Sooo? Whatcha Been Doin’?

Well, I’ll tell ya…

I got a job and I love my job, but it keeps me busy and so I haven’t been blogging. Or writing much, really, except for journaling when I think of it.

I’ve been reading. Currently I’m reading Runaway, a collection of short stories by Alice Munro, which I am loving. I had veered off my preferred sunlit and wildflower-lined path of short-story writing to spend some time in the murky swampland of poetry and am hopeful that reading stories will start the story cogs running again. So far, so good. I have this idea…

I did get a couple of worthwhile poems out of my detour. I’ve never been able to say that before!

Oh, and this:

The girls’ school has a sort of “gallery crawl” every spring. Guest artists spend the month of February working with a class on some sort of project to be showcased in March at the crawl (in the rooms and halls of the school). I spent February turning a classroom full of 1st, 2nd, and 3rd graders into published poets. It was a lot of fun (I am REALLY glad it’s almost over). This could be what inspired my longing for prose again…

If I can stay off Facebook – well, cut back on my FB time (can’t abandon my WWF friends and everyone needs to see photos of Pete and Lulu doing awesome Pete and Lulu stuff), maybe I can trade it for blogging again. I’ve missed it.

How about you? What have you been up to?

Now to go get my readers back…

That’s Some Bad Hair, Harry

Have you ever gotten a bad haircut? The kind where you’re just miserable and want to hide from everyone until it grows out? It’s awful!

I had been wondering since that day mid-winter when the city had been shut down from snow/ice for 3 days and I cut my bangs in a frenzy of stir-craziness, whether I might want all of my hair short. So early his summer, I got my hair cut off. I didn’t do it right, though. I went to one of those places where the cuts cost $13, and… well… You get what you pay for…

I swear the stylist got bored or something in the middle of my cut and just gave up because my hair wasn’t remotely even anywhere on my head. There were places she clearly neglected to cut. But I didn’t know this while I was still there to tell her to fix it or to ask for another stylist. It was so different from what it had been and I mistakenly trusted that she knew what she was doing, and I left with what turned out to be a huge mistake. HG said I should go back and make her fix it, but I wasn’t letting her touch my hair again. I spent $45 getting it fixed by a stylist I trust, but even that wasn’t exactly right. He left it too long in the back and too short on the sides, all mullet-y and wrong. I found myself saying to people who complimented me on my new look, “Thanks. I’m growing it out.” Or something along those lines.

The worst part was, though, that I didn’t believe my hair looked good. It startled me every time I looked in a mirror, and being a Person of Very Small Self-esteem, I spent all my time trying to hide it or fix it and waiting for it to grow. It was awful. It was way more consuming than it should have been.

Then Pete decided she wanted a new do. She had cut her hair into a cute bob back in May for Locks for Love and wanted something more interesting. Having had the experience I had with the $13 stylist, I took her to my $45 stylist to get it done. If it was that bad for me, imagine how my poor 9 year-old would have handled a hatchet job! Since I was still wishing my hair was different, I made an appointment for me too and we went together. Before we went, we spent time looking at hairstyles and deciding what we really wanted. We printed pictures and took them with us so he could see. And when we got there, we looked at one of the hairstyle books he had and found even better choices.

The result was that he was able to finally fix my hair in a way that I really like it. It is still on its way to growing out. But now I LIKE it!

Pete, on the other hand, had 4 or 5 pictures of what she wanted and spent a lot of time with the stylist picking and choosing what she liked from each and ended up with a one-of-a-kind, self-designed hairstyle that she loves and that looks Super Cute and very grown up on her.

Lesson learned: I do not want a short cut. Remind me of that if I ever say, “Hey, I’m thinking about cutting my hair off. What do you think?”

Right Then, Here’s the Plan

I am completely failing at WFMAD this month. The girls “need” me. Pete and I went out of town. Play dates with friends. Back-to-school shopping. Laundry and dirty bathrooms. Carowinds. Etc.…

Instead, my plan is to WFMAD next month. Well, the end of this month into next month. The prompts don’t expire. I’ll just take it a day at a time, a month behind.

That way, I can stop feeling guilty about this. I will continue to squeeze in time for writing between now and then, just like last year at this time, while I wait to get these girls out of my hair off to school.

Bear with me.

Check back in a week.

FROGS!! (eventually…)

Earlier this summer, Husbandguy scooped a Copes Gray Tree Frog out of the girls' pool and returned it to the creek at the bottom of the hill. Later that day, when I went out to change the froggy pool water, I found these.

All over the pool. Apparently, Mama T. Frog left her family behind when HG relocated her. The girls both decided that seeing what happened with the eggs was more important than swimming in the pool, so we left them. Until someone wanted to see our house (which is never going to sell) and we had to take the pool down. We went out and bought these and scooped up the teeny tiny tadpoles to come live with us.

We got 2. This one is Lulu’s. Each habitat had dozens of little swimmy creatures in it, each with its own food supply still stuck to its belly (they start out with a little ball of yolk). Eventually, they needed food from other sources, and we were misinformed and fed them the wrong thing so they ate each other.

OMG, Bel! you’re thinking. Why are you telling us this Tadpole Horror Story?!

They’re not all dead/eaten. We still have 3 good sized tadpoles left. Oddly, these little guys seemed to get bigger overnight, the same nights that a number of their brothers and sisters disappeared.

We had more than that when Pete and I left for DC, but HG could only find the 3 when he changed the water while we were away. But I digress…

Copes Gray Tree Frogs make a LOT of noise. Click here to listen to what our backyard sounds like at night (that’s not actually our backyard…). We will be letting them go when they find their voices because as beautiful as the sounds of nature are, I like to sleep.

For now, though. We’re boiling lettuce (the right thing to feed them) and waiting for leg buds and giving them fresh, de-chlorinated water every other day.

Oh, and last night, Lulu and I discovered a planter full of water and TADPOLES on the patio. I was soooo tempted to scoop them into Pete’s critter keeper and watch them grow. Instead, I called HG, and he and Lulu carried them down the hill and let them go in the creek. I’m nuts. I’m not crazy.

WFMAD, day 8

Last year, I missed the beginning of WFMAD because the girls and I were at the beach with Moomie. Plus, I didn't know about it until I got back from the beach and looked up LHA's website.

This year, I missed a few days because I was in DC and VA with Pete. My beautiful cousin (who apparently reads my blog but never COMMENTS!) got married this past Saturday. Pete and I took advantage of the location and met the Grandpa a few days early and spent some time touring the Smithsonian Museums. Pete had never been to DC so I gave her her choice of things to do (see the monuments, go to the museums, tour the White House, a combination of those, etc.). She picked the museums, and there are plenty of them to fill up 2 days. It was fun. We rode the bus to the Metro station and then rode the Metro to Federal Triangle and then walked and walked and walked and walked all around. Pete was totally comfortable with the public transportation stuff. She'd be a great kid to live in a real city with.

Oh, we did visit one monument, the Washington Monument. Pete put her hands on it. When I asked her what it felt like, she said, "Stone... And history..."

And my cousin's wedding was wonderful. They did a great job of combining Catholic and Jewish traditions. I'd never danced the Horah before! Pete had a great time, too.

Plus, now my cousin and my new cousin live super close to HG's parents, which isn't far from here!

But anyway, I'm back on track with WFMAD. I might even take some time and try some of the ones I missed if I get a minute. Or 15... I'll share a little if I write anything worth sharing!

(And remind me to tell you about the job I applied for...)

OMG, Mom! Go away!

Don't try to hide it.
We all know you're
That crazy lady who
Sits in the hallway
Outside children's choir practice
With tears in her eyes.
And whispers, "They're so good!"
To anyone nearby,
Despite the mortification
Of the 9 year-old
Mini-clone
Of your husband
Inside.

No Monsters Allowed

The monsters formally asked,
When the bigger little girl came along,
Requested an all access pass
To scare her all night long.

As her mother, of course I said, "No."
I banned them all from our home.
I told them that they had to go,
Spectre, beastie, and gnome.

When her imagination started to play
And kept her awake full of fear,
I was able to truthfully say
Not a single monster was near.

And because I'm the mom, it was true
No monster ever could stay,
And when we had sweetie number 2
The monsters still had to obey.

Oh, sure, they begged for reprieve,
For me to repeal the harsh rules.
I stuck to my guns. They must leave!
So long all you demons and ghouls!

Try it, when your babes feel a scare
And things go bump in the night.
Tell the monsters to get out of there.
Mom says NO to the fright.

-------

'Strue. 'Tworks. Our house is a monster-free zone.

Notebook

I have this Super Cool notebook. It's green with little line drawings of trees. All different kinds of trees. And peeking out from behind one of the trees is Big Foot! You have to search for him because he's tiny. And hiding. I'd take a picture, but I can't find my camera so look here instead. Mine is green. I said that. It has the picture below stuck on it and several Chinese restaurant fortune cookie fortunes that struck me, like "The world will soon be ready to receive your talents" (you know that's true!) and "You will make a name for yourself in the field of medicine" (HG said, "Are they going to name a disease after you?") and "Don't underestimate yourself. Your social skills are needed by others at this time" (very desperate others, apparently!). Also, a fortune appropriate for the career I've chosen to wrestle with, "You will make many changes before settling satisfactorily" (ah... revisions...).















Before I started reading One Year to a Writers Life, this notebook was just randomness and Follies. I mean literally, Follies - it was the notebook I took to the writers meetings for Follies last year. I don't have a good post to refer you back to that isn't from 2009 so I'll just remind you that Follies is the little show a group of talented people puts on at my church every fall, and in 2009 I stole the show and then in 2010 I wrote it and Pete stole it! Anyway, after I started my reading, I decided to make this book my journal and to date the things I write in it and to make them go consecutively from one page to the next instead of just writing wherever the book opens to.

I love my little notebook. I loved it the first moment I saw it and just had to have it. Little did I realize then that this would be My Notebook, my journal, my First Official Journal. Full of images from the ice storm and the sensory garden at the girls' school. Full of whining and complaining about having noplace of my own (yes, I meant that to be one word - Firefox doesn't like it - I don't care). Full of character descriptions and short scenes and, believe it or not, a couple of feeble attempts at plotting (not my thing, not finding those helpful yet). Nope. When I grasped it and wrestled it from the weird basket shelf thing where they keep the notebooks at the store, I had no idea what I would do with it; I just knew it belonged to me and that I could do great things with it. I knew it so certainly that I bought the matching 2-pocket folder.

How sad will I be when it's filled. Well, sad and proud.

And inspired.

I just mean that I hope my next notebook is this cool.

What do you think? Should I buy another one just like it now in case I can't find them when I need my Second Official Journal? Or should I just trust that, when the time comes, I'll be able to find another, perhaps different, equally awesome volume?

(This post was inspired by Charmaine at Wagging Tales. I often find her inspiring...)

All the New Stuff

Holy Moly!

If reading and talking about writing has any effect on being a writer, I'm destined to be a writer really soon!

I told you about the 2 new books the Grandpa and Meme gave me. One is all about practicing my craft for the next year and the other one, which it appears I didn't mention in my other post, is about balancing being a mom and being a writer. I have already packed the first one in my pile of things to bring to carpool (really just that book, my notebook, my phone, and my keys, a little bitty pile...), and the second one is at the top of my to-be-read book stack.

Then yesterday, Husbandguy had the day off. He said it probably had something to do with being more cost effective to give everyone the day after the day after New Years off, since it was a new year, instead of the last day of 2010. Who knows. Regardless, we went out to breakfast after we dropped off the girls and then we did a little birthday shopping for Pete, who turns NINE next Sunday. NINE. More about that later... When we were in Borders I checked out the new issue of Poets & Writers, which the Grandpa gave me a subscription to. It looked really interesting so I told HG that I hoped my subscription starts with this issue (he said we could go back and get it if it didn't), and when we got home, there it was in my mailbox! Yay! More reading. That's folded open on the coffee table to be read while football is on.

And football will be on tonight. Go Bucks!

And then at church last Sunday, 2 other people initiated conversations about writing with me. They brought it up! People know me as a writer!! One wanted advice about self-publishing. I'm no expert on this, but I did have a lot of fun creating a little book for Meme a couple of years ago. It's filled with photos of and poems about my girls. It's really cute (and not for sale to the general public (it needs work)). The other just asked how it was going. I'd say, considering that I just started this in September and was only halfhearted about it for the past month-and-a-half, it's going pretty well. You know?

And today I started my new schedule. I wrote for 2 hours. I made real progress on my children's chapter book that I started during NaNoWriMo and will probably write the actual end tomorrow.

Are you a writer? Or other type of artist? How did you know when it happened that you became a Real [insert artist here]? Was there a blue fairy involved? Or, like me, did you just talk a big game enough that you started to believe it yourself and then everyone else had to too?

I Resolve…

I have a couple of resolutions this year. Usually I don’t bother with them, but I thought maybe I’d give it a shot this year.

For one, I have resolved to teach Lulu to eat vegetables. My plan is a veggie a month, but I think that if I can get her eating 4 veggies by the end of the year, that will be a success. Right now she eats carrots. That’s it. I have no idea how I’m going to do it, but I’m going to try to get her to eat peas too. Then maybe beans? I also thought I’d try having her grow her own lettuce this spring and see if that makes it more appealing…

And I am resolving to stick to a daily schedule during the week.

(I stuck it to the side of the computer so it would be in my face all the time.) Obviously there will be days this won’t work. Vacation or sick days, for example. But if, when my dad calls and says, “Are you writing every day?” I can honestly answer, “Sometimes,” I’ll consider that resolution a success.

There are other things I’d like to do, run a 5k with Pete, get published and then get published again, clean the house, train the dog. I’m just going to try to accomplish these things, though, and not resolve to do them. That way I won’t fail…

Have you made any resolutions? Or any just-want-to's?

Pete Says:

The other day the 4 of us piled into the car for the hour+ drive to Moomie's house. We were about halfway there when Husbandguy said, "There's Santa on a motorcycle."

Pete said, "Where?!" We showed her and she said, disappointed, "Oh. I thought you said Nana on a motorcycle."

Remember When?

Hey! Remember when I used to blog about my kids? Remember "Pete Says:" and "The Name Giver"? Remember when I used to post cute little poems about lost teeth and not wanting to nap (I sent that one off as a potential picture book, by the way...)? I should do that again!

Um...

Oh! I've got something it's a Pete Says:

Pete has had her picture taken with the same Santa since she was almost 2 (same mall, same man, very good at his job - and he's also a civil war reenacter! - I don't know how to spell that...) This year she is almost 9. So she's just the right age to, you know, be in on the secret of the Mall Santas. Know what I mean? Last year she made a comment that made me think she might be suspicious about the true identity of the person who leaves her gift under the tree, but she only said 1 thing and never mentioned it again. This year I asked her if she talks about Santa with her friends and she said, no, that they don't believe in him anymore.

I asked her what she thinks and she said, "You told us that the Santa we see at the mall is the real one and all the others are his helpers so I believe that."

On the one hand, it's fun to be the Santa for another year. On the other hand, it would also be fun for her to be in on it and be my partner in crime creating the magic for her sister. But, it's not my place to tell her, and I got one more super cute Santa picture with both of my babies this year.

Maybe I AM a Writer!

Those of you who write for a living or who haven't just recently discovered your creativity in a dusty shoe box under the bed (so, like, all 4 of you?) probably won't be impressed by this, but I found it thrilling and so I'm going to share.

Yesterday the family and I piled into the car and went to the mall in search of Pants for Pete. On the way home, a story started writing itself in my head. It seemed to have potential so I took a moment to get the first few sentences down when we got home. Then, since Lulu had fallen asleep in the car and Pete had gotten right into her jammies and watched TV with Husbandguy and I wasn't needed for anything, I kept writing. All the way to the end! Guys! I haven't done that in years, just sat down and written a story from beginning to end.

Of course, the story is terrible. Everything I write is terrible and rough at first, but it was (like I said) thrilling to come away from the computer with more than just another idea. And it's good in its terribleness with all the potential and everything.

------------------

So you know, I may or may not have time to increase my NaNoWriMo word count today. Everyone is home from school/work, and our drains stopped draining this morning (a thing which may or may not be the result of an absentminded mistake on my part) so NaNo might not get Wri-en today. It's okay. I have the whole rest of the Mo.

Explore This Feeling with Me

Recently, I've been thinking it would be nice to have another baby.

WHAT?! you say. We thought you were done having babies?

I am. For a couple of reasons. Husbandguy and I really feel like our family is complete. Two children is enough for us. You know? Also, when I had Lulu, I told the doctor (12 dozen times) that yes, indeed, I was certain I wanted my tubes tied. So having another baby would not be a simple and natural thing for us anymore. We would really have to want it and it could end up being expensive and ultimately possibly disappointing.

This last is the thing that is keeping me level-headed about all of this. I realize that I don't actually want another baby. I remember that I loved being pregnant both times (I was very lucky to have easy pregnancies) and I adore those sleepless nights with a newborn who can be soothed by simply swinging on your shoulder while you talk on the phone or in your arms while you doze in the rocker or across your chest while you wash dishes. I wouldn't mind another chance to try nursing again. Third time's the charm, right? But as wonderful as all of these things are, we made the choice 4 years ago to not go through it again. We had good reasons (beyond not being outnumbered), and they are still very valid.

So what's the deal? Why the feeling?

The answer to that question is found, I believe, in my reaction to Pete struggling to find motivation at school earlier this year. I told her that if she didn't shape up and take some responsibility, I was going to pull her out of the school she's been going to for the past 5 years and home school her.

Ah Ha! you say. Right? No? Nobody? Okay then. Here it is:

This whole empty nest thing is getting to me! It's lonely here without my little monkey. For 4 years I had at least one child with me most of the time, learning, laughing, whining, pestering, making crafts, making messes, just generally amazing me every day. And even when Lulu started preschool and both girls were gone, it was only for a few days a week for a few hours at a time, barely enough time to do a load of laundry, let alone feel lonely!

Here I am now with all this time for writing and introspection and housework, things I've wished I had time for for years (well, maybe not the housework). And I'm loving the writing part of it. So far it's like being pregnant was for me - a little uncomfortable at times, but mostly easy, with the joy of something growing in spite of me (but absolutely not inside of me). The housework hasn't quite figured out how to fit itself into my schedule - if my housework was Pete's school work, we'd be home schooling. But the introspection! Oh man! I have never talked to myself this much ever, I don't think. At least not since I was 5. And I suspect that 5 year-old me was way more interesting than 36 year-old me is. Yikes!

Seriously. Yikes!

It's good, though, that I see this urge for what it is. It's good, too, that I get how difficult it would be to act on it anyway. It's also good that I confessed my feelings to HG because maybe, just maybe, instead of a baby, I can get a laptop and get out of this place and write somewhere else.

Laptops are less expensive than babies.

----------------

On another note:

My Day 2 NaNoWriMo word count is 5,021. A good solid number. More than halfway to the point where I gave up 2 years ago. At this rate, I will reach and surpass the dreaded 10,000 word mark before the weekend!

What I learned today:

• Full credit for this lesson goes to Charmaine over at Wagging Tales. In her Day 2 post, she reminded us that making changes to text already written wasn't a good idea time-wise and suggested that we simply make the change going forward and make a bold note of it so we can retrofix it later (that word works, right?). For example, I realized today that the character I had been calling Abigail for the past 4 pages was actually named Iris. I had written Abigail so many times, though, that to go back and change all the occurrences would have taken a lot of time and completely interrupted the flow of my writing. Instead, I made a note to myself right in the text that said, "ABIGAIL'S NAME IS ACTUALLY IRIS" and went on with the story using the name Iris. And what I learned is that I should visit Wagging Tales every day before I start writing. Thank you, Charmaine.

YA Fiction and NaNoWriMo

Hi! I'm back. Follies is done for now. Sadly, they didn't want me to create the video for the DVD version so I'm all what-do-I-do-now and stuff.

Pete, by the way, was awesome in the Follies. She had ZERO stage fright, although she was nervous, of course. She spoke up and didn't miss a cue and got a ton of applause just for her. She wants to do it again. I am loving this.

While the Grandpa and Meme were here for the show, they gave me their notes on the story I was working on. The other one that I wrote a long time ago. They had some good things to say and some great advice. They thought it seemed more like young adult fiction than adult, which I hadn't considered before. But when I did, it made sense and opened up a whole new path for me to take. I considered working on it for NaNoWriMo, but it is against the rules to have anything written (other than an outline or some notes) before November 1 so I'm working on it between now and then.

Then, when November rolls around, I'm taking a break from all of my current projects and trying something new. A couple of years ago when I did NaNoWriMo, I didn't make it. I quit part way through. I gave up at just under 10,000 words. I do that, give up, when it looks like I'm going to fail at something, because for me it's better to not try and not fail than to have that failure on my record. I'm a chicken.

bawkbawkbawk

I'm ready to try again, though. I may not make it to 50,000 words. Especially considering I'm going to try to pull something completely new out of my hat. But I have an idea (inspired by Lulu's recent adventure) and I have in mind some books I've read recently (The Graveyard Book, the Series of Unfortunate Events books) that I enjoyed and a new audience (YA) to consider so I am hopeful that I'm not a total nut job. And I admit to having written 109 words to help get me started because I don't want to sit down on November 1 and go, "Duuhhhhh..." (drool). That would be unproductive. And gross.

How about you? Do you have a novel floating around in your brain that you just haven't had the time or motivation to write? If you sign up, let me know! We can be writing buddies.

And also, I'll be sharing the joy that is my NaNoWriMo adventure here with you so check back!!

Kids. In a Box.

Last Friday, Pete and I packed sleeping bags into the trunk and gathered our toothbrushes and headed out to the church for a soup-kitchen-style dinner and a loooong night of sleeping in a cardboard box on the playground. It was supposed to be similar, for the elementary children, to what a homeless person might experience. Since the weather was nice (clear with temps in the 50s), it turned out to be a lot more like camping than homelessness, I am sure, but the point of the night wasn't to cause our children to be miserable (that comes when they're in high school and do the cardboard city in December); it was to stimulate discussion about homelessness and what we can do to help people who don't have homes. That part was a success! For our family, at least. Pete and I are exploring the social justice volunteer opportunities through the church and will be participating in as many as we can (after Follies). I intend to include Lulu in as much as I can too. She was too little for sleeping in the boxes, but she had a lot of questions about soup kitchens when we were talking about it beforehand.

Some other nice things happened at the event. Pete made 2 new friends. Unfortunately they go to the late service and we go to the early one so she won't see them much, but it was neat to watch her make friends. This seems to be an area where Lulu excels over Pete, usually. Maybe she's rubbing off on her.

Also, Pete played the prelude for the little worship service we had after dinner. She played Für Elise. Beautifully, of course. And even let me turn the page for her without seeming all embarrassed that I'm her mom. I got to ring the gong, but Pete's piano was prettier.

I did not sleep. It didn't help that someone decided that Friday night would be a good night for some Midnight Leaf Blowing. What was that about?! I'm not kidding, though. Someone nearby was using a leaf blower in the middle of the night. Also, 2 trains went by on the tracks near the church. There was only 1 emergency that required a siren nearby. No wild or stray animals wandered by our boxes. Although there was a giant cricket thing in my box when I slithered in to go to sleep. It was hideous! I'm not a fan of bugs. And Pete didn't walk in her sleep. I was mildly worried about this. She, in fact though, fell asleep fairly quickly and stayed asleep all night. That was nice. In the morning she was even rested enough to go to her swimming lesson at 8. We stopped for coffee and a pastry in the way (she had a smoothie, not coffee) and then met Husbandguy and Lulu at the pool.

And then later? After real breakfast?

I took a nap.

One of My Favorite Things

Hi! Guess what! On Tuesday? This last one? The 14th, you know?

Follies rehearsals started!! Yay for Follies rehearsals!!

This year we have 30+ cast members at the start. The actual number will change as people drop out and whatever like they always apparently do, which last year allowed for the new upstart to pad her part until she had the most memorable role in the whole play (read about that here if you've forgotten). I had a hand in writing the show and in some of the multimedia stuff (which didn't get as big a laugh at the first rehearsal as I'd hoped it would, but people were distracted...); that's called "being on the production team." And the director is trying to get my character into every scene. Every scene. You know me. I don't mind.

Pete is in it with me this year. Since I helped with the script, I was able to write her a little recurring gag part that is going to be a big hit, I think. She's anxious, but I think that's because the little bit of "acting" she's done before involved, at most, 30 minutes of rehearsal on a Sunday morning right before the service in which she portrayed a (fantastic) bunny or a school child playing hopscotch (she was the only one who did the 1-2-1-2-1-2-1 right). She'll feel better about it in time for the show. I'm hoping she'll be bitten by the acting bug because that can be such a confidence booster!

The only problem is that it's hard to focus on what I'm supposed to be doing and not spend the day searching the internet for props and costumes... I already bought a mustache... :D

Today I Am Wondering

• How to make a boring dialogue-driven story into something compelling to read.
• Whether the story is actually compelling.
• If it is possible to lose talent!
  
• Whether we've scheduled Pete for too many activities this fall (it's really only Tuesdays that are full...).
• Why it has to be 90º+ after Labor Day.
• Whether 2 Honey Buns and 3 cups of coffee is really a good breakfast.
• Whether Lulu's potty regression is only because of all the changes in her little life or if she needs a doctor.
• Whether Pete's warts will clear up before her self esteem suffers and/or before Follies.
• Who's going to clean this house.
• Why I'm not motivated to work on my story (maybe see the first bullet...).
• What I could work on instead.
• How to work on the computer but stay offline.
• Will our "free" roof really be free?
  

Another One About Growing Up

My 4 year-old uses air quotes. And she uses them correctly to indicate that the term she is using doesn't mean exactly what it sounds like.

My 8½ year-old was so brave at the doctor today. He wanted to treat the warts on her chest that her pediatrician hadn't frozen the other day, and he admitted it would be uncomfortable. Pete, at first, refused, covering the little patch with both hands. I offered my hand and told her it would be over quickly, but she still refused. After he explained, though, that it would be uncomfortable to treat them but without treatment they would never go away (I wish I could remember what he said exactly because it was really great), she unclenched her fists from each other and extended her hand to me and took a deep breath and toughed it out. I was so very proud of her.

sigh... no more babies...

Warts and All

This past week, Pete has been complaining about the little bumps on the back of her hand and some more popped up on her face around her mouth and chin and seemed sort of inflamed. Pete is growing up, in some ways too fast but I'm not going into that because creepy people search the internet for topics like that and EW!, so Husbandguy and Pete and I looked closely at the bumps to be certain she didn't just need to wash her face better, and we all decided that they weren't pimples. I wanted to take her to the doctor yesterday, but that was Lulu's first day of real school (it went really well - more about that later) and I wanted to be available for Lulu, so I took Pete this morning.

She seemed kind of keyed up. I don't know if she was nervous or excited or relieved, but she was loud and silly and adorable on the way there and while we waited for the doctor. Turns out she's got some warts, what we suspected. Not the kind you see on Halloween witches (those are called filiform), but just some everyday flat warts. The doctor recommended we see a dermatologist about the ones on her face, but she went ahead and froze the rest of them (she had some on her knee!). The doctor brought in a steaming cup with a cotton swab poking out of it, and Pete said, "What's that hot liquid in the cup?" The doctor explained that it was actually cold (she even said, "really cold q-tip"), and I launched into an explanation of liquid nitrogen that was probably totally unnecessary. Poor Pete! Apparently liquid nitrogen really hurts when it comes in contact with your skin. Pete was very brave, though. I can say that even though she complained and cried and tried to refuse treatment because she ultimately held my hand and counted with me and let the doctor kill the warts on her fingers and hand and knee. Then she got a bunch of Bugs Bunny bandages and I took her to lunch at the salad place she likes, where she tried to eat without bending her fingers.

Then she went back to school with her battle scars and wondered if she would be able to get out of doing a lot of work since she couldn't bend her fingers well and probably couldn't hold a pencil. She did say that she thought she might be able to turn pages...