In the Past Month

Tomorrow Allie starts 1st grade. On Wednesday of this past week we actually stopped over at the school to meet her teacher and drop off her school supplies. Her teacher is a doll, so all is well at this point. But I am not looking forward to having to adhere to a schedule again. The freedom of the summer was glorious-- waking up after 7am, lingering around the house in my PJs, not having to cart the girls to dance lessons (and force Drew to miss his nap-- oy), etc. Other than the moments of drama and sibling arguments, it really has been a fun summer... and I will miss having Allie and Sami around. Sami will definitely miss Allie this week, since she doesn't start preschool until the next, and so will I since Sami will probably be begging me to play with her the whole week. But I am looking forward to that one-on-one time with Drew when she goes back to school, since this year he isn't taking a morning nap to eat up all that free time while Sami is gone. I've signed him up for parent/tot swim lessons that start next week as well. Hopefully he won't try to drown himself like he usually does.

That little boy... Allie and Sami were never as physical as he is, nor were they ever as interested in violence. The kids really don't watch much TV-- maybe some PBS or Qubo cartoons. But we have been watching Billy Quan videos on YouTube lately. I remember watching Billy Quan with my brother on Bill Nye the Science Guy, and Kevin remembers them from a Seattle comedy show from the 90s, Almost Live! My dad reminded me of them in lieu of a Father's Day Kung Fu e-card I had sent him. Think of the corniest English-dubbed Japanese movie you can, add some silly dialogue and comical slapstick and you have Billy Quan. Drew loves these things. He pleads with me in his intense, raspy voice to watch them ("Bi' Q'an! Mama, Bi' Q'an!"). When I cave in, and lift him to see the computer screen, he beams and wiggles excitedly when he hears that fake Japanese accent-- "It's time for... Mind Your Manners with Billy Quan. Today's episode... 8 Ball of Fury." A few weeks ago, all five of sat in front of the laptop and watching probably four or five short episodes. When the last one finished, Drew, who was sitting in Kevin's arms, turned to his dad, and karate-chopped Kev's face with both hands while yelling "H-ya!" Yeah... I felt like a bad mom... until my own mom told me he probably would have come up with that move on his own anyway.

Aside from spending too much time watching Billy Quan this month, the girls had another session of swim lessons, and "aced" it. Seriously, they did really well. I'm not saying they're going to be Olympic athletes or anything, but my definition of "doing well" is being willing and obedient, and they were both. Their teachers absolutely loved having them in their classes because they would actually listen and cooperate... and have fun, to boot! It's nice to know they really do know how to cooperate. I'm hoping someday they apply that skill at home.

They also got to go on another bowling outing with Sabrina and James. Bowling isn't too much fun for Drew yet. I spent most of the time keeping him out of other lanes, or watching his little fingers as he played with the other bowling balls on the shelf. The big kids just took their turns rolling the ball down the kiddie ramp, the ball bouncing lightly off the bumpers... just to get spare or the rare strike. And aside from the teenager sitting at the stools behind us occasionally blaring out profanity, we had a good time.

Kevin attended Scout Camp for the fifth time since his call as the Scoutmaster in our ward five years ago. It seemed like they all had a good time. Although it is always a long week having him away, all the swim and singing lessons help break it up a bit. That Friday I also took the kids to the stake center across from the temple in Orlando to watch Jill's kids so she could attend a session. Both our husbands were gone, as was the other family that's part of our temple group, so I only had to watch my three and her two. We decided to make a day of it, and head over to Downtown Disney afterward with the intention to eat at McDonald's and let the kids play. Too bad McDonald's had been closed down for some reason. So instead, we ate at T-Rex, a ridiculously expensive dinosaur-themed restaurant that had a "thunderstorm" every 25-30 minutes where every mechanical dinosaur or creature in the place roared and chittered and chattered. After an hour, the kids were finally used to it, and stopped screaming in fear for their lives every time it happened. Oh, and the service was slow. We didn't get out of there till nearly two hours later. Then a quick visit to the Disney Princess store, and then we drove home. Good friends are priceless!

Earlier in the month for Independence Day, we went to see the fireworks down by the Indian River. A couple young women handed out small American flags to wave, and another group of young men sold glow-in-the-dark bands. The girls asked us for the bands, and we said "no." A family near us had bought some for their kids, and Allie and Sami watched them play with their new toys happily. Suddenly the mother approached me and asked if she could buy one for each of our girls. She was so sincere, and I thought the offer was kind, so I said it was okay. But the fireworks started not too long after that. They were pretty good, in spite of the rain that had poured down all day long. We endured some sprinkles, but nothing that drenched us.

And once again we have a rainy Sunday! Thank goodness! We have been battling chinch bugs in our lawn because it has been so dry. But I love the rain, too, because it cools things off... and because the day seems so peaceful to me. Life just seems to slow down a bit when it rains. Half of us are taking naps-- Drew, Kev, and Mallory, who came for a last-minute visit this week-- Allie and Sami are playing fairly quietly, and I have a moment to sit down and write.

The Joy of Singing

Since June, Allie has been taking a group singing class over at the Henegar Center in Downtown Melbourne. My friend Rosie from the Chamber Singers teaches the class. Yesterday morning, the kids had their recital, performing the spirituals they had learned, as well as the hand bell pieces. The recital was also a variety show, showcasing special numbers the kids themselves had prepared. After two weeks of mulling it over, Allie decided on "Castle on a Cloud" from Les Miserables. She sang it beautifully! And I give her a huge "kudos" for having the courage to get up and sing it in front of a huge group of people. But we had a talk about how the gift of singing is meant to be used to bring joy to others (as well as ourselves), and performing for others is how we can do just that. We prayed that she would just have fun and do her best. And she did! Yea, Allie! For some reason, though, she was a bit softer on her solo than she was during the group numbers, but she still did fantastic. What a great kid!

Allie and her singing teacher Mrs. Cocker

Pixie Hollow

Allie and Sami have an obsession with anything girlie. Barbies, princesses, dresses, the color pink... and fairies. Well, perhaps I need to be more specific-- excuse me... (a-hem) Disney fairies. You know, Tinkerbell and all of her fairy friends from Pixie Hollow that the geniuses at Disney created to milk even more money out of the families whose daughters are also already obsessed with the Disney princesses.

Last Sunday, after spending a good hour after church coloring in a Tinkerbell coloring book, Allie came to me as I sat on the couch glancing through my Cooking Light magazine.

"Mom, can we make Pixie Dust?" I looked at her, and she proceeded to explain how she and Sami wanted to go to Pixie Hollow, but they had to jump into the picture in the book, and couldn't do that without Pixie Dust to sprinkle on their heads. Honestly, my first instinct was a big fat "No way! What a mess!" but I decided not to respond that way. After listening to her explanation, I thought I would humor her. "Okay, Allie, let's go in the kitchen."

I poured salt in a bowl (I figured salt would be less sticky and messy than sugar), dyed it golden yellow with food coloring, and finished it off with a bit of glitter. Voila! Pixie Dust! The girls grabbed their magic wands, and cast some spells and did some dances to make the Dust "work." Then they grabbed the coloring book and went out to the driveway (which is where I banish the children who want to sprinkle Pixie Dust--- I don't want that nasty stuff in my house).

They placed the open book on the ground, sprinkled themselves liberally with Pixie Dust, held hands, counted to three, closed their eyes, and jumped onto the book. Naturally, nothing happened. They opened their eyes and peeked out. Then their shoulders slumped, and Allie's face scrunched up. "Maybe we need to more Pixie Dust..." So they each put another tablespoon each on their heads. Sami had the brilliant idea to pray. Kevin made the comment after viewing the pictures, that he's never seen them so reverent. Can you blame them? This is serious business! Another count to three and a leap on the book and... nothing. They were overcome with despair... until they realized that (duh!) they needed to be in "nature clothes" to go to Pixie Hollow. So into the house, off with their dresses, and into their "nature" dresses.

For good measure, they went about the house gathering any fairy books they could find, as well as their Tinkerbell and Queen Clarion (the queen of Pixie Hollow) dolls. Once they went back outside, they piled their fairy objects on top of the book... perhaps to let the fairies know that they were friends and meant them no harm. Actually, I guess I'm not really sure what they were doing. All I know is that they were desperate. Allie yelled, "We're coming, fairies!" And again with the sprinkle of dust (the rest of it, actually), the holding hands, the count to three, and the jump. After the third failed attempt, they tried one more time...

Sami wasn't really all that surprised it didn't work, but she pretended to be upset. Allie shed some tears as they gathered their things and walked back into the house.

We then sat on the bed and had a discussion about what the scriptures say God really created. I pointed out that the book of Genesis doesn't mention fairies, letting her draw her own conclusions. She wasn't too thrilled with that...

... until I offered the girls an ice pop. Then all was water under the bridge.

A Sami-ism

I just walked into the kids' bathroom to find Sami and Allie in there brushing their hair. Sami's hair was unusually parted down the middle, and she was smoothing it behind her ears. I said, "What are you doing to your hair, Sam?"

"Making it look like a Rock 'n' Roll star."

Ah. I see.

Blah

Yesterday was one of those days when I felt, well, blah. Some might define that as "discouraged" or "frustrated" or lethargic," but I think "blah" is much more descriptive, don't you?

It all comes down to our girls.

Their bickering infuriates me. But their complaining exhausts me.

In the afternoon, Allie came running in the kitchen from the porch with Sami trailing close behind. "Mom, can we have ice cream?" I looked at her with a raised eyebrow and reminded her that we had finished all the ice cream last night.

"That's great..." She jumped up in the air, "...because the ice cream truck is coming! Can we get some ice cream?"

Now let me preface my response with my usual policy with ice-cream-truck ice cream... I don't buy it. Granted, I have actually done it once, maybe twice, but no more than that. And the ice cream truck has come around our street dozens of times.

I continued to wipe the counters. "No, Allie. No ice cream right now."

Sami responded perfectly. "Okay." And she walked away.

But not Allie. She folded her arms and scrunched up her face. "That's what you always say! You never buy us ice cream! It's not fair!" I stopped and looked at her like she was crazy, especially since we had just finished up a half-gallon of ice cream the night before! And then Sami came back to get in on the action. "Yeah, Mom, you never get us ice cream!" What the--?

I told them to either leave the room or be quiet about it. They actually stopped talking about it, and I could continue with my work in the kitchen.

In the evening after we finished dinner Allie piped up, "Can we go to an ice cream shop?" Kevin sighed and responded, "No, Allie, we're not going to an ice cream shop."

"Dad, I wasn't asking you!" Right. If I had responded, I'm sure she would have had the same comeback ready for me. And like my answer would be any different! So she looked at me.

"No, Allie, no ice cream." Again, her arms folded and she stomped around. We tried to explain to her why ice cream was a special treat and why we didn't feel it necessary to eat all the time.

At bedtime, after we had said family prayers, I said, "Okay, get in bed." Allie asked why no books before bed. I said, "Look around the house... Does it look clean to you?" There went her arms and face again. Yes, it's our family policy that if their toys aren't cleaned up by bedtime, they get no bedtime stories.

Honestly, after the kids were in bed, I went back to our room and sat on our bed. Blah. I told Kevin that in many ways I felt terribly emotionally abused. On a daily basis I will hear both "I love you, Mommy! You're the best mom ever!" and "I hate you, Mom! You are so mean! You're the worst mom ever!" within hours of each other. And as much as I love roller coasters, being on an emotional roller coaster is torture.

Sigh.

This is a time when I wish I could send them off to Grandma's house for a day.