (the boys are back, the boys are back….) I’m humming it, but with my own words because the girls are back in school, the girls are back in school….and it’s a good thing.

Wednesday was the first day back. We dropped Jellybean off first (her classroom is closest to the entrance of the school) and boy was that easy. She smiled at her teacher and practically leapt into her arms. No separation anxiety there. M has been known to make the ribald comment that Jellybean’s definitely a second child – “she gets passed around like a cheap trick” – and only rarely will she object to someone other than mommy or daddy holding her.

I worried that it might be tougher with Monkey, but she was fine, too! And, she helped her best friend Caleb out. Caleb was having a rough time – when he got to school none of the kids or teachers he knew were in the room. When we arrived he was sitting on the floor with his back to the door, bawling loudly and slumped over a toy he was picking at idly (his poor mom, my friend, was standing outside listening with a pained look on her face.)

When he saw Monkey walk into the room though he gave one last shudder, wiped the tears from his eyes (with a quick glance back at Monkey to see if she’d noticed), and sat there with the “who me? naw, I wasn’t crying!” look. Ahhh, the positive effect of peer pressure. It gets you every time!

A ha!

I figured it out.

Monkey wanted her toes painted because Bunny had her toes painted when she visited us!

Oh lordy. Keeping up with cool kids, already.

Dinosaur Fricassee

Two week ends ago our best friends visited. We had a wonderful time, despite the psychotic NYC weather; hot, then rainy, then hot, then rainy

ButWhyMommy, Bubs and Bunny all stayed with us. Yes, there were 7 people (and one cat!) in our apartment. Sleeping arrangements were....a bit different than we had anticipated, but now we know that Bubs can sleep on the carpet if tired enough. (And for the record, NO. I do not make a habit of making my guests sleep on the floor..but look, when their OWN KID kicks them out of bed, whattaya gonna do? But I digress).

Bunny is obsessed with dinosaurs. She has a lovey stuffed animal Triceratops, and another one with some sort of a duck bill she calls Machine (my own knowledge of dinosaurs fails me here), and again - she LOVES dinosaurs. A lot. A lot, a lot, a lot. Which is why she was so happy to see that Monkey has a collection of small plastic dinosaurs.

Unfortunately, Monkey has a very slightly different idea how to play with these dinosaurs. Which is to say that she was cooking them on her play-kitchen,"with carrots."

This was not acceptable to Bunny.

And by not acceptable I mean that Bunny was bound and determined to rescue the dinosaur AT ALL COSTS; she snatched that dinosaur out of Monkey's hand and (no surprise) was then chased by Monkey around the room until Bunny was literally standing on the couch, with her hand stretched up into the air, trying to get the dinosaur as far away from Monkey's outstretched hand as humanly possible.

You know, to save it from extinction a second time.

ButWhyMommy and I intervened, and there was a discussion about sharing. Bunny apologized to Monkey, and Monkey.....well, she went back to cooking the dinosaur as if nothing had happened. (hoo boy is she stubborn. Yes, yes, pot meet kettle. I know.)

I imagine twenty years from now this story will have a well-worn feeling, from being trotted out again and again, and rehashed under the "do you remember when" rubric of storytelling that helps tie friends (and family) together. I can't wait to accumulate the stories these two friends will have.

End of the school year

Last Thursday was officially the end of the "school year" for Monkey. So they threw a party!

All the parents were invited to attend a "social" which, loosely translated, means bringing tons of food, eating tons of food, and watching all the kids go crazy after they've had fruit, muffins, and apple juice. Good times.

I was expecting the usual mayhem. What I wasn't expecting was a short "slide show" put on by the head teacher, J. She took pictures from the year and put them to music. There were a few shows, each focused on a topic - working, running, sleeping, etc.

My favorite was sleeping. I loved seeing all those peaceful faces, including the one of Monkey. It flashed across the screen and I thought - awww, how cute, her best friend R is sleeping next to her.

Only later did I get the whole story. And I got a little choked up.

Apparently, when I was in the hospital after delivering Jellybean, Monkey was having a hard time at school. She was out of sorts because Mommy wasn't home, and because she knew her world as she knew it was changing. So she wasn't napping, crying for her mommy.

So do you know what R did? Every day he would go and sleep next to Monkey, to make her feel better. That's love.

Of all the things that Monkey's montessori is teaching her, I think that friendship has to be the most important.