Last weekend, we joined some family friends for a birthday brunch. The kids (seven of them – and all good friends) out-numbered us adults, but they were all on their best behavior. And they even posed for a photo (well, sorta) for us.

-M

Zoe has long known about my dislike of traffic (occasionally even offering me de-stressing tips and reminders), and after 3.5 years, Avery has picked up on this, too. She told Q over the weekend, “Mommy doesn’t like it when people get in front of her in their car.” And on our drive to school one recent morning, she commented, “There’s a lot of traffic today. That makes me said.” (Uh-oh – I’m rubbing off on her!)

-M

I came across an interesting piece today on things not to say to a mom who works outside the home. (I don’t love the term “working mom,” because every mom works.) The author’s tone is a bit defensive, and I find it hard to believe she has personally heard all of these things (though perhaps I’m just lucky to have not encountered such judginess about my choices). But still, a few of her responses resonated with me:

I don’t know how you do it. It must be so hard. It is. I don’t know how I do it. But I don’t think that’s because I work, I think it’s because parenting is hard whether you stay at home or go off to the office. I don’t know how any of us do it. It’s glorious and rewarding and full of love and it is the hardest thing I’ve ever done. Balancing kids with anything else, whether a paying job or running a household or finding time to watch Honey Boo Boo, is nearly impossible.

…

You must be so organized to be able to balance everything. I have a love/hate reaction to this statement. At first, I bask in the affirmation. I believe I am organized. Then I remember — I am one set of lost keys away from a meltdown. I have mismatched socks, my kid went to school with jelly on his face and I haven’t exercised in a week. I have piles of books and clothes and god knows what else in my bedroom. I forgot a conference call yesterday and lost the planetarium permission slip. I let something slide every day. There is no balance. Only carefully controlled chaos. Pretty much like everyone else’s life.

…

Don’t you worry you’re missing out? Every day.  But then my son runs into my arms when I pick him up from school and climbs into my bed in the morning to tell me I’m the “best mommy ever,” and I know it’s going to be ok.

-M

There were lots of seagulls at the lake the other day, and Avery was fascinated. “There are a million of them!” she cried out at one point, before pretending to fly and declaring, “I wish I was a birdie.”

-M

During Zoe’s first year of preschool (as I’ve reminsced about here before), we had a little Friday afternoon tradition of sitting and snacking at a nearby lake. It’s been a long time since we’ve done it – Avery’s naptime and then other activities eventually interfered – but we visited after school yesterday.  (The photo taking was my idea; the posing on the bridge was theirs.)

-M

So, this is what life is like with a very inquisitive, and often very hungry, 3-year-old. I was sipping on a mango lassi (an Indian yogurt drink) yesterday afternoon when Avery approached me and peppered me with a series of questions.

“What’s that drink, Mommy?”
“Is it for grown-ups?”
“Do kids drink it?”
“Do kids like it?”
“Do I like it?”
“Mommy, can I try it?”
(And of course the last question was accompanied by wide eyes and a tilt of the head.)

Alas, Avery tried it and determined she didn’t like it. And then she ran off…

-M

This girls were particularly spunky and good-natured after school today, and I took advantage of their good moods by getting them to hug and pose for me. As Avery’s face displays in the second photo, they were more than happy to ham it up for the camera!

-M

Zoe knows I’m a sentimental mama who is prone to tearing up when reading certain stories. It made sense, then, that in the middle of my reading The Giving Tree to her and Avery last night, she stopped me, ran to her dresser and emerged holding two tissues. “Here, Mommy,” she said, “for the sad part.” I had totally forgotten how sad the book’s ending is (let’s just say the tissues came in handy!), and I was touched by the gesture.

-M

It’s common for Avery to enter our room and ask for food first thing in the morning. “I’m huuuuun-greeeeee,” she’ll call out, usually pulling at Q to direct him to the kitchen. (And once there she’ll likely ask for one of her favorite cereals, Cinnamon Life or Rice Krispies, which she calls “Rice-pees.”) She’s a huge fan of the first meal of the day, so I wasn’t surprised when I saw a poster in her classroom the other day that referenced it. She and her classmates had been asked what they were thankful for, and Avery’s quote was, “I love my sister. And I’m thankful for breakfast.”

-M

A holiday weekend meant a playdate for the girls: Halle, a friend from school (and Zachary’s little sister) spent the afternoon with us, and decorating and playing in a cardboard house was the top thing on the agenda. (Thanks, Aunt Sandy, for the gift!)

-M

Avery was particularly slow at drop-off the other morning and I had to prod her along so I could go. “C’mon, Avery, Mommy’s gotta get to work,” I told her. Her eyes got really big as she asked me, “Before the grown-ups get there?”

-M

I forgot to mention here another highlight of our time with Pop Pop last weekend: a mini birthday celebration for Q, complete with cake and lots of candles. I’m happy to report that Q managed to blow out all 40 of them.

-M

Avery has shown before that she likes to play with store mannequins (especially ones her size). She was at it again this weekend – making some new friends during a visit to Gap Kids.

-M

Thursday morning, Zoe woke up early and called me into her room. After I entered she threw her arms around me and said with a sniff, “I don’t want Mama to go!” She knew Q and I were leaving that day for a little vacation, and she was clearly feeling sad about not seeing us for two days. I assured her all would be fine, and her tears went away – but later that morning, after dropping off the girls at school, I was the one to feel sniffly. Forty-eight hours doesn’t sound like much, but it would be the longest I’ve ever been away from the girls (something that is, in my view, both pretty cool and pretty scary).

Our trip to Vegas was taken to celebrate Q’s big birthday - and was only made possible by Pop Pop, who flew across the country to babysit for us. While we were away, the girls had a blast with Pop Pop, who had his most-ever amount of bonding time with them, and Q and I got some much-needed relaxation and kid-free time. It was a trip for Q, but it did a lot for me, too: reminding me of what life was like before the girls, reconnecting me and Q, and recharging my battery. And it also made me realize how lucky I am – especially because we have family that makes a get-away like this possible. (Thank you, Pop Pop!!)

It filled me with happiness to see the girls at the airport upon our return (“I missed your faces,” I told them), and I know they were happy to see us too. And yet: I’m more than ready for the next birthday celebration or other excuse to get away. Any babysitting volunteers out there?? ;)

-M

Avery to a visiting Pop Pop (more on that shortly): “You’re a giant, Pop Pop – because you’re a big guy.”

-M