Pretty, Happy, Funny, Real - Jan 11-17, 2015

{Pretty} More Tales of Hair

Last year, Maria's hair was long, and I loved it.   Spurred by a lice outbreak a Maria's school, I learned how to make a sock bun (keeping her hair up any out of reach of little critters).  A high sock bun became Maria's trademark hairstyle for a while. I'd do a bun and surround it with flowers and glittery bows--a folkloric look that suited my wistful, dreamy girl.

In the spring, Maria took matters into her own hands and cut her hair, ushering in the dragon hair phase followed by  a return to short hair.  We thought to grow it out, bringing a sock bun renaissance, but the winter got the better of me.  Somehow,  hair in the face makes a child seem twice as snotty and whiny as she would seem given better grooming.  So, as with the Norman haircut of yore, I picked up the scissor to appease the voices that yelled "chop it all off!"  from the backseat of my mind.  Here are the resulting two brown, bobbed heads.

Maria is already practicing for the photo on the dust jacket of her novel.

What a ham!

{Happy}

Maria and Louisa started at the Montessori school this past week.  They're excited to be going to school.  In fact, Louisa resists leaving when I arrive to pick them up.  That's not so flattering for me.

Getting back into the swing of school drop-offs and pick-ups took much of our attention the week.  There's the shuffling of winter gear, the paper work, the extra miles on the car.  But it is all still new and exciting.

With the older girls at school in the mornings, I hope to get a little time to myself (providing that Pippa naps).  Perhaps I'll be able to make headway in taming the chaotic corners (read rooms) of our house.  Perhaps we can bring a little of the order and freedom of the Montessori environment home.  That's the hope, at least.

One happy thing about our return to the Montessori School is that the girls will be able to continue their Tuesday morning Catechesis of the Good Shepard program.  I love the program and how the girls seem to be imbibing ideas in Atrium.   I love hearing Maria talking to herself off-handedly in the back of the car. "God is the sheperd and he always looks for his sheep.  I'm a sheep, baa, baa, baa!"


{Funny}

Donnie: You know why you have to stay away from sharks, right?
Loulou: Because they'll blow down your house!

So much for our girl ever being a naturalist.  One of Louisa's favorite books is The Three Little Hawaiian Pigs and the Magic Shark.

The girls have been doing a lot a doctor play lately (probably as a result of our many doctor's visits over the past month).  Louisa uses doctor as verb.  "She's sick.  I'm gonna doctor her."  Usually, Louisa's patients have fallen victim to one of two mishaps.  Either they have choked on a battery or they were bitten by a lion.


One last entry:

My solution to the crisis of keeping baby socks on babies---just use adult socks!  Works so much better!  Really, this is the kind of brilliance that can only happen at three kids in.

Pippa's sideways smile.  It's the thing of the moment.

{Real}

Our Christmas tree is still up!   A tree is such a lovely treatment for seasonal affect disorder.   And it has to be a sort of humidifier as well, right?   I haven't been able to face taking it down.  I'm waiting for the calvary to arrive in the form of my mother.

Pretty, Happy, Funny, Real - Week of Jan 4, 2015

{Pretty}
Snow dumped on us Friday morning, preventing the girls and me from attending adoration (Donnie went in our stead).  In the afternoon, the day brightened and our house was filled with winter light. It feels like with each year I become more sensitive to the lack of light in winter, so I'm grateful for that extra bit that comes bouncing off the snow.  Here are some pictures from the girls' bedroom on Friday afternoon.

{Happy}

I've been wanting to do this little craft for a while: melt crayon bits in silicon molds and make happy, chunky, rainbow crayons.  We made hearts and cars.  It's satisfying to see those molten colors and to know that after the process is completed there will be fewer crayons to be picked up off the floor.  Loulou played with them for hours after we finished them.

Loulou is eating raspberries, calling to mind the opening credits of Amelie.  You can see our heart crayon in their mold on the counter.

{Funny}

On Sunday (Jan 4), a friend held an Epiphany celebration.   I called my friend shortly before the party: "Imelda, I've just flushed a pair of underpants down the toilet, my baby has a goopy eye, and it turns out that babaganoush doesn't taste nearly as good if you sub in balsamic vinegar for lemon juice."  Imelda graciously said that we should still come, and we did, grapey-babaganoush and red-eyed baby in hand.   We were forty-five minutes late.

The celebration was beautiful.  Good company, beef strew, king cake, and Anglican rite chant--what more could you ask for? (Except, perhaps that second daughter not throw a grand mal tantrum on the way out.  That would have been nice.)

Happily, the underpants seem to have gone through to the sewer without causing a problem.  I now know more about the anatomy of a toilet.

(I should mention that Donnie was away in San Diego during this episode.  We aren't generally so scattershot when he's around.)

{Real}

Conjunctivitis! It seems to like visiting us when Donnie is traveling.   Pippa had it, then Louisa. It meant bringing the whole crew to the doctor's office twice, as well as missing a museum outing and  karate.   Happily the drops were very effective this time.  

Before getting the antibiotic drops, I tried the folk remedy using breast milk.  There's something about the act of attempting to squeeze breastmilk into the eyes of a squirming, screeching baby that drives right to the heart of the human condition--n'est-ce pas?  A life-giving substance, being used or perhaps misused.  The mother, well-intentioned, but inept.  The recipient violently protesting the administration of said substance.  The grotesque and the sublime side by side. Someone unpack that for me, please.

Pretty, Happy, Funny, Real

{Pretty}

This time last year, Maria was still in what we will call her "comestible phase."  It was all cupcakes all the time.  That's not quite right---there was the occasional glass of smoothie or chocolate milk, and once and a while, she would pencil "i heart porridge".  I wondered if she had a sugar addiction.  These days, Maria's artworks are lush with stars, planets, angels, and crazy machines. Her compositions have a satisfying, folkloric symmetry.  It has been fun to see creche scenes spouting up on papers around the house.  Here is one of our favorites.

 And here is a  drawing that we scanned and used for wrapping paper.

If you look carefully, you will find Jupiter, Saturn, astrological symbols for Mercury, and a few Christmas trees thrown in for good measure.

{Happy}

There is a book called "Mr. Wilowby's Christmas Tree." We don't know the book well because we have the French version and can only just make out the gist of the verse--but it is charming for the premise and illustrations.  The top of a large Christmas tree is lopped off to allow the tree to fit in Mr. Willowy's grand hall.  The rejected piece becomes a Christmas tree for the maid, who in her turn, lops off the top so that it will fit in her apartment.  This chain continues, with various people and then animals, using the rejected pieces of the tree and trimming and discarding the top.  At last, the very tip becomes a Christmas tree for the mice in Mr. Willowby's mansion.   

When we put up our Christmas tree on Christmas Eve, Maria asked if we could cut off the top for her.  Happily, the tree had a forked top that needed trimming.  Paschi magicked a stand, and, voila, Maria  and Loulou had their own personal Christmas tree.

Christmas Eve, after wrapping arranging presents around the family tree, I snuck into the girls' room and placed some of the smaller presents around the tree, and staged some of the girls' stuffed animals having a tea party around the base of the tree.

It was very sweet to hear the girls waking up an finding the scene.  Maria kept saying, "It's nursery magic!"

{Funny}

Donnie insisted that I share this video, which is from some weeks back.  All I can say is that I have a vitamin D deficiency and have not been cheery, cheery, cheery this winter.  In case you can't tell, that last line is "Now I have to delete this."

And here's a picture of the banditti.

{Real}

Meme and Grandpa took the older girls for three days.  It was a lovely rest, and allowed Donnie and I to tackle a few household projects.   I sorted and organized the kids' clothing.  Here's a picture from midway through the process.

 If any one knows a good treatise on how to manage children's wardrobes, I am eager to read it.  Truly, I'm not  sure whether or not this a reasonable volume of clothing for three girls (taking into account there might be more to come).  It seems entirely unreasonable when it's all heaped up.  When it's neatly folded in Sterilite, which it now is (thank you Meme and Grandpa!) it seems not so crazy--especially since we have a high attrition rate.   I got rid of a good bagful.  I had to come to terms with knowing that I will probably never be the kind of laundress who can get rid of three year old drool stains.

And I had this delicious being as a helper:

Spooks

Here are Maria and Louisa ready to go out trick-or-treating.  Maria is a ghost in a teapot.  True to form, she decided this many weeks ago.  She specified that the teapot should be decorated with "a vine, flowers, pumpkins, and cherries." When Maria's mother heard this, a nit-picky voice in her mind said, "but cherries and pumpkins aren't seasonally consistent!" But lo and behold, it turned out rather lovely.  Maria's mother now wishes she had a real teapot with this vine, pumpkin, cherry pattern.

Louisa wanted to be a ballerina.  Louisa wants to be a ballerina every Halloween from now on.  Maria, Queen of Halloween, declared that Louisa would be a cat ballerina.  Mami had a lion costume, and insufficient mindshare to make cat ears.  Louisa became a lion ballerina.  Louisa was happy.  She just wanted to wear her swimsuit with the tutu skirt.

Here is Pippa, squinting at the paparazzi.  She was was a Red Snow Queen.  (No, it's not a real thing.)

***

Halloween this year coincided with the Fall Workshop in Computational Geometry, which Donnie organized and hosted this year.  I wish that I were the type of pioneer wife who keeps the farm running smoothly while Pa is away selling the season's harvest, but alas I'm not.  We all get a bit out of kilter when Daddy is putting in long hours.  Maybe next year, we'll have our costumes ready more than fifteen minutes before it's time to go!

Still, our tea pot ghost was very ghosty and our dancing lion was awfully cute, and the Red Queen was happy in her carrier.

The neighborhood kids went out en masse.  That made it safer and more fun for everyone.  Our street is a favorite shortcut for people getting on and off of campus.  One parent, a veteran of many Halloweens in the neighborhood, had the good sense to bring a kerosene lamp.  The group of kids was flanked by parents who carried lights and shouted at cars to slow down.    Maria ran ahead to keep up with the older kids.  Loulou, Pippa and I trailed behind.  Loulou was a little daunted by the unfamiliarity of the ritual.  With the darkness, the wind rattling through the leaves of the tree, the  lights of the flashlights bobbing on the pavement, the strangers handing out candy, and Maria's disconcerting absence (she was safe, but out of sight with the group ahead of us)  I shared Louisa's mood.  It began to rain as we rounded in on our  house.  We were happy return home, ditch the costumes and break out the Snickers.

Homely House

Two weeks ago, Donnie and I became the owners of this pretty property. Here are some photos--before we paint the walls and disturb its serenity by actually moving in:

Living Room

Downstairs bathroom

View from kitchen into dining area

dining area

Loulou, okay, despite run in with electrical socket.  Ritual fast food.

Master bedroom

Girl's room

Upstairs bathroom

"sewing" or baby room

I've come to think of it, affectionately, as "Homely House," after Rivendell in the Lord of the Rings.   Rivendell is the "Last Homely House of the Western Wood".   I dare not call our homely house the last homely house, lest I insult our neighbors, but it is homely, in the best sense of the word--cozy and comfortable, and just right for us.

We're excited that it's a mere twelve minute walk to Donnie's office.  It also shares the University's water and sewer system--no septic tank!   It has three bed rooms, a den and a tiny sewing room that we plan to use for the baby.  It fits our family beautifully, with a little room to grow.  The house is in very good shape, but there are a few things to do before we move in---some electrical work, and some painting.  (My hat goes off to all you diy-ers.  just choosing the right white for the living room walls has proven to be a drawn-out, multi-step process. )

Though we are very happy with the house, our tenure as homeowners had a rocky start.  Loulou stuck a paper clip into an electric socket at the lawyers office during the closing, resulting in two burned fingers (fortunately not serious).  We went to visit the house after the closing, and in the rush to get Maria onto the potty, I broke the key in the deadbolt.  Maria ended up marking the territory in the front yard--sort of fitting, don't you think?

This marking of territory was followed by a ritual survey of the domain.  We wandered from room to room, coming to grip with the fact of ownership.   "Look, I never noticed that old, cloudy mirror.  Well, I guess it's now our cloudy mirror. The wood grain on that door looks like a gargoyle face.  Now it's our door, our gargoyle face.  That cracked switch plate is ours to replace.  The stuck door is ours to fix." 

I found my mind rushing to establish whether these things were friend or foe--will the mirror need to be removed?  Will the gargoyle become a source of irritation or a friendly sentinel?  Ah, these new decisions.   The switch place must be replaced, the door fixed.  The house is owned, but not yet won.  We will wage a campaign of Spackle and paint, and send box after box of our possessions to settle the territory.

Hopefully the result of the conquest will be a house like Rivendell:

"That house was, as Bilbo had long ago reported, 'a perfect house, whether you like food or sleep, or story-telling or singing, or just sitting and thinking best, or a pleasant mixture of them all'. Merely to be there was a cure for weariness, fear, and sadness."

Here's to our very own Homely House!

Some Color

Here is a little bit of color to start the day.  We've had some gray days--but the increasing temperatures outside have our spirits up.  This week, we've been spending time at the playground after Maria's pickup from school.  It's muddy, and has lead to some sleep disruption by delaying L's afternoon nap, but we are grateful for the vitamin D. 

Pippa's blue eyes still surprise me.  That baby knows how to mesmerize her Mama!  She makes the most delightful coos and gurgles lately.  She seems so intent to communicate---I keep expecting her to come out with a word.   She's also doing a lot of hand-sucking these days, and with the drool comes the need for frequent costume changes.  This puts new strain on our already faltering laundry routine, but leads to some more colorful ensembles like the one above.

Loulou has been become opinionated about her clothing  and is becoming ever bolder about "borrowing" her sister's clothing.  Here she wears Maria's down vest, which goes down to her calves.  She is also going through stocking phase---"I wanna see my legs."  Do I see wardrobe wars in the future?    I have given up trying to alter her choices, since they are often more attractive and interesting that what I would have chosen.  I also realize that everyone loves to see a little person acting with such freedom.

Give Us a (Paint-Covered) Hand

Auntie Colleen needed pictures of kids with paint-covered hands for her website. I did  a couple paint and photo sessions with the kids, and they were bemused to find their mother painting their hands instead of wiping them.  These are the best.   The ones with Maria didn't come out.   It's surprisingly tricky to get a kid to look cheerful, sit in good light, and point her palm at the camera!  The smile comes from looking at the paint on the palm, I suppose.  In the first picture of Loulou, she's doing the "Here is the church, here is the steeple" hand game.  I'm glad to have caught it on camera.