Quirky is her middle name

Whenever I see Elizabeth, she complains about not being on the blog enough. She says she only wants to see me so she will be prominently featured and complains when I don't mention her enough. To avoid any such complaints from the peanut gallery this visit, I'm knocking out the post about her at the beginning of the trip.

(She says, "I do not complain! Don't tell the people that! I am a loyal and devoted fan!" Devoted fan she may be, but naggy nonetheless.)

Elizabeth is very quirky. She's constantly crawling through tunnels, telling strangers about her health issues and knocking on doors asking if she can have flowers from peoples front yards. In other words, she's nothing like me. Last night she went to a rock climbing gym to cheer on refugee children as they learned rock climbing. I think it's ironic refugee children were being taught to climb a wall, but that's neither here nor there.

On Sunday night she brought us to a secret garden. It's hidden in a normal neighborhood and you'd drive right by unless you're in the know. It has acres of paths through the woods with animal statues, garden figurines, fairy gardens, signs, and fountains. It was so cool.

Baby Ivy met us there. She says she's not a baby anymore but lalala I'm not listening.

If it's wet, it's raining.
If it's white, it's snowing.
If it's moving, it's windy.
If there's a leaf on it, it's Autumn.
If it's not visible, it's pretty darn foggy.
If it's dry and still, just wait a minute. It's a mistake and will change soon.

Tuesday she brought us to the town's media center to watch the taping of an interview with a town councilman because why not. I was skeptical we would be allowed in but she waltzed through the parking lot with AB in tow while I brought up the rear several feet behind. There's a fine line between being close enough to Elizabeth in case her wild ideas are well received and being far enough back that you don't seem too involved if things go south. On the slim chance we would be interviewed, I poured water on my hand and washed the strawberry juice off Annabelle's face. I don't like when kids are dirty and no child of mine will begin her television career with strawberries on her face and shoulders. I had already reapplied my lipstick because like they say on airplanes, take care of your own cosmetic needs before attending to the cosmetic needs of others. The lady in the office showed us the studio where the recording was taking place and the office where they keep the equipment. It was very interesting but sadly we were never asked to take a seat in front of the camera.

One of Annabelle's favorite games to plane with me is airplane where I lay on my back and lift her into the air on my feet. We have the regular version and the sitting version with a fancy flip landing at the end. Sesame asked me if I could do airplane with Elizabeth and yes, I can. 

The fancy flip at the end was a huge crash but that's what she gets for wearing kneehigh white socks from a package that was supposed to be given to a homeless shelter. 

our best friendship of 28 years is going strong

As has become our late spring/early summer tradition, AB and I traveled to Massachusetts for our twice-yearly visit.

The trip here was filled with quite a bit of metaphorical turbulence. 

We've flown so often we have a pretty good system down. I know I need to have extra patience and be 300% on. Not only do I need to keep her occupied for hours, I need to keep her safe. It's a lot of work but we usually make it with little to no issues (unless someone throws up in which case BIG issues). We didn't get delayed or have air sickness, but every other little thing that could go wrong went wrong. I went to bed at 10 the night before we left but didn't fall asleep until 2:30. I got up at 4am. For those doing math at home, that's one and a half hours of sleep. It was barely a nap. Annabelle had gotten up at 4:30am and by the time we were about to board the second plane, she had been wide awake for nearly five hours, eaten two breakfasts, played with all the toys we brought, rubbed her hands on the toilet seat, smelled her strawberry-scented jelly shoes 15 times an hour and flopped down on the carpet in the boarding area. I barely had the energy to correct her. She talked nonstop the entire time she wasn't sleeping. I was not in the mood to talk which presented an issue. 
We got on the plane and were settled in when two ladies said we were in their seats. I didn't realize we had seats 34C and 35C instead of seats in the same row. We moved, then the ladies moved, then their friend in row 33 moved. It was musical chairs in the crowded plane aisle. We're all going to the same place and getting there at the same time so why does it matter if the seats are wrong? Honestly, I would have been happy to hand Annabelle off to someone in row 34 while I relaxed in row 35. 

We seldom travel with a car seat but I did this time since I was renting a car. I didn't factor having to carry the car seat as well as our two bags and carry on, so I looked like a pack mule. A kind TSA agent took pity on me and asked if I needed help. I said we were trying to get to Enterprise and he looked at our mound of possessions, looked at AB and her flipped over unicorn suitcase and told us where to find a shuttle that would take us to car rental. I almost kissed the feet of the man driving the shuttle. I would have been 35 years old if we had to walk there. There were several issues with getting the rental car but I finally got on the road. I put the address in the gps and somehow ended up with directions to Greece. 

It was worth all the angst and frustration because look who we were reunited with the next day after two years apart- my very best friend Katie.

She gained a child and I gained several pounds in our two years apart, but we're just as close as ever. We picked up right where we left off and stayed up late at night eating ice cream. We had so much to catch up on. We had a rocky start with the girls because Annabelle started crying the minute we arrived to pick them up, but she recovered and they had a great time. 

It's so much fun to see them together. It was especially fun since they got to play at the same lakehouse Katie and I played at 23+ years ago. They were sleeping in separate bedrooms but had the classic sleepover conversation of "if I wake up first I'll wake you up, but if you wake up first then wake me up." Last time we visited, AB was in diapers. This time we set out breakfast on the table at night and told them to have at it and serve themselves breakfast in the morning. It was a new dawn of parenting. 

The first full day we visited the beach in the rain. We said we'd visit for just a few minutes didn't bother bringing the kids a change of clothes. What a rookie mom mistake. Of course they went in the water, rolled in the sand and got wet! We let them get as wet and dirty as they wanted. We live so far apart and never get to see them, so this was a fun memory to make. We wrapped everyone up in towels and listened to the new Aladdin soundtrack on the way back to the house.

God bless Massachusetts and God bless a Dunkin Donuts that makes good ice coffee.

Currently- the mid-June edition

Listening to: new podcasts. I've added the following to my regular rotation- 

Kind World. The episodes are all less than 10 minutes, but each one is someone telling the story of how another person's kindness impacted their life. I love it. Most of the episodes are interviews with people from Boston which is the cherry on top.

Every Little Thing is one of the educational podcasts I've started. The episodes discuss topics such as how to get paid to clap on tv or why baseball stadiums have organs. I listen to the episodes then pass along the information to my family as if I spent hours researching. 

Ear Hustle. It's produced by a man in prison with the help of a woman who works there. For unknown reasons, I have a deep fascination with prisons. It's such a foreign life and while I hope my recent life of crime never lands me in jail, I'm very interested in the goings on there.

Reading: Murder by Family by Kent Whitaker. Kent's son orchestrated the killing of his mother, brother and attempted but failed murder of Kent himself. I remember hearing about the story when it happened a few years ago and saw someone mention the book a few weeks ago. I brought it camping and while it wasn't a breezy beach read, I devoured it. The author talks about how he forgave the killers in the hospital before he knew about his son's involvement. He goes into detail about how forgiving his son doesn't mean he was any less devastated by the actions, but gave him the ability to grieve without also harboring hatred which would only bring him more pain.

On to lighter things! No need to talk about murderers anymore.

Taking: step classes. I don't recommend it to anyone. It's so frustrating, hard to keep up with and so hard.

A mom from school invited me to a class and I thought, why not? What's can go wrong? I'll tell you what might go wrong. You might miss the step and slip off the side. You might get your legs twisted up and look like a Twisler. You mistakenly face right when everyone is facing left which means suddenly you're face to face with the rest of the class. Especially don't go to the class with the two pregnant ladies in the front row. You'll feel really bad about yourself when they're doing full pushups on the floor and you're doing half pushups on the bench because it saves you from having to lower your body the additional 4" to the floor.  I thought I'd be ok at step since I'm fairly decent at zumba but no way, Jose. If you mess up in zumba you can say you were being moved by the music. If you mess up in step you're screwed AND ASK ME HOW I KNOW. 
All that being said, I've gone to five classes. My personal rule is to not do any type of exercise I don't like, but I need to get in shape and zumba and strolls around the pond aren't cutting it. So I continue to go but not have a good attitude. In fact, I was so frustrated this week that I told the teacher I had to leave 15 minutes early because I had an appointment. I didn't let her know it was an appointment to sit in my car and make myself think happy thoughts.

Misunderstanding: the Bible study book. The lady leading the study said the book was about Jeremiah, but I got to chapter 7 with nary a word being said about Jeremiah. I was so confused but since I missed the first 4 meetings I thought maybe I missed how Jeremiah tied in. I am BY FAR the least holy in the group, so I didn't want to ask for clarification and tell them I didn't understand the entire book.  It wasn't until last week that I looked at the cover and realized that it was written by David Jeremiah. It wasn't about the Jeremiah in the Bible. Drop me an email if you want me to bring my knowledge of all things biblical to your church group.

Proud of: AB's generous heart. I told her we should make thank you cards for her VBS teachers but it was such a busy week I forgot. All week at art camp she had been collecting "treasures". They were sequins, buttons, tiny pieces of paper and ribbons she picked up off the floor. As we left VBS on the last night, she said she found a treasure in her pocket and gave it to Miss Robin as a thank you. She said she thought a good way to thank her would be by sharing her treasures. She's such a little lovebug.

Giggling at: 

In which AB requests to be interviewed but things go off the rails

What do you want to talk about?
About my school.
What about it?
It's fun. It's work through play. I like my friends. (She means learning through play.)
Who were your best friends there?
Teagan, Luke, Victoria and Arya. All three of them. Actually, just Victoria and Arya.
How did you like your old school?
It was fine. It was work like a boarding school.
How do you know what boarding school is like?
Cause I know all about it. Cause I heard of it before from Christopher Robin. If you wanted to be on an interview blog, whose blog would you want it to be? You type quickly. Are you supposed to type quickly?
Who's doing the interview here?

What makes you scared or lonely?
What makes me feel lonely is if you're at work and I'm at home and I kinda get a little worried about you. That makes me sad and lonely.
What makes you feel brave?
To have courage.
What is courage?
I don't know. Do you?

Tell me about your imaginary friends.
Ralph and Leah are on vacation but they're coming home. They'll meet us at MA. Massachusetts is fun at Grammy's apartment. Me and my Aunt Squiddzen go and have a lot of adventures together. Like one time we explored a tunnel. I will never go in there again!

Tell me a story about your life.
One time, it was the night before my birthday and I didn't want to turn 5.
Why not?
Because I liked being 4!
Do you not like being 5?
I do. The one thing I'm glad about being five is I can go to the Home Depot kids making things. I went just a couple days ago!

What's your favorite color?
Magenta and blue and green and purple. Dark, dark, dark, dark, dark purple. Look at the cats! They're sleeping!

Can you tell me a joke?
Do you remember the joke of gobble, gobble, google? Here's another joke about z,z,z. What did the zebra do all night? Zzz, zzz, zzz! Sleep!

If you wrote a book what would it be about?
It would be about soggy, wet, scratchy blankets on top of a blankie, on top of a blankie, on top of a blankie! Then there would be a whole stack on top of soggy, wet, scratchy blankets! Isn't that funny. Or I'd write about the Watermelon Princess and the surfing hampster. 

What kinds of things do I like to do?
You like to hold me. And you like to go in drawers. You go in there and snooze all day and never get any work done. 
I've never snoozed in a drawer!
I know but it's a silly answer! You like Daddy. You like black things and sparkly things. 
Who taught you how to wave like the queen?
You did.
What else have I taught you?
That feathers are made from birds. That if you put your fingers across it, you don't have a messed up feather anymore. You want me how to talk. How to write an A. How to say "hi Daddy." How to groom the cat's fur. How to read. 
What are your favorite things to do with me?
Tag and tickle and tickle tag! I like to spend time with you playing tickle and airplane.
How old am I?
48.
What size shoe do you think I have?
890? Maybe size 1.
How old is Dad?
45.
How strong is Daddy?
So strong! Like, a zillion strong! So strong.
What do you like to do with Daddy?
Get presents for you. Go to Home Depot and make the kids activities. 

I'm going to ask you some questions about America.
America! You know all about America! If I were you I'd spell my name.
Why would I spell your name when we're talking about America? 
It has hair.
What does?
America! It has hair! It has ears! America has cats scratching it all the time! 
Where does the president live?
In the 1890's? Or the 1880s. Get it?
No, I don't. I mean, what's the name of his house?
The Black House! I mean, the White House.
What is his wife called?
The First Lady. Can you read me this interview?

***

"Mama, what's squash bubbling?"
"Squash bubbling? Is it something in cooking? Where did you hear it?"
"It was in the Peter Pan movie. They were squash bubbling."

"I think the word is swashbuckling."
''That's what I said. Squash bubbling."
 

"I used midge pod at VBS. Do you ever use midge pod?"
"What's midge pod?"
"Do you mean modge podge?"

I hope she always mispronounces words.

my first writings as a 30 year old

As of the 28th of May, I am officially old. The big 3-0. Feel send me all manner of walkers, canes, orthopedic shoes and hard candies. I'll be at Walgreens buying a large pillbox for all my medications.

Christopher says 30 isn't old, but it's easy to talk that way when you're not the one with long gray hairs and a rapidly lengthening anti-wrinkle skin care routine.

Our camping trip was partly for my birthday so we were very low-key on the actual day. I had to dispose of a dead mouse in the mouse trap immediately upon waking followed by being sneezed on by Linus. What a lovely start to the day! After AB's swimming lesson, I went to the flower shop to buy myself birthday flowers. I should have said I wanted to order a bouquet and moved on with life, but I added unnecessary details about them being a birthday gift to myself and I don't want lilies and I was going to go to the other flower shop but decided on them because their building was on the same side of the street that I was already on, blahblahblah. She asked if I wanted to include a card but I said no. Again, I was sending them to myself so I was expecting them.

I feel very wise now that I've entered a new decade. I shared quite a bit of knowledge with Andrew, Elizabeth, and Christopher. Some are more receptive than others, but I press on. I'm sharing so many pearls of wisdom they're about to make a full pearl necklace.

Annabelle was in charge of decorating the cake because she knows where the candles are and Christopher doesn't. She asked how many candles I wanted and said 30 might be too many. I agree. I'd need an oxygen tank to blow out all those candles.

I feel like I had more birthday things to document but I don't remember what they were. It was 10 days ago but feels like 70 years.

Speaking of time, it's flying but simultaneously creeeeeping by. Annabelle was only been out of school for two years. I legitimately thought it was a month ago. In those two weeks, I've had a birthday, gone camping, done art camp and VBS, put an offer on a house, embarrassed myself in public multiple times, racked up $18.50 in library fines because I got the return date wrong, crawled through the spider-infested woods next to the house several times to catch Linus after he escaped, caught three mice in mouse traps and made the kitchen spotless for a few minutes. That was worth recording.

I didn't plan on volunteering at VBS but as these things always go, I got sucked in because I can't say no. My plan was to bring AB to VBS at our old church 7 minutes away and spend time at home painting my nails/cross stitching/napping while she was learning about God. Instead, we're at a VBS half an hour away and I've stayed every night to help watch the babies. My friend said she needed help "for one night'' in the nursery. She promised me 5 tiny babies under the age of one. That was false advertising. There are no tiny babies. We have three little girls between the ages of 16-21 months. They are very cute and I'd like to bring Cordelia home with me, but it's been 20 hours of free childcare in 5 evenings. I am, to use our family word for tired, Snooped Dogged. My friend suggested we do foot and handprint art with them and asked if I was good at painting. What I should have said was no. What I did say was I've been doing footprint art since Sesame was one month old so no problemo. I'll do it all. No worries. The moms will love them. I've never done it before, but surely I can turn a footprint into a parrot. How hard can it be?

Evidently very hard.

I have never been more dissatisfied with how artwork has turned out. We started them on Tuesday night and I could not for the life of me make them look good. I kept adding paint in hopes they would improve, but they didn't. The angle of the footprint was off. I couldn't blend the colors well. I didn't want any parent to see them. I was annoyed with myself all night. When I saw them again on Wednesday night I will say they looked slightly better than I remembered. Still NOT great, but time healed my injured artist heart slightly.

I went to Joanns yesterday for new canvases. I was determined to redo the art, even though none of the kids liked paint on their feet. Sometimes making art is painful, kids! We made footprint bunnies which turned out a million times better. While Annabelle was learning about John the Baptist, I was in the nursery learning to not boast about my paintbrush skilz.