Father's Day, a Dani, Tori, and Tommy Guest Post.

Hey, Tori, I've been thinking.  Isn't Father's Day coming up?  Are we supposed to be doing something for Daddy? (Tommy)
Tommy, can't you see I'm busy playing on Mommy's tablet?  Leave me alone.  (Tori)

Oh, wait!  Tommy, you're right!  Father's Day is coming up. What should we do?
I dunno, Tori, let's ask Dani.  She knows everything.

DANI, DANI WE NEED YOUR HELP!
DEEDEE DEEDEE HEP HEP!
What do you guys want? (Dani)
Dani, it's almost Father's Day, what are we going to do???
Deede, faga day, doooo?
Don't worry guys, I've got it under control.

I'm totally online right now ordering Daddy some really cool stuff, and getting us Father's Day shirts to wear.  Tori, go in the kitchen and get me Mommy's wallet.
OK Dani.  What are we getting Daddy?
What do you think we should get Daddy? 
Let's get him some coloring books!  And some cookies.
Coookie!  Cookie!

GUYS!  We have to think about Daddy!  He's super fun, and he doesn't want coloring books!  Remember when we climbed in his shirt and we were the three headed Daddy monster?  Maybe we should get him a new shirt?
Daaaddy!  Kitty!  Funny!

 Hmmm, you're right, Dani.  I will sit here and think about it.  What can you buy for the best Daddy in the whole wide world?  He gives the best hugs.  Can we give him hugs?  He likes brownies, can we make him brownies?
Cooookies!
Now you're thinking, Tori!  We can bake him brownies.  Let me get Mommy to help.  I think we should color him some pictures too.
Crayons!  Paper!  (puts crayon in mouth)
Okay Dani, I'm going to draw a picture for Daddy.

 Daddy is good at pushing us on swings.  I will draw the playground.
Playground!  Outside! (puts on shoes)

 Daddy always takes us outside.  Remember when Tommy helped him mow the lawn?

 

When I think about Daddy, I am happy.  He is big, and brown, and tall.  He gives me kisses, and he taught me how to snap my fingers.  He plays the Beatles for me, and he gives the best hugs!

Daddy always reads books with me.  And he makes the best pancakes.  I love pancakes.

Pancakes!  Pancakes!

 

Wes,

Dani, Tori and I join Tommy in raising our sippy cups to you, this Father's Day.

I couldn't have asked for a better husband or father.  You are the foundation of this family; the solid base from which we all grow, together, learning, loving, and striving to make you proud of us, and hoping that you always know how much we truly adore you.

Weeeeekend!

I tried to make up for lost time this weekend, as I was working far too early and far too late most of last week to deal with computer network crisis after crisis.  We painted, and made crafts, and shopped, and I tried to have special alone time with each kiddo.

 Tori, our budding artist.

 I swear, this Gillibrand t-shirt is on of about a million she has, but she keeps choosing it with not even the slightest suggestion from me!

 After a trip to Target with Tommy (while the girls were napping and Wes had yard work to do) we pulled into the driveway, and the minute Tommy got out of the car, he yelled, "Daddy!"  Moments later, he was helping to mow.

 "In a few years, you'll curse me when this is really your job," said Daddy.

They are all at the perfect age--everyone loves to play (and fight, and push, and shriek, and yell, etc.) together!

Dani draws.

Me:  Dani, you drew a picture of a kid crying?  Why is she sad?
Dani: Mommy, it's Tori.
Me:  Why is Tori crying?'
Dani: She's crying because she didn't get her way.  She's crying for no reason.

The current kiddie obsession.

Mommy, we aren't Dani and Tori, we're Mario and Luigi.

Memorial Day Weekend.

I haven't taken a weekend off since I started my business in 2010. 

This weekend, I was home on Saturday and Monday.  It was pretty awesome.  Dani has gotten into the habit every day of asking whether it is a work day for me....time to spend some quality family time.  Grillin' and Chillin'.

 Lunch picnics, and backyard fun.

 City parks and slides and running and swinging.

 Sweet shadow photos as the day starts to end.

 Nothing like recharging your batteries with family.

So nice to have a weekend with Big Man and the kiddos.

Herding cats.

That's what toddler soccer is like.  When you have a fifteen second attention span, dribbling drills don't really work.

 

 Although Tori did manage to do the "put your foot on the ball when we blow the whistle" a few times.

 It's like watching a pinball game during their games.  The ball bouncing everywhere, kids running in all directions, knocking each other down, and the complete inability to kick a ball into an unmanned goal.

 At least my kids didn't cry.  There were a handful of kids that after each play would wail and run off the field because they didn't get the ball.  Dani would just pick dandelions when she got bored.  Tori kept wandering off to the sidelines to say hello to the babies in attendance.

It's fresh air and sunshine.  That's about it, which is plenty at this age.

I took Dani and Tori to check out my new office today; they love the playroom.  Then we went out to lunch--at a restaurant!  They were amazingly well behaved.  After that, we braved two stores, Target and Kohls.  As we were finishing up, I spotted a Beatles shirt in the teen section.  I showed it to Dani, and we nabbed an extra small for her.  "I like it, Mommy.  But I wish it was the Beatles without the mustaches and the shorter hair.  I like them better."

Where are you going, my little one?

Dear Dani,
It is happening too quickly.
Just a few minutes ago, I swear, I was a nervous and pregnant 35 year old, wondering how I would ever know what to do as your mom.  Wondering if I would do okay, if I would have that magical moment where I laid eyes on you and fell in love.  And I did.  Wondering if I would know how to raise you, and teach you and be your mom.  Really, it feels like yesterday.

But it wasn't.  Today I enrolled you in Pre-K.  In just a few short months, you're going to be riding a school bus, headed to school to make friends, and learn even more that you can imagine.  You're an amazing little girl--with a brain like a sponge, always learning, never forgetting, and consummately polite.  We're so proud of the girl you are becoming.

And, on days like today, it feels like you're becoming a girl too quickly, and it makes me want to squeeze you tight and ask you not to grow up, to stay my baby.

Like we sing at bedtime, "when I'm feeling sad, I simply remember my favorite things, and then I don't feel so bad".  You, my love are one of my favorite things.  My big girl is going to school.

The *mostly* perfect Mother's Day.

I am woken by Dani and Tori, stuffed animals in tow, asking to snuggle.  They climb into our bed around 7am, and hug, and hop, bounce around.  After a few minutes, I step into the bathroom to brush my teeth.  Tori sneaks in, "Happy Mother's Day!" she exclaims.  I come back into the bedroom and there are presents, lots of them, wrapped in Christmas wrap, which seems to be a trend in our house.  Dani has decorated a card, filled with pictures of people; when asked, she tells me, "This is you teaching me ballet, Mommy."

Daddy takes the trio downstairs, and I fall back to sleep.  I wake at 9:30--as a mother of toddlers, this is an all too rare luxury.  I head downstairs to check in--we all have some cereal, and I head to the shower.  We have plans.  Big plans. Stupidly risky plans.  We are taking three toddlers to a fancy restaurant for brunch.  We get dressed, do hair, Big Man sports a suit and tie.  He tells me I look pretty in my dress.

We arrive--head to our table.  I fix a pair of plates for the girls, while Big Man sits with Tommy.  As I head to fix my own, I look over at the table, all is well.  When I return, Dani says, "I don't like this, Momm-ARRRRRRGH" and she starts to puke.  Thankfully she had the linen napkin on her lap.  I catch most of it in my hands and the napkin, and a fair amount lands on her dress. No one seems to notice in those fleeting minutes. As the staff (and owner) notice I am cleaning, they ask if everything is okay.  Big Man assures them it's no reflection on the food, as I bring Dani to the Ladies room.  We rinse her dress off, wash up and are as good as new.  The table now has a pink cloth napkin at her place and all is well.  My plate of food is cold, but we're staying! 

Mother's Day Brunch, Take 2.

 

 Tommy masters the fork, and, thankfully, doesn't play the spoon/fork/plate banging game too loudly.

Tori sits like a little lady, drinking her orange juice from a tea cup.  Dani does the same.

 Tommy starts to get antsy so we head outside for some photos.  Tori is determined to clown around in every pic.

 When we could catch Tommy, he smiled and was a handsome little dude.

 Catching the three of them?  No way.  Between Tommy's need to move, and Tori's constipated face, we were doomed.

 They did slightly better when they posed with Daddy.

 This was us, headed back to the car.  Tommy was leading the charge.

 Daddy and Dani paused for a photo.

It really was a lovely day. 

 

And, I need to make a shout out to my mom.  I had a childhood full of love and creativity.  It was filled with playgrounds and beaches and adventures of all sorts.  Of songs, and stories, and unwavering love.  There were "tiger hunts" through the reeds at the beach (long before the universe was tick-paranoid) fresh air, and picnics, and just so much fun.  I am the mom that I am because of the mom that I had, and I very often think that I'm not doing it as well as she did.  Because she was awesome.  And now, she is showing that same love to my children--on the floor with them, bouncing on the beds, in the wagon to the park, and non-stop never-ending fun.  Love you Mom!

Because it's silly, silly, silly, silly, silly, silly time!

We had a zany weekend!  I spent the week and a fair chunk of the weekend moving my law office.  The kids definitely have spring fever!

It's so awesome to see how much fun they have together!

 They are loving the warm weather, and playing outside.  And running around like crazy monkeys inside!

 And Tori, who lately won't look at the camera, was quite the ham.

Tonight, when we were watching a bedtime show, she saw two characters, and remarked, "It's his best friend."  So, I asked Tori who her best friend was.  (No cute answer like it's you mommy). 

She replied, "The other Tori."

Daddy asked, "Is that the naughty Tori?"

Tori neither confirmed nor denied.

 Tommy is now nearly as big as Tori, and is totally ready to rumble with the girls.

 Bethany junior Dani is busy tattling on all of them, and being insanely jealous of any little attention they get.

Oh, and did I mention, I picked up the pre-kindergarten enrollment packet for her today.

Pre-K?

Pre-K?

Where does the time go?

 The kids were all sitting together Saturday sharing a bowl of popcorn and being silly.  Tommy kept demanding a "bite bite" and Dani would feed him.  Adorbs!

Took the girls to the new office on Sunday so they could see that there's a playroom there!  New office has as much square footage as my damn house, so I figured it was time for them to have a spot to themselves there!

Where does the time go?

 Our sweet little Tori turned three yesterday.  Three!  I swear, just a few minutes ago she was a wriggly little baby.  A quiet, easy, little baby.  Wow, that didn't last long!

She's our little free spirit.  So often silly, and almost as often mischevious.  When things get quiet, it's not because she's behaving, but because she's getting into something.  And she's just so hard to get angry at, because she is just. so. damn. cute.  It's those eyes.  Those big brown eyes that make you melt a little bit inside when you look at her.  She's the kid that strangers stop you to tell you that she is just precious and adorable.  Because she is.

She can throw a tantrum like nobody's business.  Wailing and flailing like the world is coming to an end.  But as she grew closer to three, she grew closer to the ability to reason.  When you explain the whys to her and tell her how she should be acting, she understands.  She doesn't always like it, and doesn't always do it, but she understands.  And for the zany, middle child, who is always going a mile a minute, she will surprise you with how much she knows, how much she understands.

She knows her letters and numbers to count and by sight.  And big numbers--she will hold up her Urlacher jersey and say, "I'm fifty-four, Mommy."  She will dance around and tell you she has a pelvis, and a patella, and a cranium, and point to them in turn.  She's learning about the body with our leap books, and will wiggle her fingers and tell you they are phalanges.  And, it typical toddler (silly) fashion, she describes what she learned about the digestive system...the food goes in my mouth to my BOOTY!

She's pretty much potty trained, because the reward of playing on Mommy's tablet is incentive enough to get it done. 

Adventurous in every way--from her love of broccoli, "ninos"  (tomatoes) and every fruit and veggie imaginable--to leaping in the pool, jumping on the bed, and never letting discretion be the better part of valor.

If she wakes up in the middle of the night, she ends up in my bed.  But unlike her big sister, who is happy with her own pillow and her own space, Tori insists on sharing my pillow, on snuggling so closely to me that I can feel her breathe on me.  As she starts to fall back to sleep, her arm always reaches around me as she snuggles up tight. 

Everything Tori does, she does intensely.

And her little brother adores her.

We all do. 

 For years, I've been close to an old Italian man--he's in many ways like a great grandfather to me. I bring the girls to see him every few weeks.  His name for Tori is "estrella", for star.

How fitting.  Our Tori is a star, a shooting star, bright and blazing, grabbing our attention and filling our lives with light.

And she's been doing it for three years.

Three years.

Love you, Tori.

 

Goal: Torture Mommy. Achieved.

Place:  McGhee house

Parties:  Dani, Tori and Tommy

Mission: Torture Mommy.

Result:  Success

Wow, it was a rough night.  Wes left a cold beer in the fridge.  It's like he knew it would be.

 

Most Mondays, I am home by 4:30 so Wes can get some sleep.  He works the overnight, and I do my best to get home so he can be sleeping by 5pm.  Tonight was no different, except, I was on time! (Too often my 4:30pm goal is more like 4:45 or even 5pm).  I was walking in the door by 4:30.  Wes and the kids were upstairs, as Tori was getting up from her nap.  "How perfect," I thought, as I walked upstairs, planning to change out of my work clothes and let Wes just stay upstairs to go to sleep.

 

I change and bring the kids downstairs.  Wes mentioned that Tommy may be getting hungry, so I head to the kitchen to figure out what to feed him.  I pull out items to make for dinner.  A minute later, I pop out of the kitchen to see what the kids are doing.  Tommy apparently swiped a bottle of nonpareils from the lazy susan when I was looking in the fridge--and he has emptied it all over the little tykes table and the foyer floor.  (Did I mention our house was cleaned today?)  His bib, and hands are covered with dots. I groan and walk back to the kitchen to get the hand broom and dust pan.  Hearing my dismay, Dani and Tori notice and run to the table, and start to try to lick the tasty candy dots.  Dani gags on a mouthful of dots and proceeds to take three steps and puke on the floor.  Now, I've got a pile of puke and 400,000 tiny candy balls on the floor.  I race to the kitchen to get paper towels, yelling to Tommy to stay still, so he doesn't walk through the puke.  I come back with paper towels and bend over to clean up the mess.  Tommy, seeing an opportunity, sneaks into the bathroom to splash in the toilet.  Puke cleaned, I look around and hear him.  Scoop him up, scold him, and scrub his hands.  Realize Wes said he was hungry.  Give him a large squeezable toddler pouch.  Re-evaluate the situation.  Decide the nonpariels on the floor need to be vacuumed, so grab the vacuum from the mudroom and plug it in.  Turn it on and hear Tommy wail in terror (despite the fact that the house was vacuumed today--perhaps it was his shock from seeing Mommy vacuum).  Decide he can cry all he wants, as the candy balls need to be removed.  Tommy sprints into the foyer and dining room screaming bloody murder, while squeezing his pouch and spraying the walls with blueberry-carrot goo.  Wes comes back downstairs (sorry honey) to see why, after only 15 minutes alone with the kids, there is so much commotion.  Sometimes I think he enjoys my parenting fails.  He helps by picking up Tommy and pointing out spots of goo that I missed while attempting to clean.  All is quiet for a few minutes, he heads back upstairs to sleep.

 

Now, everyone is hungry.  Tommy finishes his fruit squeezer, and Tori has one and finishes it.  Dani asks for one and I bring it into the playroom.  Tommy decides he wants that one too, and when Dani won't give it up he makes a fist and swings, connecting solidly with my right eye.  I see stars.  I get teary as I bend over in pain.  Dani starts to cry, because she thinks I am sad.  Tori starts to cry because Dani is crying.  Tommy is still crying because he's pissed that Dani has applesauce.  I flush my eye with saline (but may have a shiner tomorrow) and head to the kitchen to start to cook them dinner.

 

And how was YOUR night?

Four Generations

We took a recent road trip to Connecticut to see my soon-to-be 93 year old grandmother.  My mom had flown in to spend the week with her.  Nearly all of my Connecticut family came to visit that day, and the kids had a blast.

 Grandma was the champion bubble blower.

 Dani and Tori had made macaroni necklaces for the Grandmas, which they wore with pride.

 Tommy rockin' with his bubble microphone!

 Four generations of my family. 

 Great-grandma's house has the best stairs for sliding down!  The kids bounced down on their butts, slid down on their tummies, and had a blast.  Todd and I used to do the same thing when we were little.

 Grandma brought magic finger paints.

 And Tommy charmed the pants off of everyone!

It's so nice that my kids get to have a relationship with a great-grandparent.  I remember my great-grandpa from when I was small.  Great Grandpa Haschak lived with my grandma and grandpa until he was almost 100.  At least I think he was that old--it seems like he was, but when you are under ten, it's hard to really judge.  I remember we would go visit, and he would always be watching baseball at an incredible volume.  "HI GREAT GRANDPA!" we'd yell, and we'd sit in the room for a bit until our need to explore the house took held.  He'd always call us close for a hug, and give us a dollar.  Every time.  Despite his limited mobility, he always had dollar bills in his pockets to give to us, perhaps as a reward for keeping him company, or just to let us know he was happy we came.  And now, thirty plus years later, my children are coming back to the same house, to see their 90-something great grandmother.  The house is the same as it was when I was small.  Filled with books, trinkets, and mementos, like the home of every little old lady.  Filled also, to my children's delight, with cookies and treats, and dozens of pictures of them at all ages, and even some of their mommy when she was little.  And my frail, elderly grandma was full of hugs, and was showered with toddler love for a day, and I got to witness it, and it was wonderful.