Lasts

Our decade-and-a-half in California is screeching to a halt. As we prepare to leave, we've been experiencing the "last" this and the "last" that. There have been lasts up to our ear lobes.


I had my last day of work, and my wonderful team gave me the most amazing farewell gathering, complete with an embarrassing slideshow with music and a speech that resembled a eulogy.


Our wonderful friends threw us a terrific goodbye party so we could see people one last time.


Mary had her last day of school and bid farewell to her teachers and friends.


I had my last moms' dinner with my best mom pals. I cried when they left.


We went to the Farmer's Market for our last time and savored the freshest lemons we'll ever eat.

We dropped by Dennis & Emma's to get one last cup of coffee with coffeecake and say goodbye.


I can hardly stand any more "lasts." It's getting awfully glum. Lucky for me, all kinds of firsts are awaiting us in the rose city.

Packing Lists

We are T-minus five days for the giant moving van's arrival. I've been packing up a storm. As I am throwing things into boxes, it occurs to me that the most important treasures won't fit in a box.

So, here's my imaginary packing list, of things I wish we could bring along:

1. Friendships
2. Elizabeth (ooh, how we are going to miss our childcare provider!)
3. Moms' Dinner
4. My wine-drinking, sometimes-reading book club
5. Our neighbors -- all of them (minus that obnoxious barking dog, of course)
6. The Farmer's Market with its abundance of fresh, local produce & fish
7. An iced coffee-ice-cube latte from Dennis & Emma's coffee shop
8. Meadowlark Field
9. Mary's preschool teachers
10. A Hazelnut torte from Primrose Bakery
11. The mourning doves who just laid eggs in our hanging azalea for the second summer in a row
12. Our heritage oak (though not between Nov and Feb-- too many leaves to pick up!)
13. White Crane Winery's barrel tasting sessions
14. Friendships (I know, it's already on the list, but it's so important, I have to list it twice)
15. And last, but certainly not least, the brilliant blue-skied sunny day.

Broken arms, yes; broken spirits, no!

Lucy was such a champ today at Children's Hospital, proving that a broken bone does not lead to broken spirits. As we waited in the exam room, she curiously peeked out the door to greet the orthopedic surgeon. Lucy grinned at her, and then ducked back in the room quickly in a playful fashion when the surgeon approached, accidentally knocking the surgeon's file cart to the ground. Oops. Then, as I talked with the surgeon, Lucy made herself busy climbing up on the exam table and opening all of the drawers in the room. The surgeon said, "Well, isn't she just a sweet thing? She's like a cartoon character! I've never seen such a busy, curious child."

Then, the surgeon and I turned our backs on Lucy for 10 seconds to look at the x-ray, propped up in the light box. We heard a "Help, mommy," and turned to see Lucy, hanging from the sink area, legs dangling two feet from the floor. While we had our backs turned to the light box, she had taken the doctor's swivel stool and wheeled it to the counter, stood on it, and was "washing her hands" when the stool slipped out from under her, leaving her precariously hanging on the counter. In less than TEN SECONDS. The surgeon looked at her in disbelief, and then started laughing hysterically. She said, "It's not surprising to me at all that she's broken a bone. She's a real life little Curious George, isn't she?" and then she proceeded to giggle in a very un-surgeon like fashion...for over 30 seconds. Maybe longer.

My retort (in the nicest voice I could muster given all of her giggling): "It isn't quite so funny when you are her mother and in charge of watching her every second of every day." She stopped laughing, considered that for a moment, and then said, "Yes, I suppose you are right. So, Curious George, it's off to the cast room for you!" And then started chortling again. She was still laughing as Lucy skipped down the hall to the cast room.

Lucy chose a wonderful lime green cast wrap. She was enamored with the whole process and was proudly holding up her new cast for all to see. Until, that is, we got to the car, and she gestured to it and said to me in her most frustrated tone, "Off, mommy, want it OFF!" Let's hope the next few weeks (no swimming, no sand, no baths???) go quickly...for all of our sakes.

An unwanted souvenir

Just when we thought we were making a clean break from California, we're left with an unwanted souvenir.

Our Lucky Lucy (aka Evil Knievel) will be leaving with a cast. No, not a fun cast of some Disney character's face. A cast on her wrist. Turns out she fractured it. Not only that, she fractured the growth plate in her arm, so the fix might involve surgery. We are meeting with a pediatric specialist orthopedic surgeon at Children's Hospital tomorrow. Lucky indeed.

So, you ask, how did the big break happen? Ironically, it happened as she was trying to make a break from her jailhouse (aka crib) when she landed the wrong way. The kicker: it happened more than TWO weeks ago. She barely cried, but ever since, she's been wincing when we grab her hand to help her get dressed or wash her hands. She hasn't favored it at all and seemed to be using it just fine, but she definitely had a sore spot in there. I didn't want to be alarmist, but I mentioned it to the pediatrician at our appointment today (for a high fever, of all things) and she insisted on getting an x-ray. Who knew?

So, off we go to the specialist tomorrow... let's hope this is our last casualty in California! Although we do have seven days left, so anything is possible. Especially for our clan.

Walloped

Every so often, just when I start to feel a tiny, wee bit smug about having such amazing kids (and maybe, even going so far as thinking that I can take a little of the credit for it!), I get walloped. Last night was one of those walloping moments.

Scene: Dinner with the girls, 5pm

Lucy (hurling a carrot to the ground)

Mom: Lucy, if you throw food again, you will have a time out.

Lucy (hurling a spoonful of peas to the ground)
Mom: Lucy, climb out of your chair and go sit on the time-out mat.

(Repeat scenario three more times with a piece of chicken, fork, and more carrots.

Mom: Lucy, you must not be very hungry. You're done with dinner.

Scene: Family room, 6pm

Lucy (kicking the dog)
Mom: Lucy, we are kind to animals. No kicking the dog.

Lucy (stepping on dog's paw)

Mom: Lucy, it's bedtime for you. You are not behaving well enough to be up.

Yes, that's right. I sent my 22-month old to bed early without dinner because she was misbehaving. Not my proudest moment.

Like I said, walloped.

Maryisms Version 2.0

A few new Maryisms:

"Ya know how water is melted ice? Well, guess what milk is made from? It's made from melted SNOW!"

"Mom, can you hand me another snuggle snap pea, please?"

"Mom, how did you know when you had us in your tummy if it was a baby or a dog in there? Did Greta feel different to you than Lucy and me?"

And, we'll end it with that one, because really, how do you beat that one???

Whispers (in this house?)

Our house is full of high-pitched squeals and laughing.... ALL of the time. (Enter Exhibit A, the video below, as Evidence.) So imagine my surprise tonight. I had just put the girls to bed, but Lucy called out that she had to go to the bathroom one more time. So, I'm sitting with her in the dim bathroom, and she suddenly grabs my head and gently pushes my ear toward her little mouth. And then she whispers (which she has never done before...fine time to pick for your first whisper, Lucy...how about we try CHURCH sometime?). She leans over and whispers softly, sweetly to me: "How 'bout two m&ms for this Lucy? Won't tell Mary!"

I nearly cried I laughed so hard. And then, Mary heard the peals of laughter that Lucy and I were sharing and had to investigate. And the house was back to normal... squealing, laughing, chaotic noises. We ALL had m&ms to celebrate the moment. And, needless to say, that was the end of my fleeting moment of quiet.

Little Lucy is a riot these days. At the end of every book we read, she declares, "AMEN!" She is a champ at this self-potty-training thing and it's been a record FIVE days since her last accident. (Yes, we are considering posting a sign akin to those, "15 days since a lost-time injury at our workplace.") She loves to put on her own shoes (whether they are on the right feet matters not). She treks around on her tricycle at speeds that rival my jogging pace. She's a born athlete.

Mary is full of imagination and adventure. Her grasp of language is amazing-- she's even begun using analogies on par with a college co-ed. Last week, while Lucy was pushing a baby stroller into Mary's foot, Mary scolded her, "Lucy, be more careful. My foot is not the grass and that is not a lawn mower!"

All of you Portlanders are in for quite a surprise to have these two wild girls in your vicinity. They are so much work, exhausting yet so hysterical, too. And maybe your quiet, calm influence will help our whispers become more frequent....especially in church, God willing.