beach

yeah, yeah, yeah, you've heard it before: i love summer. i love the beach. i love photography. but i also really love that rayn was willing to take pictures of me so there is proof that i exist, that ava and seth wanted to go in the water and got completely soaked and that we got to eat trader joe's tuna sandwiches and oatmeal raisin cookies.

what a good saturday.

sheesh, these two. am i right?

the cousins go to the zoo

mad that he's not driving

watching the koi

baby davis stomping in the mud

ava and davis on the train

cousins

davis crying and seth trying to hand her the teddy bear

as i look through my viewfinder, i see seth slowly lean back without changing his expression. next thing i know, he's flat on his back. perhaps a sign that he'd had enough?

davis' sign: she turned around

seth is actually digging something out of the wood AND EATING IT

set and ava have one cousin: her name is davis. and this weekend davis came out to visit with her parents, shannon and justin. since all three grandchildren were constantly hanging out together, kristine requested a picture. and we sure tried to give it to her.

at one point shannon and kristine were dancing wildly in the weeds, swinging their arms, laughing hysterically and singing, "a wise man build his house upon a rock. . ." and while ryan laughed and seth looked puzzled (you'll notice his expression doesn't change. i don't think he smiled once), i shouted, "RODGE! RODGE!" because the reflector was being held askew and there was shadow on seth's face.

remind me to never do that again.

it doesn't look like she asked for it, but she did

so did he, but you can tell.

bubbles

even sam loves bubbles

young and free

ava has been dancing her whole life. she's got these hips that don't lie and a groove thang that can put all other little white girl booty shakes to shame. really. so, when the parks and rec catalog floated in and i saw dance classes for toddlers, we signed up. and got ballet shoes. and wore them with socks. and tiptoed everywhere.

this class was the kind of class which doesn't let the mothers watch. i think seth was relieved to learn that. and i was fine with it, too, i swear. except that this was me leaving ava alone with a woman i didn't really know and when i walked away i had this loud, awful nagging feeling, as if i was leaving something important behind (well, i was. i was leaving my child). and that feeling didn't go away. i walked seth across the grass to a nearby playground where we climbed things that were taller than we were and threw sand into the air. and i spent half the time, turning around, looking for the other child and feeling a slight panic rise in my throat when i realized i couldn't see her anywhere. and then i'd remember: dance class. and then i'd feel irritated that i was so uneasy for no reason.

to the childless out there: THIS is what having children does to you. it makes you SO EMOTIONAL you emote for no good reason at all. IT CAN BE WORSE THAN PREGNANCY (which is worse, by the way, than PMS).

i mentioned that ava loves her class, right? well, she does. and every week i go pick her up and her teacher stamps her hand, smiles at me and assures me that ava's doing well. which is necessary information since i just left my kid alone with her for 40 minutes and damnit, she better have had a good time!

i'm told that there's to be a recital. something that i remember really well until the week of the recital. even the day of ryan asks me, "where do i go to watch ava's dance class?"

did i mention that parenthood means you no longer remember anything? because that happens, too.

so i kick myself for not remembering to inform my mother in law, remind my own mother who has a dentist appointment and hurry us all up so we can get over there on time. i do not want to be the mother who is late and misses the whole thing.

we get in there, get our seats, spot my dad, who, at the last minute, has had the chance to slip in, ava's got her little tutu on and her hair in a ponytail and it begins.

the teacher sort of stands to the side and helps the girls know what to do by doing it and those girls start mimicking with a sort of clumsy and joyful enthusiasm. they're hopping haphazardly, they're throwing their arms in the air, they're watching their parent's faces and cameras beam at them with pride.

except ava. who, for some unknown reason, is angry. and stands there the entire time like this:

THE ENTIRE TIME. about halfway through another mother, who is sitting right next to me, leans over to comment, "she seems rather pissed off."

and i can only say, through my tears from laughing so hard the entire classroom is shaking, "she does, doesn't she?"

naturally, she was fine afterwards

after a bath

the best part of our week

so, good news! we got haircuts. and do i really need to add that we love them?

3.5, baby

likes to talk. can talk a hundred miles a minute (and, in the words of my father, "As Mom might say, she came by it honestly.  That means it reminds me of a little girl I once knew." OKAY FINE! it serves me right having a child who talks this much. i mean, i guess i have talked a few ears off a few people in this lifetime of mine. HI CAROL!). so this little girl dances like a ballerina  complete with toes pointed and arms gracefully curving overhead. puts her own clothes and shoes on. backwards. like, everytime. wants grapes, string cheese and chicken every lunchtime. also, fruit snacks. loves to tell people, "i once had a cat and now it's DEAD." (she's not talking about buddha) thinks that ryan and i live some extravagant party lifestyle complete with nightclubs, bodyguards, enormous purses and bug eye sunglasses after she and seth go to sleep and every night begs for a chance to stay up and live it with us. is too tall to sit on my lap properly. when i read to her at night, she sits next to me. smiles a sweet smile and puts her little hand on my cheek when telling me she loves me. wants to sit next to the faucet at every bath. still sleeps with her blankee. still loves princesses. still sweet. 


and now, she's just old.

little white lies

me: so, ava, tell me what you did yesterday while i was gone!

ava: we went to the park and played. then it got dark! and daddy and sethy went home. and i stayed.

ryan: yeah. i let ava walk home from the park. by herself. in the dark. i was like, "come home when you're ready".

ava: yeah. so i did. all by myself.


this is why i'm afraid to let her go to a class by herself. because one time? she told her teacher that "my mom is so mad at my dad but she still loves him".

i can foresee so much embarrassment in my near future.

chatty kathy

so, new phase! proof that yet again life moves on. and on. the new phase is to constantly be talking, even if you're eating. and, should your mouth be too full and should your mother have banned from speaking with your mouth full, you can simply chew as loud as possible. because i don't think the point of this phase is really to say something, i think it is simply to say anything, and if it's just strange noises, SO BE IT. 

i am ready for the phase to pass. i 'm tired of a little 3-year-old companion who doesn't know how to shut up, even when i start shouting, "THE NOISE! THE NOISE! PLEASE STOP THE NOISE!"

i know this because she merely observes my insanity, blinks and says, "you shouted, mom? you shouted? you can't take it anymore? you're tired? you think i talk too much? me? i don't talk TOO much! i just talk like a little girl! if seth was a little girl, he'd talk like me but he's just a little baby and he's DISGUSTING and. . ."

well, you get the point. 

"a christmas miracle!"

so ryan and i think we're hilarious. i suspect that we're not because no one ever seems to laugh as hard as we do when we're around. so, in the spirit of the holiday season, ryan and i perhaps claimed that one too many things were christmas miracles (because that is hilarious). and ava, the little sponge that she is (example: i describe my car as "hell on wheels" and she scoots right on out to mailbox with the eagerness of a new puppy to inform the mailman that his mail truck is hell on wheels. cool.) has caught on to the trend and has proclaimed many a mundane thing a christmas miracle. she also likes to repeat (or question) that "christmas has been canceled". anyway, i thought you might want to know that. i mean, i know my parents (and ryan's!) do.

so here's our christmas morning breakdown. it began the night before with the tradition of setting christmas treats out for santa, along with some carrots for the reindeer (this process was pronounced a christmas miracle) and then some firm bedtime-ing. ava was a little excited and spent a lot of time requesting drinks of water and one more song.

christmas morning began with ava slamming a plate down on top of ryan's face and announcing that sometime during the night santa had come and had eaten his cookies.

i was just short of devastated. "you went into the living room already?" i asked.

"yes," ava answered, then brightly, "and the reindeer ate the carrots!"

so we go through this huge ordeal to buy presents and hide them, to build presents, to set things up like some jolly old elf snuck into our house and leaves presents behind and come morningtime, all ava really cares about is the fact that somebody ate the cookies and carrots.

"well, did you see what santa left you?" i ask.

"oh, yeah, a pink bike," ava answered. like i just asked her if she remembered to brush her teeth before she went to bed the night before.

so the moment i envisioned as i purchased that stupid pink bike never occurred. the joy, the happiness, the glee, the hands clapping, the feet jumping, the ecstatic exclamations of "it's a christmas miracle!"? none of it. i got none of it.

oh well. hasn't motherhood just been one enormous journey of learning how to cope with all of your careful plans going completely haywire and working with something completely different?

in all fairness, seth, after we poked and prodded to wake him and then bribed him, was thrilled with his little rocking moose.  at least one of my children will fulfill my dreams as i play st nick for him.

naturally, the number of presents overwhelmed them, i enjoyed my presents and was not overwhelmed and ryan videotaped far too much. including the reaction to my opening a present and, as soon as he'd shut the darn thing off he asked, "so, what do you really think?"

oh please. i don't have enough minutes in my day to fake a reaction to a christmas present.

luckily my family has a christmas tradition good enough to cure the disappointment of a jilted santa claus. after the magic of christmas had lifted, we packed up and headed over for a heart attack breakfast: a once a year treat prepared by my father which includes scrambled eggs, bacon, homemade hash browns and fresh squeezed orange juice.  it is divine.

so while we ate food that slowly clogged our arteries, ava pronounced her bacon a christmas miracle and i found myself looking forward to next year; another shot at experiencing some pure, unadulterated joy.

*also, i'd like to take this opportunity to record the moment where, unable to bear leaving his blankee for even a few moments, seth dragged his blankee into the bathtub. despite my washing the thing weekly, the bath water turned light brown. it was disgusting. but as seth snuggled in the bath, i couldn't help but smile.

kids do the weirdest things to you. i swear, at one point, i was a reasonable adult who did more than chit chat about her kids all day.

christmas card

did NOT manage to get a christmas card out this year, so enjoy this little gem and read back a couple posts. that ought to do it.

oh yeah, and merry christmas!

the wiles of a three year old.

ava walks up to me and hands me her tube of toothpaste. "here mom," she says, "i just finished drinking a little bit of this."

me: "gross, ava. i don't want you to do that again."

ava: "I know, mom. that's why i went into my room where you can't see me."


she's so smart and yet, not.

skirball and a date

saturday morning began the way it always begins: pancakes, disco music and a list of things we need to get done. i, of course, had a huge list and ryan, of course, had a huge list. breakfast ended and as "boogie wonderland" played in the background we stared grimly at the yellow legal pad we'd scribbled all over.

"i want to go to the skirball instead," i said.

ryan hopped up. "okay," he said.

and that's what we did. we went to the skirball, where ava is just the right age for the set up they have (a noah's ark with animals to play with and a little jungle gym that, despite the fact that it terrified both kids, was brilliant), and we played all day. it was absolutely the best. and then, as if that wasn't enough, ryan came up with the brilliant idea of going out that night for dinner. so he called his mom and started talking about a plan. like, maybe we could go to dinner about five? and we'll probably get home around ten or so?

"ryan," i said to him when he hung up, "what on earth are we going to do for FIVE HOURS?"

he shrugged, "maybe i just want to hang out with my wife, okay? you got a problem with that?"

"for five hours?"

we didn't make it the whole five hours, but we did sit at the table at the restaurant long after our food was consumed and talked. it is SO nice to talk to ryan withOUT the little voice piping up in the background, "EXCUSEMEMOMMYEXCUSEMEMOMMYEXCUSEMEMOMMY".

heaven. as much as i love the little fuzzy heads who climb into bed with us every morning, as much as they enhance my love for ryan,  the fact remains that i didn't marry him just because i thought he'd make a great dad. i married him because of all of the other aspects of him, the thinker, the goofball, the historian, the salesman, the romantic--and i love it when i can sit down and focus on all the other ryans. he's (they?) (are) my favorite.

cinnamon rolls

it is during seth's naptime and ava and i are making cinnamon rolls. this thrills ava. she asks lots of questions, insist on pouring everything, asks more questions, repeats everything i am saying, etc. finally, to get a few moments of peace, i hand her a lump of dough and let her have at it. this does the trick, the girl child keeps her mouth shut and concentrates very hard. after a few moments, i glance over to see how she's doing. well, she's eaten her dough. and now, having nothing else to do, she is casually dumping handfuls of flour on to the floor. THE FLOOR.

"ava!" i shriek, "what are you doing? you are making a big mess!" grumpily, i get her down and sulkily, she watches me from the other side of the room where she will stand long enough for me to know that being mean thing? that stopping her from doing whatever her little heart wishes? SHE IS NOT FORGETTING THAT.

finally i finish, put the rolls in the oven to rise and turn to the enormous mess of flour across my kitchen floor. to drive a point home i say, "now i have to sweep this up because SOMEBODY made a huge mess."

ava is interested now. she eyes the floor without emotion and then asks, "you mean me?"

i have no words. only thoughts. none of which are polite.

uh, yeah. i do.

we made forts. and then played in them. all. day. long.

this is the last of it, i promise

confession, list and thoughts. and a reminder.

item 1: it is so very odd how much i enjoy watching the pips kick their heels up and pump their fists in the air behind/beside miss gladys knight. and it is very odd how much i want to be one of them instead of her. but seriously, if you could sing the words, "superstar, but he didn't get far", wouldn't you choose pip? uh, yes. yes you would.

item 2. i forgot that ava used to answer every question with, "yes. sure!" and now i know why tyson would fall over himself inventing questions for ava to answer in the affirmative. because after watching home videos last night, i agree with him: it is totally way cute. and i miss it.

item 3. now that halloween is over, this marks the beginning of my favorite time of year. also the time of year when money is the tightest, i am the most frustrated/stressed and we are the busiest. and i hate all those things (feeling stressed about money, being too busy to enjoy life and feeling frustrated and stressed). so this year, i solemnly resolve to take it easy this year.

is it bad if you solemnly resolve to do something you know you won't do?

confession: i love the smell of cigarette smoke. a lot. i mean, a lot. ryan thinks it's bizarre. people have asked me if i used to smoke. no, i haven't. i just really love the smell of cigarettes. and, if it's cold out and it smells a little like rain, i just might ruin my sense of smell from smelling so hard. because those three things together are amazing. truly.

item 4. halloween started with me rushing to joann's for ribbon and then rushing to my mother's where i cut out a million strips of ribbon and hand sewed them into loops, then hand sewed them on to the hood of seth's lion costume all the while thinking of that one time when i tried to get the hood on his little bald head he screamed and squirmed. so, i might be (probably was) doing all that work for nothing.

well guess what?

HE WORE IT. ALL NIGHT. he is officially the most cooperative child i have ever had.

and ava rocked her little red riding hood costume. and once getting over her very oddly placed fear of saying "trick or treat" (house number one was a good friend's house), she was on fire. so was seth, once he figured out that these strange people in these strange houses were passing out bags of m&ms.

pictures to follow.

a thought: halloween is WAY better when you spend it with small children instead of adults dressed up in as little costume as possible. perhaps the slutty costume is part of the fun. . .you have to give as few clues as possible to what you are and in order to do that you wear as little as possible. . .i don't know. i do know that i didn't feel nearly as grumpy as i usually do this year.

also, enter the giveaway! it ends soon!