My Babies

Getting ready for bed tonight I sang the girls a song, and Sophie started to sing along. I told her I liked it, and that I didn't hear enough baby singing in our house.

Yes, they are 7 years old and we still refer to them as "babies." Yes, I know they are not babies. But they're still my babies even if they're not technically babies, right? Plus, how many of you got to refer to your "babies," plural? Out of my 6 loyal readers, I think none of you. Come on though, look at these faces. This is how I think of them, and probably always will. My babies.

Man, they were round weren't they? No wonder people used to remark "Those babies never miss a meal!"   

I always liked saying "babies," plural.  "I have to get home to my babies."  "Gotta go, I have to feed the babies." "Have to take the babies to the doctor." I always really liked that. It made people think. Just like when someone I don't know well, asks how old my children are, and I say "seven." Without fail, they look at me, pausing patiently, waiting for me to give them another age.  They either get it pretty quickly and say, "Oh, you have twins?" or they look at me blankly and never get it.

It's almost as good as when the babies (see, there I go again) were born and I sent out links to the newborn pictures to friends.  One (don't worry, I'm not naming names) wrote back with an obligatory, "Your baby is adorable, congratulations!" So I wrote him back and asked him which of my twins he thought was cute.

Anyway, we've asked the girls if they mind that we still call them "the babies," and they don't mind. For now at least.  I'll take that for as long as I can. And I'll keep thinking of them like this, in their "let's line up all the toys" phase.

I was a little worried about them having OCD, but it seems to have passed.  I  couldn't get them to line anything up neatly now, no matter how I bribed them.

So, back to getting ready for bed. Laura and I sing, but the girls don't sing much. I don't know why.

But tonight Sophie said, "Sometimes I sing at recess when I can't decide who to play with."

"You do?" I asked.

"Yeah, like when I promised Dorian I would play Star Wars with him. And I promised Spencer I would play tigers with him. And I promised Jordan and Zoe I would play Werewolves with them...I have so many friends, and I just can't decide who to play with, so I walk around and sing."

Well now, what a conundrum.  What a problem to have at 7 years old - so many friends to play with you can't decide who to join! I hope she always has such problems! 

But about the wandering around the playground singing to herself...if that keeps up till middle school it will probably take care of the problem of having too many kids to play with!

I love you Soph - sing away!!

Is it too soon for Halloween??

Yes, I'm aware that September has barely begun, school just started, and it's still summer weather outside.  But none of that will stop me from getting excited about Halloween.  Next to Christmas, it's my favorite holiday.  What's not to love about dressing up, scaring people, all the candy you can eat, and a good excuse for a party?

I've grown especially fond of Halloween potlucks, and creating ghoulish Halloween dishes.  Texas Chainsaw Chili? Count me in!  Bar-b-qued Bat Wings? Yes, please. Feet of Meat? Well, even I'm not sure about that one. 

But let me take you back to last year, and my winning potluck dish.  Seriously, if you haven't read this recipe for the world's best Halloween cake, you should; it's unbelievably awesome in it's Halloweenie-ness.  And here's the proof that I won the potluck.

I don't know what I'm making this year yet, but it's guaranteed to be good devilishly awesome.  Just wanted you to know I'm thinking about it; I hope you are too!

Oh, and if you want to make the Feet of Meat shown above, I'll spare you the completely-not-Halloween-related results you get by googling "Feet" and "Meat" together and just give you the link to the recipe here.  Seriously, don't google it at work. You've been warned.

Seven Going on Seventeen

Holy Crap. On Saturday I caught my seven year old wearing eye shadow. Let me repeat that for you. My seven year old. Eye shadow. Which seven year old? One guess.


Yep, this little rascal. SEVEN YEARS OLD.

On top of that, two days later she thought it would be nice to go to bed smelling like me, and took a bath in my perfume. When I came upstairs later, I could smell her from the kitchen. I could barely get close enough to pull the covers over her after she fell asleep. In the morning, she actually tried to deny it! Ummmm, honey....you stink. You can't get out of this one. She says, "wait, I forgot..." Uh huh. Right. Sure you did.

Oh help me when she's 13!

Happy New (School) Year!

Today was the first day of the second grade! I can’t believe how fast the girls have grown. Weren’t they just in pre-school?

There are still only 20 kids in the class (thankfully) 12 of whom are girls, and 5 of those are at soccer practice together twice a week. Sophie goes to practice, and we make her run with the team, but she really didn’t want to be on the team this year, so we didn’t make her. She would have liked to have been the mascot, but the under-8 teams just don’t have that position yet. I feel bad for the teacher with so many little girls who are friends all in one class. Six of these kids were all in kindergarten together too, plus there’s another from the swim team, and 2 kids from 1st grade; it’s surprising that there’s anyone in class the girls don’t already know. This teacher has her work cut out for her!














And then, after dropping the kiddos off, a bunch of us mommies went to get some coffee to break in the new school year. It was great company, and I was glad to be able to join them this year!